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February 26, 2009
Salt
There is a theory that our species originated from the sea, that all living things lived in the sea. Then, a few hundred million years ago, the living things began to live on the land as well. In a way, after all those millions of years living in the sea, we took the ocean with us. When a woman makes a baby, she gives it water to grow. That water is almost exactly the same as the water of the sea. It is salty, by just about the same amount. Our blood and our sweat are salty, almost exactly like sea water. We carry the oceans in our bodies, in our blood, our sweat and our tears.
There is also a theory that we descended from aliens.
And this is what I was pondering as I stood at the urinal on the 6th floor of an office building at Broadway and 14th Street today. My thoughts about this, and whether it would explain my undeniable connection to the sea, were vivid. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize that there was another guy in the washroom, in one of the toilet stalls. He flushed, and emerged from the stall to wash his hands, completely breaking my train of thought.
I apologized to him. He looked at me quizzically, tipping his head to one side as if to ask what I was apologizing for. I let it go, quickly realizing that I had been so deep in thought that I actually thought I had been uttering my musings out loud. He must have thought I was mad (maybe I am, although, this is New York City).
Midway through practicing Bikram yoga in the hot room, as I caught the edge of a bead of salty sweat that dripped down my face and into the corner of my mouth, I realized that every day we pass people on the streets and there is a common bond between us - a conversation that requires no words.
The place from where we may have come - the sea - is full of so much mystery and magic. Unlike the sky, the surface of the sea prevents us from seeing beneath it. I suppose that this keeps us wondering whether the truth of our existence lies beneath that shimmering salty veil. And if it does, goody. Because nothing makes me happier than the sea. Except for my husband, whom I love as much, if not more, than the sea.
Posted by dave at 06:33 PM | Comments (0)
February 18, 2009
Compost
My Toronto friends are lucky. The city picks up organic waste for composting. New York is not quite as advanced. Although I learned recently that the Metro Transportation Authority sorts garbage in the subway and train systems. While I think having separate bins for recyclables and trash helps with public awareness, sorting the garbage is a step in the right direction.
We have a garburator (or as New Yorkers call them, a waste disposal) in our sink that grinds up organic matter into tiny little bits and sends them into the New York sewer system for treatment with all the other things that get flushed and rinsed.
But it occurred to me recently, on my way to yoga near Union Square, that I had nearly tripped over the Lower East Side Ecology Center's composting bins several times. So I decided to start to collect our organic waste and schlepp it to Union Square with me. I am on week 2 and feeling pretty good about it. I think this is an infinitely more useful way to get rid of organic waste. The LESEC collects 60 tons of organic waste and the city uses the compost for the public gardens.
Score!
Posted by dave at 11:26 AM | Comments (0)
February 09, 2009
San Francisco
Chis and I love San Francisco. Easily the second city in America in which we could see ourselves living. Like Vancouver, there is a sense of outdoors that I totally connect with. Prana is a big part of our attachment to the outdoors, and we bike, walk and run. But there is something about the temperate climate of California that is intriguing. Well, we could sail year round couldn’t we?
It’s always fun to dream. I think this is how we have managed to move 11 times in 16 years. We are open to anything, completely malleable to change, and things have a habit of dropping in our laps from out of nowhere when we least expect it. It is this open mind that keeps us young. If we had kids, this would be a principle we would instill in them.
The baby shower was a ton of fun, and I was able to meet many of Chis’ San Francisco colleagues for the first time. They are an amazing bunch of people, each interesting in their own way.
I’ve only been to San Francisco a few times, but this time I felt more at home. With my black cords, fleece sweater, backpack and sunglasses, I looked like a local! I hoofed it up Nob Hill to practice yoga. We bought groceries at the farmers’ market at the ferry building.
And in contemplating my return to New York after two weeks away, Chis and I talked about what it all meant. Was this a pilgrimage, or just a really amazing trip? Was there a purpose? Was there a reason for feeling the urge to do this trip, at this time? By comparison, last winter I sailed from Puerto Rico to Bonaire, and from Aruba to Panama. While these would seem to be more cathartic and meaningful, they weren’t – not like this.
Family, friends, and children. This is the recurring theme. In New York, we have virtually none of these. This is the hardship of living abroad. As the fog clears, it becomes patently clear that we must commit more time to family, friends and children.
It is easy to run away to pursue a dream. But ultimately, the things that are important in life are always there, right beside your dream. Often taken for granted, but never disrespected. To everyone who devoted the time for me on this trip: thank you for being part of my family. You mean the world to me.
Posted by dave at 07:47 PM | Comments (0)
February 06, 2009
Vancouver
You wouldn’t know that Vancouver is a year away from the Olympics. I figured in my greener, more frugal lifestyle I would take public transit to Jim and JoAnne’s place on the north shore. I was told it would take 4 transfers and almost two hours. I hired a cab.
The Mulligans are very precious to Chis and me. There is something about their kids, Sam and Christine, that I connect with. They are super active and super bright, and so I have always felt that they were on a par with me (except for the super bright part). I hadn’t seen the family in 4 years, and I was growing worried that we had drifted apart. Well, one this is for sure, true family is inseparable, and the instant I saw them it was like 4 years had never transpired. Except of course for the fact that Christine, at 14, is now 3 inches taller than me. And Sam is catching up quickly.
There is something about Vancouver that gets into my soul. The fresh air, the rain, snow in the mountains… I fell right back into the outdoorsman that I find so difficult to be in New York. Jim and I snowshoed to the summit of Black Mountain, I did a ton of walking, cycling, and yoga. I had dinner with Lawrence and Janusz, which was wonderful.
I was intensely sad to leave after 5 days with them. It was true quality time with them, each of us doing what we needed to do, but still circling back to the cell of the family. I miss them terribly and have committed to be a bit more dedicated in staying in touch.
By the time Jim dropped me at the airport, my fog, the purpose of my voyage, was becoming a little clearer. It has something to do with family, and something to do with children. Maybe San Francisco will help to clear the fog. No, wait! It’s the foggy city. Clearly, the fog is a metaphor. For what, I’m not yet sure.
Posted by dave at 07:43 PM | Comments (0)