Wednesday, July 30, 2014

6AM Reflections

In the final two years I lived in my hometown before moving to Toronto, I worked two jobs. One of them was doing early morning and weekend shifts at the convenience store up the street from my mother's house. The early morning part, however, didn't last that entire duration, despite my boss' good intentions, as it became apparent that the only signs of life in the store at 6AM were me, my Thelonious Monk cassette, and maybe the milkman. Oh, and this. It seemed every morning at a certain time, a squirrel would run down the telephone pole by the curb, and a bird would always stop and look into the glass of the front door. Always thought it was quite touching to observe patterns of nature such as these, which would have gone unnoticed otherwise. Was an even greater experience if it was scored with the opening flute part of Monk's "Reflections".

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

A Moment of Zen

One day in the summer of 2007, after I had driven my father to and from his sister's funeral in London, Ontario (because the poor man's back was hurting too much for him to drive himself), I started thinking about the past, as one often does in times like this, and took a drive around Norfolk County to pass by old haunts on my way back to the big bad city of Toronto. As dusk emerged, I had found myself on the four corners of Main St. in Delhi, beside the law enforcement office where my dad worked until he retired. This location was special to me due to the memories had at the Delhi Harvest Fest, which occurs every year on Main Street, right outside the office's front door. Sometimes too, we'd hang out in the office before or after the festival each year. On this 2007 night while I was sitting in the rental car reminiscing, as the sun nestled behind the trees, and the buildings were silhouetted by the magenta sky, there wasn't another soul on the street. The only sounds came from the car radio- Tillsonburg's easy listening station 101 FM, chosen because this was what my dad would always have playing in the office and his jeep (and for all I know, they were probably playing the same Frank Mills songs). Then as now, I was moved by this mixture of image and sound: the world seemed at peace. We easily forget how much deceptively simple moments like this mean to us, and for that matter, we easily ignore the beauty of such daily rhythms of nature, because we're too caught up in our own routines. Lately, during many times of stress, my subconscious mind has suddenly recalled this image, and with it, that feeling of peace I had at that moment. It is this image (and all it implies) that I need to have more of in my life right now.