02:16 - 01.03.08
Crowds
One of the odd things that happened during that star chart dream a couple of days ago, was the physical manifestation that came with it. There was a band of pressure at around GB 39 (acupressure point near the outer ankle)that intensified as the dream "me" worked out those mathematical formulae. At one point, it almost felt as though the bone would actually fracture across it's width. I consciously "paused" the dream sequence, so that I could sit up to check which cat(s) was responsible for the weirdness. There weren't any of the felines even present in my room at the time; another oddity all in itself. Even though I was semi-conscious by then, I could still feel the pressure. It was as though an external entity was trying to help with healing me. Maybe the star chart exercise wasn't about that "dream infant"; maybe it was about my own body. That lead to some confusing questions about what was occurring with my own body, so I returned to that dream in progress hoping for some answers there.
This morning, about half an hour before I needed to get up to prepare to travel back to number four son's home, I awoke to find that my body was on the precipice of vomiting vigourously. Bleagh. Decided to just lie quietly, waiting for the spasms to pass. It wasn't the feeling one gets when one has the flu, you see. It was as though this manifestation arose from that dream acupressure session the night previous. When I checked my acupressure manuals tonight and further researched them on the net, it appeared that the pressure points activated are those that help heal abdominal/stomach problems. I have had an upset stomach for some time, but just assumed it was the stress from the financial implosion/lack of a paying job. Sigh. Guess the mental distress, had become physical too. Seems there is an angel of some sort who has "got my back". Maybe they can help with the source of the problem too, if I ask nicely. Never know.
As it turned out I felt fine by the scheduled 5:30 am rising time, so I rolled out of bed and out of the house about 45 minutes later. I actually found I had a lot of energy - lack of sleep notwithstanding - and also had a very positive sense of "rightness" about the day. What a difference a day makes too, with respect to travelling. It was slightly cooler, but the bus was on time. The driver, of a Sikh persuasion, was singing softly as I boarded. He had a beautiful voice. Arrived at the train station in time to catch that earlier train. Watched the sun rise as we travelled toward downtown. Oh happy day, indeed. Another male of the Sikh persuasion sat across from me on that journey. There was something about him that caught my attention, although I couldn't really explain it. From my studies of Eastern healing systems I learned that some of their doctors read auras as a tool to diagnose and determine what treatment to use with an individual patient. What I sensed with him, was that this fellow traveller had that ability. He seemed to be aware of something with respect to my aura, that I was not. I wondered if that dream healer had drawn us to the same space and time. If so, for what purpose. Maybe I was just still caught in that dream state, without really being aware of it. Hmmm, ommmm mane padme hummmm.
Travelled over to the next bus stop for that last leg of the journey. Really cool bus driver for that portion of the trip. He was likely a decade older than me. He seemed intent on establishing a positive personal connection with each person who stepped into his domain. He had one of those voices that makes you feel safe and valued both at the same time. His comment "Happy Friday!" perked up a lot of dour looking faces as they boarded along the route. It was also apparent he was one of those special drivers who took a personal interest in any one even close to being a regular passenger. At the top of the hill and off toward the foothills that comprise the northern border of this city, an older gentleman using two canes to help him walk thanked the driver for kneeling the bus so he could enter more easily. The driver commented about a change to the passenger's canes and footwear, asking if they improved the traveller's mobility and comfort. The traveller was very pleased by the care and concern being expressed about his welfare. He said something about that being the result of a hearing about his benefits. That was apparently something the two of them had discussed on earlier trips, because the driver asked how that tribunal was progressing. From some of the comments they traded, it appears that the older man had been in or attached to, the Canadian navy during the Korean war as a support worker. He had been injured in the line of his duties, but was being denied benefits because of some technicality about his classification or designation at that time. The driver noted his Dad had been a medic on a hospital ship of some description, travelling in the Atlantic during part of WW II, as well as the Korean offensive. He said his father had experienced shelling at sea at the hands of the Germans and so had heard stories similar to the bus passenger's about his Dad's patients' injuries during his youth. The two swapped stories of those experiences. The older man said he felt sorry for all the military personnel on both sides of any armed conflict, for having being subjected to such traumatic experiences. The two concurred that war was an evil that neither felt was necessary. The older man raised the issue of Afghanistan in that context, just as we reached my bus stop. I was really tempted to remain on the bus for the loop back to that point, just to hear what they had to say about that controversial involvement of the current Canadian military. As you know dear diary, I hold very strong opinions about the issue, but I also know that since I haven't had any practical on the ground experience in the military, part of my position is weak. I wanted to hear why two men of a military background thought the choices being made by our government were inappropriate. Maybe there was an entirely different perspective that I needed to consider and understand before taking a position myself. However, my grandson needed my presence, so off I hopped when the wheels of the bus stopped for me.
