"There's a bird that nests inside you
Sleeping underneath your skin
When you open up your wings to speak
I wish you'd let me in"
- A Murder of One
(Adam Duritz, Counting Crows)
Also, this made me smile... Counting Crows and Hootie covering an old Dylan song...
Go...
HERE.
And listen.
T
Friday, February 13, 2009
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Spilling over... not completely coherent, but words are written
Don't mistake no news for good news
Since I know that hearing nothing is the hardest thing to hear.
Don't mistake thoughts about you
For good thoughts, or happy thoughts,
Because in my own estimation, those thoughts can be thoughts
About not knowing what to do and wondering if it's worth it all.
Don't think that my distance
is a means to another end
Because I think I've figured out
that this is a common, constant trend.
And don't assume you know my thoughts, because baby, if you do,
Then you may that we're on the cusp of facing a lose-lose.
I come here to be quiet,
I come here to be sad,
Because I don't let the quiet
Drive me wholly mad.
Sadness is a leaky dyke
That can cause the waters to break
So I simply try to not indulge
The sadness while I wake.
But here's a place of comfort
Of silent self-concern
Where I can be just a little sad,
A place where I can yearn.
Because I'm waking up each morning
And wondering about the day
And wondering if I'll ever retrieve the girl
Who stole my heart away.
I guess that's just what happens
When you give your love a chance.
Does the future rests within my grip?
Or is it happenstance?
T
Since I know that hearing nothing is the hardest thing to hear.
Don't mistake thoughts about you
For good thoughts, or happy thoughts,
Because in my own estimation, those thoughts can be thoughts
About not knowing what to do and wondering if it's worth it all.
Don't think that my distance
is a means to another end
Because I think I've figured out
that this is a common, constant trend.
And don't assume you know my thoughts, because baby, if you do,
Then you may that we're on the cusp of facing a lose-lose.
I come here to be quiet,
I come here to be sad,
Because I don't let the quiet
Drive me wholly mad.
Sadness is a leaky dyke
That can cause the waters to break
So I simply try to not indulge
The sadness while I wake.
But here's a place of comfort
Of silent self-concern
Where I can be just a little sad,
A place where I can yearn.
Because I'm waking up each morning
And wondering about the day
And wondering if I'll ever retrieve the girl
Who stole my heart away.
I guess that's just what happens
When you give your love a chance.
Does the future rests within my grip?
Or is it happenstance?
T
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
A Full-Circle Story... by/from a friend
A close friend of mine recently sent this story to Stuart McLean in hopes of having him read it for one of his contests. She sent it to me (because, as I'm sure you could've guessed, I was extremely intrigued by the statement, "... this story I sent to Stuart McLean...) and after reading it and connecting very closely to it, I asked her if I could share it here. So, here it is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did (and as much as Stuart McLean will).
***
The beginning of the circle starts at Pier 21 in Halifax in the year of 1949. My mother, who was born in Salzburg, Austria, came to Canada as a baby by boat with my grandparents. They took the train across the whole of Canada to the opposite coast, and the rest of what was to become a very big family grew up in Williams Lake, British Columbia, where my grandmother built up her own little “Austria in the woods”.
To skip a big section of the story, my mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis some years ago, and it developed so quickly that she is now in a wheelchair, living in a full-care nursing home where she, a relatively young woman, is nearly fully dependant on others for her care. I haven’t a clue how she does it, but she actually just smiles and laughs her way through each day and delights in all of life’s small joys. She even laughs at her disabilities. I ask, “Mami, what kind of memory exercises did you do with Papi today (Papi is my father)?” Long pause. Then she answers, “I can’t remember… What kind of games did we do?” and then we both laugh about the roaring success of these “memory exercises”.
I left the West Coast to go to Halifax to do my master’s at Dalhousie University which already tickled my mother and grandmother pink, but when I found out that our graduation party in December 2008 was to be held at Pier 21, we were all very excited. One of my many uncles called to say the family was trying to arrange to have my mother come out to Halifax for the celebration but that they needed my help on the East Coast end to arrange it. In the end, two cousins, an aunt, my grandmother, my mother, and our favourite care aid for my mother all came out from BC for the research presentation and graduation party in Halifax.
BUT… Canadian weather put a kink in our plans, as everyone except my grandmother missed a connecting flight due to fog. I sat in my room after hearing the news, anxious about my presentation the next morning and disappointed that they would not be there after all. The morning of our presentations, I looked around hopefully but did not see my family. When called, I walked up to do my presentation, turned around to begin, and saw the whole family entourage coming down the aisle toward me, fashionably late, as usual. The crowd giggled, and some friends told me later they shed a tear, as I had been talking about my aunt, cousins, grandmother, mother, and mother’s care aid coming for weeks… for months! I caught my breath and presented with them in front of me after all.
The celebration at Pier 21 was such a joy. My friends, as well as the staff and faculty of our school, truly made my family feel as if they were being received as royalty, and I will be forever grateful for that. Neither my mother nor grandmother had been back to Halifax since immigrating in 1949, and my grandfather passed away before he had the chance to go back himself. As we sat at our dinner table looking at the Austrian flag hanging over our heads, raising our glasses and singing “Ein Prosit,” I thought how perfectly wonderful this celebration was, how certain things can just fall into place to create the most meaningful of experiences. We danced the night away, my mother spinning around in her wheelchair and lasting well past midnight, and spent the next day browsing through the beautiful museum that now stands in the place of the old, original Pier 21. The staff there was also incredibly kind and generous. They kept Pier 21 open for us past closing hours, and one gentleman even snuck my grandmother a gift: a framed picture of the boat on which she came to Canada.
So, there you have this funny little full-circle story. Those were the most beautiful four days I could have imagined.
By D. Von Platen
***
The beginning of the circle starts at Pier 21 in Halifax in the year of 1949. My mother, who was born in Salzburg, Austria, came to Canada as a baby by boat with my grandparents. They took the train across the whole of Canada to the opposite coast, and the rest of what was to become a very big family grew up in Williams Lake, British Columbia, where my grandmother built up her own little “Austria in the woods”.
