It is a cold and cloudy morning but with no precipitation and no real fog to speak of…not like earlier this week anyway.
I received my first email from Ky who has now landed safely in London, and is recuperating from jet lag. He comments that it is outrageously expensive and no where can he find internet access.
But as usual his tone is upbeat.
I have been traveling with him in spirit the past two days, recalling my first trip to swinging London in the late 60’s.
I landed at Gatwick airport and took the train to Victoria Station. I met a young lass from California on the train and we became fast friends, sharing a bed and breakfast room no bigger than a cracker box for a few days, until she fell for a handsome Brit bartender who lived in the area and moved in with him.
On my first foray out into the streets after a night in town I walked into a pub and there stood Wilfred Bramble holding court with a group of elderly cronies, hoisting his pint aloft and smiling the same unforgettable and mischievous smile that he smiled as “the clean old man”, Paul’s dad in the Beatles movie A Hard Days’ Night.
When he lifted his pint in my direction and toasted me too, I knew I had arrived.
I can't help but wonder what Ky is seeing and feeling today!
I wish him a quick success in finding "suitable lodgings"!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Breaking Open
It’s foggy and cool this morning but no rain, and with the rest of the country in a severe deep-freeze I am really counting my blessings.
Yesterday I saw the author Elizabeth Lesser speaking on the Oprah show and I was quite impressed by the title of her book Broken Open and the way she described it’s meaning to the audience.
She said many adults live their lives tightly wound around their centre with anxiety and fear without ever breaking open like a rose which breaks into bloom.
Her thesis is that hard and difficult times can be tools which will enable us to face the darkness and fear in us and break open if only we allow them to.
It is a beautiful poetic image.
See a brief bio of her by clicking on the link below.
http://www.beliefnet.com/Holistic-Living/2004/08/Being-Broken-Open.aspx
Yesterday I saw the author Elizabeth Lesser speaking on the Oprah show and I was quite impressed by the title of her book Broken Open and the way she described it’s meaning to the audience.
She said many adults live their lives tightly wound around their centre with anxiety and fear without ever breaking open like a rose which breaks into bloom.
Her thesis is that hard and difficult times can be tools which will enable us to face the darkness and fear in us and break open if only we allow them to.
It is a beautiful poetic image.
See a brief bio of her by clicking on the link below.
http://www.beliefnet.com/Holistic-Living/2004/08/Being-Broken-Open.aspx
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
A Farewell Dinner
It’s just coming up to noon on Wednesday, yet when I woke late this morning for a moment I thought I would have to rush to prepare for work. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I had one more day off.
Ky and I met for dinner at Stephos Greek restaurant on Davie last night as planned. He arrived slightly before I did and so by the time I went in they were just seating him and so we got right down to dinner. They were out of retsina and so we shared a half liter of red wine and ordered lamb for Ky and lamb souvlaki (small) for me.
The dinners went down well as it was already after 8:30 and we had a fun and lively talk over the table. When it was over, although my son offered to walk me home I opted to walk him to the Burrard Sky Train Station and so we had a continued nice long walk and talk.
He told me about his send off party attended by over 50 friends and also by his two sisters. I think it was one of his more successful Vancouver evenings.
His plan is still on to leave on the 19th via British Airways Vancouver to Heathrow and he is leaving in company with a friend. He tells me he is planning to work both as a barista and a barman to make ends meet, and is now thinking more long term in re: using his working holiday visa to do some traveling in Europe, which is what I’d hoped to hear.
He thinks they are going to stay in a hostel to start off, until they find a more permanent place to live. I pray it works out for him. I have never seen him happier or more confident.
When we parted in the station I tried to quote Polonius’ advice to his son, but couldn’t remember the words so he quoted them for me.
I kissed him on the lips and hugged him and told him how proud I am of him, my Nizami, a name given to him before he was born by my Sufi teacher in India. As he left, he placed his right hand over his heart, a familiar Sufi salute.
Then he went his way and I mine. It is strange how quickly things can change. I may not see him again for the better part of a year or maybe more and I will miss him greatly.
But knowing he is living out his adventure, makes me smile and I will continue to smile every time I think of him until we meet again.
Ky and I met for dinner at Stephos Greek restaurant on Davie last night as planned. He arrived slightly before I did and so by the time I went in they were just seating him and so we got right down to dinner. They were out of retsina and so we shared a half liter of red wine and ordered lamb for Ky and lamb souvlaki (small) for me.
The dinners went down well as it was already after 8:30 and we had a fun and lively talk over the table. When it was over, although my son offered to walk me home I opted to walk him to the Burrard Sky Train Station and so we had a continued nice long walk and talk.
He told me about his send off party attended by over 50 friends and also by his two sisters. I think it was one of his more successful Vancouver evenings.
His plan is still on to leave on the 19th via British Airways Vancouver to Heathrow and he is leaving in company with a friend. He tells me he is planning to work both as a barista and a barman to make ends meet, and is now thinking more long term in re: using his working holiday visa to do some traveling in Europe, which is what I’d hoped to hear.
He thinks they are going to stay in a hostel to start off, until they find a more permanent place to live. I pray it works out for him. I have never seen him happier or more confident.
When we parted in the station I tried to quote Polonius’ advice to his son, but couldn’t remember the words so he quoted them for me.
I kissed him on the lips and hugged him and told him how proud I am of him, my Nizami, a name given to him before he was born by my Sufi teacher in India. As he left, he placed his right hand over his heart, a familiar Sufi salute.
Then he went his way and I mine. It is strange how quickly things can change. I may not see him again for the better part of a year or maybe more and I will miss him greatly.
But knowing he is living out his adventure, makes me smile and I will continue to smile every time I think of him until we meet again.
Friday, January 02, 2009
Best of luck in 2009!
It is Friday morning and I am preparing to set off for work.
My Christmas and New Years holiday weeks were mostly uneventful, but well placed in that they kept me inside through the heaviest of the snowy cold weather.
I finally got to talk to most family members and many friends via phone at least, although I didn’t necessarily talk to them on the same day or on Christmas or New Year’s Day exactly.
The important thing for me is checking with as many folks as possible to let them know I am okay and that I am thinking about them specifically.
I didn’t call everyone on my list as I am a big believer in listening to intuition. There seems to be a right time to call for me when the spirit moves me, although I have been wrong about that in the past too.
It occurs to me as I write this that there are probably a few people I called who could’ve cared less that they heard from me. And there are undoubtedly a few more who, if they read this, will wonder why I didn’t call them.
I guess from my point of view it is merely subjective. The little pot bubbles away on the stove, boiling merrily until the heat is turned off.
As this is my first blog of the season, I want to wish all my friends and family and blog readers a Happy and Prosperous New Year. No doubt we have some challenges ahead of us as the economy flounders but with a little luck and a lot of love we will hopefully rise to the challenges facing us.
Wait a minute. I am starting to sound like Gordon Campbell! Or like that guy in the commercial: Wait a minute. You’re claim’s been denied!
Anyway, I have already risen to one of the major challenges of the winter season and that is staying on my feet in the icy streets the past 2 weeks.
Who would’a thunk it in Vancouver, so much snow so early?
May we all stay on our feet this year!
My Christmas and New Years holiday weeks were mostly uneventful, but well placed in that they kept me inside through the heaviest of the snowy cold weather.
I finally got to talk to most family members and many friends via phone at least, although I didn’t necessarily talk to them on the same day or on Christmas or New Year’s Day exactly.
The important thing for me is checking with as many folks as possible to let them know I am okay and that I am thinking about them specifically.
I didn’t call everyone on my list as I am a big believer in listening to intuition. There seems to be a right time to call for me when the spirit moves me, although I have been wrong about that in the past too.
It occurs to me as I write this that there are probably a few people I called who could’ve cared less that they heard from me. And there are undoubtedly a few more who, if they read this, will wonder why I didn’t call them.
I guess from my point of view it is merely subjective. The little pot bubbles away on the stove, boiling merrily until the heat is turned off.
As this is my first blog of the season, I want to wish all my friends and family and blog readers a Happy and Prosperous New Year. No doubt we have some challenges ahead of us as the economy flounders but with a little luck and a lot of love we will hopefully rise to the challenges facing us.
Wait a minute. I am starting to sound like Gordon Campbell! Or like that guy in the commercial: Wait a minute. You’re claim’s been denied!
