Travels in Atlantic Canada

This is a very quick post -- I am sitting here in a gorgeous little bed and breakfast in St. John New Brunswick. The house is probably 150 years old, refashioned from a one-very-rich-family house to 15 rooms of guest accommodation.

The woodwork is original, so is the leaded and stained glass windows and it is splendid. And they have internet in the drawing room with the original fireplace from days of olde. Beautiful.

Tomorrow morning, very early, we get on the ferry to Digby Nova Scotia, across the Bay of Fundy and to Bear River, the place where I want to live for at least part of the year.

It's been a long trip of miles and miles. I do a lot of driving anyway so I'm used to it. I'm travelling with my two older sisters (my older twin sisters, whom my friends call "The Double Diane Keatons" -- they do look a lot like her, and the energy is quite similar). And with my parents .. who were promised this trip for their 50th wedding anniversary.

There will be many stories after this trip is over .. so far, the highlights are ... we are finally here in the Maritimes. Long, long, long drive. And I'm not overly tired. And I was able to impress the hell out of all of them by doing the driving through Montreal. They were awestruck ... and swore they would never go further east than the Quebec/Ontario border again unless I was doing the driving. I enjoyed that .. both the driving and also the compliments when they all said "I can't believe you brought us through that". It wasn't that hard .. but if they want to believe it was a feat of great bravery, I'll let them believe that.

Tomorrow morning we catch the 9 am ferry to Digby. My mom and dad are having a good time .. which is a big deal because up until now we haven't been able to convince them to go on a trip anywhere. So this is good.

Enough for tonight ... I'm going to enjoy my wine and this beautiful house (hope there's a ghost or two hanging about ... makes it so much more interesting to have an apparition or two to reckon with ...)

Instructions for Freedom

If you haven't read it yet, read "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. It's a story about one woman's journey of self-discovery -- first to Italy to enjoy sensuality, love of self and good food; next to India to discover her spiritual centre; and then to Indonesia to tie them all together. It's a great book.

In one chapter, she's at an ashram in India. She is instructed to go to the roof of the ashram, watch the stars come out, and to come back down again when she can let go.

Here are her Instructions for Freedom:

1) Life's metaphors are God's instructions.
2) You have just climbed up and and above the roof. There is nothing between you and the Infinite. Now, let go.
3) The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go.
4) Your wish for resolution was a prayer. Your being here is God's response. Let go, watch the stars come out -- on the outside and on the inside.
5) With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go.
6) With all your heart, forgive him, FORGIVE YOURSELF, and let him go.
7) Let your intention be freedom from useless suffering. Then, let go.
8) Watch the heat of day pass into the cool night. Let go.
9) When the karma of a relationship is done, only love remains. It's safe. Let go.
10) When the past has passed from you at last, let go. Then climb down and begin the rest of your life. With great joy.

So What's Up With That?

If you're a Facebook friend of mine, there is a 50% chance you are also a Facebook friend of Barry's. We have a lot of overlap. Some of you are casual friends, but a lot of you are pretty good friends. So as you watch his status updates come in and then watch mine, you may be wondering "what's up with them?".

And also a lot of you have warm concern for both of us. And that is lovely. So, as I try to make myself NOT look at his page (and don't often succeed), I still find myself wondering things like "how the hell did he find an internet connection when he's on a bus in White River?". (Though if anybody could find an internet connection in the middle of the bush, it's him)

I'm not going to pretend I don't care, but I wanted to reassure all of you who care about me (and him) that I'm doing alright. It's another stage in a letting go that is getting less and less difficult all the time. Every now and again, a big wave will come and knock me over .. which is what is happening this week. But the waves are getting smaller and smaller with calmer seas in the middle.

It hurts to watch him go. I'm not at the point yet where it doesn't hurt any more (looking forward to that day, though ..) I am also glad he's going ... we met out in BC. His family is there. Regardless of whether or not this particular new relationship works out (ho, man, this guy falls in love easy ...), BC is home.

I always kind of felt like I dragged him back here to Ontario .. I don't think he really liked it here (he hated Toronto for the longest time). And he adores his mother. She is 80 and it is really good that he is going to be closer to her. And his brother and sister, his nieces and nephews. He seemed very alone out here, even when he was with me. So it's good he's going back to a place that feels like his.

Something else some of you might have noticed ... Barry started a Facebook group called "Bring Barry Home". He explains that he's been sick over the past year and very broke and he needs some help right now with relocation costs. When I saw it, my first reaction was guilt ... like, it's my fault. And then a bit of anger because I thought it might reflect badly on me ("she took him for everything he's got" .. which is not true). All irrational stuff ... as I remind myself not everything is about me.

Then I took a few minutes and let compassion settle in. He's had a rough time of it, just in a different way than me. And throughout our whole separation, he's been pretty honourable for the most part. And reading through his request for help, I realized that five years ago, he would never, ever, ever, have asked for help from anybody but me. And often, not even me. What this shows is that there is growth happening. He is trusting people. And that is so good.