To skip a big section of the story, my mother was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis some years ago, and it developed so quickly that she is now in a wheelchair, living in a full-care nursing home where she, a relatively young woman, is nearly fully dependant on others for her care. I haven’t a clue how she does it, but she actually just smiles and laughs her way through each day and delights in all of life’s small joys. She even laughs at her disabilities. I ask, “Mami, what kind of memory exercises did you do with Papi today (Papi is my father)?” Long pause. Then she answers, “I can’t remember… What kind of games did we do?” and then we both laugh about the roaring success of these “memory exercises”.
I left the West Coast to go to Halifax to do my master’s at Dalhousie University which already tickled my mother and grandmother pink, but when I found out that our graduation party in December 2008 was to be held at Pier 21, we were all very excited. One of my many uncles called to say the family was trying to arrange to have my mother come out to Halifax for the celebration but that they needed my help on the East Coast end to arrange it. In the end, two cousins, an aunt, my grandmother, my mother, and our favourite care aid for my mother all came out from BC for the research presentation and graduation party in Halifax.
BUT… Canadian weather put a kink in our plans, as everyone except my grandmother missed a connecting flight due to fog. I sat in my room after hearing the news, anxious about my presentation the next morning and disappointed that they would not be there after all. The morning of our presentations, I looked around hopefully but did not see my family. When called, I walked up to do my presentation, turned around to begin, and saw the whole family entourage coming down the aisle toward me, fashionably late, as usual. The crowd giggled, and some friends told me later they shed a tear, as I had been talking about my aunt, cousins, grandmother, mother, and mother’s care aid coming for weeks… for months! I caught my breath and presented with them in front of me after all.
The celebration at Pier 21 was such a joy. My friends, as well as the staff and faculty of our school, truly made my family feel as if they were being received as royalty, and I will be forever grateful for that. Neither my mother nor grandmother had been back to Halifax since immigrating in 1949, and my grandfather passed away before he had the chance to go back himself. As we sat at our dinner table looking at the Austrian flag hanging over our heads, raising our glasses and singing “Ein Prosit,” I thought how perfectly wonderful this celebration was, how certain things can just fall into place to create the most meaningful of experiences. We danced the night away, my mother spinning around in her wheelchair and lasting well past midnight, and spent the next day browsing through the beautiful museum that now stands in the place of the old, original Pier 21. The staff there was also incredibly kind and generous. They kept Pier 21 open for us past closing hours, and one gentleman even snuck my grandmother a gift: a framed picture of the boat on which she came to Canada.
So, there you have this funny little full-circle story. Those were the most beautiful four days I could have imagined.
By D. Von Platen
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Sometimes...
... it just hurts so bad
And sometimes, I shed quiet tears in the night
Without anyone knowing how truly broken I feel
And how the waiting is more than a knife, more than a gun.
And sometimes, I shed quiet tears in the night
Without anyone knowing how truly broken I feel
And how the waiting is more than a knife, more than a gun.
Friday, January 30, 2009
I woke up one morning
And walked across the world
Just a bag and some fear in hand
Having no clue of what was to come
Arriving in a strangers land
Without a clue of where to go
But clasping a familiar hand
We walked bravely though the rain and snow
To a place that promised to take us
To a place we could pretend
That was warm and familiar and new,
And was just a little like home.
Twenty years of security
And meals thrice a day
I wondered how I'd feed myself
And how I'd find my way
But I kept on waking up
Wondering what to make of life
And what to do with the opportunity
To make it all seem right
So I walked on, my love
I walked on
And now I'm alone again
And so I just walk on
I walked on, my dear
I walked on
And now I'm here it's cold again
But still I just walk on.
I arose another morning
In another foreign land
Not sure of where to put my feet,
Was it water or was it land?
All I knew was my restlessness
My need to drink in the day
Like a thirst that had gripped me since my birth
And awakenend my destiny
So I walked on, my girl,
I walked on
My shadow at my side
I walked on, bella
I walked on
Assured of my stride
So here I am a lifetime later
Just fighting to wake for morning sun.
Bouts of nostalgia make me smile
Make me live, and make me run
But no longer am I running
From the fear that kept me at bay
This time I keep on running
To make sure I seize the day
I walk on, my love
I walk on
Not fearing whatever may come
I walk on, my soul,
I walk on,
I keep on 'til the day is done.
And walked across the world
Just a bag and some fear in hand
Having no clue of what was to come
Arriving in a strangers land
Without a clue of where to go
But clasping a familiar hand
We walked bravely though the rain and snow
To a place that promised to take us
To a place we could pretend
That was warm and familiar and new,
And was just a little like home.
Twenty years of security
And meals thrice a day
I wondered how I'd feed myself
And how I'd find my way
But I kept on waking up
Wondering what to make of life
And what to do with the opportunity
To make it all seem right
So I walked on, my love
I walked on
And now I'm alone again
And so I just walk on
I walked on, my dear
I walked on
And now I'm here it's cold again
But still I just walk on.
I arose another morning
In another foreign land
Not sure of where to put my feet,
Was it water or was it land?
All I knew was my restlessness
My need to drink in the day
Like a thirst that had gripped me since my birth
And awakenend my destiny
So I walked on, my girl,
I walked on
My shadow at my side
I walked on, bella
I walked on
Assured of my stride
So here I am a lifetime later
Just fighting to wake for morning sun.
Bouts of nostalgia make me smile
Make me live, and make me run
But no longer am I running
From the fear that kept me at bay
This time I keep on running
To make sure I seize the day
I walk on, my love
I walk on
Not fearing whatever may come
I walk on, my soul,
I walk on,
I keep on 'til the day is done.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Can you find me in this darkness
Or are you having too much trouble finding yourself
With your own hands and eyes?
