Saturday, October 26, 2013

Mind Stillness OR SOTC 76/365

Ever Tropical (SOTC 76/365) by gina.blank
"The point is that when I see a sunset or a waterfall or something, for a split second it's so great, because for a little bit I'm out of my brain, and it's got nothing to do with me. I'm not trying to figure it out ... And I wonder if I can somehow find a way to maintain that mind stillness." -- Chris Evans

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Dressed in Finest Gold (SOTC 75/365)

Autumn Towards the Sky (SOTC 75/365) by gina.blank
The elm trees form long, interconnected canopies up and down the streets of my neighbourhood. Season after season, the arched branches are dressed in nature's latest trends.

Winter tops each branch with frost and flakes. In springtime, sticky, shiny new buds of electric green burst forth from those same branches; a full cover of green evolves as summer's long days arrive.

Too soon, the days begin to shorten, and the air becomes crisp. By the end of September, a mottled mix of green and yellow decorate the streets. By October, the branches are dressed in their finest gold.

I stand there in the middle of the street, watching a soft and steady flutter of leaves trail down from the canopy above. In another week, this colour will all have vanished. In that in-between of November--after the leaves are gone, but before the snow has fallen--the trees will stand naked and colourless.

So I will stand for just another minute. And hold the colours as close as I can.



SOTC 74/365

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Unjaded

I had a chance to step into my old role at work last Friday, working one-on-one with a little guy at a preschool. Well, sorta one-on-one. While he has limited mobility in his legs, and a bit in his hands, he is cognitively typically developing; a smart, confident young man. I was mostly just there to ensure driver safety with his walker.

He wanted to jump on the mini-trampoline at centre time. He bounces independently on his knees, a mix of straight up-and-down bounces with the occasional horse kick thrown in for good measure.

As I supervise just off to the side, we engage in conversation: about his full-size trampoline at home, about his older brother who tries to hog trampoline time, about how this little bouncer is harder on his knees than he's used to. 

It is quiet for a minute.

Then he comments, "sometimes people watch; they look at me a lot."

In an instant, my brain imagines all the scenarios where this little guy moves around on his knees, or in his walker, while the world around him moves unassisted on two feet. Expecting to hear him parrot whatever his parents have taught him thus far about how to respond to gawkers--and preparing myself to enter into a brief conversation about how it makes him feel when people act that way--I respond open-endedly with, "oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. It's cuz I can bounce so high."

Because the conversation was never about his disability to begin with.