i may be on the other end of the world, but that doesn’t mean that i can’t be reached! there are a couple of ways to keep in touch while i’m gone…

by all means, shoot me an email. whenever i’m around an internet connection, i’ll be trying my best to keep up with my emails letting everyone know i’m alive.

if you don’t have a gmail account, take five minutes to sign up, download the voice and video chat plugin, hook up your webcam or microphone and catch me when i’m online. it’ll give me a chance to hear a familiar voice and show off my haggard beard.

if you’d rather simply spectate without the hassle of remembering to check out my site, plug my rss feeds for this blog and my picasa photo album into google reader and have it keep you informed whenever i add content.

http://www.dmerryman.com/feed

http://picasaweb.google.com/data/feed/base/user/dmerryman?alt=rss&kind=album&hl=en_US

following a common idiom, i removed an abundance of weight from my shoulders disconnecting from my previous lifestyle. although my backpack has been packed for a couple of months, in my anticipation and determination to travel, i’m realizing the weight i had once shrugged off of my shoulders was only waiting, in a different flavour, to be lifted and placed back in its familiar position.

just as the responsibility of finances are believed to be felt greater in the handling of cash over credit cards, i believe the responsibility of possessions to be greater felt while physically upon my shoulders rather than in some rubbermaid container in a shed.

i’m feeling more and ever aware of the differences between a consumerist lifestyle, of amassing possessions and expanding a planted footprint, versus a vagabond lifestyle, of sacrificing and prioritizing possessions in the efforts to reduce a mobile footprint.

it is a commanding feeling knowing that my experience traveling is near dependent on the twenty-five kilograms on my shoulders. not that if they were stolen or lost that my aimless direction would immediately gain direction and point to the nearest airport, but i don’t believe for any minute of my life that i have ever quantified my previous possessions and imagined their limiting effect on my personal capacity.

here, under previous circumstances, i’m sure i’d wish for no ending. how original it feels not only to disconnect without hesitation from the mainland, but also to happily step away from the lake, as i’m shortly about to do.

sleep has fled me as of lately. the few nights i’ve spent in civilization have proved very difficult with all the light and noise, but here at the cabin, i can only blame my excitement for my flight in a couple of weeks.

i’ll be stepping off this big island for the first time in my life, landing in a country whose tongue i have yet been challenged to use, completely solo, with absolutely no reservation for any hospitality and no contact to reach.

much like the lack of hesitation i’ve held for my decisions to disconnect from the mainland lifestyle, i’m not going to hesitate to step in any one direction once i’ve landed in santiago, chile. sure, my eventual destination is through patagonia to the south, but i’ve simply grown to appreciate this life with a level of randomness and an element of adventure, not to mention the lack of a safety net beneath me. i don’t wish to miss any single possible plausible experience.

i feel homeless, unemployed, alone, sleep deprived, starving,

…alive…

you can see the sheets of rain shuffling their way down the lake, you can smell the wet bark swept down the shorelines with the breeze, the lake begins to ripple a white mist, as if directing you where to travel, and the tree tops on the mountain sides begin to scrape against each other, stirring anything beneath them. as if a composition of perfect progression, the encompassing shadowless flashing lights prepare you for the storm’s actual presence; the unleashing rumbling and ground splitting thunder.

up here in the sticks, the storms have this ability to really put you in your place; a place of little meaning, control or consequence.

i thought i was going to be writing a great deal more for my weblog while living up at the cabin. it’s been such a polar opposite lifestyle change, which i imagined it would be, that i thought i’d want to share it with the world. though, i’ve sat down with a pad and pen or my netbook numerous times, writing about the day’s events, only to burn the paper or hold down the backspace key with my forehead. i found that even when complimenting the words with the library of photos i’ve shot, these words and images simply don’t serve justice to what i’ve experienced.

i’ve caught myself truly in awe of my surroundings countless times; my surroundings not only including the setting of practically all my childhood memories, but the surroundings such as the wildlife i’ve witnessed, the moons and stars that have passed by, the thunder i’ve felt, the sounds i’ve heard from behind the trees, and most especially, the genuine, dedicated and inspirational individuals that i’ve ever met, both visitors and residents of the lake.

these things, i find now, are what have drawn me up here on a more permanent basis than ever before, without me even initially knowing it. discovering these details around me and realizing the effect on my perception on such a quality of life has become my most memorable event to date. i hope the family and friends who have joined me up here over the past month have seen this in my eyes or heard it in my voice and realized what it means to me to be up here. and for the family and friends who have yet to come up, i believe you’re going to witness a very personal appreciation that is only growing.

i want to know why i’m so stimulated into daydreaming while driving up to the cabin. i love driving, especially highway driving, and find that i just naturally get into my thinking mode. i don’t get into this specific mode when heading out to the grocery store or home from work, but when i’m headed to a place that i love, a place where i feel i belong, where i hold memories, away from the rest of the world, and surrounded by things i can relate to… i fabricate ideas, prioritize projects and dream of a simplified lifestyle hosted by a simplified income. i believe that anything and everything is possible.