I try to dress up for the cold
But what does it matter when I'm left outside
Knocking at the doors for days
and days
and days.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll be your biggest regret,
Or if, when I'm gone, you'd wish for me to return.
But right now I don't know if I'm staying or leaving
And I don't know where to abandon the sadness
To escape the shivering up my spine that's been haunting me
Ever since you told me not to come home.
I don't know how to convince you of our love
Or how to prove to you that I'm worthy our your love
And your faith
And the promises we made so many months ago.
I've tried my hardest to wait out the rain
But I can't get warm... it's just too damn cold
Everywhere I go.
I live in moments now where I forget about the chill
And I ignore the crows outside my window
Even though I see the murder waiting just beyond the door.
So here I am again
Not knowing what's inside and what's out
Or what to do about
Much of anything in my life.
So I sit, and try to sleep, and try to find some light
On my horizon.
It's just so dark
And so damn cold
I wonder if I'll ever sleep again.
T
Or are you having too much trouble finding yourself
With your own hands and eyes?
I try to dress up for the cold
But what does it matter when I'm left outside
Knocking at the doors for days
and days
and days.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll be your biggest regret,
Or if, when I'm gone, you'd wish for me to return.
But right now I don't know if I'm staying or leaving
And I don't know where to abandon the sadness
To escape the shivering up my spine that's been haunting me
Ever since you told me not to come home.
I don't know how to convince you of our love
Or how to prove to you that I'm worthy our your love
And your faith
And the promises we made so many months ago.
I've tried my hardest to wait out the rain
But I can't get warm... it's just too damn cold
Everywhere I go.
I live in moments now where I forget about the chill
And I ignore the crows outside my window
Even though I see the murder waiting just beyond the door.
So here I am again
Not knowing what's inside and what's out
Or what to do about
Much of anything in my life.
So I sit, and try to sleep, and try to find some light
On my horizon.
It's just so dark
And so damn cold
I wonder if I'll ever sleep again.
T
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Bringing me down...
Gravity
Gravity is working against me.
And gravity wants to bring me down.
I'll never know what makes a man
With all the love his heart can stand
Dream of ways to throw it all away.
Gravity is working against me.
And gravity wants to bring me down.
Twice as much ain't twice as good
And can't sustain like one-half could.
It's wanting more that's gonna send me to my knees.
Gravity, stay the hell away from me.
And gravity has taken better men than me.
But how could that be?
Just keep me where the light is.
Just keep me where the light is.
Come on keep me where the light is.
Come on keep me where the light is...
- John Mayer
Gravity is working against me.
And gravity wants to bring me down.
I'll never know what makes a man
With all the love his heart can stand
Dream of ways to throw it all away.
Gravity is working against me.
And gravity wants to bring me down.
Twice as much ain't twice as good
And can't sustain like one-half could.
It's wanting more that's gonna send me to my knees.
Gravity, stay the hell away from me.
And gravity has taken better men than me.
But how could that be?
Just keep me where the light is.
Just keep me where the light is.
Come on keep me where the light is.
Come on keep me where the light is...
- John Mayer
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Words to celebrate an inauguration
Stolen from L who stole it from Kelly. One of my favourite poets. There's a new face to things for our friends south of the border.
I, too, sing America
- by Langston Hughes
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed -
I, too, am America.
I, too, sing America
- by Langston Hughes
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed -
I, too, am America.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Night-time scribblings
I used to write poems for strangers, for friends,
sitting above swimming pools at institutions of higher learning,
lounging in coffee shops looking out on the wind-blown streets
and overlooking the dry river valleys below.
Now I write under rainy skies and look out on ocean views,
staring out into the water to see if love's found it's way back to me.
In the meantime, while I endlessly wait,
I write poems about that meantime, the in-between time,
words which fill that space between
fearing and wondering and knowing what's to come...
poems about the quiet, about what's left, about what may never come,
singing to myself,
as I fade into my own memories,
as I dance alone in a burning room*.
* reference to "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer
So I see you carrying that fire inside... but how will you put it to use?
Will you light the candles of others and spread some light around?
Or will it be the fire that burns you and consumes you from within?
sitting above swimming pools at institutions of higher learning,
lounging in coffee shops looking out on the wind-blown streets
and overlooking the dry river valleys below.
Now I write under rainy skies and look out on ocean views,
staring out into the water to see if love's found it's way back to me.
In the meantime, while I endlessly wait,
I write poems about that meantime, the in-between time,
words which fill that space between
fearing and wondering and knowing what's to come...
poems about the quiet, about what's left, about what may never come,
singing to myself,
as I fade into my own memories,
as I dance alone in a burning room*.
* reference to "Slow Dancing in a Burning Room" by John Mayer
So I see you carrying that fire inside... but how will you put it to use?
Will you light the candles of others and spread some light around?
Or will it be the fire that burns you and consumes you from within?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Where...
Have you ever been told not to mistake motion for action?
Or that you shouldn't pursue simple self-satisfaction?
For there are bigger things out there, and more to pursue
But the more you acquire means there's much more to lose.
Can I sleep off the lonely?
Can I shrug off the cold?
Can I outrun the anger
And break from the mold?
You hold on to your rage
Like a gun by your side
While licking your wounds
And maintaining your pride.
But when will I come back
Into focus for you?
Or are you trying to tell me
It's over, we're through?
I beg for your words
Like salvation, like rain.
But I receive just the silence,
The void, and the pain.
Will ever you find
What you lost in the start
Of all this bitterness
Or will you simply depart?
I've asked the question and had people respond as to whether one needs to be happy on one's own before they can be happy with someone else. I think the respondants reflected what I was thinking... that a strong sense of self is necessary (or, at the very least, quite useful) before embarking on the pursuit of a common life. So I keep wondering... have you met... you? And if so, do you like what you see?
And if you don't, where does
that
leave
me?
Or that you shouldn't pursue simple self-satisfaction?
