Rain. Advent. Reflect.

I am afraid I have missed so much by failing to reflect.

So much has happened, and so much I have forgotten.

I regret it fairly intensely, but am aware that regret is regressive.

Therefore, I resolve to reflect for the present, and for the future.

Presently it is raining. There is a mixture of tempos, which come together to make a sort of woven rainy sound. Some drops falling fat and fast, some falling like mist, even and gradual. Altogether it is a sound I love. A sound that brings me home.

Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent. I have great hope for a bustling and meaningful season. I am just starting to understand the benefit of expectation. Of how expectations shape our persons. So this year I am going to focus on expecting Jesus. To wait for him.

A Perfect Moment

Its a quintessentially perfect fall day. Chilly gentle breeze mixes with warm sun like the old fashioned sink at Aunty Barb's cottage... one hot tap and one cold tap... perfect tension.

If I close my eyes the seagulls transform the steady sounds of traffic into steady waves, rolling and rolling up the steps at Robson Square. The wind softly wafts up from the water on my face. Sounds are amplified ... pieces of conversations, laughter, footsteps and shopping carts. Muffled shouts from Occupy Vancouver make their way over the art gallery in front of me.

I really could stay here for some time. But I have to pee.

Snapshot and Observation

Sitting in a coffee house after midnight.

A business man is laughing to himself and his laptop, with speakers turned just below that point of annoying, but past the point of caring that we can all hear what he’s listening to.

A middle-aged man is sleeping on his chest, a cursory coffee cooling on the table in front. He is wearing madras.

A couple of actors sit beside me discussing their career prospects, comparing notes.

An older couple stands in the rain sharing a post-coffee cigarette.

A starving student type is camping in the corner. He keeps looking over his shoulder, surveying the rest of us, like he’s hoping to meet someone special tonight, and will draw attention with his lingering gaze.

The barista leans heavily over the counter, lazily clicking out a text message.

Meanwhile Bob Marley wails over us, as young women clickity clack down the street.

Now a man with a loud voice walks in, but promises he won’t talk in here, because his voice carries. But he can’t help it, and she won’t mind. No, she won’t mind…

True to his word, once she pours the coffee, and his change has jingled in the "thanks a latte for the tipuccino" bowl, he doesn't say a word.

Things I think about in the shower.

Today I pretended I was blind, just to see if I could do it. While I didn't manage for any admirable length of time, I thought some interesting thoughts during the 5 minutes I lasted...

The first thing that came to mind was about what I would wear. Is that vain? If I was blind, I would theoretically receive no pleasure from clothing aside from comfort. But would I still care about style? Would I care for me, or would it just be vanity? "Oh there goes that blind girl in the pink sweatpants and flannel shirt again," people would comment as I passed, oblivious to my heightened audio senses.

I imagined taking my fiance to a class of some sort so he could learn about make-up, and I would have him put make up on for me. Just so I wouldn't have to wonder whether my skin was dull or my eyes tired. He'd do it for a while, but would it get old? Or would he have undying patience and care? The kind of patience that would make me write a book about him when are old.

How independent would I be? Would I rise to the occasion, becoming street smart and savvy? Or become despondent and dependent. Shudder! What would happen when a solicitor came to the door? Or I had to take a taxi from the house. Would I trust strangers? Or be skeptical, suspicious, even paranoid?

What would my new hobbies be? How long would it take to read things! Is braille faster than eye reading? Ahhh! What do blind people do for internet? How many websites can be translated into voice?! And what about all the pictures??! Goodbye photography, and design and painting and sketching. What would I take up in their place?

Life's an adventure.

duclos

Oh! So, I've been steeped in history today (drinking lots of tea, reading lots of essays and reports on early contact between French and North American indigenous people) and I was thinking about changing the spelling of my last name back to the original French spelling. Naturally, I wanted to see how common it was, so I googled it, and I found this great photographer. Here is my favourite picture. He's French. Maybe we're related.

... supposed to be sleeping ...

On Friday night on the way to some def metal show at the bourbon (what is def metal, by the way?), my friend was talking about how he likes to "master" things. I was annoyed, because he is one of those annoying people who actually is good at everything. Music to math to making people laugh to just being honest.

Some people might find that kind of friend inspiring, and I guess sometimes I do. I just need to put him in the right light. In the wrong light, I get annoyed at him because he is good at things that I want to be good at, but am afraid that I can't be good.

Peter Senge puts him in the right light. I like Peter Senge, because one of my very favourite teachers recommended his book, so I am predisposed to think well of what he writes. He happened to say almost the very same thing that my friend did (only in more academic tones), so now I am less annoyed and more inspired. Thanks Peter. Thanks teacher. Thanks friend.

"People with a high level of personal mastery are able to consistently realize the results that matter most deeply to them. ... The discipline of personal mastery starts with clarifying the things that really matter to us, of living our lives in the service of our highest aspirations."

On another more hyper note, I googled myself today and found out that you can know a lot about me from google. Some people, you get nothin'. No juice! No dirt! For me, you don't really get juice or dirt, but there are blogs with mentions of my photography in them! Okay, just three, and they're over a year old, but still! Makes me want to quit my job and become an internet phenomenon.

every day is saturday night

it is a lot less fun pretending I am reposing and relishing in being a single, boring, home alone student on a saturday night when my roommate is home to know about it. these are the things i like to keep secret until some future saturday night when i have convinced myself i am not a boring, home alone student on a saturday night. that's the kind of saturday night i'll tell everyone about a saturday night like tonight and they will all think i am so confident and independent.
consequently, because i was a student aaaaaalllllll day, i did learn a new word today, which makes me a little less boring.