Early in April, I had my first class in a ten week pottery course, the first fine arts class I’ve taken since grade 8. That same week, I participated in the first of five sessions as part of a train-the-trainer workshop for Thrive RU, essentially my first foray into group therapy. Each Tuesday in April, I rolled out of bed, biked down to campus, and began my morning in a session with a collection of other folks across RyersonSA, and we worked through the five-factor model of resilience, guided by Dr. Diana Brecher. Later, I rode up to Clay Design to learn how to wedge, center, throw, tool, and glaze to make creations all of my own.
Lately I’ve been limiting my personal time spent online scrolling through so-called news feeds; this is ironic for two reasons. The first being my job requires me to work extensively online in blogging, social media, and video conversations, promotions, and creations. The second is I recently upgraded my phone and needless to say moving up in the smartphone world and yet turning off my data is a little backwards. But, I have a feeling my changing online habits are actually thanks to my job rather than in spite of it.
There are days when I wake and I know, nearly upon opening my eyes or sometimes as I brush the last remains of dreams from my consciousness, that “Today will be a lonely one.” Not in the sense of being alone, it is rare in Toronto to find myself at any point actually “alone”, but in the sense that there are days, rare enough that I can’t call it chronic but often enough that I recognize the signs, when I have no desire nor willingness to engage with any other persons. On these days, I prefer, in fact I may describe it more as a “need,” to be and to feel lonely. Sometimes it is in the sad way that loneliness is most readily interpreted, but other times it is simply just the feeling of being alone.
Finally, I have found the time to write a long overdue update on my work, or as I like to put it, “what I’ve been up to for the past six months” (this also reads well as “why you may not have heard from me in half a year”).