Anyway, I have already risen to one of the major challenges of the winter season and that is staying on my feet in the icy streets the past 2 weeks.
Who would’a thunk it in Vancouver, so much snow so early?
May we all stay on our feet this year!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Christmas Eve-ing
All night long and all day long the snow has continued to fall. This is probably the most Christmassy Christmas Eve I have ever seen in all my years in Vancouver.
Never mind that the snow is knee deep in drifts around my apartment. All the better for Santa’s sleigh tonight, although I am sure that the falling snow will muffle the sounds of the midnight sleigh bells and the tapping of hooves on the rooftops.
I don’t have to work today which is a good thing, as I don’t have snow boots and getting transportation to work other than by foot could pose a major problem.
The snow is falling so thickly that when I put my head out the window to have a look it comes back covered in wet white powder.
Now if only I could have avoided the family holiday blues and if only the Canucks had not been skunked by the Sharks, it would be a picture perfect holiday. On second thought, isn’t family drama a huge chunk of the traditional holiday season? It is for me, anyway!
Not all the family is suffering. My daughter Chaya is in bliss by a fireplace today reveling in holiday spirit and my son Ky purchased his plane tickets for the UK. He leaves on January 19th, putting his dream into reality.
He showed up at my place yesterday with a gift of a steam iron (which he says he never uses and has to get rid of for his trip) and a book of poems & drawings by Leonard Cohen called The Book of Longing published in 2006.
We shared a holiday eggnog and talked about his upcoming journey. He is literally chomping at the bit, as I was at his age.
I wonder if I ever told him that it was Cohen’s The Spice Box of Earth and Eliot’s The Wasteland that really fueled my start into writing in California in the late 60’s?
Never mind. All things considered it is shaping up to be a Wonderful Christmas.
Never mind that the snow is knee deep in drifts around my apartment. All the better for Santa’s sleigh tonight, although I am sure that the falling snow will muffle the sounds of the midnight sleigh bells and the tapping of hooves on the rooftops.
I don’t have to work today which is a good thing, as I don’t have snow boots and getting transportation to work other than by foot could pose a major problem.
The snow is falling so thickly that when I put my head out the window to have a look it comes back covered in wet white powder.
Now if only I could have avoided the family holiday blues and if only the Canucks had not been skunked by the Sharks, it would be a picture perfect holiday. On second thought, isn’t family drama a huge chunk of the traditional holiday season? It is for me, anyway!
Not all the family is suffering. My daughter Chaya is in bliss by a fireplace today reveling in holiday spirit and my son Ky purchased his plane tickets for the UK. He leaves on January 19th, putting his dream into reality.
He showed up at my place yesterday with a gift of a steam iron (which he says he never uses and has to get rid of for his trip) and a book of poems & drawings by Leonard Cohen called The Book of Longing published in 2006.
We shared a holiday eggnog and talked about his upcoming journey. He is literally chomping at the bit, as I was at his age.
I wonder if I ever told him that it was Cohen’s The Spice Box of Earth and Eliot’s The Wasteland that really fueled my start into writing in California in the late 60’s?
Never mind. All things considered it is shaping up to be a Wonderful Christmas.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Missing Songs
It is around 7:30 pm on Wednesday as I slowly gear up for my weekly work shift.
Ky visited this week and informed me that my songs from Alchemy and Border Crossings were now inaccessible on line. He said the pages had disappeared.
I checked and although I still found the pages, I found that the .ram files (Real Audio) were not playing properly. Maybe it has been too long since I updated my player.
I spent a good portion of today recreating mp3 versions of my songs Destiny (from the album Alchemy) and Master Five Willows (from Border Crossings).
You can now access them at my Eagalic Music website at http://www.eagalicmusic.com/music and I should have the lyrics posted in the next few days.
It has been an interesting weekend...and today I took my seawall walk under the cloudy skies. I was expecting sun but that didn't come until I had arrived home in the late afternoon.
I have been processing the news that my blood pressure count is now in the danger zone once again despite following my medication dosage every day.
Last night while meditating before sleep I decided not to worry and let it interfere with my peace of mind.
Without that, (as my sister Marilyn had reminded me) I am in no postion to carry on day to day or to help family.
After all, what is more important than that?
Ky visited this week and informed me that my songs from Alchemy and Border Crossings were now inaccessible on line. He said the pages had disappeared.
I checked and although I still found the pages, I found that the .ram files (Real Audio) were not playing properly. Maybe it has been too long since I updated my player.
I spent a good portion of today recreating mp3 versions of my songs Destiny (from the album Alchemy) and Master Five Willows (from Border Crossings).
You can now access them at my Eagalic Music website at http://www.eagalicmusic.com/music and I should have the lyrics posted in the next few days.
It has been an interesting weekend...and today I took my seawall walk under the cloudy skies. I was expecting sun but that didn't come until I had arrived home in the late afternoon.
I have been processing the news that my blood pressure count is now in the danger zone once again despite following my medication dosage every day.
Last night while meditating before sleep I decided not to worry and let it interfere with my peace of mind.
Without that, (as my sister Marilyn had reminded me) I am in no postion to carry on day to day or to help family.
After all, what is more important than that?
Monday, December 01, 2008
Temple Bells
When I visited India in 1986 with my family, I took my guitar with me. I imagined that India would be fertile ground for writing more music.
But as I have written in my book Eagalic Music, I think my creative powers were temporarily blocked in India as I couldn't summon any music. In retrospect, I think all of my resources were used up simply taking in and trying to process the vastness/immensity that is India.
I did a lot of writing in India though, keeping daily journals of many of our experiences. At a bookseller's in Connaught Circle downtown Delhi I purchased 6 enormous hard cover journals, each one weighing a couple of pounds at least.
I filled these up in the next year or so and started the process while still in India. But when we arrived in Greece and set up house on the island of Symi in April 1986 on the return leg of our journey to the East, I began to compose songs again and wrote the lyrics in the first of these huge books.
I composed most of the songs on my album Alchemy in Symi but I didn't compose Temple Bells until we arrived back home and settled into our house on Dovedale Road in Shawnigan Lake.
There I set up a makeshift home studio using a 4 track recorder (a Tascam Porta One) and that is where I recorded Temple Bells.
A couple of months ago I uploaded the first of my unreleased songs The Crofton Mill in mp3 format to my website Eagalic Music and on November 25 I attempted to upload a second song, Temple Bells.
After setting up the post with the lyrics I discovered that the upload function was not working and I couldn't decipher why as an error bar appeared in place of the upload progress bar which covered a background error message with the word "dismiss".
I presented my difficulty to Danny my website designer and friend and on a computer at work, the error message was clear...the file was too big. Danny solved this by increasing the server file size upload limit and although it took him a few days to get to it, the file is now uploaded and if you are interested you can hear one of my songs definitely inspired by India.
Go to: http://www.eagalicmusic.com/ and check out the November 25th post where you will find the lyrics and an mp3 version of this song.
But as I have written in my book Eagalic Music, I think my creative powers were temporarily blocked in India as I couldn't summon any music. In retrospect, I think all of my resources were used up simply taking in and trying to process the vastness/immensity that is India.
I did a lot of writing in India though, keeping daily journals of many of our experiences. At a bookseller's in Connaught Circle downtown Delhi I purchased 6 enormous hard cover journals, each one weighing a couple of pounds at least.
I filled these up in the next year or so and started the process while still in India. But when we arrived in Greece and set up house on the island of Symi in April 1986 on the return leg of our journey to the East, I began to compose songs again and wrote the lyrics in the first of these huge books.
I composed most of the songs on my album Alchemy in Symi but I didn't compose Temple Bells until we arrived back home and settled into our house on Dovedale Road in Shawnigan Lake.
There I set up a makeshift home studio using a 4 track recorder (a Tascam Porta One) and that is where I recorded Temple Bells.
A couple of months ago I uploaded the first of my unreleased songs The Crofton Mill in mp3 format to my website Eagalic Music and on November 25 I attempted to upload a second song, Temple Bells.
After setting up the post with the lyrics I discovered that the upload function was not working and I couldn't decipher why as an error bar appeared in place of the upload progress bar which covered a background error message with the word "dismiss".