For there are bigger things out there, and more to pursue
But the more you acquire means there's much more to lose.
Can I sleep off the lonely?
Can I shrug off the cold?
Can I outrun the anger
And break from the mold?
You hold on to your rage
Like a gun by your side
While licking your wounds
And maintaining your pride.
But when will I come back
Into focus for you?
Or are you trying to tell me
It's over, we're through?
I beg for your words
Like salvation, like rain.
But I receive just the silence,
The void, and the pain.
Will ever you find
What you lost in the start
Of all this bitterness
Or will you simply depart?
I've asked the question and had people respond as to whether one needs to be happy on one's own before they can be happy with someone else. I think the respondants reflected what I was thinking... that a strong sense of self is necessary (or, at the very least, quite useful) before embarking on the pursuit of a common life. So I keep wondering... have you met... you? And if so, do you like what you see?
And if you don't, where does
that
leave
me?
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Here
After nearly two weeks of virus-related issues (both physically and in my computer), I now have my internet access back again. I'll be around in coming days with more to say. Alas, the night is here and slumber awaits. Until then...
T
T
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Buying in
We walk through life with mantras by our side... these undeniable, obviously fundamental philosophies on life that are unchangeable. We keep them securely in our pockets, ready for action whenever needed. They shape our decisions, and we live by their dictates. We say, "This is what life is supposed to look like," or, "I need this above anything." We all have them... some of us take on more subtle ones, and others state them for the world. Some are founded in moralist qualities that take on sports analogies ("It's not about whether you win or lose, but how you play the game"). Others take on more universal approaches ("It's all about balance in life"... you'll catch me saying this). Whatever the case, we buy into these personal outlooks and shape our lives accordingly.
But what happens when what we've told ourselves is something that is just simply untrue? Or, at least not true for everyone? And what if it becomes so hardened within our resolve to act in a certain way that we cannot see outside the tunnel? How is light supposed to squeak in when the blinds are so tightly fastened?
I've been thinking a lot on this, and the only thing I can conclude is that sometimes we need to believe that an outsider's perspective, whether wanted or unwanted, can be enlightening. Without going into the details, I would love it if some people would weigh in on this question:
Do you have to be happy on your own before you can be happy with another person? Or is it possible to find personal happiness within the framework of a common happiness?
Let me know. And if my two or three readers can refer people to answer this question too, I'd really appreciate it.
T
But what happens when what we've told ourselves is something that is just simply untrue? Or, at least not true for everyone? And what if it becomes so hardened within our resolve to act in a certain way that we cannot see outside the tunnel? How is light supposed to squeak in when the blinds are so tightly fastened?
I've been thinking a lot on this, and the only thing I can conclude is that sometimes we need to believe that an outsider's perspective, whether wanted or unwanted, can be enlightening. Without going into the details, I would love it if some people would weigh in on this question:
Do you have to be happy on your own before you can be happy with another person? Or is it possible to find personal happiness within the framework of a common happiness?
Let me know. And if my two or three readers can refer people to answer this question too, I'd really appreciate it.
T
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Newness
Arriving, like a fresh sheet of innocence draped over the city
Hiding away the blemishes and mistakes.
Sadness arrives alongside this sheet of innocence,
Knowing that it only takes days to turn into an ugly mess
Where the serenity is abandoned in place of a marked world.
The same happens with the season...
In the beginning, there is hope and friendship
In lights
In colours
In song
In quiet moments
But the quiet is soon disregarded as frivolous
And instead of basking in moments, frittering aimlessly
There are deadlines and schedules that arise
Like schoolmasters and pencil pushers.
Why so fleeting, this sense of rebirth?
How does it become so easy to be dragged to the depths of motion
Where it's easy to forget about
The need to stop for brief seconds and simply look around
When calendars and itineraries await to dictate the day?
T
Hiding away the blemishes and mistakes.
Sadness arrives alongside this sheet of innocence,
Knowing that it only takes days to turn into an ugly mess
Where the serenity is abandoned in place of a marked world.
The same happens with the season...
In the beginning, there is hope and friendship
In lights
In colours
In song
In quiet moments
But the quiet is soon disregarded as frivolous
And instead of basking in moments, frittering aimlessly
There are deadlines and schedules that arise
Like schoolmasters and pencil pushers.
Why so fleeting, this sense of rebirth?
How does it become so easy to be dragged to the depths of motion
Where it's easy to forget about
The need to stop for brief seconds and simply look around
When calendars and itineraries await to dictate the day?
T
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Musing
You used to always tell me that I smelled like the outside
Like the world out there, so cluttered and uncertain
Not like the world inside...
Where things can be ordered, expected.
You liked to tell me you liked the outdoors
But I think you liked the idea more than the reality
Because the reality was untidy
Messy
Unpredictable.
This was the worst part... the unpredictability.
You couldn't plan or forsee everything that was to come
Whether it was a mouse
Or a mosquito looking for blood
Or simply a crackle in the bushes
And you couldn't step outside yourself long enough to know
That in this uncertainty is life
Is experience
Is that which is worth living for
And that which is memorable.
When do we even remember the plans for something we did?
The memories are in the doing
This is also where the learning lies.
A plan is helpful, and often necessary.
We all need maps and directions from time to time.
But it's driving that is life.
The action.
You've been waiting for a chance to take life by the throat
To wrangle it by the scruff of the neck
Confidently
With strength.
But it's been beside you all along
Holding your hand
Waiting for you to lead
Now you realize that you need to walk and move forward
In some semblance of your own direction
But you continue to turn... round... in circles.
But why not? Sure. It makes sense.
Circles are just so tidy.
And if you never go anywhere, can you really get lost?
I guess only if you were lost to begin with.
T
Like the world out there, so cluttered and uncertain
Not like the world inside...
Where things can be ordered, expected.
You liked to tell me you liked the outdoors
But I think you liked the idea more than the reality
Because the reality was untidy
Messy
Unpredictable.
