Beauty in the Downtown Eastside

Photos I took in DTES

Since my workplace recently moved to the Downtown Eastside (DTES), I have been contemplating beauty in this part of Vancouver. In as environmentally harsh a place as the DTES that the media exponentially portrays it to be, there are tender moments to be found.

I have experienced such moments, but wanted to observe things of beauty in this neighbourhood. Of finding, or rather seeing (i.e., witnessing) beauty in the midst of this poorest neighbourhood in all of Canada, where drug use and homelessness are rampant. Where intersecting iron or steel bars form some interesting patterns of art while protecting window panes and doors, whether commercial or housing, not to mention its occupants and contents inside.

Despite this, I knew there was a sense of community in the DTES before my work transplanted its roots there. I had witnessed it to a degree. It was events, such as a memorial walk, in the neighbourhood where I observed a strong sense of this.

This walk and its ensuing ceremony were held to commemorate the many DTES women and other women, mostly Aboriginal, who had been missing or found murdered, some along notorious Highway 16 (dubbed “Highway of Tears”), between Prince George and Prince Rupert.

As I write this, I have a recollection of an Expressive Arts Therapy instructor specializing in addictions, who shared some stories of her experiences working with people from the DTES. How they watch out for each other and help one another. You may not think that that would be the case in such an area, but it does happen.

You also may not think that, as I was walking in the area during a lunch break, I might discover an angel - yes you read that right - in my midst. And it is located relatively close to my work. Interestingly enough, I hadn’t noticed it before while walking on the other side of the street. It is as if she is guardian over the area, keeping watch over the community and its residents.

The angel is formed of various materials including some grey, gauzy flowing fabric. She hovers overhead on the side of a building facing an empty lot that is covered in grass. I wasn’t sure of the materials that made this amazing art form, but what struck my curiosity the most was how it got there in the first place! Who put it there and how?!

Never mind the why! I didn’t care much about the reason(s) why she might be there. Although I wonder if it was simply to provide some aesthetic beauty to the area. Perhaps someone who just felt inspired to do so.

Or was it simply meant to inspire others? If so, how? Could it bring even more beauty? A sense of grace or peace, or even hope? To an individual or group of people? To the community?

I was in such a state of awe, that as I was walking away, I kept looking back at her as she faded away in the distance. I suddenly turned around to face the direction I was heading in and almost bumped into a tree! (Silly me.) Though just as I turned my head, I saw a man gazing in the direction where I had just looked and then he noticed her too.

He immediately made the sign of the cross in front of his body as Christians do. His gesture in juxtaposition with the angel was a symbol or sign of beauty. This rare and precious moment felt like a gift, a treasure to behold.

At such times, a camera or videotape would be incredibly handy to record such instances. But though these touching experiences are so profound on an emotional and spiritual level that is challenging to articulate, they are also personal and intimate. I imagine it would feel extremely intrusive if I had captured this on film (if I could even do so in the first place!).

Instead, I believe my mind’s eye will remember this image as I witnessed what seemed a sense of grace, both in the physical form of the angel and of the signing of the cross.

I wonder: What else can this and other pieces of art (or moments of beauty) inspire? Especially in the DTES where it seems like it's needed the most, but also in our homes, our workplaces, our communities ... overall in our everyday lives.

How can we ensure that we see beauty? Can we see it even in the midst of chaos? Or if it is barely visible? Does it really matter? And if so, why?

Just some questions to ponder though I'm certainly open to your comments and feedback.

Till my next blog, ‘see’ you then! ; )

Lost ... and Found

For my faithful blog readers (whom I appreciate very much, thank you!), you may have wondered what happened, as you haven’t heard from me for awhile. What happened to me? Perhaps you thought that I died or that I’ve been super busy and/or had writer’s block.

Two main events occurred that prevented me from writing just over two month’s time!

One circumstance was that I changed from looking for a third roommate to share a room in a house to looking for a place to live. It took time and energy as well as with associated tasks like removing belongings from storage, and downsizing (which included donating and selling items).

