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February 12th 2013
Published: February 12th 2013
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An incredible thing happened last night, I slept for twelve SOLID hours! "Mio primo bene riposato in Italia" My first good rest in Italy, and to be honest one of the best sleeps I have had in a very long time anywhere actually. When I awoke, my very first desire was to grab my laptop and start writing. Then the realization that I was incredibly hungry and should probably at least eat some breakfast before hand kicked in. Well that was 15 minutes ago and I am currently sitting at the kitchen table with a "delizioso espresso" and haven't yet bothered to make even toast. This renewed passion of mine for writing is a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you! haha. And when I opened up my blog to begin writing I was greeted by messages from loved ones, friends, and even a few strangers who in the last few days seem to be thirsting to hear from me as much as I wish to share with you all! I literally cannot express the euphoric feeling this has given me inside. Hard to believe I know, but that is one thing I will never quite be able to express in words.


I have always loved writing as I said before, and I knew it was something I was "good" at. But there are also things in life that I would say I am pretty good at. So I think maybe this is the reason that I never fully accepted my ability to write or to put things down in to words. In school, when I actually APPLIED myself (my family will all laugh out loud at this) I actually got pretty decent grades. Math for example, was something that I did very well at, but honestly I just never cared. I never wanted to apply myself to something that I really had no interest in. As you have already guessed maybe, I am a very stubborn person by nature (again, more laughter from friends & family). Even when it came to writing, I hated being told I had to do something a certain way. If I was given an assignment, and told the topic, expected length, etc. I barely gave it any effort. My inner "Brittany" was thinking well why would I give you anything exceptional when you are asking so little of me, fine I will just do the bare minimum of what is expected of me then and leave it there. In Grade 11, many of you might be surprised to find out I actually failed English class. I can't even tell you what the topic was for my essay, but all I remember is it being extremely boring and uncreative. When I received it back from my teacher with a big bright red 49% I was completely shocked and appauled. Up till then English class had always been my gaurantee of achievement and success. I really loved English and expanding my knowledge and vocabulary of my own mother tongue. But this particular teacher found me a little, lets say: over zealous.

What did I do about it might you ask? Well of course, I stormed in to the classroom with my essay, threw it on his desk and demanded to know why I had not received a higher mark. His response was, "there is no doubt you have written a good essay, but it did not follow the guidelines I laid out and therefore it was not acceptable". At this very moment my whole attitude of the education system and instilling knowledge to children vanished. How in the world was it possible that he could even admit it was well-written, but because it wasn't what "he had asked for" I was to be failed? Instead of walking away from this, I asked that he at least allow me to retake the final so I could pass the class. He seemed unimpressed with the idea but allowed me to do it. 51% was my final grade in English 11.

The following year I was lucky enough to have a different teacher for English. An incredible man even outside of the classroom, but here I had finally found someone who for the first time saw something in me. He was encouraging, supportive, and always at every moment told me to just "write what you feel". I don't even need to bother will all the details of what I learned from him, because they are just the footnotes to an entire wealth of knowledge. But the summarization of the story tells enough. At the end of the year we had our Provincial Final Examination (mandatory in most provinces in Canada) and for the first time, the essay topic was something I was very passionate about writing. It was a simple topic, which I heard many of my friends complain about. But for me, it left the door wide open to finally write exactly what I wanted to write. And the topic was: write about someone who has impacted your life. Simple. Well it took me about 30 seconds to decide, and I began to write about my mother. A woman who at that very moment in my life I wasn't always getting along with. For many immature reasons, and my own stubbornness, I had a very "17 year old" attitude towards her at that point. It was in that essay, I unleashed all the things I felt, and expressed all the teenage angst I had towards her. This may sound really stupid to some people, but I literally had tears streaming down my face, sitting in the middle of that classroom in Kalamalka Secondary writing my Provincial exam essay, about my mother. When I handed it in, I looked at my teacher and thanked him for an amazing year of teaching, and I turned around and walked out the door. Immediately regret hit me for what I had written, let me clarify first: it wasn't an "I hate Mom" Essay. It was just that I had been for the first time in my life, totally honest about my feelings & emotions on paper.. for other people to read! In fact it actually ended with words something like "my mother was literally, to me, the most brave and independent woman that I ever had the pleasure of knowing. And although I didn't always see eye to eye with her, this is why she had the biggest impact on my life."

