Every day after work, I walk across the Alexandria Bridge to meet Steve. His building is just across the river from ours on the Quebec side and while I can see his office from my own office window, we are still parted by the rushing waters of the Ottawa River and technically, a province apart.
Every evening, when I proceed with my fifteen minute walk, I pass the same people and see the same view every time…and I just love it. The sun is often setting in front of me and the city seems so quiet and tranquil. I have seen that same view through various seasons and weather conditions and times during life, and all the while, it’s always comforting to me. The water still rushes from the current and flags still blow in the distance but the ice melts and the trees bloom or the snow falls and the Christmas lights appear. It’s such a comforting example of how things change yet they always stay the same.
I’m not really a person who likes change very much. The older I get, the more open I am to it, but I still love my routine and the consistency of my life…and my walk across the bridge. I often take that time to breathe deeply and spend some time with myself. Often, as I notice the little things that have changed since the last time I was there; the colour of the sky, the amount of traffic, the number of boats in the river…I wonder about the days when I will be more different than the route that I am walking. I wonder how different the world, my world, will look when I’ve changed more than everything around me.
Tonight, as I walk across my bridge to meet Steve, I will be the different one. I am different today then I was the last time I crossed. I will seem like the shift in the scenery and not the view. I will be the difference in the air and not the temperature. And my world will look different. My world does look different. And it hurts.
The Gospel of Matthew says “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted”, and I believe this to be true. I believe that while I will never be the same person crossing that bridge ever again, I also know that it won’t always seem so different. There will come a time when the person that I’ve become over the course of the past four days won’t stand out so much anymore. I believe that the peace I find when I see the air form over the frozen water or the sun reflect off the building windows is the same peace that will make this walk easier each day. Or at the very least, I hope so. I pray so.
There is a part of me that just wants to stand on that bridge for as long as I can. I want to stand there with the cold air blowing in my face and making my skin feel the way the rest of me does. I want to stand there and watch the sun disappear. I want to watch everyone walk by and new people appear. I want proof that I’m not the only one changing.
Every evening, when I proceed with my fifteen minute walk, I pass the same people and see the same view every time…and I just love it. The sun is often setting in front of me and the city seems so quiet and tranquil. I have seen that same view through various seasons and weather conditions and times during life, and all the while, it’s always comforting to me. The water still rushes from the current and flags still blow in the distance but the ice melts and the trees bloom or the snow falls and the Christmas lights appear. It’s such a comforting example of how things change yet they always stay the same.
I’m not really a person who likes change very much. The older I get, the more open I am to it, but I still love my routine and the consistency of my life…and my walk across the bridge. I often take that time to breathe deeply and spend some time with myself. Often, as I notice the little things that have changed since the last time I was there; the colour of the sky, the amount of traffic, the number of boats in the river…I wonder about the days when I will be more different than the route that I am walking. I wonder how different the world, my world, will look when I’ve changed more than everything around me.
Tonight, as I walk across my bridge to meet Steve, I will be the different one. I am different today then I was the last time I crossed. I will seem like the shift in the scenery and not the view. I will be the difference in the air and not the temperature. And my world will look different. My world does look different. And it hurts.
The Gospel of Matthew says “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted”, and I believe this to be true. I believe that while I will never be the same person crossing that bridge ever again, I also know that it won’t always seem so different. There will come a time when the person that I’ve become over the course of the past four days won’t stand out so much anymore. I believe that the peace I find when I see the air form over the frozen water or the sun reflect off the building windows is the same peace that will make this walk easier each day. Or at the very least, I hope so. I pray so.
There is a part of me that just wants to stand on that bridge for as long as I can. I want to stand there with the cold air blowing in my face and making my skin feel the way the rest of me does. I want to stand there and watch the sun disappear. I want to watch everyone walk by and new people appear. I want proof that I’m not the only one changing.
I want things to stand still for little while so I can remember what it feels like…
1 comment:
A bridge is a wonderous thing that connects one thing to another, indeed connecting some people on one side to others on the other side. In this sense one stands alone on the bridge one is between things that connect, passing over and passing under and always in motion, be it fast or slow and all but imperceptable. UN
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