This was the worst part... the unpredictability.
You couldn't plan or forsee everything that was to come
Whether it was a mouse
Or a mosquito looking for blood
Or simply a crackle in the bushes
And you couldn't step outside yourself long enough to know
That in this uncertainty is life
Is experience
Is that which is worth living for
And that which is memorable.
When do we even remember the plans for something we did?
The memories are in the doing
This is also where the learning lies.
A plan is helpful, and often necessary.
We all need maps and directions from time to time.
But it's driving that is life.
The action.
You've been waiting for a chance to take life by the throat
To wrangle it by the scruff of the neck
Confidently
With strength.
But it's been beside you all along
Holding your hand
Waiting for you to lead
Now you realize that you need to walk and move forward
In some semblance of your own direction
But you continue to turn... round... in circles.
But why not? Sure. It makes sense.
Circles are just so tidy.
And if you never go anywhere, can you really get lost?
I guess only if you were lost to begin with.
T
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Knowing I'm a lucky man
I can't begin to explain how many nights I've looked up to the cosmos and thanked my lucky stars for how my life has turned out and how I've been blessed on this planet over and over again. I've met some wonderful folks, experienced some absolutely amazing things, and have fantastic, supportive, and wholly good people in my circle. In a world that is full of messiness and apathy and frustration, I can't help but think I've lived a rosy existence. I realize that this is looking through rose-coloured lenses in the face of my own marital strife, but who's to say that there aren't multiple faces to my life?
Last week, I'd planned a big night of cheesy fun with as many people in Victoria as I knew. I thought it would be a riot to accumulate as many people and thermoses of Christmas cheer (and as many tacky sweaters) as possible, and go out carolling for the night. I'd even planned on collecting foodstuffs for the Mustard Seed in town in order to have a positive outcome beyond the wonderful hilarity that would've transpired throughout the evening of sing-song fun. Because everyone knows that Christmas cheer and cheesy sing-songs inspire hilarity and rampant guffawing!
Alas, I was met with a lot of non-replies, a lot of "sorry, we're busy"'s, and a couple of more vehement, "I hate carolling so much it makes me itch!" responses. Out of the twenty or so people I sent an invite to, I had one... ONE!... one reply to say she was on board and even planned to bring a friend. And that was it. And then the friend didn't come.
Obviously, I canned the idea. However, my lone reveller-friend decided that we should still do something good to spread the Christmas spirit tonight, even if it was with our party of two. So, we did. We met at her house and walked downtown, found a man who was hoping for some spare change, and instead of giving him change, treated him to a coffee, a sandwich, a snack, and some warm conversation on this Thursday evening. It was all D's idea, and I was truly inspired by her sincerity and wish to carry this out. The idea was sparked by her desire to NOT give her soon-to-be god-daughter any video games or other material Christmas presents, but to write them letters detailing something they'd done in the child's name. Like tonight... after the warm chatter, we took a picture with the man known as Tracy, and D is going to process the picture and send a letter to her god-daughter telling her the story of this star filled, snow covered, beautifully cold winter night where we know that someone is just a bit warmer than he would've been otherwise.
I think about the people in my life, and I know that some of them are just genuinely inspiring for all sorts of reasons. D takes the cake this year... I don't think I know of anyone so willing to put herself out there and approach someone in this manner and do something so selfless and simple. And maybe it's somewhat selfish (since she and I both felt great about it afterwards), and maybe it's not going to solve the world's malaise, but it was something. And if there were more somethings, then, well, you never know.
So I sit here and smile, knowing that even though I'm dealing with a mess of crap, there are other things out there... other lives that are suffering... and if I'm able to lend a hand here or there, then I should. I walked up to my house tonight looking at the deep blue-black sky dotted with stars and semi-concealed in non-commital clouds, and I know that there are things to smile about everywhere.
T
Last week, I'd planned a big night of cheesy fun with as many people in Victoria as I knew. I thought it would be a riot to accumulate as many people and thermoses of Christmas cheer (and as many tacky sweaters) as possible, and go out carolling for the night. I'd even planned on collecting foodstuffs for the Mustard Seed in town in order to have a positive outcome beyond the wonderful hilarity that would've transpired throughout the evening of sing-song fun. Because everyone knows that Christmas cheer and cheesy sing-songs inspire hilarity and rampant guffawing!
Alas, I was met with a lot of non-replies, a lot of "sorry, we're busy"'s, and a couple of more vehement, "I hate carolling so much it makes me itch!" responses. Out of the twenty or so people I sent an invite to, I had one... ONE!... one reply to say she was on board and even planned to bring a friend. And that was it. And then the friend didn't come.
Obviously, I canned the idea. However, my lone reveller-friend decided that we should still do something good to spread the Christmas spirit tonight, even if it was with our party of two. So, we did. We met at her house and walked downtown, found a man who was hoping for some spare change, and instead of giving him change, treated him to a coffee, a sandwich, a snack, and some warm conversation on this Thursday evening. It was all D's idea, and I was truly inspired by her sincerity and wish to carry this out. The idea was sparked by her desire to NOT give her soon-to-be god-daughter any video games or other material Christmas presents, but to write them letters detailing something they'd done in the child's name. Like tonight... after the warm chatter, we took a picture with the man known as Tracy, and D is going to process the picture and send a letter to her god-daughter telling her the story of this star filled, snow covered, beautifully cold winter night where we know that someone is just a bit warmer than he would've been otherwise.
I think about the people in my life, and I know that some of them are just genuinely inspiring for all sorts of reasons. D takes the cake this year... I don't think I know of anyone so willing to put herself out there and approach someone in this manner and do something so selfless and simple. And maybe it's somewhat selfish (since she and I both felt great about it afterwards), and maybe it's not going to solve the world's malaise, but it was something. And if there were more somethings, then, well, you never know.
