Acceptance and Appreciation

I think that I’m beginning to accept the break-up and appreciate it for what it is and what we had.  Not everything works out in life the way that we want it to, so that, oftentimes, we find ourselves forced to seek alternative routes in learning life's lessons.  However, this is difficult to accept and plan for, since we lack such foresight and are typically resistant to change. Perhaps, he and I had learned all of the lessons that we possibly could from each other and our relationship at this point in our lives; however, this exchange may have also simply become much more challenging with the miles between us.

Yet, during our time together, I did learn that it is possible to love and maintain a strong connection at a distance, and that though love may falter, it doesn’t fade, as long as the desire and effort to rekindle it is still there.  I learned that I can truly be an individual and live my life rather separately from a significant other, and that I can pursue my dreams in this way without guilt and regret.  And the break-up itself is yet another lesson in letting go and not hanging onto and fixating on someone who is not there or something that cannot be changed. 

For now, the distance certainly helps to cushion this moving on process, since British Columbia lacks the reminders of home.  Yet, the reminders that I do experience have triggered the happy memories, instead of anxiety over the errors and disagreements that occurred during the relationship, which is a shift in my usual post-relationship focus.  In the past, there have usually been things that I could have done differently to make circumstances better, easier, or to make my relationships persist instead of fail.  Initially, I did resort to this mode of thinking, wondering what I did wrong this time.  Granted, there are always improvements to be made and this relationship was far from perfect, as we are both imperfect humans.  Yet, we simply grew apart, or he grew apart, as the case may be, and there is nothing that either of us could have done differently without making unnecessary self-sacrifices, which was never an option.  There is a reason for all of this, but it has yet to be revealed; only in time.

Wanting More

Why is it we always find ourselves wanting more, wanting something better, or even wanting something that we cannot have?  What is so unsatisfactory about the present?  It was once something that was wanted, but now that is has been attained, it is somehow less desirable.  Everyone here, interns and staff, are here for a reason; they have a passion for animals and caring for them.  Yet, we quickly get bogged down by the work, the rushing, the chaos, the schedules, so that we seem to forget about this overarching reason.   

At least it seems this way, we complain about schedules, long hours, shift disorganization, not enough time off.  Why would we necessarily want time off if this is what we wanted to be doing with our lives?  We should want to help and learn as much as possible in the limited time, for which we are here.  There is really little time for complaints.  And I certainly fall into this as well.  I look forward to my days off, so that I may relax and have time to myself, though this is important as well.  However, it is difficult to get myself going again and get pumped for work the next day.  

It is amazing how such a unique experience, doing something that one loves can so quickly become old hat, part of the daily grind.  What does this suggest?  Is it not one’s true passion?  Is it just challenging to love the job as a whole if there are certain aspects of it that are much less appealing?  Do we just take things for granted that easily?  It seems as if I constantly have to remind myself that I could be in a worse position, being stuck at home in some dead end job for the rest of my life.  I shudder at the thought.  Yet, I suppose that such an extreme is necessary to make me aware of what I really do have, instead of simply dwelling on the present negatives, which are quite miniscule in the grand scheme of things.

Lost Love

My love has left me and I cannot help but feel that there was something that I could have done to prevent it.  I could have done something differently, although I do not know what that something could have been.  I offered love, support, freedom, everything that one might want, but even this was not enough.  His love just petered out, as far as I can tell from what he says and what I struggle to believe.  I find myself torn between wanting him to be happy and having happiness for myself, as we are no longer united in a way for these to be analogous desires.  I find myself resenting him and then reprimanding myself for being so contradictory.  It is through these challenging times that I need to stand by my philosophies the most.  I need to let go.  Perhaps it was just not our time, or our time was just limited to this past year, when we needed each other in our lives the most.  I do not expect him to enter back into my life, as finished relationships never seem to work out this way, at least not for me.  There usually develops too much awkwardness and remains too much lingering emotion, longing.  Friendships with former lovers generally tend to not be sustainable, which I have always found to be unfortunate, but it is what it is. 

