A Girl in the World

July 2010

Compassion’s pain

July 29, 2010

Sometimes, there are moments I wish I could take back and do-over.  Press life’s Rewind button.

Today, we went to the hospital to get the Boy’s stitches removed (he had minor surgery a few weeks ago and was in for a routine screen).  I hate hospitals.  Especially urgent care (emergency) rooms.  They are creepy.  A symbol of pain, heartbreak, stress.  I’m one of those people who can walk into a room and instantly feel the emotion of the place. Emergency rooms are not zen, no matter how nicely they’re decorated or how many fun magazines there are on the tables.  They make me instantly anxious, so much so that I feel nauseous.

There was a lady in front of us at check-in who was being helped out of a wheelchair.  She must have been in her mid thirties and clearly in a lot of pain.  Tears rolling down her eyes, she shuffled slowly into a room out of sight.  My imagination started running wild with possibilities.  What could have happened to her?  Why is she here alone?  Did someone hurt her?  A few minutes later, she was asked to sit in the waiting room across from me (the Boy had gone in to see someone at this point and it was just me and her, with the TV blasting in the background).  She looked away, ensuring I wouldn’t see her face and she sat there hunched over, clutching her stomach.  I could hear her sobbing.

So much of me wanted to reach out to her and ask what was wrong.  I was in agony for her.  I could feel her pain from across the bright, lifeless room and I wanted so badly to touch her and give her whatever comfort I could provide.  But another part of me feared getting too close.  I feared that I was intruding on her privacy, I feared the possibility of being exposed to a world and life much less innocent and different from my own, I feared her pain.  My heart was breaking.  For her.  And because I was so disappointed in myself for my own cowardice.

A few moments later, a nurse came by to give her some medicine and the Boy came out with a happy smile on his face.  We could go now. Everything was fine.

Except that it was not.

The moment had passed.

Compassion and love could have been exchanged in that moment, in a time  and place when they were needed most, but now the chance will be lost forever.  It’s been a few hours now and I am still feeling ill from the experience.   Terrible.  I couldn’t find the courage to risk my own fears so that I could relieve the pain of another.

I hope the next time, I will be different.  =(

Share|

{ 3 comments }

A lovely birthday week

July 28, 2010

Pink and orange daisies.

Midnight champagne and fruit.

The Saatchi Gallery.

Cool shoes.

Date night spoilage over din and martinis.

Cross timezone love notes from around the globe.

Surprise birthday cake.

Love from Ma and Pa.

The love of a good man.

Another year of unfathomable adventure concluded.

Press Play for the start of another.

Share|

{ 0 comments }

28

July 27, 2010

Wowza, I am old. Twenty EIGHT?! When did that happen? Clearly I don’t feel 28. Actually, I forgot it was going to be my birthday today and scheduled an evening meeting. It was only after the Boy made me cancel that I realized today wasn’t just any other day. Today is the start of my official, undeniable, unavoidable entrance into my late twenties.

*gasp*

They say that 30 is like the new 20, which means I’d be about 18. Like, oh my god, totally! Like, I’m so done with high school and I’m like SO excited about university! What am I going to put in my dorm room?! And like, oh my gosh, who will my room mate be?! And eeeks, there will be SO many boys!!!

Umm, yeah… NO!

Twenty eight is just fine, thanks.

Actually, the start of my 28th year has been pretty amazing. A virtual hug from Mama. Champagne and raspberries at midnight. The summer in Europe. Abundant love. Happy parents and a happy little brother. A way of living where every morning is bursting with hope. Good health. A learned grace. Blessings that pour in the truckload.

Today I am thankful.  I am the most blessed 28 year old there is.

Share|

{ 1 comment }

Finding Time and beauty in London

July 21, 2010

If my heard had wings
I would fly to you and lie
Beside you as you dream
If my heart had wings
- Faith Hill

Post-trips, post-move, post-sorting-bank-accounts.  And now rest.  Rest.  Long, languid, sunny afternoons with the curtains open and the breeze wafting in.  It is music and tea and biscuits at noon.  It is stillness for stillness’ sake.  It is weekends wandering aimlessly by the river.  It is the near-impossible achievement of finding a quiet peaceful corner in London.

It has been a glorious few days of getting reacquainted with this city.  The weather has been perfect, the days have been long.  There is time.  And though being back here feels like visiting an old friend, being in London and having time is a new experience for me.  There was never time.  I was running to work, running away… running always.  This place is a whole new universe with time.

Afternoon matinees.  Sunning in the parks. Picture taking in whole new neighbourhoods.  With time, beauty reveals itself in layers.  Beyond the noise, the crowds, the exhilarating novelty of all things different, there is a strength of culture here that can’t be found anywhere else and it can pull the rug from under you and take your breath away.

Like this past weekend, during a walk along the South Bank of the river we ran into a humble string band playing beautiful music on the bridge.  We watched Brazilian samba in the streets.  We perused a used book fair.

It isn’t always a search for something new and different.  Sometimes, if you give yourself the time to sit still for a while, sometimes if you give your wings a rest, beauty finds its way to you.

Share|

{ 0 comments }

A summer in London

July 12, 2010

Post image for A summer in London

A summer in London. The latest pit stop on the road of this here adventure. If you had asked me a year ago if I thought I’d be in London this summer, I would have told you no. But life has an interesting way of working out just a little different from your expectations and, well, here I am.

After a year away from Europe, it wasn’t long before I found excuses to come back. A trip with Mama, a wedding,  girl travel.  London’s been calling.