So I sit here and smile, knowing that even though I'm dealing with a mess of crap, there are other things out there... other lives that are suffering... and if I'm able to lend a hand here or there, then I should. I walked up to my house tonight looking at the deep blue-black sky dotted with stars and semi-concealed in non-commital clouds, and I know that there are things to smile about everywhere.
T
Monday, December 15, 2008
Christmas-y time in the city
The countdown has really started for most people. I realize that for some, it started months ago, but I'm one of those types who only likes to indulge in the seasonal reverie when the holiday is actually in sight. Now that we're at ten days left, I believe that it's time to get into things.
This is the first Christmas season that I won't see Alberta at all. Since K and I got married, we've been splitting the holiday week between our families. I haven't minded this (beyond the initial guilt-tripping and sense of frustration felt among family members), but we were still in southern Alberta all the same. This year, due to new work commitments, I couldn't arrange to receive time off so on the Island I remain. I am disappointed that I won't be able to spend the holidays with my immediate family (and with K's family), but since I was able to see my parents, grandparents and siblings at Thanksgiving, I feel as though I can survive until February (when I'm hopefully going to be able to fly out for a visit).
I won't be totally family-less though... my aunt and uncle and cousin will be hosting Christmas dinner and my other cousin will be flying out from Halifax with her fiancee to spend a week out here as well. And I also have numerous friends who have already invited me over, so I may do a bit of house-hopping over the few days-off I have to say hellp to my friends and their families.
As a way of celebrating the Christmas spirit, I'm trying organize a night of carolling with the people I know from Victoria. I thought it would be a tonne of fun to get a bunch of us together to sing Christmas songs and embrace cheesy Christmas sweaters in order to show that we're thankful and just have a fun wintery night out. I'm going to try to contact the local food bank to see if we can incorporate a food/money drive at the same time. I've had a few "no"s and a few "maybe"s, but not a lot of definite commitments. Although I'm a bit disappointed so far, I know that people are crazy busy... there's so much to do and since most people don't get much time off around this time of year, they have a million errands they need to run and a finite amount of time to pull them off. So, I'm hoping that if I can get at least 6 or 7, that'll be a success in itself, and we'll just have to belt things out a little louder than we would with 10 or 15!
And just in case it wasn't feeling like Christmas just a few short days ago, the sky dropped a few inches of snow on us over the weekend, causing the fair-weather islanders to drive 20km/hr or find their cars in the ditch. This type of cold-weather driving doesn't bother me, but I sure wouldn't be going out of my way to battle the Malahat right now. And we even have sunshine to accompany the crisp whiteness. Who says that it's grey and miserable over the winter here??? :) "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."
T
This is the first Christmas season that I won't see Alberta at all. Since K and I got married, we've been splitting the holiday week between our families. I haven't minded this (beyond the initial guilt-tripping and sense of frustration felt among family members), but we were still in southern Alberta all the same. This year, due to new work commitments, I couldn't arrange to receive time off so on the Island I remain. I am disappointed that I won't be able to spend the holidays with my immediate family (and with K's family), but since I was able to see my parents, grandparents and siblings at Thanksgiving, I feel as though I can survive until February (when I'm hopefully going to be able to fly out for a visit).
I won't be totally family-less though... my aunt and uncle and cousin will be hosting Christmas dinner and my other cousin will be flying out from Halifax with her fiancee to spend a week out here as well. And I also have numerous friends who have already invited me over, so I may do a bit of house-hopping over the few days-off I have to say hellp to my friends and their families.
As a way of celebrating the Christmas spirit, I'm trying organize a night of carolling with the people I know from Victoria. I thought it would be a tonne of fun to get a bunch of us together to sing Christmas songs and embrace cheesy Christmas sweaters in order to show that we're thankful and just have a fun wintery night out. I'm going to try to contact the local food bank to see if we can incorporate a food/money drive at the same time. I've had a few "no"s and a few "maybe"s, but not a lot of definite commitments. Although I'm a bit disappointed so far, I know that people are crazy busy... there's so much to do and since most people don't get much time off around this time of year, they have a million errands they need to run and a finite amount of time to pull them off. So, I'm hoping that if I can get at least 6 or 7, that'll be a success in itself, and we'll just have to belt things out a little louder than we would with 10 or 15!
And just in case it wasn't feeling like Christmas just a few short days ago, the sky dropped a few inches of snow on us over the weekend, causing the fair-weather islanders to drive 20km/hr or find their cars in the ditch. This type of cold-weather driving doesn't bother me, but I sure wouldn't be going out of my way to battle the Malahat right now. And we even have sunshine to accompany the crisp whiteness. Who says that it's grey and miserable over the winter here??? :) "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..."
T
Monday, December 01, 2008
Words penned in the dark
I take only a few moments near the darkened winter coast
Yet it's all I really need to refresh quiet moments in my mind.
The quiet, dark walk helps ease my soul, even when I feel like I'm on fire.
I travel back to moments in my mind where you and I walked quietly together.
I never will remember all the days we've spent just wasting away the time,
Pretending real life will come soon enough even as it's wildly by our side.
But I have enough moments and minutes, like photos on the wall,
That I see every chance I get when I wish upon my memory.
You find these clouds depressing, saying it's cold and they hide the sky
But its these clouds that help December stay warm and light up the city night.
You tell me that you're just not sure, and that you're really, truly trying...
But I'm the one walking these streets alone, wondering, wishing, crying.
Why am I feeling like I'm the one who's lost, who's gone, who's dying?
T
Yet it's all I really need to refresh quiet moments in my mind.
The quiet, dark walk helps ease my soul, even when I feel like I'm on fire.
I travel back to moments in my mind where you and I walked quietly together.
I never will remember all the days we've spent just wasting away the time,
Pretending real life will come soon enough even as it's wildly by our side.
But I have enough moments and minutes, like photos on the wall,
That I see every chance I get when I wish upon my memory.
You find these clouds depressing, saying it's cold and they hide the sky
But its these clouds that help December stay warm and light up the city night.
You tell me that you're just not sure, and that you're really, truly trying...
