A Deep and Loving Bow To My Cousins, Their Friends (mine too now) and the Canarians
All Good Things Must End
All good things must end. And my big hope is that I now and forever treasure precious moments as they unfold — not just later in retrospect. This reminder came from an article my son sent me last week about a pro-cycling race and the author’s commentary. (Cycling is one of his passions.) What I gleaned from it was how often we live in the future — do this so next year will be better — or in the past — why did I do this? If only.
Imagine recognizing an adventure of a lifetime as it is actually happening. You revel in the moment as a significant event in your life unfolds. That was the thrust of the article, and that’s what I want to do.
For instance: that particular morning after the thunder and lightning scared you half to death, and you woke later to blue skies, fresh air, sunshine, and rainbows — lasting only seconds, only in the mist — as waves landed on the shore. And that unadulterated joy rose from somewhere, and you were so very grateful to be alive.
Or when you get to spend a month of long, lingering days with your cousin, who was your best friend as kids — along with other beloved cousins and friends. Now that you are almost 80 and he is 82, you recognize it has been decades since you had this kind of moodling time together. You understand that one of you will die first. And you are grateful he made this time happen while you are both still alive. You are amazed at the depth of common history you share.
This past month has been extraordinary.
The people, the setting, the sense that — even though the world appears to be on shaky ground and you are on an island formed by volcanoes that could come alive again — the ground you walked on every day felt steady under your feet. The people on that island were kind, friendly, joyful, and radiated aliveness. No one was rushing, not even the baristas and servers in our favourite coffee shop. They kindly said things like, “I will get to you as soon as I can. We are always busy in the morning.” No one complained. Coffee was served on island time and lasted maybe 90 minutes. Not in and out to grab and go. Time for a chuckle, or to smile at a baby.
At this very moment, I am with one of those wonderful cousins and our now-mutual friend in Lisbon. We are staying overnight before a flight to Montreal in the morning, and from there we go to different parts of Canada.
Good night
I will say goodnight and savour this special moment — going to sleep in Portugal tonight and tomorrow night back home in Ottawa. How great is that? I have a few more things I want to share from Tenerife, and I’ll do that bit by bit over the next few weeks.
May you all cherish once-in-a-lifetime moments. They never happen again; they can never be repeated. And the wonderful thing about this Japanese wisdom — referred to as ichigo ichie — is that it is mostly not about spectacular events. Rather, it is about the tiny everyday moments of our ordinary lives. It would seldom be an amazing trip to Tenerife with your favourite cousins. But since that too happened to me, I want to celebrate it and thank my cousins from the bottom of my heart for the most wondrous opportunity. The trip itself sounds grand — as it was — but the most important parts were the daily strolls (more like hikes) up steep hills and along the sea wall. The morning coffee, the spontaneous chats, the intake of breath at the light, the volcanic mountains, the colours, the date palms and banana trees, the birdsong, the history, geography, and political discoveries, family lore, food, wine, and laughter.
Above all, the deepest sense of gratitude — for our mothers, fathers, siblings, mentors, kids, grandkids, and friends, and for all the wonderful Canarians who felt like friends by the time we said goodbye this morning.
May we never forget that this world has been around for millennia, and it is always worthwhile to do our small part to leave it a little better — with no illusion that we know best. We just do our part, where we are, with what we have. And we notice the beauty — not just the awesome blockbuster sunsets, waves, and sky, but the overlooked ice flower, the baby lizard scurrying along the path, the changing colours on the sides of the mountain, and how fortunate we are simply to be alive.
Notes
- Photos: Banner photo is the Teide Observatory, managed by the Canary Islands Institute of Astrophysics, an institution which contributes to science with an average of one scientific publication daily. An interesting fact is that it was discovered that the Sun has its own frequency and that it beats, like a heart, every five minutes.
- I took this photo on the side of the road as we drove up the mountain.It consists of distinct, colorful layers of volcanic ash and rock from various volcanic eruptions on the island.
- This tree is a centuries-old specimen located in the Plaza de San Francisco (Saint Francis Square) in the old part of Santa Cruz. It is a species of Ficus, likely a banyan tree such as Ficus microcarpa, known for its extensive aerial roots and buttress roots visible above the ground.
- Finally, the plant, known as a Common Iceplant, is native to coastal North Africa.It caught my eye during an evening stroll shortly after a downpour.
- Thank you. Thank you for all of your kind notes since I have been away. I am now happy to return and look at my old life with fresh eyes. Lucky me to have a life I look forward to returning to. All of you, dear people, contribute mightily to that great sense of aliveness I experience. A deep bow to you all. With appreciation, and I will see you next week. Warmly, Trudy
What a lovely post that warmed my afternoon by reading it Trudy. Thank you. And safe travels to you tonight.
Thank you Julie, for your kind note. Wishing you a beautiful spring, wherever you are. Warmly,Trudy
Trudy, your joy and deep gratitude seemed to leap off the page and into my heart. Thank YOU! I’m delighted that you had such a life-giving adventure. What a gift! Thank you for sharing it with us. Love to you!
Thank you Carol for your thoughtful note. You are such a cheerleader, over the years and the miles. May you have a special Easter week. Warmly, Trudy
Looking forward to having you back dear Trudy. Thank you for sharing your journey’s highlights and insights with us – vicarious travel is next best thing to the real 🙂 much love xoxo
Thanks dear Janice, my poet friend. I am home and hopeful as the remaining snow melts and the ice rain got interrupted. Yeah!See you soon. Warmly, Trudy
What a beautiful post, such presence is so delightful, to be in the moment is to truly feel alive! What a wonderful journey you have taken to a destination, both outward and within.
Thanks you Cheryl. It is kind of you to send a note and I hope my note finds you flourishing in the good work that you do. Warmly, Trudy
Dear Trudy, you write: “I am now happy to return and look at my old life with fresh eyes. Lucky me to have a life I look forward to returning to. All of you, dear people, contribute mightily to that great sense of aliveness I experience. A deep bow to you all…” – deep bow back. You also contribute mightily to my great sense of aliveness;-)
Big hug
Sabine
Thanks you dear Sabine. May you continue for a long time casting your warm smiles along your path. You cheer us all up. Warmly, Trudy