disinterested.blog

I started picking a theme for each year after a friend told me about their habit of doing it. But rather than deciding on the theme on January 1, I pick a direction for what it might be, and then let the theme emerge.

Four to six months into the year, the theme is usually fairly obvious.

In 2025, my theme was The Tide. How did I come up with that?

We all met in Alberta, and then moved to Squamish, and then to Cumberland in 2025. Always closer to the ocean. At the same time I was working on my own consistency. I’d repeat that idea when we were in big work blocks, and at the worst when I was working 3 separate jobs (passion projects that I wanted to turn into real jobs – and they did.)

I was inspired by one co-worker of mine. He shows up like the tide. Reliably. Every day. Always there.

The was the first, and main pillar, for The Tide was consistency and reliability.

When I was younger, I avoided the bad times. In my late 20s, and especially my 30s (late, I know), I started to embrace the ups and downs. There are good days and bad days, and really, it became about being in the moment.

I struggled with letting the good times end, to the point where I’d start thinking about the ending of a good moment while I was still in it. **Good time destroyed**

But taking both the good and the bad made life richer. It also pushed me to pursue my dreams day after day. The day matters. What you do matters. How present you are matters.

Funny enough, this co-worker of mine was one of the best examples of this I’d ever seen. He was incredible at being present, whether the day was good or bad.

The second pillar of The Tide is presence (whether good or bad.) I think the good or bad thing is important to add here.

The third pillar could be defined as cross discipline – less to do with the daily routines and mindset – everything to do with the ocean.

We moved to Cumberland, and have spent more time on the ocean this year then ever in our lives. We’re closer to the actual tide, and “The Tide” theme is complete with this imagery. It was a big move, and it was a lot of work.

My best friend / co-worker was born near the ocean, on the opposite side of the country, in P.E.I. He always loved it there. When he was at the ocean, he took it all in. He loved the breeze, the sand, and he was incredibly social with the crowds.

I was truly inspired by my best friend. He came in quietly, like The Tide, always reliable, always present.

He didn’t speak, of course. But he understood everything.

I only met him four years ago, but he was there through big changes, through difficult ventures that didn’t work out. He was there consistently, with me, every day. Some days all day, some days just part of it. His presence helped me balance life, start the day, work one more hour, take breaks, get outside, breathe, relax. He did this funny thing where he would lift a paw to ask for a pet if you hadn’t payed attention to him in a while.

And then this past year he started to slow down. He would come on bike rides, and those had to end. Then there were good days and bad days. He told us how he felt, and we listened. He knew exactly what he wanted in each moment, and he made it clear.

He loved and wanted us – present – whether the day was good or bad.

And then we’d travel, or we’d move, and he would come, and he absolutely loved coming along. When we packed our bags to go anywhere, he would lay near the pile of bags, as if to say “Ready when you are.” He came with us to the ocean.

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Yesterday, he seemed a little off, but he still showed up for work. He went on a couple of walks, and then we came home for dinner. Reliable as always.

Later, I took him for a drive. I had to pick him up to get him into the truck, but he came along. He loved the truck. He loved coming with me. We even stopped for fries at a burger place. We usually don’t tell mom about those trips.

When we got home, he looked sad. He told us.

By 11:45, he was in so much pain he couldn’t get comfortable or lie down.

We were there to make him comfortable. He found some relief. We stayed right there with him.

We were there at 2:45 a.m. while he slept peacefully.

We were there at 3:00 a.m. when he left.

He wanted us there; he was ready to go.

The weight of you being gone is something we’ll always feel, but I wouldn’t trade a second of the time we had.

We love you, Kohen.