The positive point that I am trying to focus on and take away from all of this is that I now have even greater freedom.  I can seek out job/internship/volunteer opportunities the world over without the thought at the back of my mind about how a relationship will be affected and if I will still be able to maintain contact from wherever I end up.  Even though, I had greater access to electronic communication this time, it did not matter.  Though, it is a two way street, I suppose.  Uggh!  I am supposed to be focusing on the positive!  I can go anywhere I want, do anything I want, enjoy my life, my travels.  This is what I needed to do over a year ago, but I got a bit distracted.  Fortunately, not distracted enough to completely overlook myself, as I have done in the past.

The Flame Extinguished

If you love someone, then let them go, right?  But why would they want to leave if it’s true love?  I start questioning myself:  What did I do wrong?  Did I not cherish him?  Did I smother him?  Why am I so easy to cast aside?  I suppose, it was inevitable with the distance, his interest in seriously dating other women, the unknown time apart.  I gave him the freedom to leave, so why not take advantage of it to be with a woman who wouldn’t allow him that same freedom?

I feel like we’ve been out of touch with only the occasional Skype calls and Facebook chats.  How can that limited time cover everything that we’ve been going through and allow us to develop deeper discussions?  I feel resentful, but I don’t want to be.  It’s what I wanted him to do; live without regrets.  I should be supportive.  But it still hurts; it’s still going to be painful, as it is still a break-up. 

This was OUR worst fear, that we would fall in love with other people, that we would lose what we had.  We had so much!  We had something solid, founded in love, understanding, support, challenge.  Why wasn’t it worth the wait this time?  I’ve been missing him so much, and now he’s not even there.  I can’t go back.  He can only be a figment of my dreams.  This all seems so surreal.  It was unexpected, at least in the moment.  I was hoping it would never be true, that he would never leave, and I think that I actually believed that for a time because I knew how he felt.  Or so I thought.  I can’t really know what he's thinking, what he's feeling.  What DO I know? 

Perhaps, I needed to lose that light in my life, so that I can make my own.  Everything happens for a reason, right?  I do still need to work on myself and my goals.  And I couldn’t have done much else in the relationship; it’s a two way street.  I have no idea what’s going through his mind and I don't feel like I can trust his words, which are merely used to attempt to cushion the pain and make it easier for him to leave.  I don’t feel terribly special or important, even though he says he still cares.  I feel second rate, like an old rag doll (Raggedy Ann) cast aside, as her newness and charm has faded.  What use is she anymore, especially in a society of upgrades and commercialism? 

It is what it is.  Just let it be.  If I push and harass, it will only drive him farther away and I will be contradicting myself and my principles in love.  Let him be for awhile.

How Different Life Could Be

It is interesting to think that if I had made a slightly different decision from miniscule to major life choice, then I would not be where I am today; I would not be who I am.  It is also rather sad and a bit scary that my life would not be as it is, since, overall, I am happy with the direction, in which I am going, whether I know where it may lead or not.  To think that I may have never met the people who I know or have befriended, that there would be things I never learned, places to which I never traveled!  These factors have all created my experiences and lessons in life and shaped it into what it is in the present.  There are certainly aspects of myself that I would improve upon, but that is one’s life work.  And of course, in hindsight, some things may have had a better alternative approach, but again, the slightest difference would drastically change the whole of my life.  So I really cannot regret what I have done.  I can only recognize my errors and heighten my awareness of them, so that I may prevent them from reoccurring again, when I notice similar signs arising.  I can learn to appreciate what I have learned from my experiences, even the most uncomfortable situations, which becomes easier with the passage of time.  Yet, some take longer to find the good in or to let go of than others.

From Trauma to Release

In other news, the rescue season has begun to pick up here.  We are up to twelve premature seals, which can be quite a handful, as they tend to be very weak and can suddenly crash due to hypoglycemia.  Our first seal experienced this shortly after he arrived and several more times over the course of about three days, which required intravenous therapy through the blood vessels of the vertebrate of his spine.  It was quite impressive to watch the veterinarian quickly feel around a bit and poke the needle into exactly the right spot.  Unfortunately, due to the intravenous therapy and often being unconscious, meals had to be skipped, which also did not help his blood sugar level to improve.  The outcome was looking kind of grim, since the veterinarian had never seen a seal crash so many times and over such an extended period of time.  However, he has recovered quite well since then, and on sunny days, is being spoiled with his own private visits to one of the seal nursery pools, as the others are not stable enough to leave isolation at this time. 