December rolled along which is usually a very busy month for me. This year I attended various vocal concerts as usual, but I also baked my family's favourite traditional cookie recipe: my Mom's delicious European cookies that she usually bakes for Christmas. I decided to start the tradition by making them for Christmas gatherings and friends. My birthday then came two months to the day that I last wrote my blog.

I have an expression that I made up about myself to describe some of my passions: If I don’t sing or dance, I’m either sick or depressed.

Similarly, I sometimes can't write. It’s usually a matter of being either really busy and/or not feeling inspired. My preference is to write ‘in the flow’ when words come intuitively to me (as they often do) or through my fingers when I type (or write). When they don't, I prefer not to write.

Unfortunately, not all my writing comes from Spirit, that state of natural flow and grace (though I wish of course! That would be ideal!). Though ideas for my posts flow for the most part, I usually have to 'work' at my writing when I force a deadline upon myself.

Acquiring writer's block (if you can call it that) was the other situation that took place. I was so excited and ready to post a blog, an inspirational piece entitled ‘A Tribute to My Parents.’ Not only did the words flow easily and effortlessly across the page (that I know came from Spirit), but also did my tears flow. I really FELT what I wrote at such a deep level as I was in an incredible state of deep gratitude to my parents.

Even though I was certain I had saved this writing piece somewhere in a computer file, I realized later that I actually hadn’t because I couldn’t find it anywhere (either on my home or work computer!). Now, how frustrating is that? Have you ever experienced that? If so, you understand what I’m talking about!

Well, since I didn’t feel like rewriting it because it wouldn’t be serving the original script justice, I’ll explain the essence of it and write about something else briefly.

As I mentioned earlier, the essence of my tribute to my parents was written in a tear-filled expression of gratitude. Somewhat similar to the ‘Tribute to a Stranger’ piece that I wrote in a previous blog in terms of gratefulness but probably at least 10 times more (than that).

When I phoned my parents asking for help to find a place, my parents suggested that they pray for me asking if that was ok with me as I was looking for a place to live (detailed in a previous blog).

Essentially, they called me occasionally that month to see how I was doing and how things were going with my search for a new home. I was truly appreciative of their emotional support and their love. And, I think for the first time in my life, I really felt my parents love for me. I really got it...this time. Wow, it only took me just over half a century! ;)

To celebrate my recent birthday, I attended a powerful healing circle facilitated by an extremely gifted healer. The theme revolved around healing issues and blocks associated with money and relationships that stem from family roots, primarily parents.

For me the healing was around living my passion and not giving up on my dream and myself. Apparently I was close to fulfilling it but then got stuck or blocked. The healer spoke directly and also indirectly about patterns using the word ‘transgeneration.' She used this term specifically when addressing me and a few others in the group.

Interestingly enough, I heard bits and pieces of myself, rather pieces of my life in other people’s stories as they shared parts of their life. This was not only for my healing but the group as well. I believe we could all relate to aspects of each person’s story in the group as I did.

Part of the information that the healer shared with me was that I am a very creative person (implying that I am to use my creativity) and the importance of being vocal. When I questioned if vocal included writing, she concurred.

As often happens when I consult with intuitionists (a term I coined), they confirm what I already know. I know that aspect about myself, i.e., that I am a very creative person with an abundance of ideas (such as creating inventions). I also feel the need and desire to be vocal (namely to express myself whether through speaking, singing, and writing).

These are some modalities of how my soul wishes to express itself. How about you and your soul?

Perhaps I will share more about this in my next blog.

In the meantime, wishing you a wonderfully joyous and abundant New Year!

Home is Where the Heart is

My main issue this month was finding suitable accommodation to house me and all my stuff including furniture which I have plenty of.

I tried everything or seemingly so: looking and posting on Craigs List and Kijiji, emailing my circle of friends and acquaintances – even on a social website – and posting up ads in lower, mid, and upper Lonsdale areas of North Vancouver as I wanted to stay on the North Shore, preferably North Vancouver because that is where my ‘home’ or heart dwells. Also, because of three alternate routes (SeaBus, Second Narrows or Lions Gate Bridge) to get to work rather than one if I lived in West Vancouver.

