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easy and beautiful !

Long live mature women also,

Tender and loveable and full of good labor. 

Gaudeamus Igitur

« Past and Future Merging | Main | Angst »

The Good Old Days?

Hi Sarah,

 Today I slipped into a little chapel to meditate. I was on my way to the workout club and found myself almost supernaturally guided towards the Christian bookstore that sells religious artefacts and books (next to my workout club). I'm trying to get some advertising placed in the Bel'Arte concert series program to help increase funds for the choir and figured it would be a good place to approach. Once inside, I noticed and followed the Chapel sign to the back of the store, went through a few doorways (storerooms and such) and entered a tiny peaceful room with a few rows of chairs and gold and pink stained glass windows. In slow motion I placed my keys and backpack on the carpeted floor. Instantly I began to deep breathe and found myself addressing the familial spirits I've told you about before, the ones I address most mornings in the car. I asked for intervention on behalf of people that are having a hard time and just sat there with my eyes closed for quite a while. Later at the club, my entire workout seemed almost an extension of that experience, with all the crazy churning thoughts in my head put to rest. I did not swear at any drivers on the way home and gave all idiots the right of way. 

One day while waiting for Moira, when she was running around for her art show, I found myself at Ossington and Queen (not your Lakeshore-Hildegarde kind of area) and had a chance to meditate in a different way, studying people, posters and street signs: Drugs Guns Kids, $40 Unlimited Talk and Text, Girl Dragon Tattoos and Love Hate and Propaganda. I thought of a discussion I had had with my sister about the year 2012 when the Mayan calendar will end and what the repercussions of this might be, and about the planets aligning themselves with the earth. I understand nothing of all this (as she does), but apparently our spiralling out of control, faster than ever before, is tied in with all this. 2012 will witness a convergence of some sort. I think back to my grandparents who had their hot meal each day at noon. They'd sit down to potatoes grown without chemicals, green beans from the 'vegetable farmer' whose shop was just around the corner and a lovely juicy piece of roast beef with jus to die for. And who ever thought of antibiotics or growth hormones then. Organic wasn't invented yet. They'd top the meal off with a chunky homemade applesauce made from apples whose skins weren't spotted with a dried white powdery residue (marks we try so hard to wash off). After the meal, my grandmother would take off her apron and they'd sit by the radio and listen to an afternoon program of words and wit accompanied by a civilized bourbon and my grandfather always smoked a cigar. That was their meditation. They didn't know that word either.

My point in all this? Well I'm thinking it's time to counteract all the nonsense if we want to stay sane: portable phones are worse than cell phones; milk is no good for you; chickens that are inhumanely pressed together in hen houses are not good to eat; spinach has a lot of oxalic acid and will rob your bones of calcium; walnuts are better than peanuts and watch out for fungus; parabens will cause cancer; organic is probably better than not, but not always. It depends. Help!! I'm thinking of Lewis Carroll’s The Walrus and the Carpenter, that poem about the survival of the fittest (or the smartest) and how easily our lives can become rat races. Let's hope we're at least still a long way from Soylent Green, that prophetic 70's movie. It's a scary one.

Oh dear! Did I just write another doom and gloom email? I think I got carried away. Sorry about that. But you can see that the past can't keep up with the present (the nature of progress) and as you said, I will have to leave it behind - the good with the bad. Well, Francis can be a repackaged piece of the past, vintage … back in style, to be used in a new way. Ha! Ha!

I have not come across Lindas and Annes at St. Hildegarde's except for secretaries and admin.

Who are you driving home with on Monday? Are you over the angst yet with your new group? It's because teachers are actors and that's never easy. Stage fright happens with each new performance.


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