Musical Inhibition--NOT

I was riding downtown on the bus today and a young lady of about 18 was riding in the seat in front of me.  She had a huge napsack next to her.

From the time we got on the bus to the time we arrived at Bridgeport Station in Richmond, she was gently bouncing side to side in her seat to the music she was listening to.  It's not the first incidence of people riding and listening, but I smiled as she seemed to be totally with the music.  She wasn't bothering anyone and I could only hear a few tingles of rhythm coming from her earphones.  She looked at the gorgeous scenery going by and her sense of rhythm didn't stop.

I am a music lover, myself, but, at almost 48, I still find myself freezing in action if I'm drawing attention.  I'm not used to not caring what people think.  I'd like to do a good jive or jiggle in public. not caring if anyone's looking at me.

Maybe it's a matter of timing--I almost knocked a few restaurant patrons off of their feet in my need to be uninhibited.  It was an excellent song from the 60's  that required a good "swim" move, the one where arms alternatively take turns crawling to the music.    I thought my girlfriends were right behind me, but, instead I almost "crawled" back into a very sweet young family.  I apologized and was glad they only had a smile and laugh for me.

That was one of my moments lacking in inhibition.  It was fun.  I just have to learn to do it without almost injuring people around me.

Accepting and Giving Compliments

What is it in our society that many of us are not great at accepting compliments?  I and many others will often say, "Yeah, yeah!", or "this old thing?", or brush it off as if the ones in our lives give only empty flattery or compliments. 

I can only speak for myself.  I hate to hurt feelings.  I try to see the best in others and hope that, because I'm not an overly blunt person, people will not see me as dishonest. I also give compliments easy because I do see many good things in others.  At times, it has been taken as sheer flattery instead of sincerity.  I could never be a judge on "American Idol" or "Canadian Idol"  as it seems to ask people like me to be harsh and cut down the hard work and practice of those who've put sincere effort into what they do.  I won't tell someone they're brilliant if they're not, but I won't tell them they're crap either!

When I went downtown one day, I saw some old leaves and twigs and right among them was what I saw in this picture!  Gorgeous blossoms!

24

I've never been a numbers person, so I try not to think of numbers having signifance, especially where sadness is concerned. 

I used to love the number "24" as it was the day I was married on June 24, 1989.  I still try to see that number as positive.  Unfortunately, it's also a number I now want to avoid.  The 24th is also the day Jason died after a long weekend with his body fighting against itself.  His brain wasn't working, but his heart kept beating with a new valve.

Every month, I don't go, "okay, tomorrow.  I'm going to be depressed tomorrow because it's the 24th."  I've had good "24ths" since Jason died.  It's only a month until I face the second anniversary of Jason's death and I already feel heavy-hearted.  But, I won't be laying in bed as it is tempting to do.  I'll get a "meatball marinara" sub--footlong and watch a movie he especially loved.  I'll work on my writing and go down to the waterfront with the beautiful promenade and pier. 

Why does a number seem to come to mind even though I have so many positive memories of another "24"?  I can use this day to let the clouds hang over me or I can Thank God for the gift of having him for the time I did.

From Lonsdale Quay at mid-day.  There were boats from Russia, Greece, and Korea in the bay that day.  The smoothness of the water made me want to hop aboard one of the ships to see where it would lay anchor next.  I had a delicious spanakopita while I watched the beauty of the water and the city.

Beauty and Chemistry

The whole place could've been empty and they would've just looked at each other while skating.  The routine was thoroughly romantic with the stolen glances, the winks, and the whispered thank-you from Moir to Virtue were just for each other.  As far as I was concerned, they skated beautifully, not just because of their years of training together, but of a love and respect for each other that can only make their already beautiful routine perfect.  Congratulations Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir!  You made Canada proud but you also made us fall in love with you!

Ski Anticipation

I've been totally enjoying the Olympics and today had to top it--so far.  I watched the Men's Alpine Skiing event today.  While I felt that the run was entirely too icy, I actually felt myself holding onto my chair as the men went down.  It did something to me I didn't think I'd feel again for a long time--Exhilaration!  I wanted to feel the snow and air on my face and the anticipation of wondering if I'd make it down the hill without breaking my neck.  I can't speak for the skiiers, but I almost felt that I wanted to be there, not competing but going down the hill.  Of course, my hill would probably be the second shortest hill on the mountain..

I was never a big sports person as I've often struggled with vertigo, depth perception, and balance.  Hypo-thyroidism when I was small did not help as it affected my muscles and hamstrings.  Gym class from elementary school to junior high was a trial for me from beginning to end.  However, when I went skiing, I couldn't help but love it.  I'm amazed I can say that, as my earliest and most embarrassing memory of skiing, in grade 4, had me hooked on the fence waiting for someone to get me off.  My glasses were all foggy and I was amazed I wasn't crying as my friends swept by me down the hill.  There was also those horrible inventions: the rope and the t-bar.  I hated those with a passion.

In later grades, I again took to the hills.  While I slipped and fell a few times, I didn't end up on the fence. I was determined that I was going to enjoy myself.  I loved going up the chair lift and found it easier to get off of than the t-bar.  I learned, in one lesson, how to ski without my poles!  Again, my favourite word these days--exhilaration!  I haven't skiied for over 30 years, but hope to do it again.  I think I will.  I don't know whether it's that I want to prove myself after all those years being teased about my lack of co-ordination, but I'm finding myself wanting to enjoy things I've either not done or haven't done for a long time.  My mother laughs as my list of things to do (bucket list?) seems to get longer. 
If there is any hint of self-pity, forgive me, but I'm also realizing that maybe my fear of many things has held me back from testing myself more.  Who knows what I'll do next?  Come soon for my list!

Masochism and a Busy Day in White Rock

I was on a small shuttle bus that went down Marine Drive past the water.  Being the time of the Olympics, I thought I'd stay off of the big bus that went from Crescent Beach to Bridgeport Station in Richmond as I believed it would be crowded.  I meant to stay on the bus and just adore the view I love so much.  What happened?  I got off.  I can never just go past the water.  The tide was out and it looked like you could almost walk half-way to Mayne Island.  Okay, that's too far, but children were splashing in the water and chasing seagulls, a young couple was kissing (I walked past them) and a group of young people were bouncing a ball around.  It looked like something you'd see in the summer.  It's not summer, but a gorgeous Saturday.

I decided to scrub Jason's brass plaque clean as the elements always seem to fade it sometimes.  With a piece of sandpaper, a glass of water, an sos pad, and a soft cloth, I lovingly polished the plaque so that it gleamed in the sun. 

I went for an ice-cream, as Jason and I often did, and went to eat it on the pier.  For once, I actually didn't take any pictures.  Somehow, I almost felt like I didn't need to.  I felt peaceful and happy.  The promenade by the water was crowded today, making me wonder what the vacationers in the early part of the twentieth century felt like.  I know that there wouldn't have been many cars in those days but White Rock was one of those places people would come to each summer, many to quite large "cottages".  Also, people would get off of the train in White Rock or get on.  The beautiful train station is still here.  The money from the plaques many people had placed here went towards the maintenance of the station, now the White Rock Museum and Archives.


I don't know why I always do this, but I always either have to walk up one of the steepest streets in White Rock or down.  Today I walked up and prayed that my knees and ankles wouldn't surprise me  and collapse.  I also hoped that my lungs would hold up.   I puffed my way up anyway.  It actually wasn't that bad.  I puffed, but, when I got to the top and looked back down at the water, the pier, and the many people enjoying it, I felt invigorated.