in the past, the best part of any trip to the cabin was the idea of my vacation being a time to relax from my nine-to-five thoughts, enjoy the solitude, and allow myself to dream anything from a realistic goal to a very unrealistic way of life.

in the past, the hardest part of any trip to the cabin was putting all these generated thoughts aside on my drive down the canyon and back into the lower mainland; reality kicks in and any dream that i had dreamt was to be archived until the responsibilities of a salary and timesheet were fulfilled.

with this extreme difference in mindsets, from the structure and boundaries to the limitless dreams and back to the structure and boundaries, i found it starting to wear away at me. i wouldn’t get as excited heading up, because i was anticipating the drive back down. and it wasn’t long before i started questioning what was truly a reality to me… is it this paycheque down in a city surrounded by things i don’t need and people i can hardly relate to? or is reality what i experience while up at the lake?

i feel i’ve just recognized that the ability to dream is very much a factor in my idea of a standard of living or quality of life. if i’m going to enjoy anything over the next two months, they’re going to be the monday mornings on the dock with my freshly pressed coffee, free from this previous confusion that i should be anywhere but here; here, where anything and everything is possible.

i was born and raised here in british columbia; educated here, worked here, stared at these grandeur mountains from all the multiple beaches, toured the local breweries, skied the world class mountains, sailed to multiple islands, driven a lot of these streets and highways, hiked some of these trails and camped at many of these lakes. and at the end of the day, i find myself bitching and complaining and worrying about little and very insignificant things. and it’s these little things, which i’m letting bother me, which pull the drapes in front of all these surroundings that others would die to experience. i’ve recognized that i’m spoiled.

vancouver has got to be one of the highest standards of living in the world, and i’m finding myself unhappy while in the middle of it. maybe it’s because i was born and raised here, that my perspective of this place is taken for granted, compared to others who have worked or made sacrifices to be here. whatever the case, i realize that i need to develop my perspective of this place, i need to see it from another vantage point, and i truly need to experience what it’s like to not have these surroundings at my disposal or at my convenience. basically, i need to remove this safety net from under me and experience a culture shock.

i don’t know if it’s possible to choose a culture shock, but i’d imagine that if i were to experience one, it would be at the other end of the world; in a polar opposite land and culture.

back in christmas, i mentioned a trip to south america to my family and close friends and were met with all these concerns about the drug trade and kidnappings and muggings and stabbings and corruption and political instability and piranhas and food poisoning. a pretty stereotypical perspective on some of south america’s history, or at least a shocking collection of words that you wouldn’t commonly hear of in british columbia. but with these incredulous looks from some and these looks of excitement from others, i knew that this was exactly where i was destined to travel.

surely there are other places in the world where i could experience these things as well, they can’t just be confined to the boundaries of south america. but i was also taking into account the effort and sacrifices that people would have to make to get to this land, much like the sacrifices and effort that most people would have to make to experience the very condensed and expensive vancouver. and if you entertain the thought of all life originating from africa, europe and asia seem pretty close. if anybody would have had to travel a great distance to reach ‘the end of the world’, it would have been those who crossed over to north america and eventually as far south as possible. which leads me precisely to patagonia.

[photo from wikimedia commons]

this year, something resembled the flicking of a switch. i always like having an answer for things, discovering the driving force behind reason. but this time, as if original and natural, i’m comfortable not knowing the who, what, when, where and why.

all i can say is that i’ve been living a lifestyle and have recognized that it hasn’t been working for me. i’ve been holding onto these dreams that i’ve had since the age of ten, and have kept them as a photo framed and hung on my wall whenever making a decision related to school or a career or a financial decision. and i’ve felt that regardless of how i play this game, moving my framed photo from a bedroom wall to a cubicle divider, pushing my dreams and desires aside to accommodate the socially acceptable process of life, i cannot ever seem to be within arms reach of my ultimate dream. in fact, i feel myself drifting further and further from who i am and where i wish to be.

much like banging my head against the wall, precisely next to my framed photo, it took a while for me to step back and breathe and realize that it’s very possible that this generalized and socially acceptable path  just isn’t for the individual that is me.

i’ve realized that to at least be within arms reach of my dreams, i have to change my surroundings. and to change my surroundings, i have to change my lifestyle. and to change my lifestyle, i have to disconnect from this one that i’m currently living.

to my memory, there have only been a few times where i have woken up from a dream where a tune was playing so clearly and vividly in my mind. as my conscious grows among the rhythm and the structure, i find the original and unfamiliar sound fading. as my eyes open to the alarm clock next to my bed, a reminding symbol of ‘reality’ or sense of time, the sound i had discovered within myself quickly dissolves and is forever lost.

much like dostoyevsky’s account of a dream, i find the abrupt and fading memory of the tune in my moments of wakening to be inspiration to mimic what i heard and felt in my dream. and although i never reach that certain and perfect sound, i find satisfaction in my fingers exploring the fretboard patiently, ignoring the neurotic and common structure that my fingers would typically follow on any other given day, under the inspiration of more ‘conscious’ or ‘real’ surroundings.

it’s the cause and effect like this which truly reveals the power of the subconscious, and forces me to question whether i’m composing the rhythm which i feel applies or whether i’m discovering the rhythm which my mind was initially designed for.