Travel is a drug.  And I'm addicted.  This is humorous to me since, as of four months ago, I had never left the continent.  I mean, come on, I'm one of those people that used to pray that I wouldn't be called into missions work.  

I returned from Scotland and was surprised at the post-travel mood that I've only just shook off two weeks after returning home.  Scotland was euphoric, Swaziland mystical and Vancouver...suddenly too known.

The only thing that's kept me going suddenly is the fact that I'm going to Swaziland again in a week.  I fear that this new discovery--a love for foreign lands--has irreversibly changed me.  Now days home must be intermingled with the hope of an approaching trip.  

I grew up moving every few years.  Texas, New York, Boston, Winnipeg, Calgary, California and Vancouver.  I remember leaving university, looking forward to having 100% control over where I lived.  A few years ago I realized I crossed the mark where Vancouver is the place I've lived the longest.  That used to be a dream.

Now, I find myself constantly looking at photos of recent adventures, dreaming of how different life could be.  I used to be addicted to routine, now I get depressed at the thought.

The hopeful lesson that has come from this is that we can change.  A belief I have to cling to: that people can change, that anything  can change.  

So, what's next?

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Emotions are fickle. Without much logic, I find that they control most things. Strip off the layers of logic—psueudo or real—and you will find nothing but emotional drivers.

My "I am woman, hear me roar/I can do anything boys can do, I can do it better" pride and shit-filled mantra from my childhood is usurped every day by my emotions, female emotions at that. I once said to my boss, "Give it to me straight. Leave the suger-coating off and give it to me raw." I cried the very next day in front of that same boss. Emotions are ran from and hidden, but they always play a starring role, whether it is in the conclusion or in the sequel.

All you males out there know, however, that emotions—though possibly different in flavour—are just as powerful. Whether it be ego, anger or envy, male emotions are equally as powerful drivers at the boardroom table and the kitchen table. Often masked more often with logic, the emotions are still just as powerful. Lucky for you, your emotions are actually socially acceptable in the workforce. If I have my way, however, emotional leadership is the next cultural wave.

Ironically emotions are fickle and forming all at the same time. While always a result of something real, and often logic free, they are filled with a power to form everything. They form our mood, our priorities, our work, our health and our relationships.

So the question is: how atuned are you to your emotions? Are you listening to them? Are they a priority? Do you sit in them, like one savours a cup of morning coffee, and feel them to the end?

Everything Must Change

Brian McLaren has a new book called "Everything Must Change".  I have not read it yet, though the title intrigues me.  The title presupposes that there is a goal to be met, a standard that, once reached, all is well.

I remember the day I realized I was living for a standard that didn't exist.  Still in my striving days, I remember talking out loud about why I had never experienced freedom, realizing that it was because I was striving towards a personal perfection that didn't exist.  

Though linked to personal standards, McLaren's title tips me towards thinking he is suggesting that there is a communal standard.  I don't think such a standard exists.  A stasis that makes one act worthy and the other not.  A goal that, to be Christian, one must know and constantly work towards.

This is all somehow linked to absolute truth.  Ironically, I believe in absolute truth.  I also absolutely believe that we can't know absolute truth here on earth.  Because sometimes a lie is okay, swearing necessary and stealing just.  Not to mention that none of us can prove anything exists, that we are here right now, that here exists as we know it.  

Fortunately, or unfortunately, I think that striving, while not the point, is still required.  That we all must still strive for ultimate goals that don't exist.  That there are problems that have to be solved.  That the work isn't done.  I suppose that makes all of it about the means, not the end.  Since the end doesn't, in essence, exist.

I still don't know what to do when we realize that there is no standard here on earth. Or how exactly to have hope if any kind of preconceived fake standard isn't possible.   

I guess I should just read the book.

Pirates Who Don't Do Anything

Today I took my wee friend Jared (a.k.a. my friend Meg's son) to see some vegetable pirates. Auntie Kelly just wouldn't have lived up to her rep as the cool urban aunt if she hadn't brought pirate eye-patches for the show!

