Yesterday, I made an early morning decision to try again. I tried once before but failed.
My mission: get school clothes and supplies for my son Kadir who is now going into grade 10 this September thanks to a detour through summer school to pass Science & Socials, which he managed to do.
We have already agreed to go together in a couple of weeks, but thinking of the back-to-school bargains we might miss if wait until the month end, I made my way in the humid morning to the Pacific Mall where within walking distance there are a multiple choice of shops.
By the time I had made it through Sears, I gave up. There is no way of choosing suitable clothes for a 14 year-old that will work from the viewpoint of a 14-year-old. In about a half hour I was dead tired and burned out from my attempt to power shop and so made my way down to Coal Harbour.
The first thing I noticed was that it was warmer outside than it was in the mall, but I needed the exercise and still not sure of my game plan, I walked down Howe to the Pan Pacific Hotel and then segued into the food court as I hadn’t eaten that morning.
The sight of all that fast food and people eating with gusto is enough to make anyone lose their better judgment and this time, despite health issues I opted for a serving of Taco Time Mexi-Fries Deluxe. This is a sloppy mix of fried reconstituted potatoes topped with melted cheese and sour cream. The only saving grace was a small portion of diced fresh tomatoes over the top of everything.
It is the sort of dish that guarantees an instant rise in cholesterol levels but when I looked at the picture of the A&W Hamburger that kept whispering my name I felt my choice wasn’t too bad. This would be less filling but give me the strength to continue my walk, and the motivation to walk off the calories with some gusto.
By the time I reached the Harbour Air flotillas I realized that I was going to attempt a full loop of Stanley Park in the opposite direction that I normally walk it. Mind you, I don’t usually begin my walk after already walking for an hour.
So, keeping the water on my close right, I inched my way along the seawall finding out for the first time that if I circled the Westin Bayshore (keeping it on my left) I did not have to cut away from the water to get to the park. And I also discovered for the first time that this walk is part of the Trans Canada Trail.
These days all sorts of high level toxic construction is going on around Canada Place with the new Convention Centre and so I was also spurred on by the realization that once I rounded the lighthouse at Brockton Point the ocean air would kick in, refreshing my lungs and spirit.
By the time I got to the Yacht Harbor and was approaching Lumberman’s Arch I could feel my body flagging. This was where I had to begin to focus, watching my posture and just putting one foot ahead of the other. They seemed to be coming down on the pavement rather clumsily and hard.
So I picked up the pace, passing a few young woman who were stretched out in a line taking up most of the walkway.
Clipping past all that young energy and beauty gave me a further boost and I started to get a second wind.
Before I knew it I had passed the bowsprit of the Empress of Japan, the littlest mermaid with those brazen eyes looking out from under her facemask and was entering 17th century China.
Along the seawall on both sides of the bridge a dozen or so middle-aged Asian Canadian fisherman in floppy hats were sitting on 5 gallon plastic buckets and casting their lines into the surf.
A few of them appeared to have small catches but I curbed my inclination to ask how the fish were biting. After all they were blissfully enjoying the peaceful silence, the sound of the waves, a temporary release from the big city energy…and did I really want to know?
On the Western side of the bridge a light drizzle began but fizzled out in the bright cloudy haze above Siwash Rock where in 2003 I threw flowers from mom’s funeral wreath into the surf. Every time I pass this way I think about the poet Pauline Johnson (The Song My Paddle Sings) and remind myself that one day I must find her memorial in the park.
My mom wrote poetry too and Pauline Johnson was a contemporary she admired and in my mind the two of them are connected. If I do find that marker, I know mom will be visiting her with me.
In fact, maybe it is still early enough today to go and search for it…
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2 comments:
The truth is that you need to say yes to suffering before you can
transcend it. [Eckhart Tolle A New Earth]
I just received this thought for the day so thought I would pass the message along.
Your description of your walk was read just before I received this
message and it seemed timely.
I am glad to hear I am not alone in beginning to have to push myself on what used to be an easy walk. This morning my walk took me down Whyte Avenue in Edmonton and into a Wee Book Inn where I found a book originally written in 1914--my copy is from 1929. The title "The Laws of Self-Development" caught my eye.
The original title is perhaps more telling of the author's intent. Mental and Physical Ease and Supremacy by Franklin Leavitt MD. The preface contains this line: "Humanity is waking to the consciousness that it is endued with power. The innate forces of the Ego are greater-far greater- than the ordinary conception of them. But energy has to be set into action along right lines, and it is astonishing to see how this is sometimes done"
He then goes on to describe the placebo effect and how his
experimentations showed that it is our own minds that control whether we respond to a cure or not. Perhaps this is the first self-help book that was written--but I doubt it. Just one in a long line.
I wonder at the curious fact that most of us are not ready to hear this kind of thing until we hit perhaps the age of 30 and then we find the writers of our time, who will tell us things in words that we can finally hear.
As for a fourteen year old buying clothing--arghhhh! good luck with
that one. Luckily for me, my 18 year old has found another female to advise him on such things.
E Pauline Johnson, Mom and Franklin Leavitt were all contemporaries. Along with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Fred Astaire and others whom I now think of as geniuses. To think there was a time when I thought
they were old fashioned or hopelessly naive....We are so lucky to have had their influences on our development.
Poets I keep running into include Yeats, TS Eliot, Robert Frost, Robert Graves and Rumi.
Thanks for the comment Marilyn...and by the way I did locate the Pauline Johnson memorial this day, said a short prayer, ran my hands over the beatiful rock and wash my forehead in its fountain. I felt mom with me.
baba
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