pick it up
more trash talk, Blake's new album and shows announced
Hi friends.
I took a rather long and unplanned break from this newsletter. Interacting almost exclusively with a very young person (with half my DNA) has been my focus. He influences my perspective on most everything. I expect this will continue for some time, and then a day will come when I find myself longing for small, soft hands, bursts of unbridled emotion and celebrations for a trip to the toilet well done.
I hope you enjoy this note.
“Pick it up,” he says pointing at a broken plastic cup stuck in a frozen puddle.
“It’s stuck in the ice, bear. I can’t.”
It’s not the first time he’s requested this of me. He began asking just recently, but we’ve been on many walks where I’ve either picked up garbage casually, or made it the entire point of the outing. During the latter I wear gloves and carry a few bags. Today I’m unprepared.
I elevate picking up litter to an earnest way of healing my inner city neighbourhood. I wish the task wasn’t insurmountable, but it’s a constant chore. I noticed the other day that the park we visited in Harbour Landing didn’t have any garbage on the ground. Not a speck. No cigarette butts mixed into the playground pebbles either. It made me resent my choice to live downtown and the people who toss out the contents of dumpsters, or discard the food wrappers from their car into the street, or leave their dog’s shit where it lands. All are scabs upon an area that is already wounded. My small effort is not a cure, but it is a prayer. Perhaps someone will be inspired. Someone might see a woman and her son cleaning up and be motivated to clean up too. Or at least won’t make it worse.
Once last summer, when I had a large bag filled with mucky garbage, I was spotted by some folks I know and love. They called out in friendly tones and made note of my task. In response I felt a melée of emotions that made my cheeks flush. Pride, anger, shame and virtue all elbowing each other for centre stage. Each one explainable, but lumped together it confused me so much that I think all I responded to my friends with was a shrug.
Now the snow is in melt, revealing all. The wet remains of to-go cups are clinging to the pavement waiting for a hot day to dry their carcasses and free them to skitter along in the gutter. I’m humbled by picking them up. Maybe embarrassed from time to time. But I’m resolute.
The only person I truly care to influence is reminding me to continue every time he has the chance.
(hus)band news…
On Friday, March 15, Blake released his newest recording in full. Folks, there is so much heart and healing on this double album that I don’t know how to talk about it as a whole. If you’re looking for a place to start, this is one of my favourites:
I love how your actions are inspiring the next generation. Sad how it seems new to anyone over the age of 3.
I enjoyed Blake’s song and decided country music isn’t so bad. The range of music I listen to is such a varied collection with one thing in common excellent lyrics.