Dark Mornings

There is officially no sun when I go out in the morning. So here is a list of my favourite Beatles songs:

Got to Get You Into My Life

I Feel Fine

In My Life

Across the Universe

Something

Strawberry Fields Forever

Day Tripper

All You Need is Love

I've Just Seen a Face

Norwegian Wood

Helter Skelter

Don't Let Me Down

Moses Parts the Red Sea

Are you familiar with the story of Moses leading the Chosen People out of slavery in Egypt. Maybe you heard it in Sunday school are saw the classic movie "The Ten Commandments." There's a classic moment when the Israelites are being pursued by Pharaoh's army and come up against the Red Sea. At G-d's command, Moses raises his staff and parts the waters, allowing the Israelites to cross safely on dry land. Of course when the Egyptian army ruthlessly follows, the walls of water release and all are killed. Victory!
What I learned today was this: the Egyptian army had decided to leave the Israelites be. G-d had been muddling with them, knocking wheels off their chariots and such, and they decided,"Let's get away from the Israelites! The LORD is fighting for them against Egypt."and retreated. That's right. The Israelites were safe. The army was retreating. And God shot them in the back. I don't know what I find more disturbing, this neglected facet of the story, or that no one else listening to the story seemed disturbed by it.

Ghost

Today, Facebook had a strange suggestion for me; the suggestion that I say hello to an old friend, a friend who has now passed on. It was eerie. For the longest time, there was a lingering lack of finality as the friend request I sent just before he died was never answered. That moment, the uncanny moment when I thought perhaps we had all been mistaken, that somehow that faint hope that settles around the edges of rationality when someone just disappears...
He didn't just swim back from the ocean, of course. Of course. Someone was just updating his Facebook page, of course. But to see the life there, the writing on his wall, as people continue to remember, and post messages to and about him, sharing pictures and stories.
I watched a video of him and felt sad.

Outskirts

As I biked to the edge of the the city yesterday, I realized just how different this city is from Vancouver. The edge of the city. No mountains, no ocean, not another city. Civilization just tapered off. Gradually, the homes and stores and parking lots became interspersed with fields, butterflies, slews, groves of trees and the steady background noise - not quite a chirp, not quite a hum - of the prairies. I could try and define why I found it so comforting, but I suppose it's just the nature of nature. What I found most comforting was the I, and other people, could still find places like this.

Ordinary

It's a little amazing (or is it?) that this transition to a new living situation has descended into banality so quickly. Has life become routine already, or is my buffer of extreme pragmatism sheltering me from the emotional reality of my situation?
Like I've said, Vancouver was a bit of a dream; easy access to beautiful beaches, private DJ parties, bike routes galore and organic produce just blocks away. And boobs. Oh yes, there were boobs.
And now it's a different life; potlucks and strategy games and re-runs of Entourage. My new simple pleasures. Whenever I balk that I must once again borrow Mom's car, I remember the times I had to borrow from Visa to pay rent and welcome my new path of practicality. And take joy in my new simple pleasures.

The In-Between Time

I hate waiting. That's all I seem to be doing these days; waiting for school to start, waiting for my resumes to bring job interviews, waiting for interviews to bring a job, waiting for paperwork to come through so I can finish student loan applications. Waiting.
It's times like these I realize how much I am often ruled by my emotions. While there is a good chance things will work out it the end, the niggling uncertainty hiding in all these situations is adding up to one big seething ball of doubt. What if? What if? What if? Some burdens can be dispelled with some deep breathing, a cup of tea and a Rumi poem, but I may just have to slug my way through this bundle of shadows. But what, how, when, why - I am headless.
I made a list. Jotted a little checklist of things I could do. This blog was one of them. As far as things I could do to ensure my future security go, it's fairly minor. But it's something. A little ferret pulled from the churning pile of vermin hiding somewhere between my hope and my cockles. Later, I can mow the lawn.
So this is it. A slight easing, some minor progress, a bit of forward momentum. One minute at at time. Lord. One minute at a time.

Transitions

Moving back to the prairies is a lot like slipping into a cozy old sweater. It's comfortable and familiar and stretched out and misshapen in all the places you stretched out and misshaped over the years and it fits like only a cozy old sweater can fit.
Except somehow I was under the illusion that, I dunno, maybe I'd gotten taller since I last wore it, or my arms were a lot longer, or maybe I just wasn't a sweater person anymore. Maybe I thought it would always be summer and no one would wear sweaters ever again.
I've always disliked the name "Lotus Land." It's like a nickname someone chooses for himself and is the only one to actual use it. But yeah, the last six years were like an opium dream, sensual, magical, hazy and indulgent. I saw more boobs in an average month than in three years back home. Even in winter. It was easy to forget that it was a real city with real-world requirements. Opportunities floated by with such frequency it was hard to choose which ones to hold on to. The more dreams became real, the less dream-like they became, the more they started looking like a heck of a lot of work, and the more tempting it became to roll over and go back to sleep, wait for a new dream.
It has been a long time since I've had anything resembling structure in my life. This current period of transition is pretty much just a variation on a continuing theme. Maybe it's me or maybe it's the curse of modern life. Maybe it's the life longed for by those locked into regular, regimented routines, slowly stifling under strict schedules. Maybe I don't know how good I've got it.
Oh I've had fun. I drank deep of the Lotus' Nectar. And I'm having fun now. There's no friend like an old friend and this city is filled with old friends. Here I am, living in a comfortable home in a comfortable city and still able to reach into the dream world and play with the faeries in the Land of Nod (translation: I can live here and still keep in touch with my friends on the coast through email and such). Soon I will have no time for existential crises, so now is as good a time as any to have one.

If you want to send pictures of your boobs, it would help a lot.
keen.nietzsche@gmail.com