I remember the exact moment I discovered wisdom. Do you? I was thirteen years old, riding the city bus down Bank Street, back in Ottawa. Where were you? The bus stopped for a red light at Gladstone, and I watched through the window as an elderly man gave the fabric of his pant legs – just above both knees – a small tug before bending down to pick up a dropped something in a gas station parking lot. For curiosities sake, I tried it out for myself that afternoon. Sure enough, the extra slack turned out to be a revelation. It was a humbling moment. There on my knees, I was forced to admit how little I really knew about life.
It seemed like such a great idea at the time… A quick toilet scrub while running out the door to my full-time job. In pursuit of maximum efficiency, I squirted some cleaner in the bowl and went at it with a vengeance (quite literally). I attacked the chore with such violence, I must have looked like I was plunging some horrible clog. Until…
Exploring the delicious, pine-scented back woods of Quebec, one quickly learns to walk a few paces behind a partner. No, our dear French Canadians do not subscribe to some antiquated religious diktat – although the prevalence of front yard Virgin Mary ceramics do make one wonder. The gap is simply to prevent one of those prickly, dew laden, boughs from clocking you in the nose when it whips back across the path.
We lose so much in the time-clogged rush of being a modern woman; so many of life’s most beautiful lessons are forgotten in the mania of “having to do it all.” As the brush caught on the rim, and a heavy spray of yellowish, mucky, bleachy, ‘water’ splashed up into my face, I grabbed hold of the gentle quiet of those pine-lined trails to stop from screaming. No, life is not fair (especially before 7am), but it’s nice to know there’s still enough justice, somewhere out there, to make sure I was wearing my glasses!