This Isn't Happiness

I've been neglecting this space. I think that's largely okay. It's probably a sign of my living an actual life, more than anything. 

I want to write about Iceland, but it's probably best seen through my Instagram feed. I'm really bad at writing about meaningful experiences without being cloying and, also, I want to keep a lot of it to myself. That's important too.

I found a blog called this isn't happiness the other week. It's crept up as one of the blogs I look forward to the most on my feedly. 

It's all art, photography and design that's melancholy in the same way you feel drowning in early morning light, or when saying goodbye to a friend you love, or being alone (but content) in the most beautiful place in the world.

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Solo

You know, I nearly forgot about this blog. I was getting ready for bed last night, thinking about how I hadn't written anything "for me" in a while, when I realized: oh right, I have a URL registered. I have a login at blogspot.com. I have space on the internet!

It's just over three weeks until Iceland, and all I can think about are clothes - what to wear in Reykjavik, how many sweaters to pack, why the fuck are rain pants so expensive?! The list goes on. Perhaps I'm distracting myself from more meaningful, potentially terrifying, thoughts. Frivolity is good for that.

As this is my first time traveling solo, something I hope to do for the rest of my life, I'm confronted with the fact that I will actually be ALONE. I've wanted this for so long, to just head off to another country, cut off contact for a little while and be alone with my thoughts. I've even ordered Walden for reading on the plane. Because I'm insufferable.

I'm terrified for two reasons: one, what if I end up in some horrendous glacier-related situation where I need help and no one's there and, two, where the hell is my mind going to go in those 10 days? 

Ten days is nothing, I'll give you that. There was some television show I was watching last night (who am I kidding - it was Grey's Anatomy) where a man was lost in the desert for two months. Two months! What do you even become after going that long without human contact? I'm not optimistic about it, but I'm terribly curious.

They say that fear is an important driver for change. I've been in the same place for about a year now - chasing after other things, unable to settle and really appreciate what I have. I know this. I'm selfish and lack empathy or foresight a lot of the time. 

A friend once told me (yelled at me) that I don't know what I want, and that's my problem. Scaring the shit out of myself is a good thing. I don't know how effective this trip will be, but one can always hope.

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Surf

It's been a while.

I had a little break from writing anything down, including but not limited to my personal notebook. I've just gotten back into the habit of observing for observing's sake. It's familiar. And nice.

We're coming onto a rainy week here, where the only things I'm looking forward to are seeing friends and (hopefully) heading outside more.

Speaking of, I had my first real camping trip last weekend to Bon Echo Provincial Park. We booked a walk-in site, an in-between option for those of us who aren't ready for a hiking trip but don't want to remain sandwiched between two families with RVs.

The view was incredible (see above) - the weather much less so. I'm a little alarmed at my own eagerness to get back out there again, considering we weren't able to start a fire or properly get warm all weekend (blame it on rain and wind and lack of foresight on our parts). 

I know I get especially fierce at rectifying practical mistakes, so it's likely that part of my work ethic acting up. In any case, I'm hoping for more sunshine next time.

And speaking of sunshine and summer - this won't be the best album of the summer, but it's one of the first to feel like the season.

Keep on Keeping Awe

Last Saturday, I woke up at 4:30 am to go hang my legs off a cliffside and watch the sunrise.

And it was fucking amazing.

Vice put out this article called "The Death of Awe in the Age of Awesome". It talks about how it's become increasingly difficult to attain a sense of genuine awe.

Back in the day, the article says, a Stone Age hunter or a Romantic poet had a better chance of experiencing awe properly. People before the Internet or modern civilization, basically.

Nowadays, we have bucket lists and Instagram to show us everything we could be amazed at, before we have a chance to see it at all. "When was the last time you witnessed something special without seeing a photo of it first?" the article asks.

