Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Sidney David


We’re on the road! Our amazing Subaru (2005) cruises through the highways as if she knows exactly in which direction she is being driven. The Rocky Mountain loom ahead. They are majestic, even from far away. We are definitely on our way home.

I am Canadian, no doubt. But the fact of the matter is, I was born in the United States. I left very early in my life, and did so intentionally. Spending time in Billings Montana reminds me of some of the reasons I left some 43 years ago.

Reason #1- I order my coffee at the local Coffee Roasters. “I’ll have a medium sized bold coffee, please.” I said. As I receive my coffee, and move away from the counter, the man with the cowboy hat behind me orders his…”Give me a gunpowder green tea, please.” I walk away quietly. Who would name a green tea “Gunpowder”? And who would want to drink that anyway?

Reason #2 – Paul went to make his coffee this morning in the lobby of the Days Inn where we stayed last night. He looks for milk to put in his coffee and, when he doesn’t find any, he says to out loud, “They serve coffee mate in all kinds of flavours. I’m looking for regular milk! There doesn’t seem to be any.” A woman hears him and, pointing to the container on the shelf advises, “Look over. There’s a big jug of milk over there for cereal!  Halllloooo!” As she and her friend walk away, her friend says, “I wouldn’t take him snake hunting!”

The United States is rough, in some places. I’m happy to be Canadian. I’m thrilled to be making my way towards those mountains.

The radio station plays 60’s music. Again, I am reminded of my youth. My dad once took me to see Diana Ross and The Supremes. I remember how excited he was when he brought home the tickets, and, though I don’t remember the whole evening, I do remember feeling appreciative of his gesture to be with me at the concert.
I’m thinking of my dad today, and how we become who we are because of those early influences in our lives. My dad died 14 years ago, and he still remains a presence in the way I chose to live. My dad was a gentle, loving soul. He found solace in his spiritual expression and sought opportunity to connect, in his own way, with God. He was meek and afraid and determined, and never really felt satisfied in what he was doing. He worked hard, waiting for the time when he could retire and ‘enjoy life’. He died before that was able to happen.

During the last workshop I facilitated with teacher candidates a few weeks ago they made mention of host teachers who they found to be rigid and cold. They question then, the pedagogical advantages of ‘teaching the whole child’, which emphasizes compassion, a more gentle approach, and focuses on developing trust, active participation and inclusion in a classroom instead of strict and conforming culture. Our discussion led to the idea that, as we develop critical thinking abilities, we learn what to accept and adopt into our practises and what to let go. It’s a little bit of knowing what not to do!

As I live my life and appreciate each day while mindfully nurturing my relationships, I think about my dad and how he wanted to live. He talked about living a ‘free’ life. 
Even though he was paranoid and suspicious about others, his fears never prevented him from seeking universal love. He had compassion and interest and a strong sense of adventure; all of which he never got to actualize. So much of what I do in my life, I think, is inspired by his dreams. 

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