From the monthly archives:

October 2008

Building Memories

by lulujane on October 19, 2008

I live in a 3 storey condo in a strip of seven condos. A grassy, lightly treed common area separates our block from a similar condo strip behind us. It is now lightly forested because of the Emerald Ash Borer infestation a couple of years ago. Many ash trees in this space had to be cut down. It is relatively quiet here, and until this summer, the children playing in this area were minimal and playtime normally took place during the early afternoon hours.

A month or so ago a new family moved into our block. Shortly after they arrived, a touch football game continued into the dark. The high volume of shouts among the players easily lifted into my second storey living room, where I was quietly sitting alone watching television. The ‘noise’ at first was a distraction and I felt on edge about it. I stood up and observed them playing under the lights of a tall playground streetlight.

I believe that a miracle can sometimes simply be a shift in perception.

A couple of the players appear to be grossly obese and I think to myself ‘this is great exercise’. It reminded me of the many hours my five sons played touch football on the road, without complaint from neighbours. On this day, it was obvious that this was healthy, happy, family bonding time. They were all, visibly and auditorily, having a lot of fun.

A couple of days later, in early afternoon, I observed one of the heavy looking boys who appears to be twelve or thirteen years old running laps in the grassy area. He is easily visible from my living room window. As he repetitively brushed his hand toward an invisible football on the ground, and ran is if he was dodging interceptors, I sensed that he was working on his game, trying to improve.

My miracle in how I receive the sights and sounds below me, is that now I see this autumn activity as memory building. They are having fun and they are building memories. I know how important, how valuable and how cherished this can be.

Voila, and with that perfect non-judgmental, accepting thought, now I hardly notice what I previously tuned into as ‘noise’.


Linda Iler