People try to combat this, try to feel wonder, by traveling to new places around the world. The thing is, seeing the Sistine Chapel or Northern Lights in person doesn't always provide that awe. These places are crowded. You look at it and, because of Google Images, there's nothing new anymore.

The key is to be surprised, apparently. We don't expect the things that truly inspire awe. 

The writer describes observing a puffy-chested wren perched by him in the park, something that's never happened to him before. To him, this is the most genuine awe he's ever felt. 

For a while, I couldn't find the words to describe why I go out to the woods every weekend, or why I'm a little sad that I'll be moving to the city soon. This is it. I like feeling amazed. I like that I can have a mini weekend adventure to watch the sunrise, or see the stars at 1 am on a new moon night (also last weekend). 

It's not so hard to remove yourself from your day-to-day. It doesn't need to be a 5 am hike, or a midnight drive through Caledon. It can be a walk in the park. It can be sitting still and looking at the sky. It doesn't have to be anything amazing - it just has to be a little unexpected.

(Another note: Happy Earth Day! The Lyrid Meteor Shower is tonight, if you have clear skies and the ability to stay up late. Count yourself lucky if you have both.)

Sober

Been spending the last little while memorizing lyrics, doing crosswords and wasting time outside of my house.

Which means this weekend may be the weekend – the one where I actually get my shit together and write something down.

Until then.

Weekend Walks

As it turns out, there are always new things to find about a place, no matter how often you go back.

My friend Geo and I went for one of our semi-weekly hikes/trail walks about a month ago. The snow often looks discouraging, but with temperatures at a mere -1C, the whole idea seemed fine. 


We usually end up spending an hour or so going down one forested hillside near our area, but we thought to go further down the trail itself this time. There were a few times where we didn't make much distance before the sun set, so this particular afternoon seemed to be a make-up session for all of that.

Good thing, too, because we found a side trail that led to some pretty nice views of the area. And it was a decently challenging hike too! 

This is why I love the snow. We would never have been able to find that trail, had we not seen footprints going up. The snow also means that you can see animal tracks more easily, as well as the odd red cardinal.

I'm glad the snow's melting. I have way too many pictures of the same colours from the past few months.

Lady Friend

It has been so long since I posted. Which is pretty shameful, considering I have a draft post waiting for me to get my act together and upload the necessary photos.

Weekdays have been hectic lately, while weekends always involve me marathon-ing Netflix and catching up on some (slightly chilly) sunshine. The imbalance is driving me a bit mad. I need something to curb my antsy-ness.

Beyond that, I'm on (yet another) Chance the Rapper binge. Is sentimental rap its own genre? It should be.

Iceland Calling

I've been talking about visiting Iceland for about four years now. As of last Friday, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING.

I booked a week-long tour with G Adventures that takes me around the entire country, with stops in places like this and this. I was originally going to do a trekking tour, which means ten days of hiking and backpacking. I like being outdoors, but I was unsure about this.

Imagine my giddiness when I found out that they launched the Best of Iceland tour, which will be the perfect intro to a country I'll likely visit again (to hike or camp or whatever) one day.

This trip is important to me in other ways, too. 

Throughout the last few years, at school especially, I would feel very "left behind" in watching my friends' and then-boyfriend's travels over Facebook. I was happy for them, especially because they got to experience such amazing things, but I usually felt like it was some moral failing of mine that I never travelled or "saw the world". 

I'm sure there are others who share this feeling. I would get really mean and immature about it when, really, I was just jealous. 

So, I decided to change things and start saving.

For the past year or so, I've been slowly putting money away, all for some destination yet to be decided on. I wanted to go somewhere where I could be away from dense populations, and where the landscape felt untouched (for the most part). So, neglecting the oft-chosen western Europe or southeast Asia destinations, I chose Iceland.

I predict it will be a popular destination soon (see: Beyoncé circa Christmas 2014), but it doesn't matter to me. I wanted to travel somewhere where the natural sights were gorgeous, and the country has a rich history. 

