At the Canadian Customs border crossing yesterday, which, by the way, even if you are a work visa holder, you have to go through the Visitor line now, NOT the Canadian Resident line, and if anyone can point me to the new rules on that, I’d be much appreciative. Canadian government websites are just as onerous and nonsensical as US government websites.
Alas, I digress.
So, while crossing the border, the guy looked at the stamps in my passport and made a comment to the effect that I go back and forth a lot. Well, yes. First year and all. The comment has lodged itself in my brain, however, and got me thinking. I’ve landed on simple pleasures, the things just about everyone takes for granted.
Driving, for example.
I don’t have a car in Canada. I gave it to my cousin, who informed me that he is thankful and really enjoys driving it. That was really good to hear. Like my drum kit, I’d rather something of value go to a good home where it’ll be used rather than sell it to the highest bidder who will either let it waste away in the garage or basement, or sell it off for parts. The car, and the drum kit, still have a lot of use left in them. I take very good care of my stuff. Anyway, so my main method of getting around Vancouver is public transit. Or walking, much to the chagrin of my Canadian cohorts. And when I can either bribe people with IKEA meatballs, or catch people going in the same direction or to the same place, I get a ride.
So it was a pleasure to have access to a car while home in Chicago. Sitting behind the wheel, inserting the key into the ignition, hearing the awesome sound of a good engine turning over. Being in control of the speed and direction of the vehicle. I had to pay more attention to things, remember to check all the mirrors and not turn the volume too loud on the stereo. The first couple times it felt like Driver’s Ed. But it was a simple pleasure.
Watching the NFL. Simple pleasure. Watching it with people who understand football: bonus! I didn’t care who was playing, though I did watch the Bears, but I also watched the other games. Just because it was football.
Watching the Bulls with my dad. Simple pleasure.
Playing Wii Mario Brothers with my nephews. Simple pleasure.
Reading to my nephews and niece. Simple pleasure.
I used to take such things for granted because they were weekly, and sometimes daily, occurrences. And the first couple times home were hard because I was reminded of the occurrences and longed for that continuity. There wasn’t anything to take for granted in Vancouver. There wasn’t anything that filled those voids. Or at least I didn’t recognize them at the time.
Mountains. Simple pleasure. That probably goes without saying.
Being outside in January and not freezing to death. Simple pleasure.
Running outside in January without snow. Simple pleasure.
My own space. Simple pleasure.
Sometimes distance helps you realize the simple pleasures in life, in any location.