Stick and puck…
Ohmigod!!!
My new Junior Bauer Vapours are amazing,
and so is Britannia’s Friday noon-hour stick and puck…
I had no idea that recreational hockey could be so good…
I rode up to the rink from my house,
twice,
because I forgot that I’d have to pay to play hockey…
But after two times up that hill I was all warmed up and flew onto the ice with Boston playing in my head…
Pucks were flying everywhere…
One after the other into the goal…
This made me question why it is so hard for some of those NHL players to get a puck in the net…
It made me wonder,
What part of this don’t you get????!!!!!!
Then I looked up and saw that there was no Lu in goal…
As I skated with the greatest of ease around the back of the net,
a stick and puck regular received my puck…
I fought it back…
He said,
What was that all about???
I said,
Sorry, it’s my first time here…
I don’t know the rules…
He said,
That excuse is only going to work for you today…
Then a little while later he offered some advice,
bless his heart,
with water dripping from his nose…
He said,
I was wondering why you switch hands when you handle the stick…
That is an interesting technique but it isn’t going to work very well in the long run…
And now after watching I know why…
You’re afraid of your back hand…
You just need to practice moving the puck back and forth…
But don’t be afraid of using your back hand…
I’m always open to suggestions, especially when they’re offered without arrogance …
His worked like a charm…
Remembering his words I skated round and round,
picturing a V formed by my skates,
and the stick moving the puck lightly from side to side…
Just like my legs lifting my bata de cola…
Cross-training…
One pointed attention on right now…
At the side of the rink I took a moment to stretch out my aching shins…
An old-timer with a mouth-guard asked me if I was okay…
I said,
I’m great but this is my first time on the ice this season,
and my first time in these skates…
He walked into the box and put his gloved hand on my shoulder like I really belonged,
and said,
Good for you…
You’re going to do great!!!
Who needs psychotherapy when you can go to stick and puck at your local rink…
For $5.50 an hour this is VERY good value…
I mentally booked myself in for another session next week…
Mr. Self-Appointed Coach came around later for some passing practice,
and a comment,
See you’re gettin’ the hang of it…
And when the hour of ice-time was up my old-timer pulled his kit across the rink,
gave me a wink just like St. Nick and said,
Keep it up!!!
No spitting, no belching, no nice tits, no thatta’ girl,
just good old gentlemanly fun and encouragement…
I left with great impressions,
and a gentle shift in consciousness…
Smells like teen spirit...
Surfing USA…
When you’re a teacher,
in the public sense of the word
the school year,
can be experienced,
as THE ride,
of your life…
Not the Disney World,
or Knott’s Berry Farm kind,
but the old fashioned,
rickety wooden ones,
that you can only find in places,
next to,
Empire Stadium…
The ride begins,
in the last two weeks of August…
The feeling in your gut is just like,
when you’re lining up,
but haven’t yet found your place,
in the cart…
You know you have to do it,
but you’re not really sure if it’s a good idea,
because your sciatica’s acting up…
But once you’re in line,
you can’t back out,
and then you’re at the point when you have to jump on,
and the only cart free,
is at the very front,
or the very back,
with is no mid-point available…
So you just get take your seat,
with no looking back…
The bar locks in place,
and the caterpillar,
begins its ascent…
And then depending,
on how you move,
through the world,
you either suck in your breath,
howl,
or do both …
There are the jerky corners,
the sudden up and downs,
the straight-aways,
flying up out of your seat,
and slamming back down,
whiplash,
jolts,
swerves,
false starts,
and those blissful moments,
of some smooth sailing…
Some people think that teachers have it made,
with ALL those holidays…
Those are the same people who can’t spend more than an hour,
with their own children,
without losing their minds…
These kinds of people don’t realize,
that teachers NEED all,
of those holidays,
and more,
to recharge,
and recover,
from what can be amazing experience,
when done well,
but can also burn out batteries,
because in teacher-training,
and on the job,
we are never offered any guidance,
or support,
with energy management…
I have a lot of energy…
People around me can feel it…
My children feel it…
The body workers I go to have commented,
on the volume,
and momentum of energy,
I hold,
and move,
in my body,
and theirs…
I definitely know that there is,
more than enough energy to go around,
but I have only recently learned,
how to keep to keep some,
for myself…
I now know that I can never go back to working as an educator,
in the institution,
in the same way…
And I also now know how critical,
that time away is,
for de-schooling,
the system…
It always takes a few weeks into July,
to realize that you don’t have to eat,
and pee,
by the buzzer…
I am now onto my fifth year,
of super-clearing out,
old frequencies,
and strengthening my sensitivities…
And I’m into my third year,
of using the toilet,
when I need to,
not when someone else tells me,
You can go now…
Anyone who is serious about hockey,
should take this information,
under advisement…
Listen to your body,
and learn,
when to push,
and when to hold back…
And know that a little,
can go a long way,
when you’re non-doing…
Last Monday,
Starshine and Little Gem came home from school,
and when they asked,
their usual question,
Mama,
what did you do today?
