25

There is no special song for 25, like there was for 24. I suppose I could write one, but it wouldn't be the same. Song or no song, that's how old I am now.

Not too long ago, I figured that by the age of 25, most people should have a pretty good idea of who they are and where they're going. Did that pan out in my case? I suppose it depends on how good an idea has to be to qualify as pretty good. If you set the bar at 14%, I think I'm almost there. The last month or so has been a real exercise in waiting, listening, and finding a path. When I came back from Mexico, there was no option that didn't attract me on some level. More international work, living in Montreal, travelling in Europe, working on a farm, working for a big engineering firm, these were all options that I turned away from only after much agonizing and a genuine sense of loss.

Earlier this week I decided I had found the job I wanted, and today it was offered to me. It's at a firm called Neegan Burnside. They are small, just 10 people, and they do small projects, and inspect water plants, almost exclusively up north. I would still be based in Winnipeg, but there will be a fair amount of travel. I'll be starting there soon--perhaps in a week or so. This means that the time of dabbling has been abandoned to the oblivion of future plans that never see the light of actuality. At the interview for this job, they were saying that they really need someone to start right away, and my intuition told me it was the way to go. So, finally I have a job, a plan, a direction, a sense of being on my way, where I should be--whatever that means--just in time for 25.

It may be noted that I am batting .500 for resolutions to major life questions today. While I polished off "where will I work?" quite soundly, I didn't fare so well with "where will I live?". See, there was this place that I was looking at, with my buddy Jesse, and damn, it was the kind of apartment that makes you say, "I like this apartment and would like to live in it." Ai, like Tantalus, stooping low to slake his thirst with the waters in which he is forever condemned to wade, I laid my claim to the apartment, only to find that it was already off the market. The view from the balcony was legendary. Kingdoms have fallen for meaner things. But the search will go on, for time will not suffer to wait.

I hope this will be the last post for a while focused on me and figuring out my life. Since I'm 25, and have the questions of who I am and where I am going more or less licked (right...), I can focus on other people and the stories waiting to be told from the lives and environment around me. We'll see, but I do know that there is something liberating about focusing on the journey rather than worrying about gaining ground on any particular destination.

These are my last days at the Langside Ecological House. It's been a good run. More on this house later, I should think.