But I'm the one walking these streets alone, wondering, wishing, crying.
Why am I feeling like I'm the one who's lost, who's gone, who's dying?
T
Monday, November 24, 2008
A few honest things
About me:
I'm quite confident about the person I am most of the time... however, when I'm in new settings (a new job, a new surrounding, a new group of friends), I become uncertain of how to act and resort to being either very quiet or overly chatty and sarcastic. Although I'm a sarcastic person and am very talkative, I definitely overdo it in these situations and put off an annoying vibe. Physically speaking, though, I'm very insecure... I'm always wondering what other people see when they see me, and even though I'm healthy and not wholly unattractive, I definitely don't think I'm all that much to look at.
I keep a lot of people at a distance, especially at work. I act a certain way and let people into my world on a limited basis, and at work, there are rarely those who inhabit my inner circle. For me, work is work and my life is something else. Now, I don't want to be misunderstood... I very much enjoy the people that I work with (most of the time), but being who I am, I don't generally pursue close friendships with workmates. Few make the transition from co-worker to someone I'd consider a friend, and there's really few who I'd consider close friends in my life. Those who I do consider close generally receive semi-regular contact from me and I try to touch base with them in person as often as possible. Typically it takes at least a couple of times out for coffee or beer to shift from acquaintance to friend for me.
I can be extremely anal about certain organizational facets of my life, but am a bit messy in my home... I pile clothes up around the house and am not bothered by general untidyness. A dirty house is one thing that I don't like, but having things askew doesn't irk too much at home. I guess I grew up in a world of chaos when looking at this very thing (for any of you with a mother who does crafts and has some pack-rat tendancies, you likely understand what I'm talking about), so I'm typically not bothered about strewn clothing or messily piled papers.
I'm lucky in many parts of my world. I have an amazing family, some absolutely wonderful friends, and I think I have a good appreciation for life in general. I've had to deal with some crap in my life, but I've been able to find a lot of good out there, even when I'm in pain. When I'm out running or hiking, I'm always trying to take in the scenery and really embrace what's there. I love making children smile and making people laugh and have a good time. I like knowing that people respect the job I do. I like knowing that I've changed someone's life for the better. I know I'm not wholly altruistic, but I try to be good and do good things as often as possible.
I'm one of those people who is often taken advantage of... I always want to do things that will make other people happy (since I get enjoyment out of this). And I hate getting in confrontations and would rather just do something myself or figure out a way to solve something myself rather than cause a rift or make something uncomfortable. In essence, I'm a bit of a pushover. I will stick to my guns when something is important, but if I'm indifferent, I generally do something for someone else before taking care of myself. I sometimes wonder if it's this very thing that has contributed to my independent, island-located state at this point in life.
Even though I'll do everything in my power to do the right thing, I don't put my all into a lot of things. I'm generally not a focussed person in the sense that I forget things easily and often go through spurts where I'm intensely interested in something, only to forget it soon after. As far as work goes, I figure out how to do everything decently well, but I never push myself to excell. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I'm a bit flighty with things... I don't know. I guess it's often the fact that I know I'll be moving on, so why bother. I think the only thing I invested myself completely in was, well... her.
Enough self-indulgent sharing for the night. Sleep calls.
T
I'm quite confident about the person I am most of the time... however, when I'm in new settings (a new job, a new surrounding, a new group of friends), I become uncertain of how to act and resort to being either very quiet or overly chatty and sarcastic. Although I'm a sarcastic person and am very talkative, I definitely overdo it in these situations and put off an annoying vibe. Physically speaking, though, I'm very insecure... I'm always wondering what other people see when they see me, and even though I'm healthy and not wholly unattractive, I definitely don't think I'm all that much to look at.
I keep a lot of people at a distance, especially at work. I act a certain way and let people into my world on a limited basis, and at work, there are rarely those who inhabit my inner circle. For me, work is work and my life is something else. Now, I don't want to be misunderstood... I very much enjoy the people that I work with (most of the time), but being who I am, I don't generally pursue close friendships with workmates. Few make the transition from co-worker to someone I'd consider a friend, and there's really few who I'd consider close friends in my life. Those who I do consider close generally receive semi-regular contact from me and I try to touch base with them in person as often as possible. Typically it takes at least a couple of times out for coffee or beer to shift from acquaintance to friend for me.
I can be extremely anal about certain organizational facets of my life, but am a bit messy in my home... I pile clothes up around the house and am not bothered by general untidyness. A dirty house is one thing that I don't like, but having things askew doesn't irk too much at home. I guess I grew up in a world of chaos when looking at this very thing (for any of you with a mother who does crafts and has some pack-rat tendancies, you likely understand what I'm talking about), so I'm typically not bothered about strewn clothing or messily piled papers.
I'm lucky in many parts of my world. I have an amazing family, some absolutely wonderful friends, and I think I have a good appreciation for life in general. I've had to deal with some crap in my life, but I've been able to find a lot of good out there, even when I'm in pain. When I'm out running or hiking, I'm always trying to take in the scenery and really embrace what's there. I love making children smile and making people laugh and have a good time. I like knowing that people respect the job I do. I like knowing that I've changed someone's life for the better. I know I'm not wholly altruistic, but I try to be good and do good things as often as possible.
I'm one of those people who is often taken advantage of... I always want to do things that will make other people happy (since I get enjoyment out of this). And I hate getting in confrontations and would rather just do something myself or figure out a way to solve something myself rather than cause a rift or make something uncomfortable. In essence, I'm a bit of a pushover. I will stick to my guns when something is important, but if I'm indifferent, I generally do something for someone else before taking care of myself. I sometimes wonder if it's this very thing that has contributed to my independent, island-located state at this point in life.
