At a tender age of seven years old, my parents decided it was time for our family to move from our cozy two bedroom house in East Vancouver to a bigger one in the more affluent neighborhood of North Burnaby. In my short while living in East Van, I made some amazing best friends and still remember the playdates with Anna, Amy, Galton and Suzanna. I was extremely heartbroken after learning we were going to move and I would have to say goodbye to my closest friends.
Communicating hasn’t always been easy for me. If I had a problem, or felt a little anxious or depressed, I bottled up my feelings. I’d hang on to my feelings of stress and take it out on others, passively or sometimes directly with spiteful words. And saying sorry for my behavior was out of the question. Sorry? What does that mean anyway?
Healing is a word we sometimes use loosely without much thought to its profound power and value. Externally, we are constantly healing, replacing dead skin cells and old hair follicles. Internally, healing takes place in a different way. It requires a lot more self awareness and motivation.
Inspiration strikes sometimes when we least expect it. It can come from any direction and could be a chain reaction of events that sparked the ideas. As I rose up from my bed, I picked up my journal and began scribbling down ideas on what I want to do next to promote mental health awareness.
I’ve never been a “handyman” and it still puzzles me especially in this day and age, we still call it a handy “man”. Let’s just say, I’m not very good when it comes to fixing or building things at home.
When it comes to being a Man, what’s more important to me has been listening, sharing thoughts, being compassionate, being encouraging, sharing my feelings and challenging others to think deeply for themselves. That’s been more of my scene ever since I could remember as a kid, but I’ve only finally come to embrace in the last 5 years.