danielbaylis.ca

Dear Family and Friends,

I’ve decided that it’s time to break-up with my blue jeans.

Despite a dynamic relationship that has stretched over two years – including a six-month elongation period thanks to some patches on the knees – this second set of denim skin has reached its end point. Denim death is impending. The jeans have begun to shred apart in un-sew-able ways, and the score of paint marks and red-dirt stains has moved these bottoms beyond ‘vintage-chic’ to become ‘tattered grubster.’  I am one lunge away from a full-ventilation, ass-exposing tear. Which might be sexy in some situations. But I have to maintain my modest reputation.

[that last sentence was COMPLETE bullshit]

Chances are you’ve also had a great pair of blue jeans, and you know that saying goodbye is actually quite difficult. I tend to avoid an immediate, painful goodbye by placing well-loved jeans at the back of my closet. And then, a year later, I pull them out and wonder why I’m still holding on to them. At this point, I’m ready to let go.

But I have come to the end point of this specific pair of jeans, and a slow goodbye is not an option. I’m traveling, and the emotional luxury of clinging would only add weight to a load that not be bigger. The burden of my backpack begins to chip away at my sentimentality, and after a couple of blocks of wobbling with all my possessions, its amazing how I can feel at ease in saying goodbye to the superfluous.

I try to keep it light enough to travel.

These particular jeans are special because they have represented an exciting period in my life. When I started my job as a blogger for Tourisme Montreal, these blue jeans were purchased for a special soirée. Over the next two years I wore them regularly, hoping that I might be mistaken for a dude with fashion sensibilities and a knowledge of what was hip. I don’t know if it worked for other people, but the jeans certainly helped to convince myself that I was stylish.  So now I say goodbye to my blue jeans, and perhaps my stylishness as well.

My travels have become a series of goodbyes. Each month I meet wonderful people, and have moments of laughter and good conversation. And then there is a subsequent “cheerio’ that inevitably follows: the awkward hug and kiss on the cheek and palpable element of the ‘unknown.’

When will we be together again? I never know the answer to this question.

I sometimes wonder how this continuous parting will affect me. At first I thought it was good. All this ‘transitory-ness’ keeps me in a practice of nonattachment. But now I look upon these short-term relationships with a certain neutrality in terms of my own psychological/spiritual impact. Buddhism (among other spiritual practices) teaches that nonattachment is a helpful strategy to avoid suffering. But I’m realizing that I don’t want my life to be constructed around an aversion to suffering. I’m not going to keep my favorite pair of blue jeans on the shelf, for fear of having them stained. No, I’m going to wear the shit out of them.

I suppose I’m going through a specific period in my life, one where I explore a lifestyle that is laced with temporary-ness. And there is value in it. I’m having various types of experiences in relatively short time frames. This provides many rich opportunities for learning. And I’m flirting with the romantic idea that I can have authentic and meaningful interactions with people, and then we can simply bid each other adieu.

Essentially, my travels have become a series of one-month stands. I’m a social slut, a vagabonding conversationalist whore. I will love you. And then I will leave you. That’s how the reservation serves. But it’s not vindictive. I do not act with any sort of malicious intent. Instead, each person knows that our time together is limited, and perhaps that provides the motivation to enjoy it while it’s there.

And heck, that’s exactly what life is – a limited time frame to optimize meaningful experiences.

So whether these experiences come in the form of life-long companionships or two-hour friendships, I’m happy to have engaged. And to all the folks I’ve met so far on this journey, I thank you. I am grateful for the candidness in conversation, the heartiness in the laughter and the sweetness of the stories. I salute the openness it takes to connect, despite knowing that our time together might be fleeting. Our time together IS fleeting.

And to my blue jeans, we had a good couple of years. Upon my return to Canada, I’d like to take another stab at stylishness. It will be hard without you.

Thanks for the good times.

xoxo

Daniel

PS: Here’s one of my travel anthems…

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