nightly writings

Another day has come and gone. It's 10:33pm as I start to write a little bit about my day. It's been a fantastic day. I woke up this morning at 5:30am, and just rested in bed for an hour. I wanted to get up but part of me didn't want to rush. And that was okay. I got up, checked my e-mail and then got dressed. I put on my helmet and bike gloves, and took the elevator down to parking level one, where I went to the bike room. Today, I took a hand tool with me so I could tighten some of the bolts on my bike, as I found some were loose on my last ride. Satisfied my bike would be okay, I hid the hand tool in the bike room so that I wouldn't have to go back upstairs with it.

And then I went for my ride.

It was cooler again today, but that was okay (yes everything is at least okay, if not fantastic!). The cool breeze felt good as I rode a little faster and a little harder today. I pushed myself to go for longer clips, as I'm determined to build up my endurance. I find it difficult to go for long steady clips of constant peddling to propel myself forward. I often will go for a bit, then slow off, letting the momentum carry me along. But that does nothing to build endurance or the strength to go up hills! It can hurt from time to time, but no pain, no gain, right?

Overall, it was a good ride.

I took a different route today - they have two detours that take you from one part of the seawall to the other, while avoiding those sections of the seawall that were badly damaged due to the windstorms that hit Vancouver during late 2006 and early 2007. The first, I've described in my previous posts - it takes you uphill to Prospect Point and down to Ferguson Point. The other, which I took today, is flat and it goes past Beaver Lake, over the Causeway and straight to Ferguson Point.

Again, I was surprised at how much damage was done to trees that lined this route. I stood in awe and amazement at one very large cedar that had fallen. It had been cut in two, with a section removed as it had landed across the trail. And from this, you could easily see the concentric dendrochronologic rings that dated back more than 800 years. Someone had marked out the approximate dates along this set of rings - 1400, 1500, 1600, 1700, 1900 and 2000. Running my hand over this ancient wood, I felt as though I was connected through this tree to the deep past of our humanity - to the time of Shakespeare, the discovery of America and the birth of my parents. My own life takes up such a small part of this now dead tree. Only a year ago, it was still living.

After continuing my ride along the seawall, I wound my way up through the downtown core, along Smythe Street to then turn down and onto Robson Street until I met Bute and came home.

I had a good breakfast. A bowl of Kellog's Raisin Bran, followed by the last left-over waffle from Mother's Day that I had re-heated in our toaster oven. I also enjoyed a nice bowl of fresh fruit.

Then, I showered, did some work on my computer and left for school. The meeting that was supposed to happen at Noon failed to happen, as not enough people came out. So then, me and a few others went BBQ hunting. We found a few possible deals and I plan on checking a few more places over the next few days before making a recommendation to the KSA's executive.

Then, I went to my third year class on CREATIVITY AND INNOVATION. I know I'm going to really enjoy the class. The teacher is fairly engaging. She knows her stuff. She has a lot to share and a lot to help guide us all through our individual journeys of discovery. We were broken into groups and some people were sceptical of the process. Part of the course has us reading and doing exercises from "The Artist's Way," but some in our group said they didn't have time to do the exercises, including Julia Cameron's recommended "Morning Pages," in which one gets up each morning to write and explore whatever they want to on a written piece of paper. I tried to challenge them about why they would not do these exercises, but I know my attempts were not as coherent as they could have been. I did not get to the point - I did not convey the benefits of that process. Many of them said they had too many other things to do in a day - be it studying, working or volunteering. But how hard can it be to set aside fifteen to thirty minutes each day to engage yourself in processes that can help you see the world a bit more clearly? To help you enjoy it just a little more? We only live once, right? Why should we allow ourselves to be caught up in the intricacies of everyday life if we do not enjoy it? If we don't question ourselves, how can we ever find any answers? And if we don't question ourselves, how will we ever know that it is time to throw out the old answers in favour of something better and new?

I may e-mail our teacher and ask her about ways the students could be motivated or convinced to at least try these exercises --- as I honestly believe that through them, one can become a bit more centered, a bit more grounded and a bit more creative. I know the teacher is tying the idea of the artist's brain into the idea that everyone of us can take a leap from the academic, logical point of view that should really ground us all into a realm of thinking that is more creative whereby individuals see the world differently and examine it from different points of view. Whereby individuals aren't afraid to seek out connections and associations. One of the books we are also reading has us reading about individuals who have made this leap - like Einstein and Picasso.

But how do you convey that? I can only hope that others at least read what authors like Julia Cameron have to say. That they at least open themselves up to the possibilities that exist. It's the only way to become more well rounded - a better person if you will.

To that end, I think I'll end this post with a quote from Julia Cameron from her book The Vein of Gold:

"In the world of spirit, there are no orphans or stepchildren. Each of us is a child of the Universe with an enormous endowment available for our use."

Good night everyone!

- Steven