Even though I'll do everything in my power to do the right thing, I don't put my all into a lot of things. I'm generally not a focussed person in the sense that I forget things easily and often go through spurts where I'm intensely interested in something, only to forget it soon after. As far as work goes, I figure out how to do everything decently well, but I never push myself to excell. Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I'm a bit flighty with things... I don't know. I guess it's often the fact that I know I'll be moving on, so why bother. I think the only thing I invested myself completely in was, well... her.
Enough self-indulgent sharing for the night. Sleep calls.
T
Saturday, November 22, 2008
What a morning
I went to bed a little later than I expected last night... after a meal with the housemates, I went to have a beer and play taxi for my cousin, who had spent his night drinking rum and playing Guitar Hero with friends. After dropping him off, I was contemplating whether or not I'd make it out for a run in the morning... I'd found a running group that apparently met every Saturday morning at Thetis Lake Park, and since I haven't done any trail running since being back home on the mainland, I was getting the itch. However, the last few days have seen some really uncertain whether, and with wind/rain warnings in effect yesterday, I thought I might just sleep in.
As I woke up this morning, I looked out the window and noticed some blue sky. There wasn't any rain and the sky looked like it was going to cooperate. So I grabbed my gear and met the club out by the lake this morning at 8am.
What an unbelievably beautiful run. The sun came out and cut through the trees. The rain stayed away and the trails were pleasantly moist. They were a bit slick in some places (due to the high presence of rocky sections), but it was an absolutely spectacular run. I kept with the slower group for the first part of the run, then scooted up and joined the quicker group during a break. I finished off with a tempo run, led by one of the running club's regulars, and was ACTUALLY steaming upon completion. STEAMING! It was pretty much perfect, and I was able to enjoy scenery that looked like this:
As I woke up this morning, I looked out the window and noticed some blue sky. There wasn't any rain and the sky looked like it was going to cooperate. So I grabbed my gear and met the club out by the lake this morning at 8am.
What an unbelievably beautiful run. The sun came out and cut through the trees. The rain stayed away and the trails were pleasantly moist. They were a bit slick in some places (due to the high presence of rocky sections), but it was an absolutely spectacular run. I kept with the slower group for the first part of the run, then scooted up and joined the quicker group during a break. I finished off with a tempo run, led by one of the running club's regulars, and was ACTUALLY steaming upon completion. STEAMING! It was pretty much perfect, and I was able to enjoy scenery that looked like this:
The trail was covered in fall foliage, and the intense smell of leaf rot mixed with earthy moss was everywhere. Afterwards, I met some friends who just arrived from out of town for breakfast at a local diner, and just arrived home to shower and do some laundry before heading to work.
With everything that life has thrown at me this year, there are still some pretty wonderful sunshiney moments to dwell in... sometimes you just have to be ambitious enough to strap on your shoes and take to the trail.
T
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Mornings unlike November
The fog was rich last night... so thick you could almost pull it into your mouth and squeeze the juice out with your tongue. It was a night for ghosts, for spirits, and for the lonely. It was as if you could get lost without taking a step, but it's very presence was ephemeral, fleeting. Each moment I tried to take it in my arms, it was gone like breath.
The fog's transitory nature showed it's face today (or, by very definition, did not show it's face today), and I woke up to a sky of sunshine beating back the clouds... clouds wanting to share their load with the city in form of fairyland tears. This autumn on the coast has been anything but autumn-like. Days of sunshine and warmth have punctuated the typical and continual gray that generally hangs over the island at this time of year. The ocean's storm season will soon be here, where the winds will force the waters to crash upon the shores and drench those people unlucky enough to be running down a peninuslar boardwalk or get caught upon a marina dock. The sea during this stormy time is not patient, and will not politely wait until the area is clear.
A memory... reading a book by Douglas Coupland... story's scene presents a seagull standing on top of a heap that used to be a building. The building had been bombed and was now just a pile of rubble. The comment? Some along the lines of... "Even though we can clearly see the destruction, to the bird, it's just... the world." ( I know I butchered it, but the sentiment of the quote remains, I think).
Throughout literature, the weather has been personified in various ways, and has been used as a metaphor for countless things... a person's luck, the state of society, crime and punishment in our human world. So I guess the weather is acting as my own metaphor... the sun trying to shine through when I know it's supposed to be raining. Since moving to the coast in the first place, I've always said that I've always only needed a day or two of sunshine during these dark months to get me through to the cyclical rebirth of life in spring. I guess, too, the same goes for my personal life... as long as I can catch a glimpse of the metaphorical sunshine and find some reasons to hope, I'll be able to walk on.
Thus, since the sun is my cue... on I walk.
T
The fog's transitory nature showed it's face today (or, by very definition, did not show it's face today), and I woke up to a sky of sunshine beating back the clouds... clouds wanting to share their load with the city in form of fairyland tears. This autumn on the coast has been anything but autumn-like. Days of sunshine and warmth have punctuated the typical and continual gray that generally hangs over the island at this time of year. The ocean's storm season will soon be here, where the winds will force the waters to crash upon the shores and drench those people unlucky enough to be running down a peninuslar boardwalk or get caught upon a marina dock. The sea during this stormy time is not patient, and will not politely wait until the area is clear.
A memory... reading a book by Douglas Coupland... story's scene presents a seagull standing on top of a heap that used to be a building. The building had been bombed and was now just a pile of rubble. The comment? Some along the lines of... "Even though we can clearly see the destruction, to the bird, it's just... the world." ( I know I butchered it, but the sentiment of the quote remains, I think).
Throughout literature, the weather has been personified in various ways, and has been used as a metaphor for countless things... a person's luck, the state of society, crime and punishment in our human world. So I guess the weather is acting as my own metaphor... the sun trying to shine through when I know it's supposed to be raining. Since moving to the coast in the first place, I've always said that I've always only needed a day or two of sunshine during these dark months to get me through to the cyclical rebirth of life in spring. I guess, too, the same goes for my personal life... as long as I can catch a glimpse of the metaphorical sunshine and find some reasons to hope, I'll be able to walk on.
Thus, since the sun is my cue... on I walk.
T
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