Off the Hook

Setting:
At home. One load of laundry is washing. Kitchen is clean. Cat is fast asleep and stretched out on my bed. Sunshine streams through my window. A vanilla latte sits by my deskside. M. Ward plays in the background.

This is the vacation day that I've been dreaming about. Being at home and doing lots of ordinary things. I wouldn't enjoy this every day but I'm certainly enjoying it now. Life has been hectic and tiring and stressful lately but today is none of those things.

On Tuesday, I got back from a whirlwind trip to B.C. Eli and I left last Wednesday and drove all day and part of the night to get to Kaslo to visit with L. and J. and meet up with G. and R. Wednesday evening we all sat around the fire nestled by the lake and caught up on everything we've been up to for the last little while. Then, Thursday morning, Eli, G., R., and myself piled into the car and drove to Shambhala. We arrived in the afternoon and sat in a 7-hour lineup waiting for them to let us in. The lineup was long, very very long, but we were lucky to have good company and it passed quicker than it might have otherwise.

Describing Shambhala is difficult. It's approximately 10,000 people gathered together for different reasons. For some people it's a spiritual experience and they spend the weekend meditating, dancing, and connecting with others; for some people it's just a big rave that includes excessive drug use and hedonism; for some people it's a camping trip with friends; for some people it's a music festival and they come to see specific acts; and for some people it's a combination of all of these things.

For me, this year was less about going crazy and more about connecting with others. I spent most of the time deep in conversation with good friends and people that I've wanted to get to know better. It wasn't a high-energy, ecstatic adventure this year but that isn't what I was really looking for either. Some of my best memories from the weekend include long talks on the beach with friends who I got to know in a deeper way than I ever had before.

Leonard Cohen has a poem called S.O.S 1995 where he says:

"Whoever is in your life,
those who harm you,
those who help you;
those whom you know
and those whom you do not know -
let them off the hook,
help them off the hook.
Recognize the hook."

That excerpt swirled around my head at Shambhala. For me, that is the spirit of Shambhala. So when I crossed paths with someone from my past, I let him off the hook. He might not have known that I did, but I did. Our real conversation was pretty mundane but the conversation in my head said "You are off the hook. Roar, pounce and be happy" and I imagined him saying the same to me. He might not have, but I imagined he did.

Eli and I also had moments of deep connection that reassured me that we are heading in the right direction together. We talked excitedly about the future, imagining what our life is going to be like in a couple months. We talked about the conflicting feelings we were feeling about leaving. Excitement and anticipation for new people and places and things contrasted with sadness and longing for the old.

Now that I'm back, leaving seems like it is right around the corner. One month and a little bit and we'll be gone. My condo is going up for sale in a couple of days and I'm starting to decide what things I'll take and what things I'll leave. We're making lists of tasks that have to be completed and the number of items on them seem a bit overwhelming. Still, everytime I feel my pulse rush or my heart beat faster I remind myself that I'm not doing it alone and I feel better.

A partner in crime is nice. A partner in life is even better.