‘At the still point———-‘

So I guess that when we were making our New Year Resolutions for 2020, either silently or noisily, we may have resolved on a healthier food regime, a more stringent exercise discipline, a career change, a trek up to Everest Base Camp or a cruise to Antarctica. Some of us made jokes about 20/20 vision and saw little on the road ahead of us other than carrying on as normal.  Now as we drift into 2021, we are probably crossing our fingers, beseeching the triumph of a better reality over a less forlorn hope. There will probably be a glass raised and a firework lit to see in the New Year.  Time will tell whether that toast to a new beginning will be a joyous cup of cheer or that firework display will be a true harbinger of better things ahead . Let’s hope.

However there has been some good come out of this, our ‘annus horribilis’, our year of troubles.  Apart from death and personal tragedy and social disruption, (“Apart from that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play??”) there has been innovation and initiative; there has been an inward turning; a reflective mirror gazing; there has been a need to look at the world differently whether that be in our families,  within our nation states or across the globe. There is something refreshing about the return of dolphins to the canals of Venice and the arrival of mountain goats on the deserted streets of Lhandudno in Wales, is there not? Our climate has been better for the absence of our planes in the skies and our traffic on the roads. Is it too much to hope, Dear Reader, that our hearts and souls have become better because they have been removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday living? Not so, of course, if one is a frontline worker!

We now know, if we didn’t already, that loneliness and isolation shortens lives, particularly of those who are older. Meanwhile at the other end of life there are now millions of children who have suddenly realized that school is not such a bad place to be after all! We didn’t know what we had until it was gone.

Here in North Vancouver as summer drifted into Fall, when the sun’s heat faltered and the clouds appeared and the temperature dropped, the group meetings outside became more and more difficult. My wife, Irene, gave up her painting of the outside of the house and brought her skills indoors so that barely a day passes when there is not movement of furniture and the smell of ‘Antique White’ as a new coat blossoms. I dare not sit still for fear of being daubed.

 I have made it a routine to arise at an early hour and wander the 15 minute walk up to our local “Bean Around the World” coffee shop. There I will don my mask, order my drink and remove myself outside to the patio. There, if it is raining, I will sit on one of two chairs and huddle under a narrow awning and do my best to tackle the newspaper crossword using the dim light above.  There I will remain alone until joined by my fellow  crosswordian, Heather, some 30 minutes later.  Since the darkness and gloom of the mornings has become too much for my poor eyesight, I have now brought along my head torch. Since cold snaps have become prevalent, I am ever more layered with long johns, thermals , a toque and  protective clothing. To an onlooker it must look somewhat eccentric to see a solitary male, so garbed and lit, when it looks likely that he does have a warm home in which to reside.

And yet, Dear Reader, those early moments of every day are most pleasurable. Out of the darkness comes the steady queue of traffic lining up for the Macdonald’s drive through; from the small apartment block under which the café nestles come the same group ; the dog walkers, the young woman going for her run, the speedy, purposeful walk to the car of the young professional ,  the Search and Rescue guy strolling downstairs in his flip-flops for his daily caffeine, the open-hearted friendly young woman who arrives in her pyjamas, grabs her coffee and settles on a stool round the corner for her pre-dawn smoke. Most joyous of all is the arrival of the wee takkers at the Daycare over the road. There, parents on their way to and from, hand over their most precious possessions to professionals who greet, smile and make a lively fuss and draw them in to their world of care and love.

Lately, my friend Dermot reminded me of his favourite day of the year. December 21^st in the Northern Hemisphere is our longest night. As he smilingly pointed out to me, it is from that point onwards that our days get longer, gradually and gently nudging us towards increasing hours of daylight. So now, with that date in our rearview mirror Spring’s renewal seems not so far away.  So now, Dear Reader, at some point of every day, I will reach for my phone and check on local sunrises and sunsets and venture a private smile as I note our days of light lingering longer . Soon I will be able to leave the head-torch at home, put the thermals back into the bottom drawer,  set aside the gloves, replace the toque with the baseball cap. Soon I will raise my morning head towards an inkling of daylight, a renewal of rays, and my smile, my demeanour and all of my being will be uplifted.  But for the moment, Dear Friends—————–, in the words of T.S. Eliot

“At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless; neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is.”

Thank you for reading.

My hope is that 2021 shall be a happy and healthy New Year for you all.