As those who read my blog will notice I haven’t posted much of anything new this month, after my initial entries. My apologies.
The problem I have with just putting stuff in there to fill up the space is that I would rather not do it if it is not both creative and positive.
For example, I don’t want to talk about my feelings for a few people in my life that have come to mean a lot to me. These are personal, and I am not in the mood to share them publically. Nor do I wish to vent using my blog. I would rather issue feelings and sentiments of love and strength.
There is plenty of negativity circulating out there in cyberspace anyway, as in the world at large and why not offset it with a shot of love?
The fact that I write for myself every day keeping my journal is the main grist for my mill, and it satisfies the urge to write for the sake of writing.
There is something about the discipline of putting words to page that gives me a feeling of utter satisfaction, and who is to say where this comes from but it has become an integral part of my life over the past 40 or so years.
When I have entered my journal at the beginning of each day, I feel my day has properly begun. It is as integral a discipline as washing my face and saying my morning prayers.
The Sufi teacher Hazrat Inayat Khan not only displayed but wrote about the power of words in his books. He wrote:
Among all the things in this world that are valuable, the word is the most precious for in the word you can find the light that gems and jewels do not possess. In the word you can find an intoxication which no wine can give; in a word you can find a life that could heal the wounds of the heart. - From "The Smiling Forehead" published in 1973 by the Rainbow Bridge Press.
Early on in my life I became aware of the power of words to heal or hurt and I promised myself that I would teach myself to use them wisely. This power is as active in what you say to yourself as in what you express to others.
It is a lesson I am still learning.
Here is a link to some of the writings of Inayat posted on line (thank you brother Wahiduddin):
The Smiling Forehead
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
The Lion in Winter
I guess after all the groundhog was right and now March has come in like a lion with high winds, freezing rain and today a new blanket of thick snow that continues to fall at 9:34 a.m.
The early evening sleet storm had stopped by the time I left the office last night and so snow this morning was the last thing I expected. I have a feeling that many morning commuters will have the same thought.
I am still feeling the effects of the hour lost sleep as daylight savings time kicked in yesterday and this morning I woke at a couple of minutes to 9 out of a deep dream in which a robotic animal with sharp teeth was biting it’s way through a barrier or chain by way of providing more fun for my infant son.
That image is echoing the meaning of snow to an adult who has to trudge through it to work while the child revels in building a snowman.
It was not so very long that I would wake in weather like this to the plaintive cries of my young children. "Come outside dad and help me build a snowman!" And me of course with a cup of hot coffee in hand, stubbornly dragging my heels all the way to the front yard. Such precious memories and so very fleeting.
The one bright spot about trudging through the snow to work is the bright and smiling faces of my friends and co-workers once I arrive. And I doubt very much that this light blast of snow will compare to the blast earlier this year that turned my neighborhood into a prairie winter suburb.
Then of course there is the laughable comparison of our wet coast climate to anything east of Hope, B.C.
Here in the Hawaii of Canada we can afford to play with the lion in winter. Elsewhere we might be devoured by it!
This old boy might be anyway!
The early evening sleet storm had stopped by the time I left the office last night and so snow this morning was the last thing I expected. I have a feeling that many morning commuters will have the same thought.
I am still feeling the effects of the hour lost sleep as daylight savings time kicked in yesterday and this morning I woke at a couple of minutes to 9 out of a deep dream in which a robotic animal with sharp teeth was biting it’s way through a barrier or chain by way of providing more fun for my infant son.
That image is echoing the meaning of snow to an adult who has to trudge through it to work while the child revels in building a snowman.
It was not so very long that I would wake in weather like this to the plaintive cries of my young children. "Come outside dad and help me build a snowman!" And me of course with a cup of hot coffee in hand, stubbornly dragging my heels all the way to the front yard. Such precious memories and so very fleeting.
The one bright spot about trudging through the snow to work is the bright and smiling faces of my friends and co-workers once I arrive. And I doubt very much that this light blast of snow will compare to the blast earlier this year that turned my neighborhood into a prairie winter suburb.
Then of course there is the laughable comparison of our wet coast climate to anything east of Hope, B.C.
Here in the Hawaii of Canada we can afford to play with the lion in winter. Elsewhere we might be devoured by it!
This old boy might be anyway!
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Precious Time with Kadir
It’s already February 22nd and I have only posted once this month.
I have been feeling very tired and not very creative, basically putting one foot after the other to get through the work weeks.
The one bright spot was last Wednesday when Kadir came over again and we walked down to Sport Mart to get him a gym strip.
Our visit started out with a mini-lecture from me as he was an hour late and didn’t seem to think an explanation was necessary. This kind of tardiness was congenital with all his siblings too and only when they got older did they get the message that punctuality was a definite asset.
