Spring Has Arrived

I'm sitting at the Java Express, it's just after 2pm, and the city is buzzing.  The temperature today is surely the highest of the year: 21C.

I've been sitting here now for 2 hours, and I find myself asking "Where do all these people come from?"  Have they all been hiding in their homes until now, and the minute the weather warms up they all come out?

People are going through the Tunnels by the dozens.

Two girls from a soccer team are eating ice cream.

An elderly man bought himself a coffee and is reading a book.

 Plenty of others are buying iced teas and paninis.

A couple of tattooed rocker-wannabes walk by. 

Bikers eat pizza after a morning ride.

 A poor man collects food out of a garbage.  He's wearing jeans and a leather jacket.  No shirt unerneath.

A girl in her twenties walks by in her bright yellow summer dress.  She's in flip-flops, wearing sunglasses.

Young people are looking at the art displays in the coffee shop.

A daughter walks on Main Street with her wheelchair-bound mother.

Women with strollers. 

Indians wearing saris. 

A black man is holding a small boy in his arms.  The boy has a lighter colour, squinting eyes, but curly hair.  The man's wife is Asian.

A couple of middle-aged women walk by in lululemon tracksuits.

Farmers drive by in their big-o Ford trucks.

The streets are full: cars everywhere.  Dust.  Life.

Today, this city came out of a deep winter slumber.

Wednesday Fútbol

I've discovered a great group of guys who play fútbol here every Wednesday.  What a delight!

I've discovered a recreation soccer league too, which is scheduled to begin mid-May.  Hope alive!

My First Haircut ..

.. in the prairies.  It's going to take some time to find someone worthy of my trust.

Spiritual Direction

Over the past couple of years I've contemplated the idea of getting a spiritual director.  Someone who will journey with me, accompany me in my pilgrimage towards heaven.

Spiritual Direction is not really a part of the ecclesial tradition I grew up in, and this tradition is the less for it.  Regardless, my inner pain has exploded and overwhelmed me this past year to an extent that is hard to put into words.  Life has become a stream of desolation.  I find it hard to distinguish up from down, light from dark, good from bad, right from wrong.

This reality has prompted me to intensify my search for such a companion, and thanks be to God, because after a number of emails and phone calls with a number of directors, I found someone I'm going to begin meeting regularly with.

Yesterday was my first meeting.  I was in such spiritual agony at the beginning of our visit that I just about burst into tears.  I had to concentrate really hard while speaking, so as to prevent myself from breaking down.  It was an exercise in self control.  But at the same time, even though I can't explain how or why, I felt a tremendous sense of relief (something perhaps akin to an unloading of burdens) throughout our visit.

I'm mildly optimistic about our future encounters.  Going forward, we will meet the 3rd Saturday of each month.

Regina Requiem

Sanity is a good thing, and to maintain (regain) my own, I need to leave town at least once every 14 days and head to Regina.  Today was one of those days.

I went shopping for some household stuff, I went for a nice Indian lunch buffet, but I also did a fair bit of sightseeing, and this, in -20 weather!

Below are pictures of Wascana Park, a park right in the middle of the city.  The park's quite scenic, even in the winter.  There's a lake right in the middle, surrounded by a network of walkays, bridges, and trees.  The cultural crown of the park is probably the provincial legislative buildings, although a music concert hall and the university grounds are also very near.  I look forward to exploring the surroundings come spring/summer time.

In the evening I attended the Regina Symphony Orchestra (RSO), which performs at the arts centre just across from the park.  They played Brahm's German Requiem, an amazing piece of work.  A requiem is a solemn song or chant or Mass, in honour of the dead, or for the repose of the dead. Accompanied by a 200+ voice-strong choir, tonight's concert was the cultural highlight of my stay in the prairies thus far.

My favourite piece is the opening song, based on Matthew 5:4 and Psalm 126:5-6.

Selig sind, die da Leiden tragen, denn sie sollen getrösted werden. 

Die mit Tränen säen, werden mit Freuden ernten.
Sie gehen hin und weinen und tragen edlen Samen, 

und kommen mit Freuden und bringen ihre Garben.  

Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.

They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.
He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, 

shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.

But while tonight's concert was the highlight of my stay here thus far, it was at once also the most painful event.  I've said elsewhere that I think God has a terrible (as in, awesome) sense of humour, and in a poignant way this became evident to me again today, when late in the afternoon - just before going to the symphony, actually - it became clear to me that the most significant and consistent friendship I've had in the past 5 years is, well, dead.

After hours and hours of investment - energy, effort, emotions, my very soul - the final result is disconnection, alienation, disappointment, even disillusionment.  I cannot go on like this, I cannot continue overextending myself, trying to save something, someone, that was lost a year ago, if not longer.  Things need to change.  They must change.  My very survival depends on it.  I must turn away from death and embrace new life.

So today's Requiem, then, is more than a musical piece honouring the deceased.  Today's Requiem has deep personal implications.  An acknowledgement of the past, a cherishing of the Good in this past, a recognition of the hurtful, the unwise, and the broken, and a trusting move towards healing, a surrendering (once more) into the arms of Providence.

In the coming days and weeks I will need to come to terms with this death.  How, I don't know.  But it seems to me that a great starting point is found in the Scriptures, which Brahms made such wonderful use of in his matsterpiece.

Blessed are they that mourn; for they shall be comforted.

They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.

He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed,

shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.

At least for me, they provide a foundational starting point for making sense of brokenness, inviting me to contemplate the Hope that lies beyond the here and now.  

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have Mercy on me, a Sinner.

Visiting Francis

One of the things that I think I will like about my new job is travelling.  It's nice to "get away" (escape?) from the known context every now and then, and experience something different.  To be sure, I wont do a lot of traveling, but I imagine 1 or 2 times a year I'll travel out of province, while 3-4 times I'll leave to go to places like Saskatoon or Regina.

Today was one of those days.  I left home around 7, in snowy, wintery conditions, headed for Saskatoon.

I spent the day there in meetings with Francis.  He was a good host.  The main theme of our meeting was orientation around the vision and mission of our organization.  Time well-spent.

We ate ribblings at Tony Roma's for lunch.  It's been a long time since I've eaten at that joint (we used to have one in Vancouver), and I'd forgotten how good the food was there.

At the end of the day I went to the Adidas outlet store and bought myself a soccer jersey.  Then I went downtown for a coffee before heading home.

It was a good day, but I felt a profound sense of desolation during the drive back home.  I'm spending too much time on my own.

Postcards

Late last week I went to the local tourism office to pick up postcards.  The quality of poscards in this city leaves much to be desired, but nevertheless, I sent out somewhere in the neighbourhood of 10 postcards to friends on the West Coast.

On Saturday night, on my way to the Vigil, I mailed them.

Quiet Prairie Easter

This year's Easter weekend was a rather quiet time for me.

I attended the morning service at St. Aidan on Good Friday.

Then on Saturday evening I attended the Vigil at St. Joseph's.

Finally, on Sunday morning I went to St. Aidan's Easter celebration.  I love the welcoming words of Easter Sunday mornings:

Minister: Christ is Risen!

All: He is Risen Indeed!

Sunday morning I was pleasantly surprised to hear church bells ringing on my way to church.  It reminded me of Europe.