Meditation

It’s a bone fide Nor’easter here in Halifax.  Our first real storm of the winter season.  If you’re a resident of the East Coasts, you are already aware of ‘snow storm protocol’.  It begins with required media coverage 36 hours in advance of all real, potential or imagined storms.  It is the top story of every news outlet. That way, hour by hour, reporters can increase the level of panic and whip us all into a frenzy of panic.  For those of us required to work for a living, they consistently warn of us of our impending doom; school closures, wind speeds, road conditions, accidents that have occurred and generally all potential dangers that will befall us if we DARE to brave the elements to do something as ridiculous as drive to work.  

If you’re a native Haligonian, you know most times these weather reports apply primarily to outside Metro and nary a flake has even fallen within city limits during the morning drive-time.  However, that doesn’t stop us from feeling like “Super-Employee! Who braves the elements and spits in the eye of danger to arrive triumphantly at work”.  The first thing to do upon arrival to work (after announcing yourself and proclaiming “it’s gonna be something else driving home today!’) is to login to the Environment Canada storm tracker.  After all, ‘we gotta keep on eye on this one’.  All morning coffee conversation revolves around THE STORM.  By the time the first snow flake falls (there’s always a self-assigned lookout and their job is to tell everyone - “it’s starting!”) we’ve become seasoned meteorologists.  The size of the flake tells us everything we need to know: Big flake, little snow.  Little flake, big snow.  From that we can then calculate the percentage of accumulation, duration of the storm, windspeed, direction and the hourly status of all road conditions.   

With schools and businesses rapidly closing, we dawn our toques, boots and car scrapers and wish each other safe travels for the slow moving, white knuckled trek home.  Not knowing how long the storm will last (4, 5, 6 hours?) I stop for supplies; a bottle of Merlot and Cab/Sauv.  I do a quick benefit analysis in my head and determine the line up is too long for milk and bread.  Popcorn for breakfast will make me feel like I’m really roughin’ it.

A strange and wonderful thing happens once you do arrive home safely;  you remember how exciting it is to have a snow-day.  With the monkey safely at her dad’s for the evening and I have a night to myself.  I am going to get all wrapped up in my comfies and watch the storm rage outside GGM.  As I prepare for a ‘cold winter’s night’ (the merlot first, definitely), the power goes out.  

This is the first power outage I’ve experienced at GGM.  The Manor becomes immediately silent, a rare occurrence.  I note the contrast to the regular after work/school mayhem of dogs and the monkey running in circles, barking and giggling, dinner cooking, music playing, phone ringing, Blackberry tinkling, FB popping.  I stand in the darkness of the kitchen and just drank it in.  Stillness. 

The Manor has such a warmth; it possess a soulfulness you can almost touch.  I like to believe all the love and energy has poured out from its inhabitants and permeated the walls.  I’ve often been tempted to research the history of GGM, one that I know would be filled with pain and sadness.  But tonight I’m much more inclined to let the past go; to think our presence here and now is writing a happier, untroubled chapter.  In case it isn’t painfully obvious, The Manor is a huge source of pride and comfort for me; it is a haven, a home, a reminder of a new start and a ever present reminder of what can happen when you put your mind to something ever so slightly beyond your reach. There is not a day that goes by that I’m not grateful for all that it represents and just how far along my journey I’ve come.  

As I write, wedged between two snoring (and slightly stinky) fur-kids on the way-to-small couch, paying reverence and embracing the stillness, the furnace lurches and springs to back to life.  Lights power on and clocks and phones demand immediate reset.  The Manor has completed its meditation.  

Namaste GGM.  Namaste.