The Speed of Slow, part 2

Scene 1: Bloor & Young connector
They moved like a whirlwind around me. Clutching briefcases, laptop bags and coffee cups they grudgingly parted for me as I moved against the flow. Union Station was the end of the line for some, and a quick transfer to Bloor Street for others. I headed out while they all herded in. Arriving with time to spare I stopped, now a stationary barricade in the spawning stream of professionals and students, all moving to their destinations without out any thought. Rote human behavior with professional workers at it’s finest form. Watching it became apparent that for everyone here it was about the destination, not the journey.

Scene 2: Go Train, heading west
My train arrived, more workers pouring into the city. About 1000 arriving for every one of us departing. We departed as scheduled, of course. Speeding out of the city we passed the remnants of “the big smoke”, now converted into living/working lofts, allowing more to work closer to their destination. We sped along side the 8 lanes of the 401, snarled one way and empty the other. As the concrete buildings receded to under two stories we passed streams where fly fishing was in season. More trees, less concrete. The country side started, slowing, a spindling of tree before the forest started.


Scene 3: Niagara on the Lake
I walked, rain coming down but dampened by the red and yellow canopy of maples and ash trees. Stopping to listened to the rain I took this picture. A forest path – a symbolic journey. No whirlwind. No rote movements. Just a path in the middle of a forest. An east cost Middle of Nowhere with no Pandora’s Box in sight.

It was very clear – the perspective on viewing life as a journey, not a destination.

I slowly headed back to the car for the return trip… back to the Big Smoke, the whirlwind of Union Station. I love the bustle of the city, but I feel emancipated when I depart it.

Next up - The Speed of Slow, part 3 of 3. The iconoclastic within.