The sun was about 5 degress above the horizon when I started walking toward my son's home. Joyous birdsong surrounded me the entire journey on foot. Because there had been significant snow melt compared to the day before, I could concentrate on trying to identify the species singing rather than watching my every footstep in case of risk of a fall. My grandson was feeling better, but it was obvious my daughter-in-law was not feeling at all well. I felt as though it might have been better if I had decided to stay home, so that she would have had good reason not to go into work. Pregnancy is not a great time to develop additional health problems. She left reluctantly about 45 minutes later, obviously craving to stay and cuddle with her little guy instead. I felt really badly for her, recalling days like that of my own. Our society hates Mothers and caregivers, despite what they say otherwise. Sigh. I searched out the Winnie the Pooh dvd that my grandson had wanted the day before. He was soon singing along with the song. He apparently was quite startled that I knew the words and was singing along as well. How did I do that? He doesn't know that Winnie the Pooh was my number two son's favourite stuffed toy when he was small. I sang that song for him constantly. Slipped on "Prisoner of Azkaban" after that, because my grandson seemed too distracted to listen to me actually read from our Harry Potter book today. Have to adjust one's plans to meet the needs of the child right? He liked the scene when Harry was riding on the "Knight bus". Reminds me of some of my own journeys on buses - although today's was a very pleasant experience. Fed him, then tucked him up for his nap. I chose to nap too, in the bedroom one over, so I could hear if he fussed. Rose about an hour later and was just starting to tidy up when my daughter-in-law walked in the door. He boss had sent her home for the day, because he felt she was too sick to be at work. Told her to stay home tomorrow as well. My grandson had still been sleeping, but must have heard his mom's voice. Five minutes after she arrived we could hear him calling from his crib. I slipped off back to the bus stop leaving the two of them cuddling in the rocking chair.
The journey home was filled with close contact with the city's student population. Down the hill back to downtown, the bus was jammed with teens and seniors. One young male at the back of the bus yelling at his compatriots to give their seats up to the older travellers. I was considering giving mine up just so I could pretend to be one of the "hey all you young people", but the senior sitting in the aisle seat next to me made it clear he didn't want to let me out of my corner. Fair enough. The driver was having to work hard to do crowd control, because the aisle was so densely packed with standing room only passengers. No one was being miserable; it was just the circumstances making things tough for everyone on board. Most of the passengers disembarked somewhere in Chinatown, leaving the rest of us breathing a sigh of relief. Got off at my stop by the train platform just in time to catch my train racing by. Reached my end of the line station in good time.
Hopped on the bus pulling up that takes a bit longer time than my regular bus, but thought that the earlier gains in travel time gave me the option to choose. Should have checked my watch first. There were four elementary and junior high schools on the route just releasing all their students for the end of the day - Friday that is. With children from age five to fifteen crammed together, the bus took on the air of a mosh pit. Travelling past one school, I saw a sign directing parents to the meeting about a new start up bilingual program - English/Spanish, if you please. That would cause some rumbles in the language commissioner's office in our nation's capital, but the reality in this comunity is that school staff have to deal with the population they serve. Our residents don't come from either Paris or Montreal. Another school a community away - a mom bolting out of her suv before the wheels had fully stopped, racing for the school at top speed. Not a good sign - a guess that her child had been hurt during after-school sports activities or had slipped and really hurt themselves on the ice on the playground. Not a good way to start the weekend. Moving back into my community I think I was one of only two adults on the bus - the other being a very composed and firm female driver. She did a masterful job of doing her job of driving in early rush hour traffic, while keeping the exuberant Friday after school mob from getting out of hand. I was sitting by a window and found it necessary to start squeezing out toward the exit about two stops before my own stop. The young girl next to me commenting she didn't think she could move for me. I told her it wasn't optional, because I wasn't willing to travel all the way back to the train station with the young crowd heading that way - entertaining and endearing as they were, in a very loud sort of way. All the standing passengers worked very hard to make space for me to move through and all were unfailingly polite as I worked my way to the exit. I sent thoughts of appreciation to the parents/teachers that had made them so. Can't say I regretted stepping off that bus to freedom though. Glancing back, as I rounded the corner toward my home, I realized that that driver had taken the opportunity to keep the bus stopped, so that she could calm those students down so that the balance of their trip would be safe. Give that woman a medal and a certificate to a weekend at a luxury spa I think. Good night dear diary.
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