all dressed up and nowhere to go.

“although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of suffering.” helen keller.

it felt good to throw off my pyjama bottoms finally yesterday and put on some jeans, the nicely faded ones. i paid extra for that faded look but they’re classic. it took me a while to decide upon what coat to use. i wanted to wear my heavy red lumber-jack shirt. it was equally classic and i hadn’t worn it for a long time, only really it was still just a bit too cold outside. i looked over my choices until i grabbed the one my buddy calls the ‘goin to church’ coat. it’s a sombre grey three-quarter-length affair that i felt struck the right note. lastly, i chose my tinted glasses and dark blue baseball cap. of course i did not actually come across another human on my walk. 

it kinda reminded me of my old parents. while they were still ‘with us’ my folks lived on the fifth floor of a building at the highest point of north toronto. there was always a wind, always. i called it ‘the howling void.’ and my main job, almost immediately upon arrival, was to take them out for lunch at their favourite restaurant. 

the two of them would huddle around their computer first to look at the weather report. they wouldn’t ask me or go onto their balcony. i doubt very much they even looked out the window. my dad always fumbled with the zipper of his heavy coat and always refused my help. mom would slowly lovingly get on her huge dark brown fur coat. several creatures had clearly sacrificed their lives for her elegant comfort, but i like to think she was grateful. 

once boots were on, hats chosen and dad had his cane, we’d walk slowly along the hall and into the elevator. we’d go down to the heated garage, to their big old car that i’d drive. dad would tell me to turn right here then left over there, he’d direct me where to park in the heated underground lot and then we’d take the elevator up into the mall. we never actually ever stepped outside. 

i’ve heard that relationships are crumbling due to the isolation. personally, i’m ok on my own, have enough food and plenty of toilet paper. some people joke about other peoples’ obsession with the stuff, but i don’t. i recall as a young lad, on a camping trip, using leaves that turned out to be poison ivy. 

i  almost took my pyjama pants off today, but really why(?) 

the dawn blessed day.

the mornings these days don’t simply dawn, they welcome us, unfold and invite us in with a greeting that’s almost an embrace. i suppose they’ve always done that. perhaps many of us have been taking the mornings, like so many other aspects of the life, for granted. not now, not these mornings.

even before first light there seems to be an awakening of new hope each time. even before one opens ones eyes there seems to be an appreciation for the grand opening about to occur. because it’s happened already within us. if we haven’t lived in the moment or understood the concept we do now, these days, these mornings.

an absolute bliss consciousness opens, unfolds, awakens, dawns: dawn, blessed day your light to show. ever bright we hope you be. every moment of peace we trust you know. every moment of time we want thee. the darkness may seem the way, until dawn, blessed day the light you show. and every moment of peace we begin to know, each hour of time we wait for thee. dawn, clearest pure light, only you can save us. dispeller of the dim bleak night, bringing dawn the life you gave us.

the mornings these days don’t simply dawn, they welcome us, unfold and invite us in with a greeting that’s almost an embrace. i suppose they’ve always done that. perhaps many of us have been taking the mornings, like so many other aspects of the life, for granted. not now, not these mornings. 

the question.

lots of folks, good folks, have been posting lots of stuff, good stuff. lots of folks have been posting good stuff, uplifting and enlightening stuff. i just wanna ask a question: have you been practicing?

it’s the question that burns in my heart and begs an answer. have you been practicing? but practicing what, you may ask? have you been practicing letting go? there’s the question. have you been practicing letting go? because that’s all that matters as far as i can tell, which may not be too damn far. but it’s all i’ve got. you’re brilliant enough to decide if it’s more than enough.

there’s no way i can sermonize, philosophize or even conjecture-ize. well i could, of course. only i don’t have religion, nirvana, kayvalya, not that i know of. i don’t even have tremendous faith. i got nothing except i been practicing. and letting go feels alright. that doesn’t hurt, doesn’t scare or make my lower half shake rattle and roll. that feels alright, more than alright as a matter of fact. there’s no way i can speak about the meaning of life or its purpose with great authority. only i’ve been practicing for a while now. and i don’t know why, but letting go feels alright. i do not know why, but that sure feels alright. so i gotta ask: have you been practicing? because sooner or later we all gotta let go.

lots of folks, good folks, are trying to help. they talk or write as though they know something and sometimes like they know a heckuva lot. sometimes they talk or write like they know it all. ok. who am i to say they do or they don’t(?) i’m just not that guy. i’m the guy asking simply: have you been practicing?

the truth unmasked.

pandemics are nasty affairs, no doubt about that. they’re disruptive, scary, freaky, even deadly. what happened to the days when all we had to deal with were good old-fashioned epidemics. i pine for those simpler times. 

that being said, i must add that there’s one aspect of pandemics: h1n1, corona or whatever, that irks me most of all. obviously i’m not into sickness, suffering and death. but, i really do not like those masks. for one thing it’s not a good look. people wearing surgical masks look uncool. and they’re uncomfortable, inconvenient and kinda scary looking. are they even legal in quebec?

i recently read an open letter written by a virologist to a local community group listing the recommended preventative measures to take. the letter, of course, strongly suggested incessant hand-washing, openning doors with your elbows, avoiding ones own face, keeping disinfectant hand-wipes available at all times. we used to call that ‘obsessive compulsive disorder.’ it turns out ocd folks were right and we’re the ones with issues. and, of course, then there are those masks. 

they say that mostly the old people are dying, and mostly old men, which is odd. because for the most part we’re already in self-quarantine. and i suspect others take great solace in knowing they’ll probably survive. of course, people already with underlying health problems may not feel so relaxed. but, maybe this is some sort of naturally-occurring form of eugenics, a way to slow down over-population, the creative intelligence saving the planet from climate change. 

whatever may be the case, as far as i’m concerned if the choice ends up being death or the wearing of a mask at all times, well, i’ll have to think about it for a bit. anyway, they’re no longer available and my papers are in order. 

how was your day?

last sunday morning looked awfully like the perfect day for a walk in the city. it was a lovely, relatively mild winter day and most of the city folks seemed to have come out here. as it turned out i wasn’t entirely right.

i walked around the byward market, had a great coffee at ‘planet coffee’ before heading in to ‘the rideau centre’. what could possibly go wrong? i simply wanted to check out the price of a certain iphone. once i happily wandered into the ‘apple store’ i soon found exactly what i was looking for: the new ‘iphone 11 max pro’, the holy grail of iphones, until the next. and as i stood there drooling, so to speak, some guy came up behind and slugged me, hard, really really hard. in the store with the most security of any by far, i got pummelled for no apparent reason.

the weirdo-jerk-bathdurd-mothertucker took off outta the store before the security guards could really react. i was more or less ok, just dazed, pixxed off. the back of my head hurt, my jaw was sore for some reason, but nothing major. 

as i eventually commented to the mall police, it usually takes people a while to get to know me before beginning to react negatively. one of them said encouragingly: “you look like you can take a punch.” i didn’t really know what that meant, but i decided to take it as a compliment. anyway, i called the store next day, with an ice-pack again on the back of my head, for an update. apparently, after checking the surveillance cameras, the police said that they knew the guy. i do expect to hear from them soon. 

meanwhile, i’ve thought long and hard trying to decide what the moral of this story is, could be, might be. and i’ve finally concluded that there absolutely in fact isn’t one. 

“basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. and maybe that’s what gives us our joy for living.” albert camus.