But with a voice so different from the one I left behind. I’m back full circle and so so happy to discover that London isn’t home anymore. It’s beautiful, it’s fun, it’s cultured and so gorgeous during this time of year, but the things that I want for myself are decidedly different from what I thought I wanted a year ago.  I’m happy to be here as a visitor and so incredibly at peace with this fact. I am a visitor. A very local visitor, but a visitor nonetheless.

The next six weeks will be spent exploring every nook and cranny of this amazing city. There will be markets and lounges and parks and picnics. We are going to devour every museum, every festival, every warm humid night under the stars. This is the summer I get to know London more intimately than ever before.  Now, we’ve got all the time in the world.  No rushing away, no morning commutes, no late work nights, no rain, no cold.

It is a summer fling, a rendezvous, a stolen moment and sweet slow dance. This summer, I’m going to have an affair with a long lost lover.

Share|

{ 0 comments }

A wedding in Germany

July 12, 2010

We’re back from a wonderful few days in Baden-Baden Germany, after spending time with friends at one of the most beautiful weddings I’ve attended. In the middle of a heatwave, we congratulated Scott and Sonya as they declared their vows atop a vineyard in Germany’s Black Forest region. There were tears, champagne, strawberries, blazing heat, a gaggle of friends, a lightning storm.

Love and lightning. Perfect.

Share|

{ 0 comments }

Paris D’Amour

July 2, 2010

Mom and I concluded our 2nd annual Mama-Den Summer Euro trip last week.  We’ve decided to make it a tradition to set aside a week or two each year to spend time together on this side of the world.  After the ridiculousness of last year’s trip, we realize just how good for the soul a raucous, unsupervised mother-daughter escapade can be.

This year, we visited Holland, Belgium and France.  And even though we’ve been to Paris many times before, it was my favourite stop.  The city is just stunningly beautiful.  The afternoon we arrived was warm, sunny and perfect.  I couldn’t get over the fairytale feeling of walking, living, eating in such gorgeous surroundings.  Do people really live in such a fairytale setting?!

The city of love is a hard one to photograph.  After an hour walking the streets, beauty numbs the senses.  It’s like walking into a candy shop of all the best sweets in the world and not being able to decide what to purchase.  Paris is visually overwhelming.

But what I loved about our time there together was just that, it was TIME.  We didn’t run around trying to photograph sites.  We just walked, ate, talked and shopped.  Rinse and repeat.  It was slow, relaxed and lazy, just the kind of time that Mum and I needed with each other.

Between the crepes and jewelry stores, I did manage to snap a few photographs here and there.  It takes little effort to capture beauty in a city like this.  It’s everywhere.

Share|

{ 2 comments }

Full Circle

July 1, 2010

Back in February when we went to Vancouver for the Winter Olympics, the Boy and I were talking about the idea of progress.  It had been a while since I’d been back to Vancouver, my university town, and I was so pleasantly surprised to see such great improvements in transportation.  Obviously the city spent millions to invest in the games.  Efficient transport is a necessity when on the world stage.   I was proud to come back to my old hometown to see things much improved.

Now, exactly one year since I quit my job in London, I’m back to spend the summer.  And wow, I can’t describe how emotional the last week has been.  I came with a year’s worth of meticulously earned zen only to be smacked in the face with all the great and terrible things London has to offer.  Madness, energy, chaos, life, dreams and nightmares.  I felt like a villager coming to the big city for the first time, completely overwhelmed and under prepared.  How could I have forgotten just how fast, crowded, vibrant and chaotic this place is?  You’d think that after a year of vagabonding, the senses would dull and London would feel more peaceful somehow.

On top of the stress of trying to find a proper summer sublet, I’d forgotten about the crowds, the expensive everythings, the impossible schedules of friends I wanted to see, the summer tourists, the hot sweaty smelly steaming transport system.  Instantly, the thudding heartbeat of a city on permanent fast-forward was ringing in my ears.

For a moment, I was shocked to see that London had become more crazy, more busy, more chaotic than I remembered.  Is that even possible?, I thought to myself.  Had the city changed so much in a year?!

And then I realized, it wasn’t London that had changed, it was me.

I have changed.

I am calmer.  I am softer.  I am a satiated wanderluster with a travel hangover the size of Texas.  I am ready for my hangover nap.

I am here with heart in hand and feet firmly on the ground.  Finally!  Feet. Firmly. On. The. Ground.  This is huge.  Rewind to a year ago, and you’ll see a Denise whose feet were so itchy she couldn’t step foot into a travel bookshop for fear of chronic, debilitating, painful wanderlust.

Progress.

Vancouver needed a direct line from the airport to downtown.  Enter: the Canada Line.
Denise needed to see the world.  Enter: a year long rendezvous with the open road.

And now, after zebras, lions, gelato, beaches and tango, it’s no longer just about place.  It’s about the people whose time and love and energy I share in the places that we inhabit.  It’s about love and family and friendship: all things I had to travel hundreds of thousands of miles to chase, only to find it all back where I began.  It’s about coming full circle.

The London of a year ago was fun, stimulating, alive.  It was jet setting and mid-week dancing and shows and fancy restaurants.

Today, it is old haunts with even older friends.  It is the chronic non-committal friend who happily admits he is in love.  It is people moving to the outskirts to raise beautiful families and babies.  It is moving on to bigger and better things.  It is crazy girl friends finding true love.  It is home-cooked dinners around kitchen tables.  It is the familiar pub with familiar neighbourhood faces.  It is raucous girl talk over sushi and cocktails.  It is complete joy and happiness at the beaming progress of love found, peace acquired, change sought.

It is Progress.  Not in the superficial physicalities of this magnificent city but instead progress in the hearts and lives of the people who make this place worth coming back to.

Progress is good.  It can be healing.

Share|

{ 0 comments }