This is going to be all about Dreams of Being a Kiwi. Look, I know that the book came out last year and too much time has passed and there are only 24 hours in a news cycle and no one has any attention spans and I can’t remember what happened last week. A friend of mine actually made it all the way through the book and said, “Hey, I like it even better than your first one. I really enjoyed it.” I was like: “Oh, you were one of the five that actually bought it and got to the end.”

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Right here at the top, I am going to state as explicitly as possible that the story to follow is one that has many layers, complications, and is complex. I unequivocally state for the record that I am not offering any definitive answers or attempting to be judgmental on any party involved. I’m simply going to explain what happened and tell you my reaction. The goal is to spark discussions about these tough situations and to deepen my own experience and knowledge and curiosity in order to better understand what actions can actually be taken.

Okay, I think that’s enough of a preamble. Let’s get on with the show.

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I went too far away.

I’m somewhere in Etobicoke, Lake Ontario on one side and several vast open fields on the other. Sitting in the shade at a picnic table, the water from my miniature bottle of water running out. Trying to write this, but the combination of the heat and hours of non-stop physical exertion have turned my mind a bit mushy.

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Maybe sitting in front of a computer did it, but a few weeks ago a knot formed in the centre of my back right between my shoulder blades.

I decided to book an appointment with a massage therapist. Not a relaxing kind of massage, but one that would get in under my bones.

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