My life has been a journey of seeking freedom while grappling with self-imposed limitations, financial constraints, and a nomadic existence that, while offering unique experiences across various communities, reflects deeper struggles with discipline, alignment, and the challenges of being a creative in a system that often stifles authenticity.
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We live our lives through lenses of contradiction and contrast. Layers upon layers of programs, conditions, and patterns govern our days, often seeping into our dreams. My highest value, and one of my top priorities in life, is freedom. Yet the irony is that I’ve lived in ways that maintain limitations and barriers to that freedom — especially financially. Misaligned values around money — or the lack of it — spill over into every other aspect of my life.
I’ve lived a fairly nomadic life. From 2016 (my 40th year on this plane) to 2023, I moved 19 times, after spending five relatively rooted years in Peachland. Some of those moves took me back to towns or small cities I’d lived in before. All were fairly short-term, transient stops during this seven-year transitional period. There’s a certain freedom in that, of course. If I didn’t like a situation — and there are always reasons to complain if you look for them — I’d plan to move on, often before I’d even finished unpacking my minimalist life. But because of budget constraints, my options for living arrangements were always limited. Still, I did my best to experience life in different parts of the big island — and on smaller islands — searching for a place that might feel like home for a while. Historically, I’d move every 2-3 years, usually in the autumn.
On a side note, moving so frequently proved liberating when it came to material possessions. I wasn’t about to pay for storage for things I might not see or need for years, and with each move, letting go became easier. The hardest part, however, was downsizing and selling instruments I loved having in the studio. As for the rest, once you’re settled, you can always purchase a few necessities as needed.
Bouncing around gave me the chance to explore a variety of small cities, towns, and hamlets across Vancouver Island. My latest coastal journey began on Gabriola Island, then moved south to East Sooke, up to the remnants of the Finnish community in Sointula on Malcolm Island, and finally back to the Comox Valley for a short stint before returning to the Okanagan. In January 2022, I moved back somewhat hastily to be with my ailing father, who sadly passed away that May at 82. Between 2022 and 2023, I moved several more times, eventually heading back to the coast, landing on Texada Island in October 2023. I found a rental cottage there through a timely Craigslist ad — a serendipitous reminder of how I found my carriage house in Peachland back in 2011 while staying in Wales, in the UK. I was only able to seize the opportunity thanks to a small inheritance from my father. After years of searching, this place checks many of the boxes for my dream living arrangement.
It’s close, but it’s not a forever home. I’m grateful for this experience, as it gives me a foundation to build upon and further clarify what suits me. In general: peace and quiet, no highway noise, no light pollution, no noisy neighbors, trees and trails nearby — and, of course, the sea.
Having lived here a year, I realize this is just a baseline for my highest vision of “home.” After so much moving, it’s taken time for my mind, body, and spirit to settle and relax. Considering the intensity of events since March 2020, I shouldn’t be surprised that finding solace has been a slow process. Yet the same challenges remain. I am still who I am, and changing deeply ingrained patterns is no easy task. Even when we’re aware of how our habits hinder us, breaking free from limiting behaviors can feel impossible. Most of us will likely carry the same beliefs, programs, conditions, and ideologies to our graves — ones instilled in us during childhood.
The unpredictability of my housing situation, however, brought unexpected joys. Driving along the island highway, especially north of Campbell River where forests and expansive greenery dominate, offered peace and quiet. That sense of freedom and tranquility is similar on Texada, though on a much smaller scale. The only café I frequent is a ten-minute drive away, and the route is lined with trees and dotted with the occasional house. During my move here, while briefly exploring areas like the Sunshine Coast, I immediately felt relief from the noise, light pollution, and relentless traffic of small cities desperate to appear progressive and culturally significant. They’re not. It’s just more of the same everywhere — exacerbated by inflated prices and pervasive social programming and ideological conditioning.
Put simply, the stark contrast between shiny new towers and nearby tent cities speaks volumes about the world we’ve built. The sheer contrast and adjacent oblivious attitude is unsettling, if not ridiculous and shameful.
Money, Money, Money
As a creative — musician, artist, and writer — I’ve never managed to achieve a sustainable or consistent income. There are many contributing factors, but the primary one is a lack of persistent effort and the discipline needed to build momentum. I often struggle to consistently finish projects, whether it’s producing music, writing articles, or completing books that could help cultivate a supportive fanbase.
On the other hand, I’ve never been motivated by consumerism, productivism, or the pursuit of commercial success. My ambition tends to come in intense, short bursts: I throw myself into projects with ferocity, sometimes pulling an all-nighter or focusing relentlessly for a few months. But then the energy fades, or I feel the need to shift gears and explore something else. It’s simply in my nature to rotate through different interests and aspirations. Sustained ambition, however, is something I have to consciously force myself to entertain, because true freedom — at least for me — demands liberation from attachments. In a world driven by material needs, this approach can make life especially challenging. Without the willingness to beg, borrow, or steal — or to court patrons, financiers, or accept the compromises that come with them — a basic income is still an unavoidable necessity.
I don’t believe my work is too obscure or esoteric to resonate with the right people. Yet, I’m certain the existing system — dominated by social media, search engine algorithms, and ideological or political gatekeeping — greatly limits my potential reach. That’s expected when you actively dissent from the sociocultural norms, narratives, and resist sailing with the prevailing winds instead of going along to get along. I refuse to pander to the masses or engage in shallow virtue signaling to attract clients or customers. As I’ve written before, my purpose in this lifetime is to shine a light on the darkness that permeates our dualistic reality. This means calling out deception in all its forms. Naturally, such a “mission,” if you will, ensures that my work and offerings often stand in opposition to what is mainstream or publicly acceptable.
And so, I walk on, pursuing my version of freedom and all it entails. I struggle and sometimes suffer, but knowing that this path is my choice, I find ways to make it work. I look forward to smoother days ahead, but I’m no fool, and I waste no energy on hope; I fully realize that not only must I contend with my own shortcomings, but this strange, inverted clown world will continue to throw both anticipated and unexpected challenges at me and my fellow sojourners.
Solvitur ambulando