View from the new floating dock (July 1015)
I haven’t watched television or listened to commercial radio for a month. No news. No sports. No movies. And, no top 10 pop countdowns. I do have wi-fi (via my Personal Hotspot), so I’m able to work. Stay in touch. And, public radio. The CBC (Canadian Broadcast Corporation). It’s informative, Canadian focused, intellectual, entertaining, and commercial free. But no TV. I missed the Stanley Cup Finals. The drama in Greece. Negotiations with Iran. The US Open. The Tour de France. Wimbledon. The Pan-Am Games. And I haven’t watched a movie in over a month.
Do I miss it? No. Not at all. I read more. Write. Work. And, cycle. Read. Write. Work. And, cycle. If I am not work-working, I am working around the cottage. Building a laundry room and a third bedroom. Gardening. There is always something to do. Something in need of repair. I am more active, eat less, and sleep more.
I have also been alone the entire month. No guests. Just me, and the boys. Chas and Lou. I have people to talk with, if I want. Neighbours. The young woman that operates the swing bridge at the end of the road. Clerks at the food store. Staff at the building supply store. And the women at the coffee shop where I sometimes stop on the return leg of a ride.
Time alone, without commercial interruption, is enlightening. Empowering. Stimulating. You focus on what is important to you without compromise. Without conflict. It is just you and your thoughts.
The cottage used to be a family place where Mom, Dad and I would spend weekends and holidays. When my father passed away, my mother continued to use it regularly with her girl friends. She said it became a girls place. When she passed away, I initially thought about selling it. I live a continent away. But I began travelling to Toronto on business regularly and would steal long weekends and shortened holidays here. Usually alone. Sometimes with family. Slowly, it became my place. My retreat. A place to relax, unwind, and refocus. A place to train and cycle. A place to momentarily escape. I like that. Momentary escape. Isn’t that what a bike ride is? A time when the when the worries of the world melt away. That’s what this place is.
This is all about to change. My son and 13-year old grandson are arriving next week for a holiday. There will be a lot of fishing, swimming, and boating going on. It won’t be so quiet. No. It won’t be quiet at all. But it will be fun.
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