The first significant journey I can remember was when my mother decided to take my brother and I across Canada by train. It was 1978, I was 4 years old, my brother was 8, and my mother was 26. We were quite the troupe.
We travelled from Ottawa to Vancouver, with a stop-over in Winnipeg to visit my aunt Kathy, my mother's older sister.
I can only remember snapshots of that trip, helped by photos I'm sure, and the stories that were recounted over the years. But there was one story that was mine alone, my brother was there but we've never talked about i...
Seriously. I revolt against routine all the time and have for as long as I can remember, ask my mom. As an infant it drove her nuts but she definitely perpetuated it by leading a heroically erratic life and dragging me along with her.
I didn't have a chance.
Let's get a few things straight first though. What do I mean by routine exactly?
Well, according to Websters, it's "a sequence of actions regularly followed, a fixed program".
And therein lies the revolt.
Sure, there are some actions I do regularly; I meditate every...