These past couple of days I’ve been commuting to the apartment from the home of congregation members who are hosting me. It’s a whole new way of life; gathering everything for the days work in bags the night before, checking to make sure I’ve keys to get out of the house, to get into the car, to unlock the steering wheel lock. (We are taking no chances with getting the car stolen again). And then there’s a key to get into the apartment building, another to get into the apartment itself. Hello #206, at last! Keys, keys and more keys. What would we do without them?

As well as being prepared with things and keys there’s calculating what time to leave in order to get there on time. It’s just a ten minute drive but at rush hour it could be a bit longer. Incidentally rush hour in Edmonton is like normal traffic anywhere else. And on this short commute I’ve even contemplated joining the rest of Canada queuing for coffee and Timbits at Tim Hortons. But so far I’ve settled for tea and instant oatmeal for breakfast, after morning meditation.

Timbits are to Canada what Big Mac’s are to the rest of the world. Tim Hortons is the nation’s favorite ‘pit-stop’ chain, founded and named after the famous hockey player, and should not go without mention while I’m still in this wonderful country.

So this morning at 6.30 am as I sailed north up 109 Street, accompanied by the Gold and Silver Waltz, I had an appreciation of what it’s like to commute. Back in the early 1970’s I drove one to two hours up the A3 to London in a venerable VW bug. There was heat which reached to my right foot only, no radio, very little synchromesh, and suspect breaks. And I loved that bug to pieces. Ah, happy days.

It was during those long commutes, nose to tail at high speed through the Surrey countryside, that I learnt something of sitting still. Much latter while parked for two hours, or more, on the M25 London orbital, I passed through the impatience barrier to a deeper acceptance.

Sometimes one learns to sit still because there is no viable alternative at the time! Waiting in traffic has never been the same since that M25 incident. Uh! Maybe I’ll stop for some Timbits tomorrow morning.

Canada reached a record breaking high temperature to-day. Somewhere has to be the hottest place, and that was Lytton BC, at 40c. Let’s hope it cools off by the time we get there on Friday.

It’s been a warm day in Edmonton too.

Our landlord, Bob, phone half an hour before we were due to meet him for the final inspection of the property we vacated yesterday.

The accumulated strife and frustration which often arise when dealing with a landlord had become focused on this last encounter with him. Without fully knowing it I, and the member who had dealt with Bob in the past, were keyed up for an ‘encounter’. After all most of our meetings were less than easy-going ones. We were conditioned to anticipate trouble. However the place was clean, the holes in the walls were filled, and no damage had been done. And, AND a huge amount of working meditation had gone into dry walling the basement to make it into our meeting room. We had left the place better than we had found it.

Still, the final ‘walk through’ loomed. “Would we get our $900 damage deposit back”? “Would we have to make a case”? Bob on the phone, “Hi. No need to do the walk-through”, “Everything is immaculate”. “You can pick up the damage deposit cheque tomorrow”.

For all the frustrating phone calls about the heating system malfunctioning, the calls pleading for permission to put up light fixture, for all of the receipts still unpaid, I put my hands together and say, THANKS. Thanks for showing me, once again the assumed adversarial relationship with landlords, workmen, and officials of every kind. Thanks because where else is one going to learn to go deeper than fear, frustration, defensiveness and fury than in the hands of individuals one feels powerless to counter.

Tomorrow I will be dealing with the power company and the phone company. Actually, I’ll be dealing with individuals doing the best they can to do their job to provide a service, to customers who are often unhappy even before they arrive at their door.

This photograph was taken two years ago. The trees have grown a lot since then. Edmonton is glad to let the world know they have the largest amount of green space within the city in North America. I’ll have to check that out however that’s what I was told. There is probably a record number of trees as well. In this part of Edmonton, south of the river and near the University the streets are all tree lined as here.

The street where we lived.

It’s not every day I get pebbles in the mail. This will probably be last package of substance I’ll receive at this address in Edmonton. What to do with them, that is the question? Found objects can take on a huge significance, like these stones which were picked up on a long distance coast to coast walk in Northern England last year. A significant walk I understand and now with one trail companion recently dead.

There has been a pine cone, which looks like a hedgehog, moving around the priory. Somebody brought it here and here it has lived, on top of the fridge, on the window ledge, in my pocket and now it’s moved in with the pencils and pens. How those hedgehogs get around!

A member brought a shell back from Vancouver Island, it’s sitting in the hands of Kanzeon; she who hears the crys of the world. Will it travel with Kanzeon to the groups next location, day after tomorrow? Or will it come with me to British Columbia along with the pebbles, and the hedgehog?

I’m packing, packing, packing.
With no time for blogging.

Slow moving objects trying to find their next place of rest.
One monk, one pair of hands and many more things to attend to.

I love the pebbles, there’re coming with me on retreat, they can remind me how to sit still. They are reminding me already. Thank you, I will do the right thing by them.