Category Archives: Spirituality

The Eye of the Storm

You know that feeling at a restaurant when you see your food leave the kitchen and there’s that gap in time before it gets to your table? It’s an odd feeling, right? All you can think of is,

“That’s my food! That’s it! I SHALL BE EATING THAT!”

But your brain has to correct itself and go,

“Woah there cowboy. It’s not here yet. Just sit tight and act cool. Pretend to look at the martini collection or something.”

So you end up just sitting there looking anywhere but the server’s eyes, waiting for the last second to turn and be startled with joy at the arrived meal, as if eye contact would ruin the taste.

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Dan Mangan in Vancouver

One of my favourite parts of Vancouver is its rich musical roots. Only a city with a diversified pool of talent like ours could produce Michael Bublé and Bryan Adams, Sarah McLachlan and Mark Donnelly. And if you don’t know who Mark Donnelly is, watch a Canucks game. His voice will take your mind off the fact that we’ve never won a cup. So it was a huge treat when I discovered Dan Mangan, a nestled Canadian treasure hidden in the troves of Vancouver humbleness. Dan and his album “Nice, Nice, Very Nice” changed my perception of Vancouver music. He was at the musical stage of producing brilliant music, minus the mainstream, stadium-frequenting presence. He had the perfect setting for an indie, hipster musician with a dab of arrogance, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Dan was your friend who made it big. Dan was the guy who loved words, guitar and the tickled feeling in his throat when he sang just that much harder. In four words, Dan was a delight.

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What I Am Thankful For

And as Thanksgiving officially comes to a close, the glorious statutory holiday spent mostly digesting, I find myself looking back and forwards, side to side at my life. What am I thankful for? Who has gotten me here? And what was in that cranberry sauce? Seriously, 4 cups crushed cranberries shouldn’t taste like the love of Will and Rose, Forrest and Jenny, even the yellow fish from Finding Nemo and his bubbles. It was that delicious. But as the edible love of Sunday breezed into the bloated orangutan-like aura of Monday, I feel thoughts more of reflection than glazed ham, a rare occurrence for me. And I’m thinking of UBC, my life, and how everything has changed. So with that in mind, please enjoy what I’m thankful for:

I’m thankful for my room. Nothing beats a hard night of studying like the unkempt bed I strive to keep cluttered. Residence life gives people the right to be messy, and I love it. Owning a mess is a liberating feeling.

I’m thankful for the dining hall. Nowhere else could I have lamb, apple pie, soft-serve ice cream and a spicy chicken burger all in one meal. Also, nowhere else do lines go so quickly. I love swiping my UBCcard. I feel like Bill Gates buying a yacht, just putting another transaction on the card of destiny, the one card to rule them all.

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I just can’t wait for winter

That warm glow on your back. The soothing splash of an afternoon dip. The insatiable hunger for more warmth, more sunlight, more sand nestled in the nooks and crannies of one’s body only summer can find.

Ugh. Hate it.

I just can’t wait for winter. Sorry to douse the fire of this waning season, but a Vancouver summer just isn’t for me. It’s no Caribbean here, no Coastal California, no Cuba. Woah, all the hot spots start with c. That’s crazy, cuckoo, cockney, criminal! And you know what, all the cold places start with i. Bear with my nonsense, please. Please! Iceland, Iqaluit, Ireland (it’s a stretch, I know). It’s basically the coldest letter of them all. That’s why the tribble (the dot over the i) broke off. The whole letter’s an iceberg and the tribble broke away, pushing grammar climatologists to challenge the world over textual climate change. I see that you bore with my nonsense. Well done. It’s quite a lot of nonsense to bear with. It’s like the Great Pacific Garbage Patch of nonsense.

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The Move.

Ah, the day of reckoning, the final countdown, the gargantuanly supreme moment of life-altering totality.

The move out.

Or move in, I guess, but that all depends on your half-full/half-empty stance of life psychologists seem to rave about. Some see the glass half-full and some see the glass half-empty, but one idealistic genius, sarcasm semi-intended, saw millions of post-secondary minds mulling over a basic analogy for optimism and pessimism, a subject many people could have understood with a simple:

“Some people are happy. Some people are sad. That’s all folks.”

And then the Looney Tunes logo would play them out and everyone would return to life a little happier and a little smarter with a skip in their step and warmth in their heart.

But that’s not how life plays out. And that’s not what this blog should be about either.

All right, the move out. Or move in. Damn my repetitive mind!

Okay, I’ll paint the picture.

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