Sunday, September 18, 2005
Gifts of Joy and Goodness
Gifts of Joy and Goodness
Full moon on the four-week anniversary brings pause to reflect on a week’s recovery and further preparations for the bigger party of 200 caterers allaying fears of food shortages for us and the Scott Mission too. The spread covered the waterfront and 3 ping pong tables; every chair in the community centre was deployed to hold co-workers teammates family members church-goers dates and the community-at-large. A team of Leah’s minions winged busy shadows scurrying about the building bringing in booze and AV equipment, white lights and pretty homemade things – fabrics draped and dazzling, shaming Sistine. Two by four the guests arrived while we held court, new and farther away friends and long lost cousins, Kyle hiding behind me with a cup full-a-pop begging to be tipped up-side-down, awkward hugs spraying sisters, but this just a sideshow on the way to outdoor basketball in which I was outshined by a five-year-old, naturally. You were an orange glow outrageous and overwhelmed (as was I) by the multitudes of angels drinking our cupfuls of blessings, from every cranny-nook of our separate lives and then the one we merged in a sea of orange, here’s to a growing community, here’s to honest activism, here’s to ethnic ties, faith and diversity, here’s to long-distance transportation and the connections it gives, here’s to the new ones and those who have been there all along - Everyone please stand up. Whether we know you through work or play, family or faith; whether we have known you since birth or have just met you; whether you live far or near; whether we see you often or scarcely; you are our community and we love you all. It means the world to us to have you here today. It meant the world sparkled and we let it shine for us over the modern-day specter of child-porn, bedazzling and blinding us of such tragedies leaving only the innocence of the Finnish kids’ sauna and a loving oppressive mother’s good-time games, and rediscovered joy overtaking stoicism with rambling arched out wild Elvis Costello dances. So let’s dance (to the right, up, to the left, up, swivel hip forward pull it up pull it up raise the roof strike a pose now 24 more bars to go till freestyle).
After the cleaning binges and inundation of uncles mothers father brother and maybe soon-to-be sister-in-law(once-removed) and competing 5-course dinners showing travel lessons learned skills acquired etc, and the arrival of the heralded giant of the south to much celebration we were able to enjoy such things as antiquing by the food fair and sitting in a shower of stuff beautiful hand-made things and fancy glassware too nice for the hovels of humanity in which we dwell with leaky holes rampant weeds and careless others untrained for handling such niceties or appreciating the beauty of those who want to love us somehow and give us beauty of our own to own. These things draw more awe than even the greatest talents observable by my fan-club on a Tier 4 Toronto soccer team yet they are less than the joy of dinner-time conversations on abortion or the impacts of political (in)differences on intimate relationships, the content of which is nothing to the fact of two families united by companions who choose reconciliation and community-building over prevailing dominion over the curses of the gods, and good wine and food, and that they came so far to celebrate this just one time.
These things I remember sitting around my office, sadly saying seeyasoon to two furry clan-members before settling in to enjoy the journeys to places we long for though not so much the place as the people the experience excitement of difference newness diverse variety and such, all through the magic of visual technology which satisfies yet appetizes whets tummy butter-flies in circles bringing us back to old desires to do new things, and these things I want to do with you: discover truth in history like Cousin Tom’s beautiful gift to us of my mother’s mother’s mother’s history of her hands and similar family-lines in a Finnish rug about stuck-in-Sweden refugees pining toward a north-star home, much like how he’s persevered in love through tough times and found joy in an unexpected life; discover truth in history regaled in tales of rugs and mother’s tongues and grandmothers far-back memories and recantation skills; discover truth in history that is not doomed to be repeated because things are always changing yet cooperating truth of history with ingenuity we within society can find justice and health and make it last. So now that we’ve been pushed off celebrated and given gifts of joy and goodness, let’s get going – we’re already on our way.
But, to digrees, you seem to forget that I've seen you play basketball, I know what you
can('t) do, and I have an encyclopedia of your on-court (but not in-court) weaknesses.