Rites Of Passage

An anniversary, acknowledgements and an initiation.

This piece coincides with the one year anniversary since my first publication on Substack and I would like to make some acknowledgements.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

What prompted this? I enrolled into an online writing course aptly dubbed Write Of Passage — it emphasizes finding the gumption to finally hit publish through the encouragement of healthy peer pressure and tight deadlines. I had already written several hundreds of thousands of words prior in the privacy of my journals with an occasional piece on Medium here or there at the glacial cadence of about once a year.

In the span of five weeks, I had published more than the previous five years. All of this is to say, to give credit where credit is due. Thanks to David Perrell for starting it all.

Speaking of credit, I would also like to honor my writing colleagues with whom I formed a fellowship in the aftermath of the course:

• Silvio Castelletti, the prime culprit, whose delightfully meandering takes on life offer unexpected perspectives reminiscent of vintage vinyl, VHS home videos, and Polaroids in word form.

• Yehudis Milchtein, the chief co-conspirator, who writes dreamlike reveries straddling the past, present and imagined futures alongside vignettes from her uptempo life in constant motion — a kind of journalistic surrealism and first-person portraiture.

• Michelle Varghoose, who writes about her transition from corporate to creative as a podcaster and writer.

• Rachael Tiss, who writes beautifully on human connection, work and play.

• Oscar Obregon, who interlaces his love of cinema and filmmaking with his own wide array of technicolor life experiences.

• Charlie Becker, though relatively recent, he is a most welcome addition to the roster, Charlie is a powerhouse of prolific writing across the gamut — memoirs, book reviews, viral essays, and fiction.

Since the group’s inception, we’ve maintained meeting once to twice a week. It is highly probable I may not have kept up this momentum without them as statistics would suggest. Coincidentally, Canadian Thanksgiving was celebrated this past weekend.

So, to my writing colleagues, thank you for your friendship and conversations so far.

To many more.

The other thing I want to acknowledge is that as I wrote last week, I am embarking on a trip into the backcountry desert. As such, my streak of consistently publishing every Wednesday will be broken.

So be it.

It’s funny how we say we’re going “off-grid”, or “unplugging”, or “disconnecting” as if the modern convenience of electrical grids and telecommunication coverage were anything short of astounding in the context of history.

Really, I imagine it to be just the opposite: to reconnect with other stalwart souls on the grid of Nature, capital N, attuning to the circadian rhythms of the world without interference from our own well-meaning cultural artifacts – artificial lights, digital technology, screens, etc.

Even the privilege of taking such a trip drips with irony being that such an expedition wouldn’t even be possible without other kinds of artifacts – marvels of technical achievement to manipulate warmth (generating & maintaining) and water (purifying and storing on the one hand; repelling and keeping things dry on the other).

As an aside, I recall learning about the Amish. While often considered Luddites who shun all technology, I recall learning that they are actually quite discerning in their adoption of technology – it must pass the test of whether or not the technology in question will contribute or hinder social cohesion. Perhaps we would do well to adopt such considerations in our own lives with greater deliberation.

Going Dark

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

During one of the briefing calls for the trip, there was a two-pronged breakout prompt: what am I most stoked and spooked about?

While there are many things to be stoked about including learning survival skills and witnessing a solar eclipse, I eagerly anticipate being awestruck by the star-studded night skies of an open desert.

We shall see.

On the other side of the coin, there are many fears — injury, death, physical exhaustion. I think the one that weighs most heavily on me though is the social fear of being the weakest link or slowing the group down. It’s an old fear baked into our biology. Exile means death.

Alright folks. That’s it for now. I have a plane to catch.

I’m going dark.

See you on the other side.