A methodical practice, first learned with greasy hands on steel frames, now applied to clean abstractions in cloud architecture. This is a story about two kinds of tools, and the single mind that uses them.
My journey into professional bicycle mechanics began at Bike Pirates, a non-profit co-op in Toronto’s west end, where I learned the fundamentals. From there, I transitioned to Urbane Cyclist, a worker co-operative that profoundly shaped my approach to technical work. Urbane was more than just a shop; it was a hub for Toronto’s cycling scene, a community held together by shared values and, often, shared roti meals from Gandhi’s during staff meetings and parties.
Our relationship with technology: a tree that grows from our own needs but may overshadow our original selves.
We often imagine technology as a ladder—each rung lifting us higher, granting clearer vision and greater mastery over our world. But what if it is something else entirely? What if our grand narrative of human progress shares an unsettling kinship with the story of an addict chasing a high? This metaphor—technology as a dependency, civilization as an addiction—offers a provocative lens to examine our trajectory. From the first controlled fire to the looming specter of artificial general intelligence, our journey may be less one of sober ascent and more a compulsive search for the next, more powerful alteration of our own condition.
On the value of tools that reward investment with understanding, not just output.
Looking back, the most valuable skills I possess share a common origin: they began with a choice to engage with a system deeply, rather than merely consume its output. My journey with bodywork started not with seeking a quick fix, but with studying shiatsu—learning the meridians and the principles of pressure to understand my own health. My relationship with transportation transformed when I learned bicycle mechanics, not just to save money, but to know every component that carried me through the city. This pattern of choosing the path of understanding over convenience found its ultimate expression in my choice, years ago, to build my digital life on Linux and open source. That choice, often met with bemusement, has proven to be less about software preference and more about cultivating a fundamental literacy.