Flash forward a few months, I was clearly biting my nails in anticipation of getting those marks back. I passed with an 87% I believe, which was something to be proud of, but some how I felt a little deflated to know I hadn't achieved higher. Then that day I passed by my English teacher's classroom and he spotted me, and called me in. I was curious because I had already gotten the results so what more did he have to tell me? Something pretty amazing actually.. although I had only gotten a cumulative 87%, my essay had actually received 97%. The top mark out of my graduating class. No more words needed here to express what that felt like, or meant to me.

I am not telling you all this because I want to sound arrogant or proud. In fact, when I sat down to write this morning I didn't even express to write this. But I have started to realize that this is exactly what writing should be to me, free-flow of thought and expressing exactly what needs to be said in the moment. I am telling you all this because in the last few days of writing, I have been expressing alot of outward emotion and honesty. And at first it gave me that same nervous sense which I had when I handed in that very final exam essay. But the response I have had from all of you (so damn supportive!) has made me feel like this is what really matters. All I have wanted all my life is to feel like what I am doing will make any sort of difference. As all of us do each day, I have been searching for that one thing that makes ME special, that makes me matter to this world. They call it "finding your passion", and I always laughed at that cheesy concept. But I am beginning to really realize just how true that is. You will never be fully happy in life unless you are doing something that you love. Something that makes you feel like you matter. It's a reason I think alot of people even find themselves in a bad relationship, or in a job they absolutely hate. We are so craving to be loved & accepted, to find something that makes us unique and our own, that we are willing to settle for the next best thing alot of the times. And to me there is nothing more sad.

When I was in Spain on El Camino, I could not believe the number of happy smiling faces I saw wherever I went. This was a country that had already fallen in to the severe economic crisis, there was unemployment, abandonded shops & houses everywhere I turned. But at 9 PM on a Friday night when you walked in to the central plaza and saw all the families joined together there sipping vino and just simply, being together, you never would have guessed. It just takes you back to the realization that sometimes, the simple things in life are the most sweet. When all else goes out the window, what are we left with? Our family, our close friends, and whatever true passions and desires we have. I don't come from a huge family, in fact the tiny family I had grew by a little in 1996 when my Dad remarried. A very strange thing has happened even in the last few days since I have been writing these "honest" blogs. I have actually in a very odd turn of events grown closer to my step-mom and step-sisters I feel. I know I was many years younger than them when we all lived together, and in my own stubborn "teenage" way as I grew up never fully allowed others in to my personal world. But I really truly feel like they are finally after 22 years getting to know who I really am. How COOL is that?! Just thinking about this right now, I am currently have a silly grin plastered on my face.

So as I said before, this "travelblog" seems to have taken on a whole new attitude. In a strange sense, it also took travelling and putting myself outside of my element and comfort zone to realize some of these things. I think when I did El Camino it was a start for me to mature and grow up. And I did write in my journal while I was there also. But I think the impending knowledge that the Camino was not permanent, only 2 months of this blissful mental-freedom, it in some way stiffled my mind's ability to fully accept and grasp my new found knowledge. I now believe I also was not ready to shake my depressed feelings and put those aside. The biggest difference however is that I was not sharing these thoughts with anyone. Now, as I said, when I woke up this morning I wanted nothing more than to get to this keyboard and begin a lyrical journey! I can't quite believe that this has happened to me, here in Italy. Because for the first several weeks I was really starting to question whether I had made the right choice in selling my car, packing up my entire life and taking off. But now that I am here, and these changes are taking place in my life, I realized this is exactly where I was meant to be at this very moment. If this rekindled love for the written word is the only thing I take from this experience (and believe me, its not!!!), then I would do it all over a thousand times. So maybe it is still fitting that I am writing these under a travel-themed blog haha. All I know now is I am going to grab hold of this amazing opportunity, and allow it to take me wherever life goes from here.

Phew, now if that isn't some serious thinking over a morning cup of coffee, I don't know what is. And yes, I am still starving and have not even attempted breakfast. So on that note, ciao for now mi amici! I have no doubt I will be back again tomorrow morning to write. At this rate, I may even blog again later today.. look out world: Pandora's box has been re-opened! hahaha

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12th February 2013

Oh, one final FOOTNOTE:
In case any of you were wondering, I took that Government-graded/approved 97% final mark straight to my Grade 11 English teacher, laid it on his desk, accompanied by a sweet smile. And simply walked out again. No "verbal" words needed. Looking back now, I realize it was a very "smart ass" move, but at the time it seemed such a perfectly fitting ending, I just had to. And yes, perhaps just a little bit of selfish satisfaction fuelled me to do it hahaha.

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