I tried to explain that when he was that late I doubted he would come at all and was close to leaving to do something else. He lectured me back.
“Why are you upset? It was the first sunny day in a long time (not true but perhaps the first sunny day when he was actually at school) and I was playing hacky-sack with my friends.”
“Didn’t you think I might be worried? I countered.
“Well, occupy yourself!”
He one-lined me into submission and gave me a withering and pitying look to follow the words.
He'd already given me the best news I've heard in a while. He's back in school and he told me his counselor has worked out a strategy for him to get through grade 10 if he takes his Science separately in summer school. It looks do-able to him and that is a huge incentive.
At Sport Mart we were fortunate to come upon a bargain in the gym clothes and shoes and he was happy with his purchases. At one point a young girl with a name tag reading Natalia and a strong accent was looking for his size in shoes and he had wandered off to another isle.
She found his size and so I called him over by name. The look on her face was one of pure wonder. “Where are you from?” she asked.
“From here,” I replied.
“That is a Russian name,” she offered up with a face of pure innocence and delight.
I took him for a close up of the new Shangri-La high rise and we went to Urban Fare for a bite. He had suggested Wendy’s but for the same price I knew I could get him a chicken dinner c/w potatoes, rice, veggies and gravy.
While I was paying for it he disappeared, to get us a table I thought. When I arrived at the table, he was bent over the take-out box and savagely wolfing down his dinner…never mind waiting for dad. It looked like he hadn’t eaten in a month. I guess that's what a 15 year old appetite looks like!
By the time I started into my dinner, he was finished and politely asking if another piece of chicken would cost much. No problem…I just forked mine over, as I wasn’t really hungry and knew I could catch up later at home.
Afterwards we walked across the street to Tim Horton’s for a hot chocolate to sip on the way to the bus stop. We were so deep in talk that I missed Howe Street and we found ourselves at Richards and Georgia and so we looped back around to the courthouse where the bus stop is located.
We sat on a nearby planter ledge and talked some more while waiting for the Oak Street bus.
When the bus arrived I kissed him goodbye and told him I loved him and was proud of him. How I wish my dad had said those words to me as a teenager.
As he boarded the bus he was hooking up to his I-Pod and though I jockeyed to get a last wave and could see him clearly as the bus pulled away, he was looking straight ahead and already gone into another dimension…a big change from the days when we used to exchange numerous waves goodbye until out of sight of each other.
But the feeling of warmth and love I was bathed in on my walk home along the darkening streets was evidence of the worth of this precious time spent with my son.
I have been feeling very tired and not very creative, basically putting one foot after the other to get through the work weeks.
The one bright spot was last Wednesday when Kadir came over again and we walked down to Sport Mart to get him a gym strip.
Our visit started out with a mini-lecture from me as he was an hour late and didn’t seem to think an explanation was necessary. This kind of tardiness was congenital with all his siblings too and only when they got older did they get the message that punctuality was a definite asset.
I tried to explain that when he was that late I doubted he would come at all and was close to leaving to do something else. He lectured me back.
“Why are you upset? It was the first sunny day in a long time (not true but perhaps the first sunny day when he was actually at school) and I was playing hacky-sack with my friends.”
“Didn’t you think I might be worried? I countered.
“Well, occupy yourself!”
He one-lined me into submission and gave me a withering and pitying look to follow the words.
He'd already given me the best news I've heard in a while. He's back in school and he told me his counselor has worked out a strategy for him to get through grade 10 if he takes his Science separately in summer school. It looks do-able to him and that is a huge incentive.
At Sport Mart we were fortunate to come upon a bargain in the gym clothes and shoes and he was happy with his purchases. At one point a young girl with a name tag reading Natalia and a strong accent was looking for his size in shoes and he had wandered off to another isle.
She found his size and so I called him over by name. The look on her face was one of pure wonder. “Where are you from?” she asked.
“From here,” I replied.
“That is a Russian name,” she offered up with a face of pure innocence and delight.
I took him for a close up of the new Shangri-La high rise and we went to Urban Fare for a bite. He had suggested Wendy’s but for the same price I knew I could get him a chicken dinner c/w potatoes, rice, veggies and gravy.
While I was paying for it he disappeared, to get us a table I thought. When I arrived at the table, he was bent over the take-out box and savagely wolfing down his dinner…never mind waiting for dad. It looked like he hadn’t eaten in a month. I guess that's what a 15 year old appetite looks like!
By the time I started into my dinner, he was finished and politely asking if another piece of chicken would cost much. No problem…I just forked mine over, as I wasn’t really hungry and knew I could catch up later at home.
Afterwards we walked across the street to Tim Horton’s for a hot chocolate to sip on the way to the bus stop. We were so deep in talk that I missed Howe Street and we found ourselves at Richards and Georgia and so we looped back around to the courthouse where the bus stop is located.