I presented my difficulty to Danny my website designer and friend and on a computer at work, the error message was clear...the file was too big. Danny solved this by increasing the server file size upload limit and although it took him a few days to get to it, the file is now uploaded and if you are interested you can hear one of my songs definitely inspired by India.
Go to: http://www.eagalicmusic.com/ and check out the November 25th post where you will find the lyrics and an mp3 version of this song.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
...I knew the angels had intervened.
It's 3:30 pm on Wednesday and I have returned from a seawall walk that almost didn't happen today.
I planned to do a walk today but I also planned for the bright blue sky and sunshine that was forecast, and when I went out this afternoon (after nearly 2 hours of struggling unsuccessfully to upload a new mp3 file to my web site) I was shocked to see a metal grey sky, a watery glimpse of sun barely showing through and to feel the frigid (by Vancouver standards) November chill caressing my hatless head.
But after making it up to London Drugs and doing a blood pressure test I decided a brisk walk was definitely in order since the blood pressure is up nearly 20 points from last week.
So I wrapped a scarf around my neck, put on my wool watch cap and trekked out to 2nd Beach to watch the seagulls frollicking among the fading amber and many assorted colorless scraps of leaves still clinging to the skeletal arms of trees.
I also made a mental note to pocket the extra pair of wool gloves that are hanging unused in my closet for a future cold walk ( a task I have only just now completed).
Karen pulled yet another rabbit out of a hat yesterday, informing me that she has found a home in Kits for herself and Kadir which they will be occupying the first week in December or thereabouts. Weeks of stress around this issue instantly began evaporating in my muscles and bones and I could feel the encroaching weightlessness that always comes in the wake of welcome news.
The odds were against her as she had no job but it appears that both issues are being resolved at the same time as this will be another property management gig for her. When she told me she was busy ordering appliances, I knew the angels had intervened. This is the kind of thing she was born to do. It is what she excelled in, while we were in the Co-op.
I am processing this today and gave thanks during my walk for the seemingly endless string of dead ends and redemptions that have made up my family life for the past 8 years.
In today's economy finding an affordable home is no mean feat even with a regular paycheck.
I planned to do a walk today but I also planned for the bright blue sky and sunshine that was forecast, and when I went out this afternoon (after nearly 2 hours of struggling unsuccessfully to upload a new mp3 file to my web site) I was shocked to see a metal grey sky, a watery glimpse of sun barely showing through and to feel the frigid (by Vancouver standards) November chill caressing my hatless head.
But after making it up to London Drugs and doing a blood pressure test I decided a brisk walk was definitely in order since the blood pressure is up nearly 20 points from last week.
So I wrapped a scarf around my neck, put on my wool watch cap and trekked out to 2nd Beach to watch the seagulls frollicking among the fading amber and many assorted colorless scraps of leaves still clinging to the skeletal arms of trees.
I also made a mental note to pocket the extra pair of wool gloves that are hanging unused in my closet for a future cold walk ( a task I have only just now completed).
Karen pulled yet another rabbit out of a hat yesterday, informing me that she has found a home in Kits for herself and Kadir which they will be occupying the first week in December or thereabouts. Weeks of stress around this issue instantly began evaporating in my muscles and bones and I could feel the encroaching weightlessness that always comes in the wake of welcome news.
The odds were against her as she had no job but it appears that both issues are being resolved at the same time as this will be another property management gig for her. When she told me she was busy ordering appliances, I knew the angels had intervened. This is the kind of thing she was born to do. It is what she excelled in, while we were in the Co-op.
I am processing this today and gave thanks during my walk for the seemingly endless string of dead ends and redemptions that have made up my family life for the past 8 years.
In today's economy finding an affordable home is no mean feat even with a regular paycheck.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
A rainy day meditation...
It is Tuesday morning and also Remembrance Day and I watched the ceremony from Victory Square on television as I entered my journal. It was double broadcast from both Vancouver and Victoria.
It was raining and the weather chilly. Many in the crowd of spectators held umbrellas as a solitary piper from the Seaforth (Karen’s dad’s regiment) Highlanders blew a salute and the Vancouver Youth Bach Choir sang a setting of In Flanders Fields.
A grade 12 student Catherine Chan read a simple but moving poem she wrote called Poppies and the wreath laying began at both the Vancouver and Victoria cenotaphs.
It is now just coming up to 3 p.m. and I have folded and stowed the last of 3 loads of laundry. These include the vestiges of towels and sheets from Karen’s stay. It is a really dreary day, but sort of peacefully quiet. The laundry room was empty and so I had no competition to complete my chores.
It is strange how empty a place can feel after someone close to you has left. But I confess that I was glad when she did as this place is far too small for 2 people, especially when they are leading such different lifestyles.
Earlier I walked up bare headed in the misty rainfall to Super Value and bought some nugget potatoes and Brussels sprouts for my dinner. I also stopped at Kin's market and bought some onions and bananas. It is a good day to avoid the longer walk to Safeway.
I may prepare a mid afternoon meal as I have eaten nothing today.
I am reminded today of the words of a Zen master I read long ago while living in my little shack on the mountainside;
...when hungry eat, when tired sleep
lie down on your mat, reclining quite flat
that's what's meant by dharma.
It was raining and the weather chilly. Many in the crowd of spectators held umbrellas as a solitary piper from the Seaforth (Karen’s dad’s regiment) Highlanders blew a salute and the Vancouver Youth Bach Choir sang a setting of In Flanders Fields.
A grade 12 student Catherine Chan read a simple but moving poem she wrote called Poppies and the wreath laying began at both the Vancouver and Victoria cenotaphs.
It is now just coming up to 3 p.m. and I have folded and stowed the last of 3 loads of laundry. These include the vestiges of towels and sheets from Karen’s stay. It is a really dreary day, but sort of peacefully quiet. The laundry room was empty and so I had no competition to complete my chores.
It is strange how empty a place can feel after someone close to you has left. But I confess that I was glad when she did as this place is far too small for 2 people, especially when they are leading such different lifestyles.
Earlier I walked up bare headed in the misty rainfall to Super Value and bought some nugget potatoes and Brussels sprouts for my dinner. I also stopped at Kin's market and bought some onions and bananas. It is a good day to avoid the longer walk to Safeway.
I may prepare a mid afternoon meal as I have eaten nothing today.
I am reminded today of the words of a Zen master I read long ago while living in my little shack on the mountainside;
...when hungry eat, when tired sleep
lie down on your mat, reclining quite flat
that's what's meant by dharma.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Let the Future Begin!
I invited my son Ky over for pizza after his work shift yesterday and just when he was about to arrive, Karen came home too. So the 3 of us enjoyed the pizza together.
I wanted to celebrate his recent news. He found an apartment on Commercial Drive with just a couple of days to spare before being convicted to couch surfing at his friends' places. It is an affordable rent too, a crucial thing as he is planning on going to the UK in the New Year.
He was over 2 days ago and showed me his passport which had been returned from the British Consulate in Ottawa with a flashy12 month "working holiday" visa pasted inside (what a great concept, he can stay for 2 years but will only be allowed to work for one so that technically he could travel Europe and return periodically to replenish his funds.)
The other great news is that his boss has given him a contact to someone high up in the coffee industry in London, a supplier. This may help him secure employment more quickly.
When I went for my seawall walk yesterday (the weeks' forecast rains still miraculously holding off as they are again today) I was feeling pretty happy knowing how things seem to be working out so well for him.
Karen and I later watched the announcement later that Barak Obama had won the vote and become the 44th US President and we listened to all the speeches, some of which were incredibly moving. Jesse Jackson was in tears. Because of this I missed the hockey game but saw later that the Canucks shut out the Predators 4 – zip!
This morning there was evidence of footsteps on the scaffolding outside my window, and the clanking of metal pipes began. Within a couple of hours, the scaffolding was taken down.
Halleluiah, it’s the end of another era for me! This one seems to have begun with the installation of new windows in my apartment and the announcement by Basti my Kurdish friend and the window installer, "Baba, now you have new windows and next you will have to find a new woman."
Prophetic words although the woman he suggested I would find was only new to my apartment and I had a the great fun of opening my window the day after he said this and calling to him. He was on the scaffolding as usual and I said, "Basti, come over here, I want to show you something. Look into my kitchen." He did so.
"A new woman," I announced and his jaw gaped.
