Ramblings

My nasals are congested, my eyes are droopy, here I sit, 5 rows back on the far right side of the Potter Auditorium.

Roughly 50 people sit in this class of who knows how many more than that. My professor is lecturing on "Early Leadership Theories" and the managerial grid while I sip away at my barely-warm chai tea.

Yesterday I played in the snow, something that, at my age, we don't do nearly enough of. Wholesome fun at it's finest. Wholesome fun, much like the snow parkour we did, performing summersaults, headstands and round-offs over a pile of ploughed snow. And, wholesome fun, like the snowball fight  I participated in a few weekends ago on a sunny Sunday morning on the top of a snow-blanketed meadow overlooking the rural Nova Scotian community of New Germany. 

On the walk back from the meadow to our retreat home, we found the greatest in natural skin exfoliators, the lush forest-green moss covering the bark of one of the 32 native tree species of the Acadian Forest. 

The Acadian Forest is one of six endangered forests in North America, and what a shame that is because as the snow trickled down across New Germany, I walked unaccompanied amongst the trees. With a questionable trail map, and I wandered in no definitive direction, in awe of the natural beauty. I have no recollection of time that day. It could have passed twice as fast, or it could have stopped all together, and I wouldn't have known. It didn't matter. I was in tune, at peace, with the woods.

The power of nature amazes me. Fungi has brought my mother and Zoe to Facebook friendship. They now share, with each other, their photos of eukaryotic organisms.

Photo courtesy of Abigail Claeys Odland.

This weekend was spectacular. As well as playing in the snow, I played my fair share of Boggle creating more words than I ever thought possible with a 4 by 4 grid of letters. I spent one night watching the Canucks game with a great bunch of BC folks; and here I thought that by  moving across the country, I would be consequently watching Canucks games all by my lonesome.   

On Friday I danced to the good old Celtic music of Jimmy Sweeney & Kevin Roach. The Old Triangle, I can tell you, is a hot spot for anyone over the age of 60 who has a good pair of dancing shoes. A true Nova Scotian I can now call myself, having finally danced to a fiddle and guitar. 

Then, on Saturday, I was so fortunate as to see the The Tragically Hip, touring with the Arkells. What a show! The band may have formed 11 years before I even existed, but they certainly have not lost any of their flair. Even though much of their setlist were songs from their 2012 album that I was mostly unfamiliar with, the influence of live music is ineffable. The presence of a Canadian rock band from Kingston, Ontario, even more transcendent.

Now, it's Tuesday evening. I've just returned from a sweaty and rejuvenating class of Moksha. I have returned to my day of statistical equations and economic policies. As my inspiration for the night, here is the transcript of a beautiful statement made by Vancouver high school student, Sam Harrison, to a Northern Gateway Pipeline review panel. It brought shivers down my spine when the passionate 16 year old, whom I biked to legislature with, finished off with:

This is why I’ve spent my high school career not partying and hanging out with friends, but advocating for political change because I know, even if we don’t stop this project, some day when I have kids and they look me in the eyes and ask, “What the hell were you thinking, why didn’t you do anything about this?” I know I’ll be able to look them back in the eyes with absolute confidence and say, “I’m sorry. I tried my very hardest.”

Biking 70 kilometers alongside this kid, seeing the burning passion in his eyes as he protested the pipeline on the steps of Provincial Legislature and hearing the desperation in his voice, chanting, as we approached Victoria's city centre, I know how badly this guy cares.

Now, off to bed for a sleep that will hopefully leave me with something worthy of documenting in my dream book.