Yesterday I had a few moments to write a post, but given the events in Connecticut, anything I wrote felt frivolous. It seemed wrong to express anything other than to offer thoughts and prayers. Of course, nothing has changed today, except that the horrors that occurred there and in China become more horrific in the light of another day. These type of events also prompt people to reflect on relationships and remind people not to take loved ones for granted, to try to protect and maintain the bubble of innocence around children. These are the emotions colouring my return home.

We arrived late Wednesday night and I have been rushing around non-stop with a smile on my face. Is there anything better in the world than seeing loved ones again after an extended period away?

I also went for a run and I have never been more excited to do something that is like breathing for me. Although it did cause a little existential crisis. Let me explain: I ran downtown, up the city’s main street, to the heart of Canada’s seat of democracy. I took a moment to look at the frigid Ottawa River and the Parliament Buildings with the Centennial Flame still burning.

It was splendid. But not one person yelled at me. Nobody offered to come and run with me. In fact, few people gave me a second glance, other than to register that a runner was approaching them. It was glorious. I think I was smiling the entire run. I felt safe and free and happy, although here’s where the existential crisis comes in. I am so used to standing out and being stared and yelled at, that when nobody did that, I wondered if I was really there. Not really, of course, but it was a strange experience. It was also strange not to dodge potholes or garbage or fires burning on the sidewalk. The hazards here are more of the natural forces variety. It is SO cold. Ok, not that bad, about zero degrees Celcius yesterday, but my body has been baking in 30 degree heat for nine months. It feels that much more offensive to come back to winter weather. In any case, during the run I zoned out, listened to music with both earphones in and assessed what has changed in Ottawa in nine months.

There is some new construction of buildings and some road repairs, but not much has changed, actually. Still the same sleepy civil servants heading to work. Still everyone bogged down in layers trying to keep warm. Still the same quiet, polite atmosphere where everybody faithfully follows rules and laws.

The culture shock is less than I thought it would be, however. In fact, I think I am craving the frenetic energy of Kingston. It is so quiet and orderly here. One thing that is overwhelming me, though, is the sheer choice involved in everything. I spent way too long in the drugstore, captivated by all the choices of products and the implicit messages directing me to buy all these things that I need that will change my life. I finally snapped myself out of it and broke the spell though. I got out of there with mostly just what I needed. With less choice, you begin to whittle down to accumulating just what you need versus what you want. And you become more immune to the marketing geniuses and the cycle of consumerism that urges you to acquire more and more. Let me stay immune today as I do some more shopping and spend the day with some favourite people.

Also, here’s a good article on the media’ responsibility in such tragedies and how to treat children involved.