Catching up to August...

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

It’s a cool, damp morning, the air smells of swampy water. Second day of my cleanse/diet, so far so good. I am eating a dinner of ezekiel toasts and a cup of veg broth that Michael has made, with a few shrimp in it for protein. This seems to suffice.

Reading Vivian Gornick’s “The Situation and the Story: the art of personal narrative”... a memoir is an answer to the question, ‘Who am I?’ The writing needs to entice the reader along with wanting to know the answer to this question, ‘Who is this person?’, as the memoirist continues to excavate the archeological layers of herself, her life, her story, hold the pieces in her hands, then add it to the alchemical pot that’s simmering in her belly, and eventually extract the metaphysical gold of wisdom and insight. When this process of transformation is presented from its essence, both writer and reader are healed.

Of course, this calls in the writer the requisite courage and will to dig down into herself, with just the right mixture of dexterity and tenderness to tease out the find, and the paramount patience to allow the piece to come to life again and tell its story. Finally, and I think this is the juncture where the writer can choose to take the story to its fullest purpose, by embracing all that she’s found with genuine love and acceptance, back into herself (I say this as if in redundancy, but I see it clearly as a physical act with visceral sensations). For I believe where this goes, is where the deepest self is, and incidentally now, where a story ought to take the reader.

According to Gornick, there has been a surge of memoir-writing in the past 2 or 3 decades because we have become more and more so, a nation of lonely and isolated individuals, quarantined inside the sterile cells of our conditioning.


Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Days are trickling by, like sand. In twilight, I discovered that I am to read The Wizard of Oz, the first two of the Four Quartets, and finish The Situation and the Story today. I am also to take a dose Manganese 200C tonight.

My brother, my cousin Polly, who was practising the kungfu of blockchopping, were in my dream. I was trying to get a ride home, but my brother had disappeared into the crowd.

For the last few days I’ve not felt like working on the dreamstuff I do remember, not even really making an effort to remember. Perhaps because I’ve got more than enough to work on right now, I need to deepen into some of the work I’ve done so far. Step after digestion: assimilation. Stop eating, for the most part, in mind, body and spirit. Although I continue to dream, little bits of them drop like seeds onto the land bordering my consciousness and the unconscious, tiny clues written on the wall, in twilight.


Thursday, August 5, 2010

Three hours after dropping Nemo of at my parents, we arrived at Wolfden Bunkhouse & Cabins near Oxtongue Lake, Algonquin, earlier than anticipated, only to find that it is a private room that we booked, not a private cabin. There were no private cabins available. Michael was visibly upset and ready to give up and go home, as it is his usual response to most things failing his expectations. And as usual in our relationship, one that constantly strives for balance like most relationships, the Eternal Optimist (me!) stepped up to the plate and tried to save the day. This time she succeeds (pat on the head :). Okay, okay, it was just our good fortune and grace, we found one vacancy just up the road at Parkway Cottage Resort, with everything we wanted except drinking water (tap water tastes of chlorine). It is owned by a friendly English family which, unfortunately, is friends with the bagpiper across the lake serenading the lakehood with amateur performances every evening. That being the only blemish in our choice of accommodation, we are really quite content.

We drove into the park in the afternoon and hiked the 0.8km trail to Hardwood Lookout, a gorgeous lake vista framed by deeply lush evergreens and backed by a perfect summer sky. Michael made a tobacco offering and we sat and took in blessed Nature all around. Given that I’ve never really connected to Nature in this way or scope, I would say that this new openness and budding love I feel for Nature – and I mean the whole of Nature, not just animals, or flowers – could only be something sacred, to have this kind of power over me.

Noticing the miniature and half-hidden such as all the different types of mushrooms, berries, mosses and ferns - little glimpses of colour and shape and texture - especially gave me joy, like finding little treasures where you never expected to. There were rock formations that I would’ve liked to photography for keepsafe, if I had a camera.

Then we drove a little further to investigate another trail, the Track and Tower Trail, the longest trail according to the brochures, at 11km. Someone very kindly left a walking stick at the entrance, and I gladly made use of it.

Day 4 of my cleanse/diet. I consider myself doing well. Also realized today that these 4 days of eating only 2 small healthy meals a day aside from the mastercleanse drink, has brought a real appreciation of the food I eat, because it is greatly reduced in quantity and variety, the perceived quality of it seems to increase conversely, and I look forward to my meals almost gleefully, yet with a calm and even joy. I know I can get through painlessly by taking sips of my drink, and there isn’t the usual agitation about falling off the wagon.


Friday, August 6, 2010


We played tourist and went to the visitors’ centre first thing today. Michael bought 10 of the trail brochures, mostly because he liked the black & white line drawings done for each of the covers, by an artist named Coneybear. He also got me a pretty flowered t-shirt as a souvenir from Algonquin. Then we hit the Art Centre & Gallery which was closed when we went by yesterday. The little pond outside was its own little ecosystem, complete with frogs which I thought were fake at first. The arts & crafts studio/workshop was brand-new this year apparently, complete with a beautiful hanging of a tangle of tree roots from the ceiling, and the young man I assumed was the art instructor. The gallery was not large but tastefully sparse, with a new but friendly vibe. Some of the artwork were surprising and delightful, though nothing that said ‘masterpiece!’

We decided to take it easy on aging ourselves and chose a short trail called Two Rivers Trail, about 2km long. All I can say is, my thanks again to whoever left the walking stick yesterday, because the terrain turned out to be full of rocks and exposed roots. I had hoped to stroll along with comfort and check out the around and above, but after about 100 yards into the trail had to keep my eyes on the ground and my feet around big and small bumps all the way. At one point I thought this trail should have been named Dead Wood Trail, because it was so full of dead trees that according to the brochure had suffered the blight of budworms then a big forest fire in the 70s. By the looks of it, most of the birches did not survive. There was even a dead tree blocking the trail in one place, along with several that it took down when it fell. But the lookouts were beautiful and numerous, usually large rocky outcroppings overlooking bottomless trees from one end of our field of vision to the other. The best part I thought, was the smell of the evergreens everywhere, particularly strong when I lifted my head and inhaaaaaaled. I’ve come to really love the smell of all evergreens lately. Still, I was relieved when the trail came to an end. Guess I’m not completely naturized yet.

In the afternoon we drove the 20 minutes into Huntsville to check out the Farmer’s Daughter Market, which has ‘higher end product’ according to the guide at the visitors’ centre. Fortunately for my diet, all the gluten-free baked goods were sold out. Nice introduction of a healthier food market to the neighbourhood, but nothing to write home about.


Saturady, August 7, 2010

Our last morning in Algonquin, Michael went for a dip in the lake (Oxtongue Lake) just down the road. He is sad to be leaving, after a very healing 2 days in resonance with Nature. I told him I thought it was because he is a Carsinosin constitution that being literally embraced by the Nature in all of its majestic beauty and pristineness has penetrated so profoundly and brought much solace. Whether I am right or off about that, he is gentler in judgment, more open to the enjoyment of being in the moment, even if the moment is not always be joyful, and generally lighter, so much so that his knee hasn’t hurt even after 2 hikes, the last one some fairly bumpy terrain.