My ex-wife of 20 years and the mother of my children Karen had temporarily moved in with me as described in my last blog. She is still here nearly a month later but will hopefully soon find her own place.
So it is close quarters in my one room bachelor apartment but we are making do and so far have only bumped heads a few times.
This morning as they removed the scaffolding I looked for signs of my friend Basti but he was nowhere to be seen.
I wanted to tell him I would miss his singing outside my window but that I wouldn't miss the hammering and other noises!
Ah well, one must let go of the past to let the future begin!
I wanted to celebrate his recent news. He found an apartment on Commercial Drive with just a couple of days to spare before being convicted to couch surfing at his friends' places. It is an affordable rent too, a crucial thing as he is planning on going to the UK in the New Year.
He was over 2 days ago and showed me his passport which had been returned from the British Consulate in Ottawa with a flashy12 month "working holiday" visa pasted inside (what a great concept, he can stay for 2 years but will only be allowed to work for one so that technically he could travel Europe and return periodically to replenish his funds.)
The other great news is that his boss has given him a contact to someone high up in the coffee industry in London, a supplier. This may help him secure employment more quickly.
When I went for my seawall walk yesterday (the weeks' forecast rains still miraculously holding off as they are again today) I was feeling pretty happy knowing how things seem to be working out so well for him.
Karen and I later watched the announcement later that Barak Obama had won the vote and become the 44th US President and we listened to all the speeches, some of which were incredibly moving. Jesse Jackson was in tears. Because of this I missed the hockey game but saw later that the Canucks shut out the Predators 4 – zip!
This morning there was evidence of footsteps on the scaffolding outside my window, and the clanking of metal pipes began. Within a couple of hours, the scaffolding was taken down.
Halleluiah, it’s the end of another era for me! This one seems to have begun with the installation of new windows in my apartment and the announcement by Basti my Kurdish friend and the window installer, "Baba, now you have new windows and next you will have to find a new woman."
Prophetic words although the woman he suggested I would find was only new to my apartment and I had a the great fun of opening my window the day after he said this and calling to him. He was on the scaffolding as usual and I said, "Basti, come over here, I want to show you something. Look into my kitchen." He did so.
"A new woman," I announced and his jaw gaped.
My ex-wife of 20 years and the mother of my children Karen had temporarily moved in with me as described in my last blog. She is still here nearly a month later but will hopefully soon find her own place.
So it is close quarters in my one room bachelor apartment but we are making do and so far have only bumped heads a few times.
This morning as they removed the scaffolding I looked for signs of my friend Basti but he was nowhere to be seen.
I wanted to tell him I would miss his singing outside my window but that I wouldn't miss the hammering and other noises!
Ah well, one must let go of the past to let the future begin!
Thursday, October 23, 2008
One Day at a Time
Yesterday after I updated my computer security downloads I went for a walk along the seawall. I wasn’t sure where I was headed but it was a sunny and colorful fall afternoon.
I decided to complete a cycle I have been avoiding and return to the Pauline Johnson memorial at 3rd Beach. It was on the day I visited it nearly 3 months ago that I suffered vertigo that sent me to hospital for a week and wiped out my balance.
I finally seem to be recovering and yesterday walked without a cane as I have been doing the past week.
I found that the going was a bit slow but I negotiated my way to Siwash Rock, my first long seawall walk since the accident.
There was a young woman sitting there along the seawall, her head bowed and I thought maybe she was praying but as I passed her, I saw she was writing in a notebook.
I said a short prayer in memory of my mom and then returned to the 3rd Beach concession stand to use the washroom.
I strolled for most of the walk as I didn’t have the energy to power walk. I found that I am still feeling a fair amount of vertigo, but it is not throwing me completely off balance as it was a few weeks back. However, I have to focus to keep from wobbling.
When I got home, Karen was there. She has been staying with me for 2 weeks now after being evicted from her Kits apartment by an unscrupulous landlord. Our son Kadir has gone to stay with his sister Nika, pending Karen finding them a new place to live.
She is also looking for work and so it has been a change of schedule for me which I have had to adjust to. I am usually awake now at 7 or 7:30 which is her morning schedule. This makes for a rather long work day.
But when I came to the decision to invite Karen to stay here temporarily, I also made the decision to deal with the change in my daily routine as I knew I would have to.
Eight years is a long time to be apart, and it has taken a lot of adjustment to deal with the presence of another person in my tiny bachelor apartment.
When Karen came to live with me nearly 30 years ago she gave me a card inscribed with lines on the strategy of climbing a difficult mountain. The lines ended with the words...you can do it by taking it one step at a time.
Little did I realize what lay ahead for us.
God willing we will still overcome the obstacles one day at a time.
I decided to complete a cycle I have been avoiding and return to the Pauline Johnson memorial at 3rd Beach. It was on the day I visited it nearly 3 months ago that I suffered vertigo that sent me to hospital for a week and wiped out my balance.
I finally seem to be recovering and yesterday walked without a cane as I have been doing the past week.
I found that the going was a bit slow but I negotiated my way to Siwash Rock, my first long seawall walk since the accident.
There was a young woman sitting there along the seawall, her head bowed and I thought maybe she was praying but as I passed her, I saw she was writing in a notebook.
I said a short prayer in memory of my mom and then returned to the 3rd Beach concession stand to use the washroom.
I strolled for most of the walk as I didn’t have the energy to power walk. I found that I am still feeling a fair amount of vertigo, but it is not throwing me completely off balance as it was a few weeks back. However, I have to focus to keep from wobbling.
When I got home, Karen was there. She has been staying with me for 2 weeks now after being evicted from her Kits apartment by an unscrupulous landlord. Our son Kadir has gone to stay with his sister Nika, pending Karen finding them a new place to live.
She is also looking for work and so it has been a change of schedule for me which I have had to adjust to. I am usually awake now at 7 or 7:30 which is her morning schedule. This makes for a rather long work day.
But when I came to the decision to invite Karen to stay here temporarily, I also made the decision to deal with the change in my daily routine as I knew I would have to.
Eight years is a long time to be apart, and it has taken a lot of adjustment to deal with the presence of another person in my tiny bachelor apartment.
When Karen came to live with me nearly 30 years ago she gave me a card inscribed with lines on the strategy of climbing a difficult mountain. The lines ended with the words...you can do it by taking it one step at a time.
Little did I realize what lay ahead for us.
God willing we will still overcome the obstacles one day at a time.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
The Rest of the Chorus
It is Tuesday morning my day off, and the knock at my window didn’t come until nearly 9 a.m. as the workers were doing other jobs.
When Basti, my new Kurdish friend and window installer did knock, it was only to retrieve the extension cord he left on the floor of my apartment when he finished installing my windows yesterday. He did a great job by the look of things.
I think he was very happy with me because while installing the first window on Friday he spotted my flutes and noticed that among them was a Persian ney, which was given to me as a gift by one of the Mevlevi dervishes in the days when I played for their sema.
On Monday morning before starting work he mentioned that he would like to try it out, and asked if I would be willing to sell it.
Of course I already knew the answer, and I was pretty sure my decision was the right one. I handed him the ney, an instrument I had struggled with for months just trying to find a single note. He put it to his lips and immediately blew an intricate musical phrase, something that he had obviously done many times before.
While counting the finger holes, as though to verify what he had decided was the origin and type of the ney, he told me he wasn't able to find a good ney in Vancouver. I told him, "You don't have to search any more. This ney is my gift to you."
His face lit up like a young boy's and he began another dancing riff of wavering notes. "This is a really nice gift", he effused.
"Well, don't just sit there playing the ney all day", I admonished, "finish fixing my window". I had the old man tone of voice down pat.
"No problem Baba", he exclaimed and went straight to his tasks.
"And don't forget to lock up when you leave", I threw in for good measure as I left the apartment for the office.
We were both wearing huge grins.
When I came home last night, both windows were fully installed, caulked and the mess largely cleared away. He even remembered to turn my lights off this time.
When Basti, my new Kurdish friend and window installer did knock, it was only to retrieve the extension cord he left on the floor of my apartment when he finished installing my windows yesterday. He did a great job by the look of things.
I think he was very happy with me because while installing the first window on Friday he spotted my flutes and noticed that among them was a Persian ney, which was given to me as a gift by one of the Mevlevi dervishes in the days when I played for their sema.
On Monday morning before starting work he mentioned that he would like to try it out, and asked if I would be willing to sell it.
