Urban Portaging
Without a Paddle
Last week, I bid farewell to my fellow writers at the U of T
, marking the end of our first Creative Writing Certificate course. One down, and who knows how many more to go!
As we shared our future aspirations and thoughts, I was reminded of the inspiring community we've built. We were treated to a guest speaker for the last half of the class.
We enjoyed listening to the insightful and talented Canadian author Amy Fish. Her words, wisdom, and wit inspired me and made me feel proud to be a Canadian woman writer. Her message was so relatable that I thought she was speaking directly to me despite never having met her. Her presentation didn’t just lift my spirits; it blew the ink out of my pen, re-igniting my passion for writing. Through her clever stories and gregarious disposition, she delivered a message on the importance of persistence in achieving goals and life in general. It was a well-needed reminder.
As my thoughts often do, one led to another and got me thinking about my experience in Toronto in the days prior. I’d been helping my son move from one end of the downtown core to another. From elevators to loading docks, moving trucks, and hand-bombing one box at a time to the twenty-first floor, I found myself urban portaging to navigate the busy streets and chaotic corridors.
On my last day before returning to the north, I was driving on Dundas Street for what felt like the fifth time when I realized I didn’t feel nervous. My hands were not white-knuckled, nor was I worried about getting lost. I barely kept up with the rapid pace of speeding drivers, but I realized I was navigating the city streets with ease and a calmness I had never felt. I parked the car and hopped on a city bike to catch the subway. There was a moment when I relished my independence. I wore an invisibility cloak, freeing myself from self-imposed life expectations.
Later that night, I thanked my son for being adventurous enough to take on the big city and pursue post-secondary aspirations. If not for his bravery, I would not have had to develop the persistence to push beyond my comfort zone. There was a time when I once refused to drive in the city or take public transportation, but I now find myself urban portaging without a paddle (I can’t get enough of that phrase)!
Persistence + commitment = improved writing (my equation for successful writing in 2024)
I am going on 242 out of 365 days of my commitment to writing, and I recognize that with practice, it gets better—not perfect, but better.
Of course, there are moments when I retreat. I seek a dim hole to bury my words, never to be uncovered, but listening to inspirational authors, such as Amy Fish, is the rope ladder I needed this past week.