Connections

The sun is streaming in through the window of my relocated office, washing the long desktop in warm bright light already at this hour; a sure sign Spring is coming, though we still wouldn't know it by stepping outdoors. It's been another cold week, and if one believed in the saying we teach to elementary school children, this would be the March Lion arriving, soon to give way to that loveable Lamb who, religious undertones aside, will usher in April and Easter this year.

We've given up on shovelling the driveway. Well, we being me, the one who does such things, and with the cold and flu that has gripped our house of late, outdoor chores like keeping the drive clean and being watchful for those dreaded ice dams over the entryways have seen very little improvement since mid February. Luckily Mother Nature has cooperated during our time of ill health, and has seen fit to keep the new snowfall amounts to a minimum, and nary a melting temperature anywhere near us, so things have been just fine. Of course some of the retirees on the Bay don't take to the chores so nonchalantly - its a routine that must be followed and so their walks and drives continued to be spotless while those more busy with life and chasing kids and sicknesses and the like can be spotted easily if you care to watch as you drive past.

It's hockey playoff time, so we've spent much more time lately in various rinks across the City watching not only the boy's games, but those of his friends and former teammates, cheering and supporting them on and reacquainting ourselves with friends we haven't seen since football season or last hockey season before we joined the A1 team last October. It's a welcome sense of community when you walk into an arena and see familiar faces with ready smiles and eager ears and a desire to share with you the latest news from their corner of the sporting world.

Of course for some the news involves more meaningful topics, depending on how well you were acquainted with the bearer of the news, and as you listen and laugh and share, you realize how important it is to stay connected, especially during the dog days of winter, when shutting yourself off becomes very easy to do. For this crowd here tonight at the rink, this is our Sunday after Church community visit; our town hall meeting place; our common altar 200 feet by 85 feet, frozen solid, adorned with red and blue lines. A place for kids to play and compete; a place for parents and friends to watch and cheer, some more loudly and more vocal than others, and some offer more criticism than encouragement - a slice of the larger community as a whole.

I realize as I watch these playoff games that it is much easier to enjoy the game as a game if you have little vested interest in the outcome - especially if two of your former teams are pitted against each other - makes it difficult to choose sides so you fly the Swiss flag and play Neutral - as opposed to watching the boy's team, where the outcome is more closely connected to your heart and your focus more squarely placed on a few select individuals. You vow to remind yourself of that insight the next time he plays...

It is at these playoff games where the boys (and girls) who have come to watch, and who currently play on different teams but have past connections, reveal that they are still indeed kids - 12 year olds in this case - as they run together in groups around the stands, moving throughout the game, playing and bonding and cementing the friendships that are the real reason we encourage them to play sports in the first place. They could just as easily be at home in front of some game system or computer or face stuck inches away from a smartphone screen, but they are here, together, in person, connected.

Connections. They are important for us, and we forget that until we lose them, or neglect them, and then we're quickly reminded that we are not alone nor do we wish to be. We need the interaction, the magnification of our human experience that comes from sharing it with others to enrich our lives, to sustain us during the quiet times, the lonely times, which we need as well. The contrast between them is what makes each of them so worthwhile. Like Winter ever-changing into Spring, the contrast is what makes the change so inviting. Take that with you as you move about your day, cherish the stillness when you find it, but welcome the calamity and 'noise' that breaks that still silence, and lets you know you're living a life worthwhile.