We sat on a nearby planter ledge and talked some more while waiting for the Oak Street bus.
When the bus arrived I kissed him goodbye and told him I loved him and was proud of him. How I wish my dad had said those words to me as a teenager.
As he boarded the bus he was hooking up to his I-Pod and though I jockeyed to get a last wave and could see him clearly as the bus pulled away, he was looking straight ahead and already gone into another dimension…a big change from the days when we used to exchange numerous waves goodbye until out of sight of each other.
But the feeling of warmth and love I was bathed in on my walk home along the darkening streets was evidence of the worth of this precious time spent with my son.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
A New and Brighter Day
This morning after only one day of the ground hog grumblings of 6 more weeks of winter the sun came out.
Even the normally taciturn post lady offered a greeting as I came up from the laundry room and astonished me by stating what a nice day it was.
After all there's hope!
I received a Twitter message from my friend Danny advising that as per its Superbowl announcement, Denny's Restaurants all across North America were offering free Grand Slam breakfasts to all comers until 2 p.m. I slid in just under the wire and our local Denny's at Thurlow and Davie looked like the Union Gospel Mission on Christmas Day.
The CNN news media twittered back:
Denny's slammed by breakfast giveaway http://tinyurl.com/att4bh
This sort of advertising campaign, a brilliant stroke of intuitive genius in a jaded corporate world would not have been thinkable before Barak Obama and the current economic crisis.
I had never seen the restaurant so busy, and despite the protests and complaints of the usual still-drunk-from-the-night-before rowdies, the staff and management with all hands on and perhaps triple its usual staff were a living breathing example of the meaning of customer service and generosity of spirit.
And what a note of optimism to sound in a year amid thunderings of doom and gloom!
After my hearty breakfast and over a month of snow, rain, sleet and freezing temperatures rarely seen on the West Coast I took my first seawall walk of the year to English Bay.
Down at the waterfront a grizzled veteran in Cowboy hat and rawhides who usually strums aimlessly at his guitar amid shouts and jokes to his drinking buddies on the nearby benches was in the middle of a full fledged rounding version of Marguaritaville, while an elderly lady sat by his side head inclined in rapt listening attention and with a look of admiration in her eyes as she gazed at him. He sounded pretty damn good, so good that his usual ranting buddies also shut up and watched him!
I made it all the way to English Bay and home in about an hour and a half after a stop or two along the way.
Thunderclouds on the horizon be damned, it is this kind of day that makes one want to shout Halleluliah!
And when I got home and checked email my thoughts and visualization of the night before were proved prophetic. I received a note from my son Ky who is now in Barcelona and walked down to the waterfront for his first ever glimpse of the splendid Mediterranean Sea.
For today anyway, its a new dawn and a new day!
Even the normally taciturn post lady offered a greeting as I came up from the laundry room and astonished me by stating what a nice day it was.
After all there's hope!
I received a Twitter message from my friend Danny advising that as per its Superbowl announcement, Denny's Restaurants all across North America were offering free Grand Slam breakfasts to all comers until 2 p.m. I slid in just under the wire and our local Denny's at Thurlow and Davie looked like the Union Gospel Mission on Christmas Day.
The CNN news media twittered back:
Denny's slammed by breakfast giveaway http://tinyurl.com/att4bh
This sort of advertising campaign, a brilliant stroke of intuitive genius in a jaded corporate world would not have been thinkable before Barak Obama and the current economic crisis.
I had never seen the restaurant so busy, and despite the protests and complaints of the usual still-drunk-from-the-night-before rowdies, the staff and management with all hands on and perhaps triple its usual staff were a living breathing example of the meaning of customer service and generosity of spirit.
And what a note of optimism to sound in a year amid thunderings of doom and gloom!
After my hearty breakfast and over a month of snow, rain, sleet and freezing temperatures rarely seen on the West Coast I took my first seawall walk of the year to English Bay.
Down at the waterfront a grizzled veteran in Cowboy hat and rawhides who usually strums aimlessly at his guitar amid shouts and jokes to his drinking buddies on the nearby benches was in the middle of a full fledged rounding version of Marguaritaville, while an elderly lady sat by his side head inclined in rapt listening attention and with a look of admiration in her eyes as she gazed at him. He sounded pretty damn good, so good that his usual ranting buddies also shut up and watched him!
I made it all the way to English Bay and home in about an hour and a half after a stop or two along the way.
Thunderclouds on the horizon be damned, it is this kind of day that makes one want to shout Halleluliah!
And when I got home and checked email my thoughts and visualization of the night before were proved prophetic. I received a note from my son Ky who is now in Barcelona and walked down to the waterfront for his first ever glimpse of the splendid Mediterranean Sea.
For today anyway, its a new dawn and a new day!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
A Young Man Arrives in London
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"!
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 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!
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