Last night I had dinner with my dad and grandma in the city. We ended up talking about the place where my dad grew up and how these townhouses are going to be torn down for new buildings. Naturally, this lead to stories of his childhood. I could listen for hours to stories of the past and indulge in the fantasy that life was better, simpler, more romantic in such a time.
But these stories also elicit a fear that I cannot properly describe. The idea that the places where all of these events happened is about to be destroyed and eliminated forever scares me to a point of desperation, a void that cannot be filled. The immensity of it all, of all the things that have been, that were, that never will be again. The things I have never known, never seen, never felt, and yet somehow feel connected too. The infinite songs, movies, picture, novels that I will never hear, watch, see, or read.
It's an irrational sentimental fear, but the idea of not being able to know every song that has ever existed, every movie that has ever been made, photographs of people who once were like you and me, and pages of books that I will never touch. All of these are forgotten stories, and it only reminds me of how someday I will be a forgotten story, a memory that will not be remembered. I don't mind not being remembered after I'm gone, but it's all of the things that have come & been before me; things, people, places that I will never know or experience, the immensity of everything that has happened throughout time that has been lost from all recollection really plays into my fear. It gets me thinking about why we are even here at all and what part do we each play in this world, a world that wavers between being small, damaged and hopeless to being vast, illuminating with greatness and hope. An adventure. An overwhelming wave of infinity that, from time to time, floods my mind.
Be good, spread goodness, accept goodness, live a life of kindness and creativity. That's the conclusion I reach everytime these thoughts haunt me. And on the long ride home when my dad decided to turn off the radio and let the silence settle, I looked through the window into the lonely dark sky and focused on the stars, remembering how insignificant everything is at the end of the day.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Paradise
I just returned from a much needed vacation to Mazatlan, Mexico and am missing it terribly. It takes a lot for me to feel stressed or worried over anything really, but for some reason by the end of April I was beginning to feel overwhlemed without knowing the root of why - and I still don't. I do know that this vacation worked its magic and my thoughts are now refreshed.
Mazatlan, oh where do I begin? I have been to Mexico countless times, but never to Mazatlan. Let me tell you, it is one of the most beautiful and underrated place I have visited. My friend Chelsea and I went on the city tour and I have never felt so safe to wander the streets of a foreign design. The landscape, the architcture, all of it was breathtaking while luscious and rich in history. And the people that reside there are just lovely, so kind, friendly, and completely non threatening. Chels and I even ventured to town in an open taxi alone the following day because of the electric atmosphere.
On the city tour we met incredible new friends that gave the expereince that extra special quality. 4 couples ranging from the ages of 24-40 became our family for the last few days of the vacation. The Saturday night after the tour we got dressed in our leafs gear (as we all came from the same Toronto flight) - including Dom's legendary mexican Leafs poncho bought from town, and headed down the road from our resort (YES, we felt safe enought to leave the resort- besides I don't know who would try to tackle ten crazed leaf fans) to a local sportsbar for some grub, drinks, and, of course, the leafs game! The food was spectacular - much better than the resorts, and sadly the leafs sorely lost, but the company was enthused regardless.
We had lunch at another restaurant down the beach from our resort twice as well. There was a surfing contest and the place was packed and full of energy - and might I add dirt cheap! They were handing out free shots of rum as well as nachos and salsa. Always a good time. The waves were constant, and we were told that surfers from California travelled to Mazatlan to ride these waves. The beach is known as "witches beach" because of the many deaths due to undertoe... needless to say we did not tempt fate by swimming in the ocean. But just relaxing on the beach loungers with drinks in our hands, the sun kissing our skin, and a view of towering palm trees along with ocean waves... nothing less than paradise. Pure paradise. And the sunset, we watched every night from our balcony with our evening beer, was a spiritual experience - like looking into a glimpse of heaven.
*long sigh* yes I miss it terribly. It was sad to come home, but home is home and I have returned to beautiful weather in Canada. Summer is here, life is illuminating and alive again. Even breathing is easier in summertime. My mind is at ease, and I'm at peace with nostlagic thoughts of palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze while simultaneously embracing the near future of poolside joy, beaches, and cottage life. Summertime freedom is upon us.
Mazatlan, oh where do I begin? I have been to Mexico countless times, but never to Mazatlan. Let me tell you, it is one of the most beautiful and underrated place I have visited. My friend Chelsea and I went on the city tour and I have never felt so safe to wander the streets of a foreign design. The landscape, the architcture, all of it was breathtaking while luscious and rich in history. And the people that reside there are just lovely, so kind, friendly, and completely non threatening. Chels and I even ventured to town in an open taxi alone the following day because of the electric atmosphere.
On the city tour we met incredible new friends that gave the expereince that extra special quality. 4 couples ranging from the ages of 24-40 became our family for the last few days of the vacation. The Saturday night after the tour we got dressed in our leafs gear (as we all came from the same Toronto flight) - including Dom's legendary mexican Leafs poncho bought from town, and headed down the road from our resort (YES, we felt safe enought to leave the resort- besides I don't know who would try to tackle ten crazed leaf fans) to a local sportsbar for some grub, drinks, and, of course, the leafs game! The food was spectacular - much better than the resorts, and sadly the leafs sorely lost, but the company was enthused regardless.
We had lunch at another restaurant down the beach from our resort twice as well. There was a surfing contest and the place was packed and full of energy - and might I add dirt cheap! They were handing out free shots of rum as well as nachos and salsa. Always a good time. The waves were constant, and we were told that surfers from California travelled to Mazatlan to ride these waves. The beach is known as "witches beach" because of the many deaths due to undertoe... needless to say we did not tempt fate by swimming in the ocean. But just relaxing on the beach loungers with drinks in our hands, the sun kissing our skin, and a view of towering palm trees along with ocean waves... nothing less than paradise. Pure paradise. And the sunset, we watched every night from our balcony with our evening beer, was a spiritual experience - like looking into a glimpse of heaven.
*long sigh* yes I miss it terribly. It was sad to come home, but home is home and I have returned to beautiful weather in Canada. Summer is here, life is illuminating and alive again. Even breathing is easier in summertime. My mind is at ease, and I'm at peace with nostlagic thoughts of palm trees swaying in the ocean breeze while simultaneously embracing the near future of poolside joy, beaches, and cottage life. Summertime freedom is upon us.
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