A major drawback I had was a lack of a vehicle. Sure I’d consider living almost anywhere otherwise, as it seemed that a lot of places in North Vancouver required one as bus accessibility is quite remote (think infrequent, especially the farther out like Deep Cove or the higher up like up the mountain).

I initially had a place as early as Oct. 1st when someone responded to an ad I posted online. It was with a woman same age as I who recently moved into a new townhouse development in Deep Cove with her pets, one of my favourite cats in particular. There was a student living in one of the rooms till the spring.

Even though there seemed to be a connection via email and phone, in person there was an awkwardness the two times I met her one week apart. Perhaps it was some trepidation on both our parts, me for feeling like I would be imposing on her space with all my stuff even though she had plenty of room and storage space. The second Friday I went to see the suite again, took some measurements, and gave her a damage deposit.

However, there was a nagging feeling that persisted throughout Thanksgiving weekend, especially thinking about the possibility of a brisk 5-minute walk through dark woods (from the higher road) or a desolate road (from the lower road) and the latter relatively uphill.

A friend called me and proceeded to tell me that I didn’t sound very happy about moving (which I attributed to stress and fatigue, though I realized she was right on afterthought). Another person mentioned ‘safety’ and my mind went on red alert again. Again, thinking about the dark woods and I’m usually quite a brave person. Though walking through dark woods at age 16 many moons ago perhaps is different from doing so in these times.

Then a miracle occurred on Thanksgiving Day. I received a call from a woman whose name I recognized (but didn’t question her) about a place approximately 10 blocks south and a few blocks east of where I lived. She had recently moved into a home and was looking for a tenant to share living space with her and her son who has an intellectual disability.

Only because I had someone visit me with a car did I consider taking a look, particularly since I lost (or so I thought at the time) my bus pass and it was a wet, cold, and dark evening. On top of that, I had a bit of a sore throat.

As soon as I saw the blue home from the outside it felt like an oasis with the house and garden partially tucked in the neighbourhood in a slight curve on the road. There was instant recognition as soon as she opened the door. I had met her a number of years ago at a networking and/or workshop event(s).

I liked this woman immediately when I met her then and still do. She is an older, very creative and intuitive woman. I thought I would get along well with her and her son splendidly too. Her son was extremely sweet and kind offering me slippers as refuge from the cold floor and he was an artist to boot!

Her home was very colourful with bright painted walls and her son’s artwork. Even her kitchen was a nice blue-grey tone and there were one or two glass stained windows as well. There was even a gas fireplace.

I knew immediately when I saw the upper room that was painted a light blue that this was it! Spacious, bright, with big windows and French doors overlooking the porch and garden at back facing west and south which I preferred.

Interestingly enough she didn’t have a couch and there would be enough space to house my furniture, which was ideal. Furthermore, she hadn’t had phone/internet connection yet and I knew I could provide her with a wonderfully priced package as I had with a certain provider.

I told her ‘Yes!’ as all the walls including the chalkboard wall in her kitchen – ideal for writing poetry and songs on my end – seemed to be screaming so. She suggested we both ‘sleep on it’ and I did but knew I didn’t need to.

The next day I accidentally dialled the woman in Deep Cove to tell her that I didn’t feel right about her place, didn’t feel safe, too far, need a car (that rhymes but is true) and then phoned this other woman. Well, when I did so, I was told the news that her daughter was going to be moving back. I felt devastated as other than the single-paned windows, I loved her home and felt I would be happy there.

I missed choir rehearsal that evening and generally never do unless I’m sick. Singing can be a great distracter at times, but this time I felt I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. Usually if I can’t sing or dance, I’m either sick or depressed.

Then house #3…three being my number in life so it seems. This one came spontaneously as I phoned her in response to an ad I saw online. After awhile the ads and numbers all seem to blur as I sometimes would call the same # about a different ad or even the same one!

Though she described the place to me by phone she kept persisting that I see it. I didn’t think I would because it was a studio (bachelor) and I preferred a 1 bedroom or even a 1 bedroom plus den or 2-bedroom suite! (Remember? To house all my furniture and stuff!)

