The frozen finger of Ottawa's touch has turned the murky waters of the Rideau Canal into a thick crust of bright white ice. The very place that once welcomed the puttering tour-boats full of photo-happy visitors and carried the calm canoeists along their current has been bombarded by beaver-tail huts and thousands of boisterous skaters.   

The barriers that once buffed the sound of faint splashes against the canal walls now amplifies the echoes of laughter and joy. As much as I thought I would never return to Ottawa, I am here, and I am thankful.

As I cloaked a brand new blue gi over my shoulders and wrapped that white cotton belt around my waist, I knew that something was different. The smell of hard work was damp on the walls and the smacking of fists and shins against thai pads echoed throughout the change-room.

I took a minute to soak it all in…

I wet my face in the sink and stared at myself in the mirror. I knotted my belt, took a deep breathe, and stepped onto the mat for the first time in a very long time. And this time around, I stepped onto the mat as a student and as a beginner.

Although I have competed as a professional mixed martial artist in the past, I felt that it was extremely important for me to start this portion of my journey as a beginner. Having said that, I have made a conscious decision to focus solely on Brazilian jiu jitsu for now. And, more specifically, I have chosen to practice this art in a gi, which is something that I have never really concentrated on before.

A few weeks ago I started training at OAMA, a black-belt run Renzo Gracie affiliate academy in Ottawa, Ontario. After showing my dedication to the craft, I was awarded my first stipe. Last week my friend and purple-belt instructor, Nick Castigilia, presented it to me at the end of class. 

Although this is a relatively minor accomplishment in the world of BJJ, the stripe on my belt represents so much more than a piece of tape on a piece of cloth to me. It represents a step in a new direction and my evolution as a person and as a student of life.

We learn as we go. And, although we may revisit a path that we have walked in the past, every step is a new and unique one. The same sun rises in the east and sets in the west every single day, and, even though the sun will continue to do so until its beautiful glow explodes into a fiery ocean across the endless night of space, every single sunrise and sunset represents a brand new start. Every single sunrise and sunset represents a brand new beginning and a brand new end. We all change, it is our nature. And, these winds of change are necessary for us to exist in an environment of experience and education. These winds of change are the subtle hands that push us forward along our individual paths and as a collective. There is always something to learn, some way to grow, some place to go, and so many different experiences to be had.

When I put that gi over my shoulders, a weight was lifted off them. I am back where I started and I am starting again, but, this journey is nothing like my last.

Swimming with the sharks.

drowning with the sharks.

I threw myself into the water waiting for the tide to take me away…
I threw myself into the water waiting for the tide to take me home…
I shattered myself against the rocks
I splintered my soul against the docks
I threw myself into the water.

The current traps the current and makes it past.
The past wraps the present and guides the mast
The mast fills the future and the future fills us all
The ship sets course with no remorse
I threw myself into the water.

There is no need to sail away from here. 

Although I have written about the person Evan was and how much he meant to me countless times, there are a few things I have yet to touch on. Primarily, the influence Evan had on his friends (or anyone that he came in contact with for that matter) and the lasting impression his passion and personality has had on their lives (and how this impact has helped keep Evan's memory and philosophy an ever lasting and growing influence to an extraordinary amount of people).

One morning Evan and I stopped to get a coffee before doing an outdoor workout at a local soccer field. Although I had worked at a coffee shop throughout high school and university I had never really drank coffee (especially mochas) before that day. After copying Evan's order I wasted no time drinking it… In an attempt to control an extreme case of the jitters I found myself reading what I thought was a list of ingredients on the cup… to my surprise, it was a short story.

The story was about a customer who had paid for their coffee along with the order of the person behind them. When the following customer had pulled up to the cash in the drive thru they decided to pay for the person behind them as well… this went on for 17 orders. The last words of the story were 'Pay it forward'.   

Evan, after having noticed my fixation with the cup asked me what I was doing. I gave him the gist of the story and he humphed and said 'cool'. We didn't discuss or have a conversation about it, but, looking back on my time with Evan and his impact on my life, I can't help but realize that he was the stranger who paid for my coffee (in a literal sense at the time and a metaphorical sense now)

Most of the people who were close with Evan have become an extended family of mine. These people are personal trainers, teachers, veterans, film makers, etc… in short, these people have put themselves in a position that allows them to make the lives of the people that they come in contact with better. They have taken the power of one and made it a reality. Essentially, they have all done their part to 'pay it forward'.

Having said that, I don't feel like I have really done my friend justice. In order to take the gift that Evan gave me (and continues to give) I have decided to return to school to become a Social Service Worker. And, although I am sure that I will cross paths with many great minds and teachers alike, I know I will never meet anyone like Evan. I love and miss my friend more than words can describe.

Evan's message lives on in us all. It is up to us to believe in the power of one and pay it forward. We can change the world.

I have headed east along the 401 countless times. I have ventured down the 416 and waited in traffic along Ottawa's main vein, the 417, more times than I care to remember…

The trip to Ottawa is a familiar one.

I graduated from Carleton University five years ago, certain that my sentence had been served. I left the city four years ago, certain that I would never return.

I was wrong.

My path is an evolving road that has been shaped by my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. A path that has traveled through time and pushed through periods of great strength and weakness alike. A path aware of its past but unsure of its future, a path motivated by an inner drive despite the weight of outside forces. A path that has ascended to great heights and fallen great lengths with the dedication of a kamikaze warrior. A path that has had no discernible sense of flow or direction but that remains the only true avenue to and from my self.

And although I have never really questioned who I am as a person, I have often struggled with what it is that I am going to do with that person on a professional level. I went to school and became disillusioned, I competed professionally and lost it all. I have no regrets. My path was guided by my path and I was filled with the warmth that one feels knowing that the possibilities that we are granted in this lifetime are endless. However, I failed to acknowledge the fact that I was closing doors on future opportunities by not making a decision in terms of my professional development and direction, not keeping them open.

In August, I will be moving back to Ottawa. In September, I will be going back to school. In August, I will be forced to greet the eyes of my shadows past and sweep the ashes of bridges burnt aside. In September, I will build anew.