Funny the way it is, when ya think about it..

Over the past week since I've made it "official" that I'm leaving Edmonton I've had a lot of people share their kind words and fond memories with me, and I with them. Some of these people I've known before my time in Edmonton; they've made their way here also, either before or after I did. Others are those who I've had the pleasure of meeting here in Edmonton; these folks are few, but extremely high caliber. The words we've exchanged, well, they got me to thinking. Why is it that we tend to only share our fondest memories and most sincere appreciation for the people in our lives only when we're afraid that we're losing them? Most commonly, we think of this scenario when it's associated with death. Since my leaving Edmonton has become public, however, I've been experiencing this both in my professional and personal life.

How hard is it to take thirty seconds out of your day to share your appreciation for what ever it is someone brings into your life?

I've had co-workers share with me how much they appreciate all the hard work I've done for them on projects, or how much they'll miss me around the office, or having me on projects because they find it easy to work with me, or how disappointed they are because they had me in mind for a specific project because they saw in me certain skills and qualities that made me the ideal candidate.

I've had friends reminisce with me about the times we've shared together - some recent times, while others go back to the time we first met. People take their turns, each sharing what it is about me that they like having around (not to say there aren't times when they'd rather that I was not around, though! haha). One friend recalled, "I remember when we first met, we were sitting on the balcony overlooking the ravine and talking about our lives... then and there I knew we were going to be great friends." And we were. And we are. And we always will be. Sometimes you just know. "I'm going to miss you," they say - and they mean it, and it means so much to me to hear those words. And I'll miss them so much - so genuinely much.

Then, the question arises: Why did this all have to wait until now? Now, I'm not saying I would have changed my mind had my co-workers expressed their appreciation and reliance on me more, or had my friends more openly shared their reasons for wanting me to stick around. But, in the day-to-day happenings of our lives, why do we find it so hard to share just how much someone means to us? We find all the time in the world to complain about how we slept so poorly the night before, or how our kids (or dogs in most of my friends cases) were up sick all night, or how we just wish the day were over, etc. We openly wish our time away with these people, when we should be inviting every moment to be the best moment possible with them. Why can't we take thirty seconds to share our appreciation for that person. It can even come in the form of, "Ya know, I've just been having a really rough time lately. I'm so glad that I have you in my life. I can always count on you and I'm so thankful for that."

Thirty seconds.

After coming to this realization I've decided that for the rest of my life - and especially during these transient times when I feel I require so much more support from those I've allowed into my life and who've allowed me into theirs -  I'm going to express my appreciation every chance I get. Whether you're a co-worker, a family member, an acquaintance or a best friend - you are in my life for a reason and I should share with you whenever I can just how much I appreciate you.

Do I have you thinking yet?

Chances are, if you're reading this right now, you fit into one of those categories so let me take a moment and fulfill my new-found resolution with a quote by Melody Beattie:

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for toady, and creates a vision for tomorrow."

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. You've all made my house a home. Not the house where I keep my groceries and my clothes, but the house inside of me where my little voice lives. My little voice thanks you too, by the way. She wasn't ready to die - she's only twenty-four, you know.

The Beginning of the End...

... or is it the beginning of the beginning? Or, am I in the middle of some strange, nowhere-going continuum? I guess I’m going to have to get back to you on that one; but in the meantime, let me set the mood for you.

It’s spring of 2008. An emotionally and psychologically drained twenty-something has finally completed her goal of achieving academic stature after four long years, countless classes, innumerable study sessions, papers, exams, mental breakdowns, and a daunting 63-page paper, lovingly referred to as a “thesis”. That’s right, I dominated academia. No big deal.

Next challenge: make best attempt at being an adult.

Step 1: Move across the country with boyfriend of one year and get a place together.

Step 2: Find a big girl job that pays decently and has some sort of comprehensive benefits package.

Step 3: Accumulate some things to fill said apartment.

Step 4: Have enough money after bills, rent, student loans and groceries to lead some sort of meagre existence.

Mission: accomplished… and then some! Huzzah!

Or is it? I've never been one to be satisfied by what society views as accomplishments. In both my personal and professional life I begin to hear that little voice inside saying, "this isn't okay". I know that it's right. I know that since I can remember, I've always listened to that little voice and I've always done what it told me. It's always guided me in the right direction, toward happiness; but this time, the voice was really quiet - on its deathbed, perhaps. My passion was being suffocated by the things I had allowed into my life, things that didn't satisfy me at that deeper level, but that were just there to show the world how well I was doing "according to them". Sure, I had a long-term boyfriend, a nice apartment, dogs, a flat screen TV, I travelled, I had nice clothes, I worked my way up in my organization, and I received accolades from my peers for these said "accomplishments". But, deep down, I was totally unchallenged, unfulfilled, unimpressed, and unhappy. As M. Scott Peck once said, however, "The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers."

So now, it's time to hit rock bottom. Time to take a long hard look at my life. Time to pick myself up, brush myself off and tell myself to get a grip! There’s no way in h-e-double-hockey-sticks that I’m going to live my life in misery, accepting defeat, accepting mediocrity. Momma didn’t raise no fool.

I needed to be re-inspired. I needed to get out my spiritual defibrillator and bring my passion back to life. But how? I need to find some like-minded people to get me excited about my life again and, although I didn't know it at the time, I would find them at one of the best places in the world: the "Disney World" for music-loving adults, Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival. I can't even express in words the experience I had at Bonnaroo, all I can tell you is that I felt re-born. That little voice inside was no longer whispering to me on its deathbed, but it was the lead singer of a death metal band and it was screaming its directions to me on how I should move forward with life to find my happiness again. I was hearing it loud and clear and I was ready to make a move.

Flash-forward: it’s August 26th, 2010 at approximately 3:28pm. I have a lump in my throat the size of Pluto (don’t hate on Pluto just because it’s not a planet anymore). I am perspiring from places I didn’t think perspired. And I’m standing outside the doorway to my Director’s office with a letter of resignation in my hand. Now, I know you’re asking yourself, “Why would this successful twenty-something with a new lease on life be throwing away a profession that she’s worked her way up to, from the bottom, in just two years. She makes good money, especially for someone her age. She gets to work on interesting projects. She can actually afford her student loan payments and she still has enough money left over for all her other bills, clothes and travel. Man, this girl is crazy.”

That, my friends, is where you’re dead wrong.

A mentor once said to me, "You work to live, Allie. You don't live to work." She's absolutely right. Why should I keep doing something that doesn't make me happy when I know there is so much more out there? So you might be wondering, "What is this young gal going to do since she's giving up everything that she worked so hard to accomplish?"

Step 1: Go home to Nova Scotia to see family and friends.

Step 2: Go on a cross-Canada/US road trip to see places, family, friends, musicians and sporting events.

Step 3: Meet up with Dad in the US and travel the countryside.

Step 4: ???????

Step 5: Profit!

Just kidding about Step 5, I probably won't be making any money, but I'll be travelling for free (in return for my cooking / cleaning / set-up services), seeing the US, meeting lots of new people, and getting to know my Dad and Step-mom, Lorraine, better.

The way I see it, I can only get away with being a non-contributing member of society for so long before people start thinking I'm just lazy and lacking motivation. So, here goes nothing!