a journal of self-propelled dharma
A guy a few blocks from my house posted a window blind for sale on Craigslist. He had priced it at $30 but when I arrived, he said $10 would do—although to buy it new would have cost close to $200. The guy didn’t care about the money—it was just that he could not bear …
I’ve taken a job managing 400+ teenage volunteers, for the Vancouver International Children’s Festival. It’s a six-month full-time gig, culminating with the Festival at the end of May. Holy cow! Or given that I have already begun to conceptualize these 400 latent teenager volunteers as mutant ninja turtles—cowabunga. Dude. I’ve never worked a full-time gig …
There’s that scrabble of tiny feet again. Late at night in my turtle bus bed I lie head held stiff, an inch above the pillow. Scritchy-scratch. Houdini’s back. Over the past few days he’s grown bolder, daring to be seen in scuttle from shelf to door. He nibbles fruit, neat small bites in the morning …
Me six years old in the field behind the school, holding the kite up over my head. Dad at the far end of the string — higher, wait, wait – not yet! “My arms are tired.” “Wait, here it comes…no, wait….” “Daaaaaadddd!”… “Wait, no…OK… here it comes, here it comes, up, up, LET GO!” Up, …
Every few minutes I hear the gentle whoosh of the SkyTrain, whistling through the early evening silence. The SkyTrain is 1km from my home, and I’ve never heard it from here before. Normally the city’s drone smothers it out. A small flock of early goldfinches gathers in the crabapple tree to pick at the buds, …