(7 minute read)
Another year has come and gone and here I am facing another birthday. What can I say about this past year? Well it wasn’t without its own set of challenges.
I started last birthday by listing everything I was grateful for in Diary of a Restless Rebel – 5th February 2019 . In hopes that saying and writing those words would allow me to actually feel satisfied with my life. I’m not saying that expressing gratitude is pointless, but behind those words I still held high expectations of what and where I wanted to be at that time. And I was damn sure going to get there! “That’s right, 2019 is MY year!” Anyone else declare their New Year’s intentions with such determination?
I thought that statement made me look impressive and powerful like a lifeguard on the beach holding that orange rescue buoy as my gratitude, while running through the water to save a life. Have any of you actually tried doing that? It’s really fn hard unless you’re athletic and have legs for daaaays. But I stand at 5’3” and don’t spend my spare time pumping iron. So at times last year it felt as if I was the one who needed rescuing and it was my gratitude that kept my head above water. So in my case gratitude was simply not enough and I was settling and not living. I was forcing all the pieces to fit into where I wanted it to be, and not allowing things to happen that was in line with my true self. Continue reading
(12 minute read)
Talk to me about a new cutting edge idea that questions the status quo and I instantly become an advocate for spreading the word. But does adopting this new idea mean I must let go of something I worked so hard and so long for? Well, that’s when things get a bit more complicated. I’ve always taken pride in my free-spirit and progressive ways, and I enjoy being at the forefront of new ideas. But turning those concepts into reality for me, have been a bit of a struggle.
For the last 4 years I’ve toyed around with the idea of a life change, however I had no idea what I wanted to change it to. It was 2016 and I was living in London, UK. I was working as an interior designer for a luxury residential design firm, and feeling completely depleted from the daily grind. I wasn’t doing myself any favours either by enjoying late nights of revelry, and dealing with the daily incessant flow of people in one of the largest cities in Europe. By the end of that year, change arrived like a meteorite as my application for a sponsored work visa was refused by The Home Office. I was left with no choice but to return to Canada by Christmas, but officially it was called a “Voluntary Departure”. The life I knew for the past 9 years was quickly swept away when I arrived in Toronto with my life fitting into 4 pieces of luggage and 1 carry on. In the spring of 2017 still feeling homesick, I created a little London for myself: I began a new job in a similar role, moved into a similar neighbourhood in downtown Toronto and surrounded myself with similar people having similar late night situations. Here I was, back to the daily grind. Same shit, different pile comes to mind? Continue reading
(5 min read)
The other day my housemate told me of a visit from her deceased father as she napped on the sofa. I suppose to many westerners, this is a strange situation. I get it, I’ve lived a lot of my adult life as a “freethinking heathen” away from the traditions and beliefs of my ethnic heritage. However, I grew up in a house with Filipino immigrant parents. So it wasn’t all THAT bizarre as I remembered how the Filipino culture has very strong beliefs in a parallel spirit world. And I got thinking about my own experience with visitations from my own father. Continue reading
I’m preparing to visit family in my hometown next month. It’s actually a great little city and has really grown in the last decade however I’ve never liked the place much, and always felt like it was a bit of a fishbowl. I’ve also had some pretty horrible experiences as a kid in school with bullying, and never quite felt like I fit in.
Primary school had its moments, but middle school was the worst. A group of core girls really hated me, they jumped me after school one time, and got some other asshole boys to vandalise the garage at home with graffiti and eggs, they spread nasty rumours and Continue reading
I started watching a TV program on Netflix yesterday about a woman who wakes to re-live her 36th birthday over and over again after she dies an untimely death. A “glitch” in time is giving her another chance to make her life right and it had me thinking about my own life.
This morning I woke up to my own birthday and I identify metaphorically to the concept that every year we’re given another chance by the universe to set our lives right, with a restart or beginning of a new cycle. It all sounds about right? We’re on a journey thinking we’ve completed it only to begin another. But in reality we have never really finished the first. A friend pointed this out to me the other week as we caught up about all that was so-called “new” in our lives. “Flo, you’re still on the same fucking journey you were on 3 years ago when we were living in London.” Well he was right, turns out my journey is still the same, but my environment has changed, adding new challenges and insights. Continue reading
Well that’s a strong phrase I never thought I would say.
It’s a phrase that carries negative connotations because of the harmful vices associated with it. And calls up cliché images of people sitting in a circle on cheap plastic chairs in a dull community hall talking about their immoralities: alcohol, drugs, sex, porn, gambling….I must be a bad person with low morals and all sorts of problems, right?
Before you go too far passing judgement, addiction shouldn’t be a factor in deciding whether the person is immoral and bad. And what if the addiction is more benign than any of the common culprits mentioned above?
Allow me to start again. Hello, my name is Flo, and I am addicted to being unbored. Continue reading
The Hippie, the Neo-Nazi and the Exorcist…sounds like the start to a bad joke. I actually made a sarcastic comment this past weekend to a girlfriend of mine about how my next post should be about how I have a tendency to meet such idiosyncratic types. It’s no joke, I really do, and I think you’ll find it rather interesting. Here’s my story of how meeting these characters have played out over the past 6 months.
Last July I spent a weekend away to leave the hectic grip London had over me, as I wanted space to think about whether to continue with the visa sponsorship at work. So I escaped to Devon in the south western part of England. The town I visited was recommended by a good friend and had a direct train from London so was easy to travel to in a few hours. Walking down the High Street I understood what my friend meant when she described the town as having a bohemian vibe full of spiritual types, where I could find a yoga class or Continue reading