Of course I already knew the answer, and I was pretty sure my decision was the right one. I handed him the ney, an instrument I had struggled with for months just trying to find a single note. He put it to his lips and immediately blew an intricate musical phrase, something that he had obviously done many times before.
While counting the finger holes, as though to verify what he had decided was the origin and type of the ney, he told me he wasn't able to find a good ney in Vancouver. I told him, "You don't have to search any more. This ney is my gift to you."
His face lit up like a young boy's and he began another dancing riff of wavering notes. "This is a really nice gift", he effused.
"Well, don't just sit there playing the ney all day", I admonished, "finish fixing my window". I had the old man tone of voice down pat.
"No problem Baba", he exclaimed and went straight to his tasks.
"And don't forget to lock up when you leave", I threw in for good measure as I left the apartment for the office.
We were both wearing huge grins.
When I came home last night, both windows were fully installed, caulked and the mess largely cleared away. He even remembered to turn my lights off this time.
Friday, October 03, 2008
A Chorus of One
It is a cloudy Friday morning and right on cue Caiaphas the chief high priest climbed up the scaffolding and knocked on my window.
He was a bearded man of possibly Iranian origin maybe in his late 20’s just about the age of the Caiaphas in the Norman Jewison film, with a similar build and look. At first I thought I might ignore them as I was not yet out of bed, but he knocked again and I realized that the time for my old cracked window had finally arrived.
We conversed briefly and he didn’t seem to mind that I was standing in my undershorts. He asked if he could come in through the window and told me he would be using the electrical outlet inside.
He came in briefly and exited my apartment through the apartment door.
When he appeared back at my window on the scaffolding I explained that I was going to be saying my prayers and doing my exercises but to ignore me.
He replied in a Middle Eastern accent…”Cool, I do the same.”
I would not have been too surprised if echoing my Jesus Christ Superstar comment in yesterday’s blog, he had added, “…Mohammad is Cool!”
I proceeded through my prayers and exercises although the heavy mallet blows as he was knocking the old window frame out of position were a bit jarring. I am used to morning peace and quiet.
In between hammer blows he began singing in a very melodic voice and whistling. His presence was very harmonious once I was used to him being there. I can’t say that I recognized the tunes, but the spirit was obvious and totally recognizable.
I then prepared coffee and checked email, in full view of the window with this kindly stranger looking in and hammering away with a modicum of decorum I might add. It was as though he was holding back some force out of respect for the old man inside the apartment.
I prepared my morning cereal and when I sat back down at my keyboard we started to talk again. He told me he was Kurdish from Northern Iraq…and that he was the oldest of 6 children. He talked about how his brothers and sisters now lived in many different countries and when I asked if they communicated by letter, he smiled and said, “We talk to each other all the time on web cam!” Ah yes, it is a different world than the one I knew at his age.
As I ate my breakfast he proceeded to slowly dismantle the window. He told me that it was probably 50 years old as he extracted the original screws one by one. “They built in wood in those days”, he commented. They are trying to take out the old windows but keep the frame intact to hold the new ones.
The old windows were swing-out windows, and the new ones will have sliding panels so that they can be opened without having to secure them in a strong wind. It looks like the new ones will also have screens that can be used in summer.
He stepped back through the window into my apartment explaining that he now had to work from inside and very respectfully exited through my apartment door again.
So my intuition about the workmen was in the ballpark but so far it's a chorus of one.
He was a bearded man of possibly Iranian origin maybe in his late 20’s just about the age of the Caiaphas in the Norman Jewison film, with a similar build and look. At first I thought I might ignore them as I was not yet out of bed, but he knocked again and I realized that the time for my old cracked window had finally arrived.
We conversed briefly and he didn’t seem to mind that I was standing in my undershorts. He asked if he could come in through the window and told me he would be using the electrical outlet inside.
He came in briefly and exited my apartment through the apartment door.
When he appeared back at my window on the scaffolding I explained that I was going to be saying my prayers and doing my exercises but to ignore me.
He replied in a Middle Eastern accent…”Cool, I do the same.”
I would not have been too surprised if echoing my Jesus Christ Superstar comment in yesterday’s blog, he had added, “…Mohammad is Cool!”
I proceeded through my prayers and exercises although the heavy mallet blows as he was knocking the old window frame out of position were a bit jarring. I am used to morning peace and quiet.
In between hammer blows he began singing in a very melodic voice and whistling. His presence was very harmonious once I was used to him being there. I can’t say that I recognized the tunes, but the spirit was obvious and totally recognizable.
I then prepared coffee and checked email, in full view of the window with this kindly stranger looking in and hammering away with a modicum of decorum I might add. It was as though he was holding back some force out of respect for the old man inside the apartment.
I prepared my morning cereal and when I sat back down at my keyboard we started to talk again. He told me he was Kurdish from Northern Iraq…and that he was the oldest of 6 children. He talked about how his brothers and sisters now lived in many different countries and when I asked if they communicated by letter, he smiled and said, “We talk to each other all the time on web cam!” Ah yes, it is a different world than the one I knew at his age.
As I ate my breakfast he proceeded to slowly dismantle the window. He told me that it was probably 50 years old as he extracted the original screws one by one. “They built in wood in those days”, he commented. They are trying to take out the old windows but keep the frame intact to hold the new ones.
The old windows were swing-out windows, and the new ones will have sliding panels so that they can be opened without having to secure them in a strong wind. It looks like the new ones will also have screens that can be used in summer.
He stepped back through the window into my apartment explaining that he now had to work from inside and very respectfully exited through my apartment door again.
So my intuition about the workmen was in the ballpark but so far it's a chorus of one.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
A Chorus of Workmen
This morning the hammering and clatter of tools and the sounds of workmen’s voices encroaches on my window once again.
They are re-doing the building envelope and the last 2 months they have been on the opposite side of my building and now for those of us on the western side, it is our turn.
Soon there will be scaffolding erected covering the entire west wall of the building and it will be draped in that porous green fabric that is now so familiar on many older buildings. This shroud will bring 24 hour twilight to my windows.
And soon I will pause before drawing my curtains, preparing for an unfamiliar face to be peering through the glass at me. I already do that since my windows face a neighboring apartment but seeing a person in another window will not be quite as startling as staring into the face of someone hunkered down on a plank two feet away.
Ah well, the good news is that in a couple of months it will all be over and when the really wet and cold weather arrives I will be safe and dry and warm. And the upside of living in a managed building is that my life is not structured around fending off rodents, insects and mould or keeping warm by turning on the oven, as I did one winter on Vancouver Island.
It looks like my intuition was accurate this morning. For the past few days the scaffolding has been retreating and advancing, a few windows at a time. What they put up during the day was taken down at night.
But today it is a full frontal assault. The scaffolding has now been erected from back to front of the building and they won’t be undoing that at the end of the shift.
I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see the cast of high priests in black capes and headgear from the 1960’s musical Jesus Christ Superstar climbing the rungs of the scaffolds singing “One thing I’ll say for him…Jesus is Cool”.
I just hope they sing and hammer in tune!
They are re-doing the building envelope and the last 2 months they have been on the opposite side of my building and now for those of us on the western side, it is our turn.
Soon there will be scaffolding erected covering the entire west wall of the building and it will be draped in that porous green fabric that is now so familiar on many older buildings. This shroud will bring 24 hour twilight to my windows.
And soon I will pause before drawing my curtains, preparing for an unfamiliar face to be peering through the glass at me. I already do that since my windows face a neighboring apartment but seeing a person in another window will not be quite as startling as staring into the face of someone hunkered down on a plank two feet away.
Ah well, the good news is that in a couple of months it will all be over and when the really wet and cold weather arrives I will be safe and dry and warm. And the upside of living in a managed building is that my life is not structured around fending off rodents, insects and mould or keeping warm by turning on the oven, as I did one winter on Vancouver Island.
It looks like my intuition was accurate this morning. For the past few days the scaffolding has been retreating and advancing, a few windows at a time. What they put up during the day was taken down at night.
But today it is a full frontal assault. The scaffolding has now been erected from back to front of the building and they won’t be undoing that at the end of the shift.
I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see the cast of high priests in black capes and headgear from the 1960’s musical Jesus Christ Superstar climbing the rungs of the scaffolds singing “One thing I’ll say for him…Jesus is Cool”.
