I can’t believe it has been 10 years.
On 30 June 1989, I departed for the first of what would become a string of interesting journeys into the unknown. This was my first trip out of North America, and my first trip as an Observer.
I can’t help but be somewhat reflective upon the arrival of this date. 10 years, no matter who you are, is a long period of time. A lot of things can happen in 10 years ... certainly that is true for me.
Don’t worry — I’m not about to bombard you with a list of the things that have happened to me — that would be grounds for Amnesty International to boycott me for human rights violations.
10 years ago, I left Canada as a naive teenager, ready to take on the world without fear, not really knowing what the outside world was like. I learned a few things on that trip, but what surprised me most were the things I learned about myself. 10 years later, I’m still surprising myself, each and every day.
I suppose when I stop being surprised, I’ll stop living...
I’ve seen many changes in myself, even over the past five years. Most of my friends and family have seen these changes. If you don’t think I haven’t changed, just remember what I was like when:
a) I was in high school.
b) You first met me.
(For those of you who have met me within the past two years, you might not have really noticed much. So take my word for it. I’m certain those who have known me a while will back me up.)
The next obvious question is: What’s in store for the next 10 years? Who knows... it could be anything. Always in motion, is the future. It’s hard to see, tough to grasp, nearly impossible to predict. That’s what I find interesting about it — the inability to classify it properly. It scares some people, frustrates others. For me, it’s another challenge to overcome.
Today, the Observer is 10 years old, and is ready to enter his decade of development. With luck, the Observer will keep me young when I start getting old (particularly important, since my birthday comes up in a couple of weeks).
Tomorrow, Allison and I are off to scare the inhabitants of the Okanagan. You’ll hear about it on Monday.