My Confession/Thank You Letter

A Story by Ken Muir

I have someone to thank, who probably doesn't want to be thanked and certainly doesn't understand why. And yet, feel compelled to thank them all the same.

This is probably a huge mistake. Confessions are not necessarily a very wise activity, as they implicate oneself and others in a plethora of different ways - and yet, I (and I expect others) feel the need to confess and express any novel ideas I view I have. Why? I can't say for sure. But because of the tricky nature of a confession, I've opted to remove as many implicating details as possible for the betterment of all parties involved. Hopefully this will limit the potential aftermath.

My confession is this: I'm very grateful to someone - someone who will (hopefully) remain anonymous to spare them the embarrassment they may have of being so publicly discussed.

When I was in high school, I was pretty much the creme de la creme of awesomeness (self-described). I remember being a confident, egotistical, and enthusiastic individual who always had something to say in the contexts of any social circle. I did and said what I pleased without remorse. I was very much myself, in a loud and in-your-face kind of way. Looking back on those years, I can say in hindsight that my greatest quality was my drive and passion for the interests I held most dear. For example, I loved music and performing music. And singing! I therefore spent a good amount of time with like-minded people and grew to be comfortable on a stage. I loved to lead, so I joined student government. I loved to write, so I campaigned for and eventually won the (debatably) prestigious valedictorian position. During all of this I was of course paddling and was passionate about paddling, though I always have and always will be, so it doesn't serve much purpose to talk about it here.

The key point is that I didn't just make goals: I actively pursued them, and made sure I took the right steps to claim them. That last part is, frankly, kind of important.

After grade school, something happened. And I'm not really sure what it was. I was thrown into the world of self-dependence, something which I had arguably been craving but remained wholly unprepared for. Basically, my drive to complete my goals, frivolous though they may have been at times, began to wane. I still set extraneous goals, but did nothing to meet them, such as wanting to perform at the ACT*, or wanting to enter an amateur point-to-point race, or going on a road trip to Alaska. Now, it would be easy to say that I didn't have the time or the money to do these things. But that would be false. How can we ever have time if we never make time? (All credit goes to the Frenchman from The Matrix series. Shut up, the second one was the best). If you truly want something, shouldn't you go out of your way to make sure that you get it?

Somehow I had lost that mindset. I know I had it before but couldn't remember what it felt like. Worse, I couldn't remember what I had lost. It was an incredibly empty feeling, like trying to fill up a sink with water when the drain had been pulled. Setting goals but getting nowhere.

There are a number of different reasons for why this might have happened. It could have been because I seperated with my long-time girlfriend of 6 years. It could have been because my entire generation of paddlers in BC left the sport all at once. It could have been because I didn''t have the face-time with all those friends that I used to. Maybe it was a combination of all those things. To be honest, the reasons don't really interest me very much.

I started to notice somethiing when meeting old friends from high school. They talked about how talented I was, how awesome the things I did were. Shortly afterwards they always exhibited a very obvious and profound sense of disappointment. They discovered that I wasn't the same person they had once known. They never said it aloud, but it was so behaviorally blatant to me. The worse part was that I had forgotten the highlights of my own life, so meeting these people meant facing the same realizations that they did. To sum it up, it sucked. It felt like I was not only letting myself down, but also letting down the people who had expected great things of me.

And finally, after all this tragedy, the most wonderful thing happened. I met someone who changed... everything. This person stood like a beacon at the end of a dark and cold tunnel, spurring on those who were starting to lose feeling in their toes. And it had nothing to do with what this person said, but more to do with what this person is. This person is passionate, driven, and is taking the right steps in order to achieve goals. This person doesn't know the meaning of the word 'extraneous' or 'frivolous'; to this person, if you're interested in something, you should pursue it with the greatest intensity possible. I couldn't believe the feeling, the sensation it caused in me, to be around this person. It was like a switch going off.

Furthermore, it's not even what this person is, but what this person has come to represent to me. I don't really know this person very well at all, and the qualities I've described here are probably subject to black-and-white thinking; nothing is ever quite as simple as it appears, so these qualities are likely more idyllic than what is real. That is to say, I may be garnering attributes where I have no right to do so, because I don't know this person well enough. Though I'm certainly hoping I'll have the opportunity to get to know this person better. This person has inspired me to light the candle anew, to be passionate about the things I love once more. I'm finding places to perform and sing and write music. I'm finding opportunities to write more (this definitely counts). I'm getting things done that I wouldn't have before. I'm looking for and implementing the steps I need to achieve my goals. I've finally remembered what I once forgot. And without rhyme, reason or intention, you have given me this gift. Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm finally back.

Sincerely,