It has been quite rewarding to attend the releases of our recovered patients.  Our efforts all seem to be worthwhile in those moments.  Before I arrived at the center, two little goslings (geese babies) came in, still fluffy with their down feathers and took up residence in a baby play pen.  One had a leg injury, I believe from either a dog or cat attack, yet he seemed to be in good spirits.  Later on, they got another buddy, who they took to quite quickly, as they would cuddled up close together with each other and the goslings in their little mirror.  Eventually, they graduated from their play pen to an outdoor enclosure behind the clinic, from which they would always try to follow out whoever was leaving with a stampede of little webbed feet and a chorus of chirps. 

In the bird department, once the leg wound on one injured gosling had healed, the swimming pool was filled for them to begin the waterproofing of their feathers.  Several days later, another group of three other goslings arrived, smaller than our current residents, and they had to be gradually introduced.  The first day that their play pen was moved into the outdoor enclosure, so that they could all see and become familiar with each other, the younger ones were extremely excited, frantically side stepping and pecking at the mesh screen.  It was as if their imaginary friends in their little mirror had suddenly manifested themselves into existence. 

Unfortunately, the older goslings did not take too well to these newcomers, as I discovered when I took the little ones out of their play pen later on to clean it and to see how initial interactions would go.  The older ones immediately took to nipping at and bullying the others, so I frantically switched out all of the soiled linens and moved the little ones back into their safe haven.  Apparently, this behavior is like a rite of passage, an establishment of the pecking order within the group, yet the new goslings were still a bit too fragile to withstand such treatment.  I do not believe that I was on shift the day that they were finally all joined together, and soon after that, they were moved to a larger enclosure in the woods with a luxurious in-ground swimming pool that circulates oxygen and keeps the water somewhat clean.  They were not sure what to make of this new environment and had to be ushered into the water.  They bonded well during the weeks that they spent there together. 

Soon enough, the day of release was at hand.  There are several people on the island, who volunteer their property for wildlife releases and the property that we went to on this particular day had been purchased by a couple to preserve the land as it is for the wildlife.  Their house sits right on the coast and on one side is a little inlet, where a gaggle of geese had been observed regularly in the evenings, so the hope was to integrate our six into this group.  Only two people went down to the beach with the carrier to physically release the goslings, and just like their move to the swimming pool in the woods, they had to be ushered down the beach into the salt water. 

It only took one of them to jump in for the others to follow suit.  The staff were hoping that the goslings would mingle with the family groups of mothers and babies that were slightly younger than themselves, but they instead met up first with some older geese and the establishment of pecking order began.  No one seemed to be seriously beaten on or injured, and they all settled down after a short time, as the newcomers had been accepted.  It became difficult to identify our goslings among the crowd, yet we kept watching from the windows of the garage, fascinated by this socialization process, and feeling satisfied with the payoff of our time and effort spent raising them, like proud parents.

Contra Dancing and Other Fun in Victoria

Coincidentally, on my birthday, there was also a contra dance taking place in Victoria, which was a huge deal, as dances only occur once a month, instead of weekly like they do back home.  I have really been missing my weekly contra dancing fix.  Once, I tried tango here, but it was not worth the fifteen dollars.  The movements are very precise and in time to the music, and it seems that one needs a good grasp on the basics, before beginning to actually dance.  I had no patience for this and have not been back since.  With contra, you can just jump in, people offer guidance as you go, and it is more about having fun than getting the moves right. 

Anyways, I made a day trip of Victoria, getting dropped off in town by another intern to catch the Salt Spring Island transit over to Fulford Harbor, which was quite a bit cheaper than paying for gas.  On the crossing to Schwartz Bay in Sidney, I noticed dark fins in the distance ducking and resurfacing in the water.  After having been pointed out to me a handful of times while on Sherkin Island, I determined that they must be porpoises, and they are often about the Gulf Islands at this time of year, as are the whales. 

The express bus takes one hour to drive from Sidney to downtown Victoria, but I was in no hurry with plenty of time before the dance that evening and a three o’clock check-in time at the hostel.  I always seem to panic on public transit, since I have no idea where I am going or how a city is organized.  I do not feel like I have a good view of things and am unable to determine for myself where I am and where I need to go.  I generally prefer to walk so that I can take in everything and feel like I have more control over my travels.  However, I made it into downtown without a problem, quickly located the hostel, and then headed straight for the Polish deli/restaurant that one of the staff members had recommended to me.  It was some of the best Polish food that I have had, including beet based borscht, a thick piece of grilled kielbasa, and delicate pierogies with a variety of fillings.  I determined that I need to keep working on my own pierogies, so that maybe I can get them to taste like the restaurant’s, Cook N' Pan, which is located on Cook Street. 

