This day on the calendar marks the first anniversary of my life in Toronto and the fifth anniversary of my life with Dani Press.
Five years I've had this sidecar of a beast, this other entity that strikes at my side and is one of my answers to passion.
One year I've been in this adrenaline-addled buzzard of a city that sharpens my sword and employs the basement gremlins of my ambition.
The engine of these circumstances seems to be my curiosity.
The curiosity to see what I'm made of has churned out my boldest decisions and forced my direction down darker alleys.
I was in Thailand alone seven or eight years ago.
I was drifting in a boat of a dozen or so foreigners when we had momentarily stalled out at a spot called Shark Point.
It was our last chance to swim while the sun was setting and though the water was painted in end of day colours, it lent the water all these shadows.
It was eery.
The tour guide asked if anyone wanted to dip in. Nobody was getting up, only observing. I was pulled, seeing that no one else was daring, so I stood up, fastened my goggles on my face and hurled myself overboard.
I'm not a fan of sharks and I'm not even a big fan of swimming, but if there is something to see, I want to see it.
And I especially want to see it if other people are afraid.
I swam out about 50 feet, a few people followed, but while they swam about, I gunned it back. I don't think I've ever swam so furiously in my entire life.
The boat had drifted a bit, the grey boulders I careened over seemed to grow bigger as I paddled and I was suddenly aware these were shark infested waters. I could be dinner.
I made it and I'm alive and the sharks were possibly tourist sharks, so babies with no teeth, but it magnifies this tendency, this switch somewhere in me.
God sabotaged me with an unwaveringly curious spirit.
It's what made me start Dani Press.
It's what made me move to Toronto.
I'm curious and I want to know.
What's out there, what's possible, what will happen, what will change my life.
So on this day, it's the only fitting thing I can truly salute to.
To remaining daringly curious so that, at the end of this thing, I'll know what my Saviour made me to be and made me for.