A jaunt about downtown

Last weekend, a wonderful friend who was also one of my housemates in first year landed in Toronto, making her big (Ontario) city debut in this our Ontario capital. It was truly delightful to spend time with her, and although a good chunk of our weekend was spent at a conference, we hung out all day Sunday and had a grand time.

Included in our ventures to downtown Toronto - I tell you, the transit system was pretty muddling- were scaling the CN Tower (by means of the elevator, that is), photos in front of the Hockey Hall of Fame, and a visit to the illustrious Royal Ontario Museum to check out the Dead Sea Scrolls special exhibit.

Sharlene and I in the skypod (or one of the levels, anyway)

It's been nearly 4 years since we saw each other, I think, and it was great to reconnect and catch up on all things Albertan/ western. Love ya, Shar!

One day this week I had to check on something outside in the driveway so ran outside quickly only to be struck by this incredible view.

Unfortunately, I couldn't capture it with my cameral lens so you can't get the full view, but this rainbow stretched clean across the sky in a perfect arc. I was awestruck. For a while I just stood there, gazing into the sky while rain spattered into my nose and eyes.

What a poignant reminder of God's faithfulness in the midst of the hard times and the torrents that threaten to sweep us away some days.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what my blog is trying to say. I have been challenged, in reading other blogs, to find a theme or goal with these ramblings. As of yet, I have not found one, but it's in process.

So I've been thinking quite a bit about what I have been saying all this time. The trouble is, it's the things I'm not saying that keep poking to the surface. Things like how I miss my friends out west from school so much and wish I had made more of an effort to stay a part of their lives, and to keep them in my life. How some days, regret threatens to swallow up whatever else I think I'm accomplishing. How I fear throwing myself really some creative venture because what if there is nothing there, my mind is empty and my hands won't follow through. Oh, and let's not forget that I feel like I have been slogging through and waiting for my life to start when really there's a life to be lived and somewhat it seems like I'm missing the point most of the time.

Life. Isn't that something everyone struggles with, or maybe some of us- that we miss out on our own life in waiting for the pieces to fall into place. We turn into spectators of the unrolling of our own story, without even knowing how it happened.

Sure, by all appearances, I keep myself busy enough, involved with this or that, many good pursuits, some of which will help me answer some of the questions I ask myself about the major decisions. But some days, it all feels like a bit of a joke that I'm not getting.

I'm not totally certain why I have this compulsion to share this with the few readers I've told about this blog. I know I've said that before. Is it the idea or hope that what I have to say matters? Some insatiable need for self-disclosure? That someone does read what I write, so that if I get published one day in some capacity, I'll have that validation? I suppose that is one of those ongoing questions that is more for my own contemplation than for your reading pleasure, but there- I've gone and blurred the lines again.

So thank you for bearing with me as I wrest something out of these questions.

So. How to summarize my life as of late.
Sprained my ankle. Became gainfully employed in a second capacity. Discovered PC brand creme brulee. Engaged in some rather cathartic housecleaning.
Hmm, this is starting to sound something like Bridget Jones' diary. Don't be deceived, however; there is no Mr. Darcy in argyle socks in this story at the moment. Or perhaps I'm mixing up plot lines a little. It doesn't matter.
The thing is, I'm starting to see life as a series of disjointed events and circumstances rather than a progression of meaningful events with some huge cosmic explanation. A little part of me died when I wrote that, or when I realized it, because I am a dreamer at heart. I like to think that there's some hidden meaning to things I don't understand, because that's how I can cope and also keep dreaming. I don't think it's bad to be a dreamer, but one can't live one's whole life on a cloud. After all, a cloud is only made up of water particles, which won't hold up the weight of most people.
Really, what I'm getting out of this, is how dreary this blog is becoming at this rate. Oy. I'd better stir up some excitement to have fascinating things to write about.
Laters.

Slowing down the pace of life

-It's never easy for me. That, and asking for help.

Funny that in this last week, I should have to do both, and through this experience, learn these lessons again (and again, and again)...

Last Tuesday, I sprained my ankle. I've done this before, to the same ankle, but this time it highlighted again how I value my independence, and when this is compromised, my reactions can be quite un-lovely.

I don't want to bore you with the whole story; I sometimes forget only other runners seem to enjoy rehashing one another's injuries, but I'll give you the short version:

Jumped off the porch step with heavy groceries, turned my ankle and dropped to the ground, unable to walk. Wallowed about on the ground for a minute, then two strangers saw me and helped me to my house, even carrying me up my stairs. Ended up going to urgent care after getting a hold of a friend to pick me up. After being around flu-y people for a while and getting x-rays, consulted with my resident doctor friend and decided it wasn't worth staying 4 hours in Emergency for just a minor sprain. Went home.

The thing is, I hated having to call this friend. I would rather have walked there in my extremely slow shuffle than pick up that phone; it was painful. Why is that? I've made it so difficult to ask for help, or accept it when I do have to ask for it. Sure, I enjoy people giving me rides and things like that- but on my terms. There have been times I've nearly taken the bus anyway when people offer me a ride, just because I'm stubborn. Seriously, what is that about.

I effusively thanked my friend for coming with me to the point I started sounding silly. It's still difficult for me to reconcile that this person went out of their way because I called them and because they are kind. Yet, other times, I accept that people make these kind of sacrifices, without giving it a second thought. Why is that?

The second result of this sprain is a loss of independence. Granted, it's a minor one; I can still get around fine so my mobility has returned. It's the other things: I can't go for a run when I want to, or play soccer. Our second game was Saturday and I can't play for awhile yet.

It's not easy to readjust when things go otherwise than planned. If I can't handle this small situation with grace, how do I react when things are actually wrong in my life?

Slowing down and ensuring that my schedule is not too packed for me to actually function properly is never easy for me. I like to have plans, to have an active social life, to involve myself in various activities. Coupling this with a people-pleasing personality can be a disaster at times. This sprain, however minor, is forcing me to reevaluate my priorities. When it takes a little longer to get somewhere, is it necessary to go; that kind of thing. I'm hoping it will encourage me to use better time management as well.

I just wanted to share this, as it's a continual process from which I continue to learn, and, at the risk of sounding narcissistic, I think I needed to be okay to work through this and tell you about it. I hope that comes through somewhat!

*Sigh* Thanks for your patience in bearing with me, another creature in this fantastic journey!