Outrigger Canoe Races

I helped out at the Outrigger Canoe Races this weekend in Gibsons. On Saturday I did parking control. My job was to wear an orange pinny and ask folks who wanted to park on the pier to not park on the pier unless they had to. If they had to, I moved the barrier to the side so they could. I met the most wonderful folks. The sun was shining, the harbour filled with boats of all kinds, the last bits of snow on the mountains. It was Marvelous. My mind drifted to the time I did parking control at the airport in Grande Prairie for the Bikers' Build Off. The wind was raging, the dirt coated my teeth, I was surrounded by industrial park and airport, and pick up trucks with cracked windshields. I didn't meet that many interesting people as all the walkers were intent on getting to the shelter of the tents, to look at the bikes and meet their friends.
Today I sat in the Harbour office and did data entry of race times. I watched the starts of the races; what excitement!! 30+ craft - one man kayaks, OC-1's, OC-2's, from the island, the mainland and up the sea-to-sky highway. It was very interesting, and I learned a lot.
Many of the paddlers were wearing these primitive necklaces, strung on hemp. They consisted of a larger, long bone coloured bead, accompanied by 4 wooden beads - white, black, red and yellow. I asked a paddler what the story was. It is made of devil's claw root, a plant that grows wild all around. Aboriginal belief is that devils' claw root protects one on the water, and the 4 colours are the colours of the skin of humans walking the earth. Local school kids gather the root, make the necklaces and they are distributed to paddlers on the coast. A wearer of the necklace is meant to pass it along to someone who they believe to need protection on the water. I saw my paddling friend Martha Ware, and admired her necklace and told her I learned the story. She promptly took hers off and pressed it upon me, putting it around my neck herself. I hugged her hard for it, for I am indeed in need of protection these days. From what or who, I'm not sure. It could even be from myself.

Paddling

Oh I love paddling. Here is my dragon boat team. I am in the third seat back, grey hair and sunglasses. This was taken on Wednesday, 4th July. We had a great paddle that day. We saw several eagles, a deer swimming out to Poise Island, seals and other seabirds. There were porpoises out but we didnt' see them. I hope we paddle for the whole summer.

What happened to June???

I can't believe it is already July. What happened to June? dunno.

The traffic around the coast is pretty congested. Lots of tourists, lots of people on the roads. i have to go to the city on Monday to get my sister Kari and I'm not looking forward to driving over there. I guess all i have to remember is slow and easy.... Despite crashing my car in January I am a pretty good driver, much better since the crash as I now have experience with how quickly airbags deploy.

Kari is coming to visit from Calgary. She has not been to my house since Amber graduated I think that was 2002. Of course I don't live in that house anymore. I am glad she is coming here to visit. I think she will enjoy herself. The deck is lovely to sit on and we'll have nice mornings just sitting and visiting. I hope she feels better when she is here. I don't necessarily mean physically, I know that stuff hurts. It is the continual focus on what is not right that gets to me. It's always about someone at work not doing something nice or productive. Or the driver ahead of her not letting her in, or the parking spot at Safeway not being available. Or the next door neighbour having a nicer car, bigger house, younger, prettier. Those things are all facts, but they are portrayed so negatively with Kari; never a celebration of affluence of the neighbourhood (if their place is worth that, what is yours worth?) or happiness at a hot summer day (the joy of working in air conditioning)... I don't understand the glass half empty look at life.

I do have my moments; those hopeless thousand mile gazes into the future that looks like it will unfold from one day into another, joyless and grey... BUT what seems to happen for me is that I begin to look for the bits of joy. the red leaves on the neighbour's tree. the sun on the grandfather cedars. My shiny pink nails. And i know that if i breathe in, breathe out, and do it again, that the cloud will lighten, they grey dissipates, and there is joy in small things that lead to bigger. I think it is that i never stop to engage the grey - i am quite afraid of getting stuck. I don't want that shit to settle in my bones, under my skin where it is like sludge that is so hard to move.

Of course this continual moving is not always healthy. Sometimes i find myself moving through the joy much too quickly, as that quick pace is what got me through the sludge last week. it is a challenge sometimes to switch rhythms, to remember to experience all of my life, as Gibhran says "to know joy one must know sorrow".