Well I decided to go see it with a friend along with another suite. One was basement level and did not have any view at all as the windows faced towards the other home or concrete wall and was too high up. An immediate ‘no’ came up for me.

Then I saw her house. As soon as I saw the beautiful red maple or Japanese tree and pine tree at front and other trees surrounding her home, garden, and neighbours, I felt ‘this was it’ (intuitively) and told my friend. It seemed like an oasis much like where I was living then as I entered the front gate with various trees greeting me.

Then when I saw the trees all around at the back lining the green, weedless yard and heard the water below, I fell in love with it even more. The suite itself was intriguing. Big double-paned windows allowing a lot of natural light to come in to a large room with a fireplace. The kitchen area and bathroom were on the other side of the main room.

The place had character as well as potential. I sensed that it could be an extremely creative place or rather, the ability to tap into my creativity. I was imagining what furniture would go where when she asked me if I would like to keep the piano, rather store it for someone for awhile. It is a beautiful wood-grained piano (not sure what kind) and a cushioned bench. I love wood not to mention trees as well...go figure!

I was ecstatic when I decided to forego my bed for this beautiful piece of furniture if I can call it that. Not only did I want to relearn the piano, I preferred to play on one too. All the keys are present with real touch (of finger pressure) and real sound too.

Wow! Was I lucky or what?!

Long story short...almost didn’t happen but I was glad to heed this woman’s intuition (as she later informed me) and me keeping in tune with my intuition as well.

A Tribute to David: Connection with a Stranger

I’ve had a lot going on in my life to deal since about end August when one of my two roommates moved out (as she was getting married.) Needless to say, there have been some miraculous moments and wonderful connections as well.

For instance, there was a native man who introduced himself to me - at the end of our conversation on the skytrain - as my favourite male name, David (which means Beloved).

He spontaneously asked me if I had children. And then proceeded to tell me to never have them be drug addicts. We started conversing and I felt such compassion for this man that my troubles though seemingly daunting, in those few minutes seemed so small.

I didn’t share my problems with him as I normally would have in past. I held my tongue for it didn’t seem the time or the matter. It seemed to be important that he speak and share his pain with me.

I saw it in his face as he tightened his jaw and clenched his teeth. I felt compelled to tell him not to grind his teeth.

It looked like he was close to tears but instead he clenched his jaw. David said, "I put on a happy face but sometimes I break down, usually when I’m alone." I told him that it is okay to be sad and cry, no matter who’s around you, we’re human. And I went on to say that I cry in public. It’s better to express it than hold it in. Then a few small tears came to both my eyes.

He was concerned that he pained me in some way. I reassured him that he didn’t, though may have picked up some of his energy of pain. I think I was so moved by his sharing that I was deeply touched. Perhaps it was because this stranger revealed to me what may be considered a deep, dark, dirty secret, an intimate confidence to some.

It may also be knowing that "we all have problems" as he said, "suffer" as I would say, "we all have our crosses to bear" as my mom would say. And that with support and love and friendship that we can get through.

Though I offered to give him a number that he could call for help, I think I would have liked to have given him a hug. I wish now that perhaps I would have asked him. As I’m typing this, big tears – this time – are rolling down my cheeks. I think I’ll say a prayer instead for him and his child (son, daughter I do not know).

The skytrain stopped, seemed stuck for some time, a few minutes, and I think we both felt something from our brief exchange. It felt like a short cleansing of some sort at least for me and maybe for him, speaking our truth, sharing our pain, showing our true selves.

He departed stating something along the lines of our next potential meeting, that we could greet each other as a friend by name. Indeed, it feels like that. That I have made a new ‘friend’, an acquaintance with someone I can now greet by name in a sea of faces.

I realized again to be grateful for what I already have. There are always people with problems seemingly worse or better than our own. However, I’m sure I wouldn’t want to exchange my problems with someone else’s. I’m grateful for this chance encounter, this meeting with a stranger, now an acquaintance.