Beautiful BC

"Beautiful British Columbia." Yup, that's what it says on our license plates. This past week, I realized how beautiful BC is. For the first time, I drove to Nanaimo and then to Comox on Vancouver Island. After a pretty pleasant ferry ride and a short trip to my hotel (with a nicely upgraded room), I looked outside my window to see a beautiful ocean, speckled with boats and a narrow passage between mountains. The next day I had a native Nanaimo resident show me around the city. I was amazed at how vibrant the city was. But what struck me the most was not the number of Starbucks or McDonalds, it was that no matter what way you looked, you saw mountains. I was in awe.


The drive to Comox started off pretty boring. But one quick turn off the Inland highway, and we were driving along the coast - the scenic route. Or as the signs said, Oceanside route. It was beautiful. After the morning of touring around, we stopped for lunch at this little cottage called the Filberg Teahouse. To my surprise, right outside the front door was a deer! How often do you eat lunch with a deer?

It was at that point when I realized how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful province. You don't really discover it until you're forced to go. If it wasn't for this business trip, I don't think I would have ever realized the beauty of Vancouver Island.

My goal for the summer of 06 - Discover beautiful British Columbia!

... And then we die.

A couple nights back, I was in some deep conversation with a close friend of mine. The topic of choice was, of course, the meaning of life. My friend and I are basically at the same point in our life. Both she and I have taken the same steps to get to where we are today. We were born, went to elementary school, then high school. We went to university to get a degree and now we're working to make a living. A pretty standard life to say the least.

Today, we question why we do what we do. Being in my early 20's I still have a good 35-40 years of work left in me. Personally, I don't see myself working for that many years. But the other night I realized, what's the point?

What's the point of life? We're born, we do a whole bunch of stuff to fill in time, and then we die. Does it really matter what we do inbetween? Society places upon us a variety of rights and wrongs. Sure we try to live our lives with good morals and ethics. But does it really matter how we live our life? We constantly strive to be the best we can be. I guess that makes living worthwhile for some. For others, maybe not. But if we think about it in the sense that we're born, and then in the end, we die, does it really matter how we fill the inbetween?