A Healing Gift

Yesterday was an unusual day in that I decided to head down to South Vancouver and do several things including shopping at Oakridge, saying hello to Nika who works there and visiting Karen’s new area.

I caught the bus to Oak and 41st which confused me at the start by taking a right off the bridge towards Kits (they now have a new route which bypasses busy Granville and Broadway). There was a new trainee driver on board and so the bus virtually crawled to its destination.

I had forgotten that Oakridge Mall was not on Oak Street and so when I got off, I wasn’t sure which way to head at first. I quickly got my bearings though and headed east.

Nika was not working that day and neither did I want to carry clothing in bags to South Van as I was already carrying my jacket. So after window shopping I left the mall empy-handed in a kind of daze and began making my way west before finally circling back through the mall and catching a bus on the north side of 41st heading south. I got off at 64th and began walking west through a residential area with no sidewalks.

The streets were deserted and it felt like the old days hiking in foreign territory and the walk soon became a hot slog. I kept thinking of Herb’s story of passing out in the street from fatigue and heat and hoped I would not repeat it.

I finally made it across 70th and walked past the Quaker Hall where I knew there would be a Sufi gathering & concert that evening which I had planned to attend for some time. But Karen’s new apartment was only a block from there so I tested my intuition to see if I could find it.

It was depressing to me to think she might be in a rundown neighborhood but I was pleasantly surprised by the peaceful ambience and big trees just off a major traffic artery out of the city. There were several older but respectable-looking apartment buildings and I decided she must be in one of these. And I was happy to discover that there were no old rooming houses in the area, laying to rest another nightmare about her possible situation.

I finally caught a B-Line bus home which was a quick trip but after getting off at Seymour and transferring to a Davie bus to get home, I was tired. I put aside my plans for the evening concert on the south side and opted instead to go grocery shopping and make dinner.

As planned I cooked and ate my dinner but was inspired to call Karen and ask if she would like to attend the concert with me. She eased my mind further by informing me that she was in one of the nicer buildings I had seen earlier in the day. She was busy but encouraged me to attend the concert on my own. So I called a taxi with only an hour to spare and was soon walking through the doors of the hall.

I was also walking back in time about 10 years when I used to regularly attend Sufi meetings there. When I had passed the hall earlier in day it looked deserted and there was no signage to advertise a concert that evening. But I was not surprised to see the chairs all set up, the sound system ready and many of the chairs already occupied.

I walked downstairs to use the washroom and was met by two women and my friend Amir who is with the Sufi Order in Vancouver. We hugged and then as I looked at the women in his company the penny dropped; these were the women of Ruby who I’d come to listen to. I immediately told them that I’d downloaded and heard their song “Listen O Drop” from a poem by Rumi.

When they began their concert they gave me the healing gift of dedicating this song to me, causing me to weep many and much needed tears.