I got to say,
I went for dim sum at the Golden Phoenix,
and I bought my FIRST pair,
of hockey skates…
La kookaracha, scurries up and scurries down...
Of course,
I walked into Mainland Athletics,
with a belly full of shrimp,
and no intention of buying anything,
but walked out with a perfect fit,
and their last pair of Junior Bauer Vapours,
on sale…
The owner of this family operation,
Adam Naidu,
told me that these skates would do me well,
for at least a couple of years…
I give them,
until 2012…
Undressing defences…
Do you ever wonder who you are???
Who you REALLY are???
This morning I sat in the ON MAIN gallery,
for an hour,
listening to Dana Claxton talk about her new show The Barbarian…
The Barbarian is a Caucasian man,
and apparently,
according to Claxton,
he is a northern nature boy,
and a paramedic in ‘real life’…
In the course of three photographs throughout which he is holding a Norwhal tusk,
the Barbarian’s layers of Yaletown armour are peeled off until he is standing naked,
or should I say nude…
Apparently there is great discussion about the difference between nudity and nakedness…
I’m not sure why it matters…
As far as I’m concerned,
if I’m nude I’m naked,
and if I’m naked I’m nude,
in both cases my clothes are off…
It isn’t complicated,
the only difference is how others look at me,
in an act objectification…
Dana Claxton,
of Lakota descent,
is a well-known,
and established,
Canadian female artist and scholar,
working in photography and new media…
The title for this piece came out of hearing the questions,
and misinformation,
about indigenous people,
in conversation with this man,
and his buddies…
And her own inquiry,
into the question,
of whether we can BECOME,
Indian…
I wonder about this myself,
especially as I sit in,
the perennial question of,
Who AM I???
This question has made itself heard many times in my life…
Last year it was time to renew the mortgage on my house…
As I was a student,
and didn’t have income or solid evidence of future employment,
the credit union where I had my existing mortgage,
saw me as a liability…
The fact that I’d had dreams of financial prosperity,
and employment opportunity,
didn’t hold water in a place based on numbers and facts…
The posters on the wall co-opted the language of spirit,
but it wasn’t embodied in the institution…
Walking into the downtown branch was the equivalent,
of walking,
into a meat locker…
I experienced the panic and fear,
that one would associate with the actual threat,
of loss and displacement…
After a day of hard crying,
self-doubt,
and wondering where this jog in the road,
was leading,
I walked up the street in my shorts,
flip flops,
and a pony-tail,
with the simple intention of setting up a meeting,
with the mortgage and loans officer,
at my neighbourhood credit union,
for tomorrow…
Ten minutes later I walked out with a line of credit,
at prime,
and enough to pay out my existing mortgage,
settle some debts,
and live for two years…
I asked Crystal how it was possible,
that all this,
could happen,
so quickly,
when another bank with which I’d had a history,
of consistent reputation,
was now scared to look at me…
She said,
When I look at you,
I can tell that you are going to do very well…
I looked down at myself,
to see whether I was nude,
or naked…
The next week I went to sign all of the papers,
in front of the credit union’s lawyer,
so that he could witness that I really am,
who I say I am…
Crystal met me at the door,
as I walked into the building,
and introduced me to the suit,
and tie…
And as we all walked to Crystal’s desk he asked me,
under his breath,
So what are you studying?
I said,
Philosophy of Education…
He said,
Interesting…
I said,
to answer the question mark,
he didn’t need to say,
I’m writing about what children know,
and adults forget…
And how we become so negated and normalized into compliance,
by school,
that we lose all connection,
with who we really are…
He said,
I have young children…
I know exactly what you are talking about…
A few minutes later,
after all of the signatures were in place,
the lawyer got up to leave…
He shook my hand saying,
Good luck with your studies…
You need to keep talking about these things…
And then he walked out of the building,
in a ball of light…
I asked Crystal,
How did he know I was studying…
Did you tell him???
No,
she said,
I didn’t tell him anything…
This paper holds all the information he would have about you…
We looked on the paper,
and all it said was,
Teacher…
Philosophydoll’s Special Grilled Cheese,
for a rainy Thursday…
Fresh sliced Sourdough from the Swiss Bakery on 3rd @ Main
Rings of sweet white onions
Rugged Coastal Cheddar from Costco
A cast iron frying pan with a smear of bacon fat from the night before…
Assemble sandwich, place in pan, cook, eat, weep,
with garlic dill pickles…
And be very grateful for everything…
Like loan managers who see that you’re going to do very well…
And lawyers who tell you that you need to keep talking about these things…
Canuck'd 