For some reason the word square always makes me think of chocolate bars that are in little squares. Go figure.
So I’m at Hillcrest Library (29th and Ontario) killing time-ish until I teach my evening class (49th and Ontario.) I’d had an appointment at VGH and didn’t want to cycle all the way home and then bus or cycle all the way back.
Still though, a few hours to kill here. Days like these I wish I had a car . . . . That would be much zippier. Zip, then zip and zip again.
But alas, not.
Besides, gas is expensive and etc.
Yeah, that’s it.
I’m not a fan of cycling home in the dark – I won’t be doing that too often. I’m mainly avoiding Car-2-Going. If I have my bicycle then I can’t use the Car 2 Go expensive situation.
This is important when one is only making a limited amount of money.
Two evenings a week at Langara is okay – and a bit of money. The slow ESL season has kicked into, well, high gear (or perhaps low gear that should be). I could sub a whole 1.5 hours a day for four days next week if I like. November-January will be dead, said sub coordinator.
This I knew.
Oddly, I’ve made the minimal amount of money that I needed to make this year – it means I have to live off of savings but those are savings I saved this year, or something like that there. I think it was because I had a regular job for the first three months and then another month what with vacation pay and pension fund returned to me in the form of a small direct deposit. Twas one year ago today I started the church job. Does not time fly. Was the day the minister told me, “I will never upbraid you in front of others.”
I remember thinking, uh-oh. Why would he upbraid me at all and why is he using that word, odd.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve moved back to square one. Despite the pretty cool work I’ve been doing with the A.T. and getting more perspective than I’ve ever had in my life really .
But then, something happens whatever it may be, and I feel like I’m back to square one. I react or overreact or what have you, my anxiety shoots up and the voices in my head tell me, hey, look there is square one.
Not necessarily true though.
One step forward, a few steps back. Indeed.
I am easily rattled, tis true. I don’t like that about myself at all. Mind you, that doesn’t change the fact. Rather, it just adds to the problem really.
See the great Rumi poem, “the Guest House” for more about welcoming everything in laughing.
That was a rather profound philosophical change for me. But, as per always, I want that change to change, well, me.
As we can all tell, wee wee fan base, I’m having my usual load of unstructured time to obsess.
I should check out another film at the Vancouver International Film Festival. I’m being careful of course since the films are pricey. I saw a documentary with F. last Saturday that was overly long (so also said the critics) but had its interesting points. I have forgotten the title (like I forgot a baked potato in the microwave the other day) but was about the Maha Kumbh Mela, the world’s largest religious festival where millions of Hindus descend upon the Ganges River to take a Holy Dip. The filmmaker followed certain people around the festival – including “Baba Yogi’, an elderly man who had renounced the world (as the Baba’s do) but who ended up raising a toddler he had found abandoned as a baby. Touching stuff. It is truly a bizarre festival to my Western eyes – the scene that neither F. or I will ever get out of our heads is where one of the pilgrims, folds up his private bits on like a stick and then attaches bricks to that stick. The scene went on for a bit. Yogi Baba decided one day to take the Holy Dip and spent what seemed like a good number of minutes getting to the water while his body was in the position of his legs wrapped around his head. He had to keep stopping; his adorable toddler telling him to hurry up. I’m impatient and wanted to shout out, ‘get in the damn water. ‘
Not so patient am I.
A fellow just sat down beside me at the next computer. He is singing an (East) Indian song and has the most tremendous body odour. Lordy, I hope I adapt.
Judge not, judge not.
So, yeah, maybe a film.
Luckily, I had my once every three weeks visit with S.T. today and I talked about my square one.
Sunny days today and tomorrow they say, with rains coming after that.
I’m a trying.