Wednesday I met with my sister Ilea and friend Nathan on the Dalhousie University campus. I studied there for two years and decided to spend some time wandering around reminiscing about a mostly uneventful and low point in my life. Oh, but the sights were not unpleasant. A girl juggling on one lawn in particular caught my eye. While waiting for Nathan and Ilea I read a book and observed her awkward, but improving, attempts. If there’s anything I miss about my time in university, it’s the diversity of people, and the resulting moments of observation like that.
Once I met up with Nathan and Ilea, who, unknown to me, are in the same history class, we all headed downtown to purchase tickets to the most exciting concert experience of the autumn. Yes, the astounding Buck 65 will be performing next Wednesday and our group of four (Ilea’s fiance Greg will be coming along) will be attending. I’ve seen Buck 65 many times, and each time it’s a wonderful time. I can’t wait to hear his new material live because it’s a distinct change from his previous work.
Ilea and I also went book shopping to find a present for our mother’s birthday, which is coming up on the 23rd. We ended up getting her a book detailing some of the history of the city of Sydney, Nova Scotia, near which she grew up. She holds a great deal of nostalgia for the place she grew up and it’s always nice to be able to find a thoughtful gift that can correspond with that. I haven’t been to that part of the province in a long time myself, but I do feel I should explore it again before long; there are both facinating and disheartening aspects of Cape Breton (the disheartening part being the poverty that has been inflicted upon the region), but overall I find it a beautiful place.
I find myself neglecting the very things I promised myself I’d strive not to. Cleaning out my excess possessions has been put off with the excuse of change. That’s an easy way to become trapped in a cycle of inaction. It may not be an immense change, but one I know will be a weight lifted, freeing in a very noticable way. The less I have, the more I am. That may be true or it may not, but it’s the path I’ve chosen. If it can’t join me when I dance the world it’ll have to leave me. Love, communication, art and some necessities are what enrich me; the rest loses meaning constantly.
Dried petals are coarse on my fingers. I feel the future is beautifully uncertain, yet I’ve a sense that the change I’ll face will be positive.