High density…

I am not a beggar Sir,

I am a performer…

And what has happened to your audience tonight???

The archer’s gloved hand cuts through the darkness that is all around them,

save for the glow of his lantern…

They have gone home…

And you should have as well…

Very resourceful for a country man to have remained in the city all this time…

The poor man is ordered to stand up…

He can no longer hide the little girl…

She squirms out of his coat…

Noticing the child,

the archer dismounts…

— in Bride of New France by Suzanne Desrochers

I don’t know,

how many times,

I’ve heard people say,

I wish I had,

your memory…

As always,

it is an important reminder,

in most cases,

to be careful,

what you wish for…

No different,

than words,

a memory like mine,

holds both,

the locks,

and the keys,

of a re-member-ing,

that is a choice,

with which,

to work,

and like the road,

to the NHL,

and a Stanley Cup,

it isn’t meant,

to be easy,

even if,

I so wish,

it were…

Yesterday,

I had the privilege,

of planning for,

and supervising,

a play date,

between two young thoroughbreds…

I’d learned a few things,

from the experience,

with them,

the time before,

that made this meeting,

so much better,

for everyone,

as the charge,

of collective anxiety,

grounded itself,

into the mud,

outside the arena…

I led,

the dark bay gelding,

out first,

giving him a chance,

to buck,

and roll around,

with his blanket off…

Then I tethered him,

while I brought out,

the younger chestnut mare,

and worked through,

the tension,

in her neck,

and jaw…

The thing,

I’m learning,

about a herd,

of horses is,

if and when,

you facilitate,

the release,

of a holding pattern,

in one body,

there is the potential,

to affect release,

in all the other bodies,

of the constellation…

And when all your eyes,

are open,

you can see it,

and feel it,

in the horse,

that is your teacher…

As I stood,

with my hand wrapped,

around the lower gums,

of one horse,

stretching,

and rolling,

her tongue around,

the other one,

stood licking,

and chewing,

with his head dropped,

thirty feet away…

And when I unclipped,

their leads,

to let them,

both go,

they walked off,

side by side,

as individuals,

brought together,

to have a field day,

of frolic…

On my way home,

heading west on Highway #1,

I heard Alain Vigneault,

once again,

being criticized…

This time,

for referring,

to media scrum,

as You people,

and how he ought to,

eliminate such expression,

from his vocabulary,

immediately,

as it is experienced as,

being equally pejorative,

to slurs,

which racially,

divide,

and conquer…

In my mind,

You people,

is a lot more polite,

and appropriate,

than what AV,

could,

and probably wants,

to be saying,

to a bunch of boneheaded,

ass wipes,

who make,

the professionalism,

of the Canucks’ antechamber ,

look like a rat-infested,

hole,

of misfits,

crowding,

and grabbing,

for scraps,

at the feed trough…

There,

that feels better now…

To their credit,

B-Mac and Taylor,

of the Team,

elevated themselves,

by facilitating,

a fantastic dialogue,

on the use of spiritual references,

by players and Wally Buono,

in the N and CFL,

which blew any,

doctoral level seminar conversation,

I’ve ever been witness to,

right out,

of the water…

And for that,

and other things,

I was beside,

myself…

This weekend,

I saw a smile,

on my daughter’s face,

that told a story,

of all that is dear,

which she holds,

inside…

And in the car,

all the way along,

the inlet,

I drove,

well below,

the speed limit,

on purpose…

I asked Little Gem,

if she could describe,

her feeling,

and at nine years old,

she said,

The stomachache I had,

is almost gone…

I’ve been waiting,

to meet someone,

for almost,

my whole life,

and today,

I almost,

can’t believe,

it finally happened…

And for that,

my friend,

I will keep on,

walking,

as transparent,

as I can,

manage,

to be,

in my memory boots…