Back for some tea this time around - another 24 hours and I'll be heading home. It's been a full week and last night I was completely exhausted. I could have easily fallen asleep by ten but ended up till 1am. So here I sit in Osborne Village watching traffic, people, and snow melting. This locale is actually quite roomy, seems relaxed, but interestingly most of the patrons at least at this time of day are middle-agers. I guess all the young adult types have jobs or are at university or college.
The apt maxim on my recycled cup states that, "A very bad (and all too common) way to misread a newspaper: to see whatever supports your point of view as fact, and anything that contradicts your point of view as bias." History is a curious thing isn't it? When I took Canadian History back in the 80s, Louis Riel was a traitor and mad man - now he's the founder of Manitoba and represents Metis people like he was their king. What changed? Did we reinterpret history to meet our societal beliefs or was my history book wrong? Or was my text book actually propaganda?
Our postmodern society questions everything, and I as an academic ask questions for a living. I deconstruct everything in my field of study and consistently explore new ways of learning, new ways of understanding faith, new ways of being community, etc. Sometimes we need to clear the table and start fresh! Some view that as dangerous but I see no other way to make ones' faith legitimate.
The Hip wail in my ears, "Don't tell me what the poets are doing..." and song grooves on as I tap my foot in sync with the snare. Who are the poets? Are they musical prophets - reflecting a unique perspective on their corner of life? Some are apt, some are stoned, some nail the truth to the wall for all too see! Chaos doesn't always breed chaos but stormy weather brings us to our knees in search of Shalom.
"Maybe....you gonna be the one that saves me....and after all - you're my wonderwall"- we all need a lifeboat at times in our storms eh? The storm rages on...and we search for hope, for land, for safe passage. The joy of a setting sun on a lake of glass reflecting the colors of light. I take a deep sip of latte as Dylan speaks brilliance into my ears, "today's the day, gonna grab my tumbled blues...thunder on the mountain."
A guy cracks a smile and laughs out loud as he grabs his laptop & refocuses on a document on his iBook. The barista swoops in and organizes some newspapers near the fireplace. Back home, my wife Wendy & our daughters are probably enjoying a lazy morning of breakfast, cartoons, or playing some games. I pass the time writing my musings of randoms as my iPod shuffles on. Time for some 80's U2...
Weird how timeless their music is for me...doesn't feel dated at all but still brings me back to another place. Even their weak songs are better than what anything the radio plays these days. You know when Bono croons about love he means it fully. Time ticks on in the lonely coffee shop...
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