Above; This is how I used to live. I slept on the floor and rummaged through a handful of bags whenever I needed anything. Occasionally I’d rummage through a plastic container. A person may look at this and think it doesn’t look soo comfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I know that there are people out there with less and sleep on the street etc. etc. The point is compared to how I live now… This was a rough and minimalist existence.
This photo represents a significant reset. When I was younger, in my late teens and early twenties I literally lived in an apartment on the floor, outta a box. I had a box, in the box was clothing and bedding. Also a dollarama clock. A few keepsakes. That was the way till I got married (which didn’t last long) and on into my first place on my own.
I then had a bed, that was a big step up. Most of my furniture was folding or packable. I lasted on my own for about a year and then RESET. This time in Toronto. I arrived in Toronto off the train with nothing but a rucksack full of clothes and my bike.
Entering Toronto & a new relationship I really didn’t start to accumulate things like I predicted. My partner at the time had lots of life stuff, ya know like knives & forks. Her and I were similar in the sense that we didn’t really latch onto material things. If we could afford it, we had it but we didn’t lose sleep over not having the biggest TV. The biggest investment she made was a real bed. Before that it was just a box spring & mattress on the floor. The biggest investment I made… I bought a new bike. Making that bike three in my stable. Oh and a new desk! I still have it. Nice BIG work surface, that I don’t do any work on lol.
And then RESET… We broke up (I still kinda regret it). I moved outta the bedroom and into the living room where I was permitted to stay until a new place for me and my box of things could be secured; I found a place and surprisingly quick! I had a friend help me relocate. When I found that all my belongings fit into a single car load (less the bikes, cause they are awkward to fit in any vehicle cept for a truck or bike rack) there was a wave of relief & freedom that swept over me. Even my tiny new place felt like a castle.
And then RESET… I got sick; Long story short, I went a little bonkers. I couldn’t return to work and so the packing began. Again, all my belongings fit into one Toyota Corolla. Boarding a plane back to the East Coast, Halifax I began the process of starting over.
I bounced around a bit couch surfing with family, I roomed for a bit in a house full of university students (felt a little out of place as I was nearing thirty). Then I got lucky and found a kind soul handing me the keys to independence. I was destine to RESET at least one more time before discovering my arch enemy was the very thing that I was seeking feverishly. The idea and the fruition of being “comfortable”.
I have been in my current location now for over one year. I now have a bed, a desk, bookcase and nightstand with a vase. I have artwork hanging on the walls, art I picked out on my own. Some of the art I made myself. I have lamps, beautiful paper shaded lamps. I have room to work. I have room to stable my collection of bikes (which has grown to four bikes now). I have soo much stuff! More than I have ever had AND…
My comfort makes me LAZY AS FUCK! I mean sure, I leave the house every day for work and my heart really is in my work. But when I come home; I put on my favorite hoodie, turn the heat up and eat takeout in front of a movie. Usually sleep follows. I’ll sleep a couple hours and then check facebook, go back to bed. I hate checking my email, which is something I never used to let go unchecked. Waking in the morning is a drag, I don’t want to leave my warm cubby comfort for the frigid cold. I used to be hearty, fuck the cold and I’d walk, ride, ski ect. everyday! But now I take the bus. I walk fast from the door to the stop and bitch about how long it takes. I’m turning soft.
I’d ride out every night after work in Toronto to be social, drink and eat;
I was in peak adventure mode pre-treatment for my mental health. I felt like shit to such a point it was torture to sit still. I painted, joined & attended groups, fundraisers, public speaking events. I left the house every single day and never stopped from 8 Am to 8 Pm and sometimes later. But now, I’m a blop. I feel like a blop. Something needs to…