Time keeps on slippin, slippin, slippin,

Maybe it has to do with my brothers recent birthday (26! Way to go bro bro!) or perhaps my impending one (27 here I come), or my current plentitude of time, but I've been reading through my old notebooks/journals/thingymabobbers. I use those little black and red notebooks you can get at the pharmacy.

My first BRJ (Black Red Journal) spans 2003-2005. From just after finishing CBC, through till the end of my time working for CMU's Outtatown program. I went from 23 in Abbotsford through Western Canada, South Africa, and Guatemala. Tonnes of new friends and intense times and challenges.

The second goes from June 5, 2005 until the end of May 2006 when I left my job at LCBI in Saskatchewan and headed back to camp. Going from the summer in Hope when I thought I'd be going to Seattle in the fall (which didn't happen), ending up a volunteer firefighter in Yale, wintering at camp, and spending 3 months in Sk.

The distances I've covered in that time are stunning. Physically, mentally, emotionally, metaphysically, I've crossed a lot of terrain. And the books contain some of that. At times I cringe inwardly as I read some of the things I've written. At times I want to destroy the book, rip out pages, and pretend they never existed. But I don't. My struggles with self, with my concept of God, with my relationship with girls, with life, all stare back at me and sometimes I do feel slightly embarassed as I read. Yet it is all part of who I am and who I am becoming. All of the things I wrote were true to the time and view point I held when I wrote it. And it's of worth to keep and look back... even though there are some classy lines in there. Now they bring a chuckle. Then they were penned with frustration and fears, trials and tears. You bet I'll keep them. After all that pain and struggle at least I've got something to look back on.

And then there's all the other kinds of memories in there. Songs written, stories mentioned, memories recorded, quotes preserved, doodles drawn, poems penned. During those transient periods those little black/red journals have been one of the few things recording my wanderings. One of the few things that have stayed with me during my journeys other than my trusty backpack.

So perhaps I'll start a series now... going back in time... some moments from my little black/red journals.

....To Be Continued....

oh and lets post a picture for fun shall we? Sticking with the back in time theme.. here's a classy picture from my time at Camp Kawkawa with the Africa Outtatown team. Good old James and I. Gotta love his 'stache and burns. Oh James. You rock!


click on the pic if you want to see it bigger