I just got in from fencing practice and I feel heavy with exhaustion. It’s a settled feeling – my muscles are sore, my body’s vibrating at a low, steady frequency. I feel alive and settled and satisfied all at the same time. My mind is heavy and fuzzy, and the world seems a little gauzy and soft. Things seem move a little more slowly and life seems manageable and warm. I know I’ll sleep well tonight, as I sink into my leather chair and dreamily watch late-night television.
This morning I woke up very early and made myself a green tea. I stepped outside and sat on a wooden garden bench that I keep on my little porch facing a wooded ravine conservation area. The world was quiet except for the odd passing early-morning commuter rumbling by. I could hear nature awakening around me. My tea rippled and steamed in the morning breeze. I watched the pastel colours of an Autumn dawn rise and saturate my neighborhood with light. Even the suburbs have a mystical quality at dawn.
There is nothing quite like the quiet pleasure of a pint of Guinness and a BLT at the Phoenix Grad Pub at McMaster University. I particularly like going there, after a long evening of work, deliciously exhausted, and settle into an hour of the fragrant caramels of the Dublin brew accompanied by the tasty crunch of well-toasted rye bread and extra-crispy bacon. At tables around me, students speak quickly in excited tones to one another – their eyes bright and engaged with each other’s faces. They feel that they have so much to hear and share, and so little time. I sit quietly, concentrated and content, enjoying my oasis of solitude amidst the din. A sip of porter followed by an explosion of crispy bacon and ever-so-slightly burnt crust in my mouth. Bliss.