I wandered around for a bit, all the way down to docks, where the ferries from the United States come in, which was loaded with tourists on holidays and weekend getaways.  I was getting tired of carrying my backpack, which I may have over packed for a single overnight, so I hiked back towards the hostel and bought a latte at Serious Coffee, which was not terribly enjoyable, as the espresso was quite bitter. 

I was glad to find that reserving beds for myself and two other interns, who would join me later, worked out because it was such a challenge trying to understand the owner on the phone with her quick and quiet speech, further complicated by a thick Asian accent.  In person, it was not much easier to understand her, but she seemed sweet and interested in my travels.  The Turtle Hostel seemed a bit quirky, but it was cozy with all of the essentials.  I have been told that it can get quite loud there with the neighbors partying, but the I was tired enough that night to not notice. 

I unloaded a bit and headed for Beacon Hill Park, which the Cook N' Pan employee had recommended.  I meandered around the ponds, observing waterfowl, people, and vegetation.  There was a wedding party doing a photoshoot by one pond and on a little stone bridge nearby.  I found one tree whose trunk gradually inclines over the pond, creating a cozy napping spot, and shielded from the walkway by some bushes.  There was another grove of large, distorted trees, which were quite enjoyable to rest on and watch the world go by. 

After exiting the park, I came upon a bookstore, and inquired about coffee shops as I checked out, since evening seemed to be closing time for several businesses.  I was referred to Habit on the corner of Blanshard and Johnson Streets for their amazing hot chocolates and mochas.  I found a little booth tucked away in the corner, where I sipped an absolutely delicious hot cocoa, complete with chocolate shavings on top of the foamy milk, and read my book. 

I decided to try walking to the dance, after I had Google mapped it again and found out that it was only half an hour walk away from the hostel.  That did not sound too bad and I figured that I could check out the neighborhood on the way to determine if it might be safe enough to walk back through that night.  I vaguely remembered a back way that Google had come up with, including lots of turns onto various streets.  I quickly became lost and asked for directions.  Coincidentally, the people who I first encountered were visiting from Philadelphia and needed to refer to the mother, who they and their children were staying with, as she was well acquainted with Victoria.  However, she did not know the street that I was looking for quite so well and brought out a map, which she lent to me, in case I became lost again. 

I located the church, at which the dance was to be held, but the parking lot looked a bit deserted.  Fortunately, as I approached the street corner, there were more cars parked along the roadside and in a lot for the community center behind the church.  I could already feel myself getting giddy with excitement.  There were only two small lines, maybe twenty or twenty-five people total.  It took a bit to relax and get back into the rhythm and flow of contra, but I was so happy to just be there and just dance!  I also discovered that I had not yet lost my spinning tolerance, after not having danced and twirled for about a month and a half, because the change is usually quick and drastic.  Although, it did probably help that many of the guys there did not engage in fancy spin tricks or lots of them.  Once some of them figured out that they could twirl me, they did, which was good fun.  I talked to some people about the contra scene back home, and after the dance, I e-mailed all of the links that I could possibly think of for dances for a guy originally from Rhode Island and interested in checking out the dance scene back home, which apparently was not as prevalent almost a decade ago.  I asked a couple of people if they knew of anyone heading into downtown, but no such luck.  On my way, all of the houses that I passed looked well maintained with manicured, green lawns, so I decided that I would be safe walking through a rich, suburban neighborhood at night.  

I was quite energized after dancing and did not fall asleep for some time, even after the long walk back to the hostel.  The other interns had gone out to some clubs, so I did not meet up with them until we all awoke the next morning.  We ate breakfast at Floyd’s Diner, which was affordable with quality ingredients and large portions.  Soon after, it was time to start catching transport back to the island for work that afternoon.  I still find it challenging to get back into work after having a day off.  It never seems like enough time to do all that I want to do, to be active, relax, and take care of household chores.  It is so nice to just do what you want with your time.