Thursday, August 26, 2010

Winnipeg to Niagara Falls

10 PM on Tuesday evening at the Winnipeg bus station, I've boarded the next bus to Toronto, an estimated 33 hour drive.  Estimated arrival on Thursday morning 7 AM.  There seem to be a lot of people heading East, so they have added an extra bus, I'm aboard the 2nd bus, which has fewer passengers allowing for more leg room and comfortable sleep tonight.  I'll have to wait for sleep until we make a stop somewhere along the way to purchase some water to take my medications, as I had to quickly board this bus after arriving here from Snow Lake only a 30 minutes ago.  The bus is moving now, so we're off into the night, a night marked by a full moon shining brightly in the dark sky.
Scenery outside the bus as we travel from Snow Lake to Winnipeg.

6:30 AM, Wednesday, August 25th.  After a night of uncomfortable sleep on the East bound, quiet Greyhound bus I awakened, one of a lonely few, to walk off the buss at the early morning stop.  Simply a bagel, cream cheese, and a vitamin water and back to my awaiting seat.  Cream cheese spread gingerly across the warmed bagel and each bite was taken with the delight of the moment.
One of the sights at a stop on the Greyhound Bus.

After the morning delight of bagel with cream cheese came the continuation of the reading of "The Journey to the East" by Hermann Hesse.  As the last chapter passed my mind, a moment of quiet reflection with the realization of something lost.  I've known for some time that I was searching for something, most would summise I was running away, for even I have believed it this way from time to time.  As the morning sun illumiates the tree ccovered hills passing silently, it also grought an illuminated realization.
Me, asleep on the bus.

I've been traveling to regain that small child's wonder, excitement, and simple pleasure of the physical world.  That child's world where magic is possible and questions welcomed and abounded, that delight in discovering everything.

Now, again, through the eyes of the gifted child I see the delight and magic again.  Yes, Lynn, Santa Claus does exist.  If only through the joyous wonder and dreams of a child.  Peaceful and excited feelings emerge from deep within, as a closer understanding of "The Great Eastern Sun" is realized.  Just as the great Eastern sun shines brightly, revealing the colors, the amusement, and even the joy of just being.

Why is it that we loose our childish enjoyment of things as we age?

The freshness, magic, and wonder renewed, awakening the love of living again.

Kakabeka Falls, Ontario, now.  Thunder Bay 30 Kilometers ahead.
White River, Canada, Where Winnie the Pooh started.

Me, at Lake Superior, one of the stops of the Greyhound bus.
Perhaps I need not always travel to keep this joyful sate of being with me, ever present in thought and deed, but it has helped.

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