The feeling I get when I walk into a book store is what I imagine it must be like for a fashion lover to enter through the doors into Saks Fifth Avenue in New York City or stroll down the Champ de Elysee in Paris.
It is the feeling of being surrounded by the stories of people past, present and future, the journeys of artists, the passion of the words, the knowledge and wisdom. It's like walking into a giant party where ideas are mingling around sipping cocktails or playing a cordial game of pool while others hang from the ceilings and a few have jumped into the pool with their clothes on and are seeing who can hold their breath the longest.
In short, bookstores to me feel alive, life each and every book has its own pulse, its own history. Just thinking about this gives me a head rush
Have you ever noticed that bookstores are designed like a maze in which you can find your own little corner while you lose yourself in another world? It's like bookstores are a gym I can go to to let my imagination run a few kilometres and lift some weights (although I wish going to the actual gym was this easy).
It's good to see that in an age when you can read Shakespeare on an iPad and the newspaper on your phone, it's still possible to hole up on a window sill of a bookstore on a rainy day with a book in your hands and read for hours.
So I am grateful for bookstores. I am grateful that they inspire me, enliven me, refresh me and make me explore. I am grateful for the people who make bookstore a possibility, especially the people who work there and the authors, who have lent their minds to others so they can be entertained or enraged or educated or confused or joyful or sad, but always feeling something.
Autumn leaves are nature's gift that keeps on giving.
Sadly I'm not talking about the Toronto Maple Leafs, who seem to be giving in to other teams every other game, but the leaves that are metamorphisizing, dancing and falling all over the place right now.
The other day I was looking out from the quad of my university along the Rideau Canal, I saw the trees lining the water waving their branches like flags of a dozen proud nations. All had different colours, different hues of red, orange, brown, yellow and green, like the trees had suddenly decided that with the sun deciding to sleep less and less these days that it was up to them to be vibrant and colourful.
It was a sight to see, but it wasn't just each individual tree that caught my eye, sparked my imagination and slowed my pace, but the way each tree covered in beautiful colours came together to create a huge living canvas right in front of me. I guess the individual trees coming together to create an amazing, hopeful and inspiration event could teach us all something about ourselves too.
But the leaves don't just stop there. One of my favourite smells in the entire world is the smell of fallen leaves when autumn comes around. It is the smell that reminds me of Thanksgiving turkey and mashed potatoes, of family sitting around the living room talking and laughing and of friends reminiscing about old memories while sipping on some nice pumpkin beer. Most of all it reminds me that falling down isn't always the worst thing that can happen.
So I am grateful for autumn leaves. For the beauty in their colours, the joy in their smell and the lessons they can teach.
Thwack!
That's the good ol' sound of a rubber ball smacking into my face. My eye stung for a few hours after the unfortunate run-in with the ball, but those are the breaks of a good game of dodgeball. Besides, the heart-pumping adrenaline rush from the game lasted far longer than my little injury.
That intensity is at the heart of why I wish the American Dodgeball Association of America was a real sports league instead of a made up concept from an amazing Vince Vaughn movie. If it was real, I almost certainly would have fantasized about the making the ADAA as a kid, even as most children dreamed of being in the NHL.
Alas, I am not a millionaire dodgeball player, but just another poor student who looks to find slivers of dreams somewhere amongst the reality. And that is why I jumped on the opportunity to play a game of intramural dodgeball with a team of friends last week.
I love the sport, if you can't already tell by now, and I think the reason why is the primal nature of it. Sure, hockey can get brutal, football can crunch a few bones, and don't get me started on rugby or lacrosse, but in those sports there's a goal other than hurting the opposing players. In dodgeball the only thing you’re focused on is hitting the other player with a ball and not getting hit back.
This intense, instinctive sport draws me in. When I play dodgeball, the gym turns into a gladiator's arena and a dual for ultimate victory begins. Surviving and conquering the court seems like an ultimate test. And as crazy as it sounds it's exhilarating to experience.
So I am grateful for dodgeball. I grateful for the wacky people who first got together and decided to whip balls at one another for fun. I am grateful for the friends I've played with over the years and great times I've had on the court. And most of all I am grateful for the feeling of joy I get when playing the game, the kind that lets me leave everything behind and live out a dream.
My face looked like a run-down kitchen. My eyes were as red as tomatoes; my nose blocked up like a bad kitchen sink and my mouth was as dry as day old dishes.
The reason? My girlfriend's pet cat, Akira.