I just hope they sing and hammer in tune!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Letting Go
It is another in a series of cloudy, cool September mornings. It may have rained but not heavily.
My understanding is that this is the last day of summer and that the first day of fall will be tomorrow, Monday 22nd.
I have now negotiated 3 days of work after my illness and all is well. Yesterday’s shift dragged a fair bit, and I was counting the minutes at the end but it was one of those slow days and of course the end eventually came, as it always does despite my impatience.
I noticed on the way home last night that I had more than usual vertigo. I seemed to be stumbling quite a bit, partially because it was dark and I couldn’t gauge the uneven surfaces of the sidewalk, but also I think because I was rushing to get home. It's like being slightly drunk.
I am trying to stay centered and balanced to the best of my ability. I am also trying not to panic or despair at my seemingly decreasing physical capacities. We all get old…it is a part of life.
There has been no news the past few days from family members, and I am assuming all is stable…God willing.
I get fragments of understanding about my inability to affect the outcomes in the lives of my close ones. All I can do is stay focused, pray and help out where I know I can or where I am asked to help.
At this time of the year my mind goes back to the mid 1990’s and our first fall in the Juniper Co-op in Kits. I am sitting at my little DOS based computer with amber text on the screen, noting how the colors of the fall leaves outside the window are reflected in the color of the text and feeling a certain sense of security that for this winter at least our family is safe and protected.
We spent close to six years there if my memory serves and it was only the last one that was truly challenging and painful as I knew my time was up and I would have to leave the company of my beloved family. Hopefully the pain of that year has been duly processed but my heart still aches when I think about it.
The theme of leaving seems to be a constant one in my life and for some reason the leaving has rarely been initiated by me, but always forced upon me by circumstance. If there is a life lesson I have had to learn repeatedly it is the one of letting go.
I am now in my 7th year in my little West End bachelor apartment and I believe it is the longest I have ever lived anywhere. Sometimes when I come home from a busy day I kiss the walls, giving thanks that I have this safe haven in a city where so many are sleeping on the sidewalks. But my recent stay in the hospital reminded me that nothing is written in stone, and that any moment our imagined independence can be taken from us.
These days I am realizing more and more that there is only One Source of security and strength, and it is greater than anything I could possibly create.
I am learning to trust in this.
My understanding is that this is the last day of summer and that the first day of fall will be tomorrow, Monday 22nd.
I have now negotiated 3 days of work after my illness and all is well. Yesterday’s shift dragged a fair bit, and I was counting the minutes at the end but it was one of those slow days and of course the end eventually came, as it always does despite my impatience.
I noticed on the way home last night that I had more than usual vertigo. I seemed to be stumbling quite a bit, partially because it was dark and I couldn’t gauge the uneven surfaces of the sidewalk, but also I think because I was rushing to get home. It's like being slightly drunk.
I am trying to stay centered and balanced to the best of my ability. I am also trying not to panic or despair at my seemingly decreasing physical capacities. We all get old…it is a part of life.
There has been no news the past few days from family members, and I am assuming all is stable…God willing.
I get fragments of understanding about my inability to affect the outcomes in the lives of my close ones. All I can do is stay focused, pray and help out where I know I can or where I am asked to help.
At this time of the year my mind goes back to the mid 1990’s and our first fall in the Juniper Co-op in Kits. I am sitting at my little DOS based computer with amber text on the screen, noting how the colors of the fall leaves outside the window are reflected in the color of the text and feeling a certain sense of security that for this winter at least our family is safe and protected.
We spent close to six years there if my memory serves and it was only the last one that was truly challenging and painful as I knew my time was up and I would have to leave the company of my beloved family. Hopefully the pain of that year has been duly processed but my heart still aches when I think about it.
The theme of leaving seems to be a constant one in my life and for some reason the leaving has rarely been initiated by me, but always forced upon me by circumstance. If there is a life lesson I have had to learn repeatedly it is the one of letting go.
I am now in my 7th year in my little West End bachelor apartment and I believe it is the longest I have ever lived anywhere. Sometimes when I come home from a busy day I kiss the walls, giving thanks that I have this safe haven in a city where so many are sleeping on the sidewalks. But my recent stay in the hospital reminded me that nothing is written in stone, and that any moment our imagined independence can be taken from us.
These days I am realizing more and more that there is only One Source of security and strength, and it is greater than anything I could possibly create.
I am learning to trust in this.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
...so get with it old boy!
It's a rainy, cool September morning and I am heading back to work this morning for my 3rd work day since being off ill for a month.
It feels like the onset of fall, but the Equinox is not for a couple of days.
It's interesting and lucky for me that bountiful West Coast summer lingered on until the day before I returned to work, since I did not have a great time off for most of the month for reasons already blogged.
But the last week, each day was brilliantly sunny, and I was able to get down to the seawall almost every evening to watch the vivid sunsets, a reminder of the blessings in my life.
The return to work has not been stressful as I imagined it might be. I still have use my cane to get around the office, but my balance is really much better than it has been. And the youngsters (smile) in the office, far from making fun of me have been bastions of support.
I received so much love on my return to work, that it felt more like a family reunion than work and it was very empowering to feel I had actually been missed.
The only times during these days that I have actually felt really shaky have been on my evening walks home, once I am tired and the dizziness begins to set in.
I have kept up my blood pressure meds this time, although the blood pressure is once again up slightly due to the inevitable stress at work that is always present, even when you try to give your best.
My family doctor said it best: What job isn't stressful?
Or as the Buddhists say: Life is suffering.
I have to remind myself : Stress is part of the fabric of life, so get with it old boy!
It feels like the onset of fall, but the Equinox is not for a couple of days.
It's interesting and lucky for me that bountiful West Coast summer lingered on until the day before I returned to work, since I did not have a great time off for most of the month for reasons already blogged.
But the last week, each day was brilliantly sunny, and I was able to get down to the seawall almost every evening to watch the vivid sunsets, a reminder of the blessings in my life.
The return to work has not been stressful as I imagined it might be. I still have use my cane to get around the office, but my balance is really much better than it has been. And the youngsters (smile) in the office, far from making fun of me have been bastions of support.
I received so much love on my return to work, that it felt more like a family reunion than work and it was very empowering to feel I had actually been missed.
The only times during these days that I have actually felt really shaky have been on my evening walks home, once I am tired and the dizziness begins to set in.
I have kept up my blood pressure meds this time, although the blood pressure is once again up slightly due to the inevitable stress at work that is always present, even when you try to give your best.
My family doctor said it best: What job isn't stressful?
Or as the Buddhists say: Life is suffering.
I have to remind myself : Stress is part of the fabric of life, so get with it old boy!
Saturday, September 06, 2008
An Almost Indescribable Evening
It is a somewhat cloudy and hazy Saturday morning, proving the weather forecasters wrong again. They predicted hot and clear.
Last evening however was pristine and beautiful along the seawall and I stayed to enjoy the sunset. It was one of those evenings you don’t want to miss, echoing some of the beautiful sunsets I witnessed last year at this time.
I took my usual evening walk along Harwood to Burrard and then over to Hornby where I cut down to the seawall. I took my time, making my way back under the Burrard Street Bridge to Sunset Beach and then on to the Inukshuk at English Bay.
There was a group of about 12 Asian students enjoying the spectacle and enjoying themselves enjoying it, taking numerous digital photos and posing and making faces for the camera. Their good energy was infectious while at the same time remaining unobtrusive.
Since all the benches were being used, I stood by the rocks at water’s edge for some time enjoying the brilliant flash of sunlight reflected on the steely surface of the water, the thin layer of mist only partially obscuring the contours of the green land masses in the distance, and the almost spectral play of mist and color over the trees above the beach.
It was as though there was a rainbow whose colors were barely perceptible, shimmering just behind the evening light.
One of the students, a young girl clambered up on the rocks just behind me when my back was turned. I realized that they were trying to get shots of the sunset and my presence was obscuring the view, but she gave me a beautiful and unselfconscious smile as she posed for her friends.
I discreetly removed myself from the foreground and found a bench a few feet down the walkway where I paused to watch the sun’s slow progress towards the water, and the delightful play of light involved and to listen to the enchanting sounds of their voices and laughter.
