Breathe Deep This Moment And Give Thanks

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Alberta, being present, Calgary, Diana Schwenk, Hump Day Chronicles, life, living in the moment, Observer, people watching, summer

A MAGPIE STANDS ITS GROUND EVEN AS I pass within a foot of the table he’s perched upon – the very table I want to sit at.

Instead, I choose the next table. It’s not bad here; a tree to my right provides cool shade in one of my favourite Calgary parks. I set out my note-book and pen, ready to write what I observe and imagine, an exercise to help me be present in the moment.

Across the way, a middle-aged man sets down his groceries, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He sits and looks up to the sky while taking a long, slow drag. I wonder if he stops here often – a break of sorts before heading home.

A young boy rides his bike around the park while his watching mother, seated on a bench chats on her phone. He stops to say hi to me, beaming with an ear-to-ear grin. Moments later, he crashes and mom comes running to help him up, comfort him and convince him to get back on his bike.

Across the way, the smoking man glances my way. His hands on his knees, his brows knit together when we make eye contact and he turns away, seemingly in deep thought. Perhaps like me, he’s wondering where the time has gone; when did he get so old.

A boy and a man divided by decades in age.

Is either one aware that now is all there is?

That longing for the past or being anxious about the future robs them of this moment potentially ripe with joy? 

That they would be wise, as would I, to breathe deep this moment and give thanks?

The Smoking Man

A mother comforts her son

A boy rides his bike

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

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Are You ‘The Talker’ or ‘The Observer’?

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Alberta, Bold, Calgary, Canada, community, Diana Schwenk, Fear, growing up, Hump Day Chronicles, living in the moment, memories, Observer, shy, Talker, Tourist in my own city

When you put yourself out there, you never know who you might meet

It’s hard for even me to grasp that I used to shy away from people and was so afraid of doing something – anything – wrong. Those of you who know me personally are probably laughing out loud at this point, but it’s true!

In grade 1 I was so afraid I would lose my house key that I was forever losing my house key.

In grade 3 when Mrs. Carpentier asked me to knock on another classroom’s door and ask the teacher for a pen, I cried.

In grade 4, when our bus broke down coming back from a field trip, Mr. Whittal had to sit with, and comfort me because I was afraid of getting home late.

My daughter Michaela has never seen that side of me. By the time she was born, I was all about trying things and not being embarrassed when they did not quite work out. And I was always talking with strangers; either I’d approach them, or they’d approach me. The then teenaged Michaela would say, “Stop flirting with people Mom!”

“I’m not flirting, I’m just being nice,” I’d respond.

People seem to ‘get my number’ right away too. Not long after I started working at Oxford House, my co-worker Tracey suggested that I go ask someone something we both wanted to know because, “I’m the Observer and you’re the Talker, Diana.”

This past Saturday on the way to my regularly scheduled kaffeklatsch with my BFF, I came upon the people in the above photo. Well as you know by now – I just had to talk with them and get their photo.  Turns out they were promoting some kind of week-long cartoon festival. So that I could be in the photo, a random stranger offered to take the picture.

~ HUMP DAY CHRONICLES ~

How about you? Are you a Talker or Observer?