And did I mention I'll be going all alone? (Besides a tour group of strangers, anyway.)

That's why this trip is so important to me. There's been so much build-up, both emotionally and financially, that I don't really care to share it with anyone else. 

I want to make a memory that's my own - essentially, one that I wouldn't associate with a future ex-boyfriend, for example. I feel like that's being selfish, but I believe that you should be selfish with certain things.

This is one of those things that I'm doing just for me. It's crazy to think that it's finally happening.

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Bare Necessities

There's a movement towards minimalism that's grown quite popular. 

You see it in interior decorating a lot nowadays. Take a look at posts like this or fairly popular blogs like this. 

I think people are tired of being so cluttered - inwardly and, therefore, outwardly - so they do things like paint their walls white, purchase white bedding, and buy neutral-coloured sweaters from H&M.

Not that I painted all of my walls white (I did do a cool grey in my second-year bedroom), but minimalism is something I actively seek in my day-to-day. I now have my wardrobe down to, like, five colours, four of which are also colours of cats ("All cats are neutrals," my sister once told me). I'm saving up for a simple white bedspread, like half of the females on the internet.

It's also important, I think, to strive for minimalism with the less-superficial things. Do you ever find that you've split your energy between too many interests and hobbies? I definitely do. 

In an effort to start moving towards this new and improved lifestyle, I started purging. Now, over the past few years, I've purged a lot.

This includes, but is not limited to, books, shoes, passable but out of style designer jeans - the list goes on. Sometimes I regret throwing things out (read: a notebook from an ex that was pretty much one long love letter*) but I mostly don't, and that makes it all worthwhile.

It's the same story with the detritus I've seen piled up in my iTunes. 

So, in early Autumn, I deleted MY ENTIRE LIBRARY. Granted, I kept certain albums I knew I'd never delete (Beyoncé and Bon Iver, both self-titled, were two I recall). 

And, actually, it felt so goddamn good. I was able to build my music library from the ground up, taking things from my computer library (since that was still intact). It's been surprisingly pleasant, being able to enjoy 95% of the songs that come up on shuffle. 

It reminds me of the first time I enjoyed an album through an entire listen.** Which is a great time, really, if you can recall.

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*Never throw out love letters. I was told this about a year too late, after I over-dramatically gave my first ex back everything he had ever gifted me. I later found out that he threw them out that same day.

**Fall Out Boy's From Under the Cork Tree and The Killers' Hot Fuss, sitting next to my stereo on my bedroom floor. Age 14.

Keep It Short

I've been falling behind with my reading.

I had an impressive winter last year. It would take me less than a week to finish books I'd been dying to read but had consistently just added to my Goodreads to-read list (East of Eden, White Noise, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, for some examples). 

Combined with my 60+ hr/week job and the fact that I was neglecting regular exercise (yet again), this should be seen as a miraculous feat. If only I could duplicate it this year.

I'm only working 40 hrs/week now, but with the commute it's more like 55. Living in the suburbs is steadily gnawing at my soul. Instead of reading at night, I marathon, like, five episodes of Gilmore Girls. Friends, it's become that bad.

In place of my novel-reading habit, which has dropped quite disastrously (I'm only 130 pages into 100 Years of Solitude ... a month later), I've been reading essays and short fiction online. It's given me something to do in my off-time that's not too overwhelming. I'll always be a lover of the novel first, but this should do in its stead.

Tess Lynch is one of the writers I follow for this kind of content. She doesn't post as much as I'd like her to (not everyone is my dancing monkey, of course), but it's cool. That's because, when she does, it's essentially how I'd like my writing to be - sensitive, sincere, well-crafted, elegant. It goes on.

She writes about a bunch of different topics - motherhood, current events, Kathleen Hale. If you'd like, read this story about a cat/relationship (one of my favourite things I've read on the Internet, ever) or this one about her son.

It's been a weird week. Diving into reading helps with things like this, at least.

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