And however mad I still get at him, I do have to acknowledge that he has helped many, many people over the years. He very rarely asks for anything for himself. I support him in his efforts to reach out .. I am not contributing to the fund myself because I don't think he wants me to. And my first instinct is to rush in and save him (a hard habit to break after 22 years together). I can't do it. But I hope that others do.

As for me, I know I have to stop looking at his damn Facebook page. And I have to leave living of his life to him. Time to butt out (as several of my friends have been sternly reminding me .. after I post this, I am fully expecting at least two people to chime in and remind me to get back to work. They're right ...

Time to take care of myself. It's not about him anymore. It's all about me. For now. Maybe some time it won't be just about me, but I think it's going to be a long time before I get seriously involved with anyone ever again. It's all still pretty raw ..

I always believed that I could maybe find somebody as good as Barry. But never better. It's not that I have to stop loving him .. it just means that I have to learn how to do it differently.

It's a good thing that he's going back ... and it's time for me to butt out ...

The Urge for Going

And I get the urge for going
when the summer grass is turning brown
and summertime is falling down
and winter's closing in - Joni Mitchell

Fall is always the time when my feet get restless. Starting with moving out of my parent's home to go to university many years ago, to hopping on the train to move out to Vancouver ... and most recently, packing up my house two years ago and living various places. And last fall .. preparing for my trip to Asia, and getting on the plane and actually going.

This year, I am staying in one place. It's other people who are going ...

I just found out that Barry is planning to move back to British Columbia ... 25 years after I hopped on the train and went west myself. And met him. And then came back with him. And now he's going back ..

And another friend of mine has just told me that he's moving too. Hamilton is a hard city to live in for a gay man, he tells me. He's moving back to the community where he lived before he had to come back to take care of his elderly parents. They are both gone. He is sad that they're gone, but free to go.

I talk to other friends who are also wondering where their lives are going to take them. On the fun side of things, I just had an energizing conversation with a group of galpals of mine ... we were dreaming ahead to the day when we'd open up an old lady commune. Similar to the way we were living in the '60s and '70s but with more style, flair and money. We were also talking about buying a joint property on some tropical location as our winter home (NOT Florida .. we're talking about somewhere really exotic).

I am wondering where I am going to be travelling next. I don't think I'll be staying in Hamilton over the long term but for now it's time to cool my itchy feet. Like my dog, I never did learn to listen to the command "Stay!"

But stay I shall. For now ...

So I'll ply the fire with kindling, pull my blankets to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in
I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay for just another month or two
But she's got the urge for going
So I guess she'll have to go.

Those Weak Female Politicians ...

Here's one of the stranger paragraphs I've seen in a long time:

From The Globe and Mail, today, "Pakistan: Former PM's Lobbying Trips Leave Little Time for Family" by Brett Popplewell:

(preceded by several paragraphs about her rise and fall from power as the only woman to have governed an Islamic state in the modern era)

"Though she's comfortable wielding the powers of a world leader, she's not without her weaknesses. It's said her personal library in Dubai houses four shelves devoted to self-help books. A lover of Ben and Jerry's caramel fudge ice cream, chocolate cake and meringues, she keeps her impulses in check by switching from one diet to another. Although, for treat, she enjoys lunch at Harrods, London's famed department store".

Maybe that's why I never had the desire to go into politics ... my weakness for Ben and Jerry's obviously deems me unqualified for the halls of power.

The Art of Eating Slowly

I recently joined the new Hamilton Chapter of Slow Food.

I heard about the Slow Food Movement almost twenty years ago and have always wanted to join. Slow Food was started by a man named Carlos Petrini in a town in Italy back in the '80's. When a McDonald's opened up in his town, he reacted to fast food by promoting Slow Food.

Slow Food means noticing what you're eating. Tasting it. Smelling it. Taking time preparing it. And enjoying what you're eating with people who are also enjoying what they're eating. It's about quality instead of quantity.

Today, we were invited by the head chef at Ancaster's Old Mill, to have our meeting at his restaurant. Jeff Crump has been involved in the Slow Food movement for longer than us. It was sure evident when we sat down at the table. He had prepared a simple, but elegant and beautiful dish of fresh tomatoes with herbs and pesto, a platter of four artisan cheeses, grilled flatbread. We finished off with a cherry clafutti, which was sweet cherries cooked in a delicate, sinfully rich batter that you might use to make crepes. To say it was all divine is an understatement.

And so we ate ... slowly. But it wasn't just about the food. The conversation around the table was far-ranging ... we talked about local products, local restaurants, but also issues which affect the food we eat. Urban sprawl, poverty, availability of organic food, supporting our farmers, patents on life forms such as seeds. The point of Slow Food is not just to eat and enjoy good food .. but to become informed and involved in the issues so that good food is accessible to all.

It's a noble cause. And rich .. in taste and in content.