Fresh

This is nothing new.  Well, new to you maybe.  I don't really know what this is going to become, it's just a spot for me to write so that my mind doesn't explode.  I guess I'll start with some basics about me.

I was born and raised in Moncton, NB, Canada, which is a good city but when you live there for 18 years, you learn to hate it.  But I guess that's like anywhere.  I live in Halifax, NS, Canada, now for University.  I go to the University of King's College/Dalhousie University.  I'm going to major in Journalism, but this year I'm just taking electives (International Development Studies, Ethics and the Good Life, Myth into Film, German, and Reporting Techniques).  I love school.  I love learning, even though I don't understand a lot of stuff at first.

That's enough of that.  Now I want to get to the real reason I want to write all of this.  All I want is to discuss what I think and what I see and silly little things that I think I'm the only one who notices them.

Passion is, to me, one of the vital parts of our existence.  Without passion we would become nothing.  The problem is knowing where your passion lies because so many people don't know what truly makes them happy about life.  Some people have passion for music, actually most people do.  Some people think they have passion for music when really they just like music and that's it.  Passion is easily confused with just liking something.  

My passions are endless.  I love little things like seeing a dog roll around in the grass, and seeing the way someone looks from the side.  I love having my hair touched.  I like hearing an old song I haven't heard in years.  I love wishing there was a way to vocalize and spell out instrumental music.  I like smelling bread in the air.  All these insignificant things add up and make life feel good.  They add up to a bigger passion, and I don't even know what it is yet.  Maybe my passion is life.

Yesterday in IDS we watched a 60-minute film about the people of Ladakh, a small region in the Himalayan Mountains in India.  These people are so high up in the mountains that their agriculture is difficult but for the longest time they managed, were self-sufficient, and didn't rely on material things or money to make them happy.  You should have seen their faces.  They were dirty and didn't have anything and they were happier than half of the people I know.  And you know why?  We think iPods and TV and nice clothes make us happy - and maybe they do but it's not real happiness, it's temporary - but really, those things just make us more unhappy and worse off because of their results.  We have to work to make money, then we spend our money on these things we don't need.  And then when we actually do need something, we don't have the money for it.  It's a vicious circle.  I don't even know what else to say.  Oh yeah.  Anyways, so these people were perfectly happy, and then influences from the Western World came in and they started building roads, and importing goods instead of supporting local farmers.  Garbage started collecting in the streets, in the fields, and in the water.  So-called 'modern' civilization ruined them.

It's heartbreaking and I don't know what to do.