As the sun continued its descent the evening chill began to creep in, and so I moved and walked back down towards the Aids Memorial, where I usually make my way back up to my apartment. I am still using my cane so the walk was slow and meditative.
I paused many times to admire the play of light over the surfaces of the trees and building, and could not help but think about my good friend Herb in his last years, and how he used to do the same thing.
A man appeared carrying a djembe or African style hand drum, settled himself on the rocks above the water and began a slow symphonic tone poem to the setting sun.
Just before I turned up the hill, I noticed a flash of bronze from the rock jetty reaching out into the bay. It was the golden sunlight catching the contours of the bare bottom of a young girl almost camouflaged among the grey rocks.
She had taken down her panties to pee and with the clumsy grace only a young girl can muster, she managed to raise her bum straight up in the air before finally settling down to a more sheltered position. She may have been about 11 or 12 years old, and her mother or older sister stood at the top of the rocks protecting and watching her.
When she finished she clambered up the rocks like a young gazelle and into the lap of the woman and they began to embrace and kiss each other with a kind of playful and erotic gentleness that can only arise between those bonded in spirit and love.
I was far enough away that they couldn't see me watching and I confess I didn't want to tear my eyes away from them; the dance between the two of them was so sublime.
The young girl could not seem to get enough of the hugging and kissing, and did everything she could to entice the other to continue. The older woman while trying to maintain decorum and some distance between them, was obviously enraptured by the energy of the young girl and finally gave up, becoming 12 years old herself and immersing herself in ecstasy of the moment.
At this point I gave up trying to climb the hill and found an empty bench once again to enjoy the full spectacle of the sunset, weather the evening chill, and watch the last of the tug-of-war between the two on the rocks until the deepening dusk drove them to their feet and back up to the seawall.
Now I wonder how I am going to find the words to describe this, I thought as I walked home and meditated on the shape and substance of tomorrow’s blog.
Last evening however was pristine and beautiful along the seawall and I stayed to enjoy the sunset. It was one of those evenings you don’t want to miss, echoing some of the beautiful sunsets I witnessed last year at this time.
I took my usual evening walk along Harwood to Burrard and then over to Hornby where I cut down to the seawall. I took my time, making my way back under the Burrard Street Bridge to Sunset Beach and then on to the Inukshuk at English Bay.
There was a group of about 12 Asian students enjoying the spectacle and enjoying themselves enjoying it, taking numerous digital photos and posing and making faces for the camera. Their good energy was infectious while at the same time remaining unobtrusive.
Since all the benches were being used, I stood by the rocks at water’s edge for some time enjoying the brilliant flash of sunlight reflected on the steely surface of the water, the thin layer of mist only partially obscuring the contours of the green land masses in the distance, and the almost spectral play of mist and color over the trees above the beach.
It was as though there was a rainbow whose colors were barely perceptible, shimmering just behind the evening light.
One of the students, a young girl clambered up on the rocks just behind me when my back was turned. I realized that they were trying to get shots of the sunset and my presence was obscuring the view, but she gave me a beautiful and unselfconscious smile as she posed for her friends.
I discreetly removed myself from the foreground and found a bench a few feet down the walkway where I paused to watch the sun’s slow progress towards the water, and the delightful play of light involved and to listen to the enchanting sounds of their voices and laughter.
As the sun continued its descent the evening chill began to creep in, and so I moved and walked back down towards the Aids Memorial, where I usually make my way back up to my apartment. I am still using my cane so the walk was slow and meditative.
I paused many times to admire the play of light over the surfaces of the trees and building, and could not help but think about my good friend Herb in his last years, and how he used to do the same thing.
A man appeared carrying a djembe or African style hand drum, settled himself on the rocks above the water and began a slow symphonic tone poem to the setting sun.
Just before I turned up the hill, I noticed a flash of bronze from the rock jetty reaching out into the bay. It was the golden sunlight catching the contours of the bare bottom of a young girl almost camouflaged among the grey rocks.
She had taken down her panties to pee and with the clumsy grace only a young girl can muster, she managed to raise her bum straight up in the air before finally settling down to a more sheltered position. She may have been about 11 or 12 years old, and her mother or older sister stood at the top of the rocks protecting and watching her.
When she finished she clambered up the rocks like a young gazelle and into the lap of the woman and they began to embrace and kiss each other with a kind of playful and erotic gentleness that can only arise between those bonded in spirit and love.
I was far enough away that they couldn't see me watching and I confess I didn't want to tear my eyes away from them; the dance between the two of them was so sublime.
The young girl could not seem to get enough of the hugging and kissing, and did everything she could to entice the other to continue. The older woman while trying to maintain decorum and some distance between them, was obviously enraptured by the energy of the young girl and finally gave up, becoming 12 years old herself and immersing herself in ecstasy of the moment.
At this point I gave up trying to climb the hill and found an empty bench once again to enjoy the full spectacle of the sunset, weather the evening chill, and watch the last of the tug-of-war between the two on the rocks until the deepening dusk drove them to their feet and back up to the seawall.
Now I wonder how I am going to find the words to describe this, I thought as I walked home and meditated on the shape and substance of tomorrow’s blog.
Friday, September 05, 2008
The things we take for granted...
Good news...all things being equal I will return to work on September 18th.
My balance is still wonky but closer to normal than it’s been since mid-August when I was admitted to hospital.
I was speaking to one of my co-workers on Wednesday and she told me the same thing happened to her a while back, an air-born viral infection of the inner ear causing vertigo for over 2 weeks.
The things we don’t know! I joked that had they picked me up on the street, they would’ve thrown me in the drunk tank.
This week I was able to complete back to school shopping for son Kadir and so I am breathing easier.
When I go out each morning I usually hit the blood pressure kiosk at London Drugs to check things out but the great news is that my blood pressure/heart rate are now back to normal for the first time in several years.
I still carry my cane but at least until I get tired, I can mostly make my way carrying it under my arm, sort of like Fred Astaire heading out for a date with Ginger. Maybe there is slightly less spring in my step, but I’ve been told a top hat would not be entirely out of place!
It was the luck of the draw that when I went into the ER on August 13th, they told me my heart rate was irregular; fibrillation was the term they used. I was prescribed a beta blocker called Metoprolol while in hospital, as well as low dose aspirin. The Plendil I had been taking earlier this year did little to restore blood pressure to normal level and caused me bowel problems but the Metoprolol seems to be working. I take 50 mg twice a day and so far, so good.
I would like to thank all friends for their prayers and well wishes during a difficult period and for their active support. Also a huge THANK YOU to my co-workers for the lovely flowers and the beautiful get-well-soon card decorated with hand painted Echinacea blossoms and signed by so many there was no room left on the card.
For a guy who was told only a month ago that he might never walk normally again (when they were still talking stroke) I am counting my blessings.
The things we take for granted!!!
My balance is still wonky but closer to normal than it’s been since mid-August when I was admitted to hospital.
I was speaking to one of my co-workers on Wednesday and she told me the same thing happened to her a while back, an air-born viral infection of the inner ear causing vertigo for over 2 weeks.
The things we don’t know! I joked that had they picked me up on the street, they would’ve thrown me in the drunk tank.
This week I was able to complete back to school shopping for son Kadir and so I am breathing easier.
When I go out each morning I usually hit the blood pressure kiosk at London Drugs to check things out but the great news is that my blood pressure/heart rate are now back to normal for the first time in several years.
I still carry my cane but at least until I get tired, I can mostly make my way carrying it under my arm, sort of like Fred Astaire heading out for a date with Ginger. Maybe there is slightly less spring in my step, but I’ve been told a top hat would not be entirely out of place!
It was the luck of the draw that when I went into the ER on August 13th, they told me my heart rate was irregular; fibrillation was the term they used. I was prescribed a beta blocker called Metoprolol while in hospital, as well as low dose aspirin. The Plendil I had been taking earlier this year did little to restore blood pressure to normal level and caused me bowel problems but the Metoprolol seems to be working. I take 50 mg twice a day and so far, so good.
I would like to thank all friends for their prayers and well wishes during a difficult period and for their active support. Also a huge THANK YOU to my co-workers for the lovely flowers and the beautiful get-well-soon card decorated with hand painted Echinacea blossoms and signed by so many there was no room left on the card.
For a guy who was told only a month ago that he might never walk normally again (when they were still talking stroke) I am counting my blessings.
