Tuesday, October 16, 2007

This Precious Life

It is just after 10 a.m. of a peaceful Tuesday morning and a day off work for me.

According to the Weather Channel it was supposed to be blasting rain today, but there is a mottled blue sky above framing the golden brown leaves on the nearby trees and taking me back to the fall of 1996 when I sat at my old DOS based computer texting my journal, marveling that the color of the text seemed to mirror the color of the leaves.

In those days though, I would never have known what the word “texting” signified. I was still “typing”.

I was an early member of the Vancouver Community Network then and able to surf the net, but all in text format…there were no graphics of any kind. It was still amazing though that I could search my local library and even reserve books over the computer, or research an item or topic. I can’t recall how I did it exactly though, before the omnipotent “Google”!

Before I owned a computer, I carried a notebook with me everywhere, and I was always “journaling”, scribbling dreams, poems, prayers and memories. I began to write so swiftly in a kind of stream of consciousness that my writing became largely illegible to anyone but me and when I review those journals today, even I have trouble deciphering some of the writing.

My apartment is filled with boxes containing roughly 40 years of notebooks full of these writings, plus one or two book manuscripts that have not reached publication and perhaps never will, now that I have discovered blogging.

A few years back, I couldn’t imagine a time when I was not yearning to see my records on the music charts or a newly published book on the best seller list, but these days, for whatever reasons, time has slowed down and I have no such aspirations.

Time has slowed down and at the same time paradoxically speeded up! I realize that it is swiftly slipping past me and that for the sake of my children and for posterity I would do well to leave some markers of my journey for those who follow. And my journey has been nothing short of extraordinary, a near impossible tracking of space and time from my childhood in Winnipeg to my current one-step-at-a-time daily ritual.

I can do now what I could never have done in my twenties and that is to hold down a steady job. I was too troubled, confused and brimming with desires and emotions I couldn't understand and which I was unable to share with anyone. I had yet to learn to heal and to learn the lessons that healing brings.

In learning these lessons, some of them extremely difficult, I had a chance to try my wings, discovered I could fly and flew managing to live some of the life I dreamed of as a child.

So for now, a steady job and the maintenance of a daily structure is my recipe for wholeness.

But who knows what tomorrow holds in store?

All that I know is that I am thankful for every day and night spent enjoying this precious life.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

A Fine Fall Sunday Morning

It is just coming up to 10 a.m. of a fine fall Sunday morning.

It is cloudy and overcast, but there is no rain pelting down, at least not yet. As usual, I am getting ready for work.

Getting ready for me (in part) means preparing coffee, making my bed, brushing teeth, then doing exercises and finally morning prayers before settling into the ritual of checking emails and doing a daily journal entry.

My daily journal is usually a log of events of the day previous, a recording of the nights dreams if any are memorable and sifting through any thoughts that may be playing on my conscious mind which I feel may need some kind of analysis.

I have often thought and said that this journal keeping is my therapy, and an invaluable tool and way of clearing the field for the coming day’s activities and challenges.

If something is troubling me or if I am concerned about something in my daily life, going over it in journal form often helps me to get to the root of the problem or concern.

This morning I don’t have anything other than the morning silence playing on my mind and so as I write, I also take a break to turn on my little aging Sony short wave radio (a gift from my friend Herb sitting on my kitchen table with its aerial aloft), tune in CBC Radio 2 and listen to a little music while I prepare my cereal.

I look out the window and take back my comment about no rain. It is truly pelting down now. But it is only a 20 minute walk to work and I have my umbrella.

The CBC host (Gregory Charles) makes the comment that he was born in 1968 but from now on is going to lie about his age and pretend he’s 22. 1968! My God, he’s a baby but that classic CBC radio style makes him sound so much older. And he has some fine taste in music! This morning's theme, suited to a Sunday morning , seems to be on the subject of faith and belief.

He tells a story that I find compelling which I have never heard. It is about the I Have A Dream speech by Martin Luther King. He said that while King was talking Mahalia Jackson was standing in the background and kept prompting him, “Tell them about the dream” (the announcer said you can hear her voice in the recording) and she kept repeating this until finally he seemed to hear her and launch into the famous I have a dream part of the speech. Talk about timing and the skills of a musician.

I was hoping that there might be some nice gentle music this morning and I am rewarded as he plays You Must Believe in Spring (and Love) sung by Tony Bennett and accompanied by the great Bill Evans on piano.

Bennett’s soft vocal approach combined with the rich colorful palate of the solo piano combine to create a lovely sense of nostalgia and peace in me, somehow perfectly in tune with the cloudy, rainy morning.

And just as though I had been to church and attended a wonderful service, I am feeling uplifted and ready for the day!

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

A Simple Act of Healing

This morning when I looked out my window, I thought I detected a break in the rain.

I got out of bed and went into my morning routine, which on Tuesdays usually includes laundry.

I also prepared a bowl of hot oatmeal with raisins, cinnamon and banana, a habit I recently re-adopted on the advice of my dental hygienist. She asked about my health as she always does and I had mentioned that my cholesterol levels were too high. She suggested oatmeal cereal.

"I don't like cooking in the mornings," I replied.

She admonished me with a gentle smile, and the words "Don't be lazy!"

At this time of the year especially, with the weather turning, it feels good to start off the day with something more substantial than coffee and juice. I use Quaker quick cooking oats and it only takes about 5 minutes to prepare.

With the fruit added, I don't need to add sugar. I just add about 1/3 cup of milk.

This is something I haven't done for years. Having hot cereal in the morning reminds me of my childhood (it was Quaker cereals then too) and preparing for school in the morning. It is a good memory and a good feeling. It is a simple act of healing.

After a shower and a change of laundry loads, I went out into the elements and up to Davie to get groceries. I was wrong about the break in the rain.

But it wasn't a heavy rain, it was one of those comfortable, familiar Vancouver drizzles that get you wet but not soaked and the temperature was also very liveable. I was wearing a t-shirt under a light jacket and a baseball cap and felt quite cozy.

The streets are now strewn with multicolored leaves of many varieties and as I walked up the hill looking at the wet, natural collage under my feet, I felt a lightness of spirit and sure of myself.