Action.  It's a new revelation of mine that I am addicted to action.  I spend my days going to meetings with action points already in hand, with all the research done and with all the counter-arguments prepared.  If I'm not acting, my mind must be.  If we didn't come to more action points through discussion, then the agenda was not met.

Then there is the church meeting.

Inaction.   There is a lot of smiling, staring and seemingly invaluable comments, to be crass.   We all talk about how we know one another, what we might do and how cold it is outside. I am left wanting.  What did we accomplish?  A whole lot of snack eating and a whole lot of nothing. 

My boyfriend says that I drive like I live.  Go, go, go, go, go, go....STOP!!!!!  It's action that I am addicted to, immediately just before it hurts me.  Besides restoration and thinking, is there really any valuable to inaction?  

The perfect holiday...

It's 3 a.m.   I've just returned from Scotland and I must admit that I am incredibly sad.  It was the perfect trip and suddenly anything less adventurous is equally less appealing.  Scotland was beautiful, full of history and friendly people.  It was also wet and terribly cold.  But nothing could stop us from exploring the countryside and good friends.  

Day 1:  Glasgow

Dean, Amanda, Trev, Ali, Dianna and me took the train to Glasgow, Scotland's biggest city.  My favourite moment had to be chats and laughs at Strata, a great cocktail lounge where we, ironically, sipped pints.  We then went for a glorious dinner in a room full of chandeliers and gourmet burgers and chips.  

* All photos taken by Trevor Meier

Day 2: Aberdeen

Snow beckoned us to stay close to home.  A wander through Aberdeen and two trips to starbucks led us to Kileu, a great cafe with Trevor's favourite food as of late: crepes.  We sat, had serious and intense conversation (Trevor and my favourite past time) which led to a perusal of Aberdeen's Art Gallery.  It was an impressive collection and Louise Hopkins is a new favourite.  

Day 3 & 4:  Edinburgh

Trev and I headed off on our own to Edinburgh, Scotland's hippest city.  I'm pretty sure I've never seen so many restaurants in one place.  We trekked up the Royal Mile and through Edinburgh Castle.  A fabulous cafe called Always Sunday became our favourite.  I highly recommend the chocolate chip shortbread and hot chocolate eaten while playing Truth or Dare.

Day 5:  Old Aberdeen

Dean, Amanda, Trev and I trekked to Old Aberdeen which included the beautiful University of Aberdeen, Seaton Park and incredibly picturesque neighbourhoods that made me feel like I was in the movies.  Just like Kate Winslet's home in the Cotswalds in The Holiday.  We then had smashingly good burgers - mine Hawaiian - and chips (aka fries or Scotland's salad) and cokes at a great pub I wish I could remember the name of.  Great conversation on church, psychology and family made those chips taste even better.  An evening visit to Gerrard Street Baptist Church capped off a great sabbath.

Day 6: Stonehaven

The small fishing village of Stonehaven paved the way for a romantic jaunt to the Stonehaven War Memorial and Dunnotar Castle.  It was an incredible hike that made Trevor and I reflect how incredibly blessed we are to have the chance to see such sites.   

Day 7:  Aberdeenshire

A lovely lunch with my mates, speed shopping with lovely finds and a fantastically long authentic Indian dinner surrounded a - let's say brisk - walk through Footdie.  Footdie being Aberdeen's original village, quite literally a small town on an incredibly beautiful beach that revealed just how short the original Aberdeeners were.  The doors on each home were oh so hobbit size.  We enjoyed the day so much that we didn't even let the weather stop us.  Here we are as a happy crew of drowned rats...

You simply must go to Scotland if given the chance.  A good chunk of time is certainly required. A huge thank you to Dean and Amanda for the oh so perfect accomodations and being our pseudo travel guides.   I miss you both!