The things we take for granted!!!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Cardiac Echo Pin-Up Guy!
I woke around 6:40 a.m. nicely beating my alarm which was set for 7. I have a much better day if I don't wake up artificially.
I stepped out of bed certain that my balance would be more stable today, but as soon as I stood up I lurched sideways and had to grab for support. Ah well, I guess these things take time.
I began preparing for an early morning visit to the Cardiac Echo Lab at St. Paul’s, but although I planned to wait until afterwards to have breakfast I still managed my exercises and prayers beforehand.
I have a lot to be thankful for!
I dressed, grabbed my cane and wobbled up Mr. Magoo style (Waldo, is that you?) to Saint Paul's, taking my time.
They took the scheduled heart ultrasound at 8:15 a.m. It was one of the rare instances where a hospital exam took place without the wait. I guess in this type of test, any stress caused by waiting would affect the results.
The young technician had me take my shirt off, asked if I had any health problems and when I told her lymphoma she asked if I had lost weight.
“Ghastly isn’t it?” I quipped in re my skin and bones physique...and then I assured her I had always been this thin.
The good news was that my heart is in such good shape she wanted extra shots of it.
She told me the muscle and shape of my heart was near perfect.
“I don’t usually take this long” she gushed, “but I wanted to get more pictures.”
Who needs big biceps and a 6-pack?
I stepped out of bed certain that my balance would be more stable today, but as soon as I stood up I lurched sideways and had to grab for support. Ah well, I guess these things take time.
I began preparing for an early morning visit to the Cardiac Echo Lab at St. Paul’s, but although I planned to wait until afterwards to have breakfast I still managed my exercises and prayers beforehand.
I have a lot to be thankful for!
I dressed, grabbed my cane and wobbled up Mr. Magoo style (Waldo, is that you?) to Saint Paul's, taking my time.
They took the scheduled heart ultrasound at 8:15 a.m. It was one of the rare instances where a hospital exam took place without the wait. I guess in this type of test, any stress caused by waiting would affect the results.
The young technician had me take my shirt off, asked if I had any health problems and when I told her lymphoma she asked if I had lost weight.
“Ghastly isn’t it?” I quipped in re my skin and bones physique...and then I assured her I had always been this thin.
The good news was that my heart is in such good shape she wanted extra shots of it.
She told me the muscle and shape of my heart was near perfect.
“I don’t usually take this long” she gushed, “but I wanted to get more pictures.”
Who needs big biceps and a 6-pack?
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
A gift from Zeus
It is Tuesday morning and I am home from the hospital. Wednesday night I was hit by a thunderbolt that literally knocked me off my feet. And I have been suffering vertigo ever since. Unfortunately this is only partially metaphoric.
As I mentioned in my blog Wednesday morning I was going off to locate the E. Pauline Johnson memorial in Stanley Park. I intended to have a short visit with the poet “in company” with my late mom who was a writer of poetry herself and an admirer of Ms Johnson. It would, I thought, be a perfect ending to my days off before returning to work Thursday.
I located the memorial with little problem near 3rd Beach in Stanley Park. It is a large rock in a grove of Maple trees inscribed with the poet’s Christian and Native names, and a likeness of her profile carved into the rock. There is a stream of water running through and over the rock face and into a shallow basin and another larger pool at the base of it.
I ran my hands over the rock and the contours of the poet’s carved face and examined all sides of the rock to gather more detail. On the right side I noticed what appeared to be a jutting shard of rock about 6 inches long, which on closer examination proved to be the carefully carved prow of a birch bark canoe emerging from the rock, and resting inside the canoe a small paddle.
I bathed my face in the water and said a few short prayers of thanksgiving before proceeding along the newly constructed trail/walkway on the ridge above Siwash Rock. This is one of the areas that are being restored after the destructive storm 2 years ago and it is a beauty.
After this I walked home, made dinner and then went down to the beach to watch the sunset.
About 7:30 p.m. I went home to check emails. I sat down at my computer and that is when Zeus threw his thunderbolt.
Everything on the computer screen began to scroll from right to left, I could not focus and I felt that I was going to fall off my chair. At the same time I was becoming violently nauseous and knew I had to get to the washroom. The only way to do that was on my hands and knees.
In a few seconds all my beautiful home cooked dinner was down the toilet but I continued to heave for about another ½ an hour. When the heaving stopped I attempted to stand up. There was absolutely no inner co-ordination and I just toppled over to one side, like a stuffed toy.
I got back up on my hands and knees and rested my forehead on the bathroom floor. I stayed that way for about another 15 minutes and then tried to stand again. Same thing! And to make matters worse, the heaving up began again.
I knew I had to do something quickly but didn’t want to involve family members and worry them and so I called 911.
Rather than go through all the details I will just compact everything by saying I spent 5 days in Saint Paul’s, during which time I had hardly any sleep, was told I might never walk again, had numerous doctors and nurses poking and prodding me at all hours of the day and night, and was suffering severe hallucinations from the Gravol they had mainlined into my veins.
Eventually an MRI scan confirmed that I had not suffered a stroke.
The attending doctor’s prognosis was that it was an inner ear viral infection which is sometimes mistaken for a stroke.
The vertigo problem continues though. On my second day home I am still wobbling around as though I am drunk, and have to use a cane when I go outside for a walk. If the vertigo persists I will have to visit a Neuromuscular Disease specialist.
I have to go back to Saint Paul’s tomorrow for a heart ultrasound test.
When Zeus tosses a thunderbolt, he doesn’t mess around. And it can sure screw up your whole routine!
As I mentioned in my blog Wednesday morning I was going off to locate the E. Pauline Johnson memorial in Stanley Park. I intended to have a short visit with the poet “in company” with my late mom who was a writer of poetry herself and an admirer of Ms Johnson. It would, I thought, be a perfect ending to my days off before returning to work Thursday.
I located the memorial with little problem near 3rd Beach in Stanley Park. It is a large rock in a grove of Maple trees inscribed with the poet’s Christian and Native names, and a likeness of her profile carved into the rock. There is a stream of water running through and over the rock face and into a shallow basin and another larger pool at the base of it.
I ran my hands over the rock and the contours of the poet’s carved face and examined all sides of the rock to gather more detail. On the right side I noticed what appeared to be a jutting shard of rock about 6 inches long, which on closer examination proved to be the carefully carved prow of a birch bark canoe emerging from the rock, and resting inside the canoe a small paddle.
I bathed my face in the water and said a few short prayers of thanksgiving before proceeding along the newly constructed trail/walkway on the ridge above Siwash Rock. This is one of the areas that are being restored after the destructive storm 2 years ago and it is a beauty.
After this I walked home, made dinner and then went down to the beach to watch the sunset.
About 7:30 p.m. I went home to check emails. I sat down at my computer and that is when Zeus threw his thunderbolt.
Everything on the computer screen began to scroll from right to left, I could not focus and I felt that I was going to fall off my chair. At the same time I was becoming violently nauseous and knew I had to get to the washroom. The only way to do that was on my hands and knees.
In a few seconds all my beautiful home cooked dinner was down the toilet but I continued to heave for about another ½ an hour. When the heaving stopped I attempted to stand up. There was absolutely no inner co-ordination and I just toppled over to one side, like a stuffed toy.
I got back up on my hands and knees and rested my forehead on the bathroom floor. I stayed that way for about another 15 minutes and then tried to stand again. Same thing! And to make matters worse, the heaving up began again.
I knew I had to do something quickly but didn’t want to involve family members and worry them and so I called 911.
Rather than go through all the details I will just compact everything by saying I spent 5 days in Saint Paul’s, during which time I had hardly any sleep, was told I might never walk again, had numerous doctors and nurses poking and prodding me at all hours of the day and night, and was suffering severe hallucinations from the Gravol they had mainlined into my veins.
Eventually an MRI scan confirmed that I had not suffered a stroke.
The attending doctor’s prognosis was that it was an inner ear viral infection which is sometimes mistaken for a stroke.
The vertigo problem continues though. On my second day home I am still wobbling around as though I am drunk, and have to use a cane when I go outside for a walk. If the vertigo persists I will have to visit a Neuromuscular Disease specialist.
I have to go back to Saint Paul’s tomorrow for a heart ultrasound test.
When Zeus tosses a thunderbolt, he doesn’t mess around. And it can sure screw up your whole routine!
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