Well, Akira shouldn't be totally to blame. I am at fault a little as well. Okay, maybe more than a little. Maybe a lot.
You see I am extremely curious of Akira, having never had a pet before, and love when she comes to sit on my lap. I of course pet her and let her lick my hand and then, with no regard to my own safety, I end up touching my eyes or nose or scratching my face, which leads me to blow up like a balloon and look as if I just watched a very sad movie.
And that is why allergy medicine is such an amazing thing. When I take it all my symptoms stop bugging me and I am free to enjoy not only Akira's company, but also that of my girlfriend. Snuggling up to watch a movie with her isn't as enjoyable when you're sneezing in the popcorn. The medicine takes away the blocks that are keeping me from spending time with the people, and pets, I love and helps to bring me back to normal and enjoy the things around me.
So I am grateful for allergy medicine. I am grateful for the scientists who developed it and the people who make it and sell it. I am grateful for my girlfriend who has stocked up on the medicine in anticipation of my sniffly nose and itchy eyes. And I am grateful for the way it brings me closer to some every day wonders rather than pushing me away from them.
Today is one of my favourite days of the year. The day when the country is awash with red and white, when fireworks will dominate the night sky and when the Blue Jays wear those weird, but patriotic red and blue jerseys for their game.
Yes, today is Canada day. The day when we can celebrate all that makes this country great, like the fact that we have our own bacon, our national animal, the beaver, can pretty much take down a whole forest (can a bear, an eagle or a lion do that? I think not) and that we eat so much fruit that we invented basketball just to get rid of the tons of leftover peach baskets that were crowding our homes.
No, Canada isn't perfect. We have our flaws and I find myself frustrated with the nation's politicians or troubled by the mistakes in our past, but what makes this country awesome is that I can sit here and say that I feel this way. Hockey is a spectacular and beautiful sport (and last time I checked we were number 1 in it) and Tim Horton's will always have a special spot in my heart, but the ability to exercise my rights of freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom to rant and moan about politicians on a bad day without threats or harm coming to me is one of the best things about the country I am proud to call home.
So I am grateful for Canada. I am grateful for the people that have made this country great. I am grateful for the beauty of the land and of the beauty of the people who inhabit it. I am grateful for the people who came before me, who fought and sacrificed so that I can stand in line and vote, so that I can write how I love Canada and so people can disagree with me about the greatness of this fair land. So on this day I wish that everyone's afternoon is sunny, their beer is cold, their health is good and their Canada day an amazing one.
I know this is the first day of summer, but to be honest it has felt like summer for at least a couple weeks if not a month, especially when I'm down in the sand traps burning up for my job at a golf course. It's like a beach without the water.
But what is special about today, what is so unique and amazing is that today is the longest day of the year.
Yes, this is the day when the sun stays up and parties the hardest, allowing us to bask in its rays, its warmth, its beauty and its life for more time than any other day of the year.
Today is the day I can sit outside on my porch and sip on a nice cold drink without having to fold up and go inside early. Today is the day when I can use one of my corny, but reliable jokes; oh man, this is going to be one long day!
So I am grateful for the longest day of the year. I am grateful for the sun shining, the warm weather and being able to enjoy these wonders of nature long into the night, or rather day. And I am grateful that in six or seven months when I'm surrounded my snow and heading home at 4:30 in the dark, that I can remember this day and make a little sun shine out with the warm memories.
Thwack!
That is the sweet sound of protective eye glasses keeping a piece of bark from destroying my left eye. Trust me I would know. That very thing happened to me a few days ago as the weed whacker I was using flung a piece of stray bark up at me, aiming for my eye with its devious bark mind.
But I still have my sight in both eyes and that is thanks to the protective glasses my work provided me with. And this particular pair of glasses act as sunglasses as well, so I can be shielded from the sun, be protected and look cool and mysterious all the same time.
What is there not to love in that equation?
It's also good to know that employers care about the safety of their employees, or at least about their eye sight. Maybe their only concerned about me being able to see well enough to get the job done, but that works for me, and besides I think my boss generally cares about my well being.
So I am grateful for protective glasses. I am grateful for the multiple layers of practicality and fashion appeal they have (although what do I know about the latest in eye gear). I am grateful they save me from injury and allow me to look around at all the wonders this world has for at least another day. I am grateful for the employers who care enough about safety to provide people with the right stuff for the job. And I am grateful that the glasses held off the bark and its bite.
