Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Cochlear On The Beach





The hues and shades of blues and greens of the Caribbean ocean defy written and even spoken description. If one was to give their best detailed first hand eye witness of the ocean to a police artist, the resulting painting would at best capture the "water" aspect, but would miss the beauty and spirit of a patchwork array of turquoise, indigo, pale and light blues, dark greens, and even a "Paul Newman eyes" shad of blue that only when when witnessed first hand does one "let go and take in".

To describe in words the ocean in this part of the world is akin to describing love making. Words can convey the idea, but to experience first hand almost defy words. I am in awe yet strangely at peace when I visit the beach and visit the ocean on our first morning. At time of writing this in my journal it is dust after dawn and Mary and I note that the pristine clean sand has been freshly raked, possibly hours earlier. It appears that the resort guests have staked their cabana claims much earlier than our 7 am arrival! Still we manage to snare one of the many umbrella structures crafted out of local hardwoods for base and table and topped with dried palm leafs that will provide a relief from a Caribbean July sun that will show little mercy when high.

It is hard to tell where the sky ends and the ocean begins when I gaze out at the horizon. There is perhaps one or two wisps of white in the Bavaro Beach sky that remind me of a chefs drizzling of melted icing sugar on a startling blue china plate. "This can't be real!" I say to myself It looks like man created the perfect sky. If one was to invent the perfect ocean scene, it would be the one that my my eyes drink in this morning. Breath taking!

By 7:30 am we are seated in the roofed but open air beach side buffet restaurant. Is one of seven dining options that the resort offers. There are also five bars that offer every cocktail and concoction under this sun. I do a quick and simple math and decide that we will not eat or drink at the same establishment twice. (This will prove to not be the case as we settled into creatures of habit and discover or favorite nosh spots)
The coffee is strong, dark and heavy. The brew is served in a 50/50 mix with hot milk making up the second half of the mix. It is the Dominican version of a "Four Bucks" latte I suspect.

As creatures of habit Mary and I find "our" beach real estate, that at the time of this writing has been under the same coconut tree shaded beach spot that has offered this white "Mungie Cake" some protection from the sun that will make my skin a "Canadian Lobster red" after day one. Our real estate will give give Mary some lightly filtered rays to make her already Berry Brown skin even darker.

As I lay here in our 4 x 4 golden sand carpeted environment, the unobstructed ocean view plays out a variety of peaceful scenes. The soundtrack is the ever pleasant breeze that is welcome as it offers relief of noon heat, but also a cochlear nuisance for my t mic on the processor. The "wind concerto" will play for the seven days that I spend here ocean side, but the beauty of the view and sun will bar outweigh the obstructed hearing.

Waves break at what appears to be half a kilometer from shore. Kayak's paddle day long and the occasional power boat filled to capacity with wanna be and perhaps some veteran divers chug by. I assume that the newbie divers all took the obligatory twenty minute course, then loaded tanks and masks on aluminium 20 foot floating dive school, and head off Bavaro Beach in search of exotic chorals, colourful fish, and dreams of a buried Caribbean Pirate treasure.
Ahhh ! There might be a Disney movie in the works!.
Catamarans and two man sail boats tack with same breeze that blows our palm tree ever so gently and wonderfully!

The ocean and Caribbean sky make one wonder why the word "Blue" is used in describing a lost love, or a melancholy moment. As I write this it is now mid week, and is somewhere between noon and five. I wear no watch so I guess. We keep a small clock in our beach back pack, but at this point that would require effort!
for some odd, yet fascinating to be sure reason, the moon is visible on this afternoon. A soft lovely white half moon is out in the mid afternoon sky, as the sun retreats into the west as I lay in my ocean facing fancy beach hammock. I guess at 2 pm by the suns position, as the still hot and lazy afternoon drifts almost sleep like. It is as if the day is having a late afternoon siesta.

My cochlear still gets the breeze concerto at steady and non interrupted volume, but the roar and din that morning featured and starred packs of families and couples frolicking in the ocean, has been lulled to the sound of a quiet and softly rustling of the ocean palm trees.
Big buffet lunches accompanied by wines, ales, and rum laced frozen special beach drinks are cause for a quiet exodus of the crowds to their air conditioned rooms. It is now the daily siesta retreat of the resorts denizens.
Mary and I partake in the ritual, but we prefer the snooze on our beach chairs. It is not so much a scheduled event, it just happens. Daily. Just after 2.
We both eat lovely and well at around 12:30. Over the lunch hour we pursue and graze the buffet, some days filling up on salads laden with marinated squid and octopus, other days a meat lovers delight with veal grilled to our order, beef off the hip, or pig ribs that were done in a wonderful BBQ sauce today.
There are days of full desert consumptions that bring a temporary quilt, that goes away after first bite. Vacations are not so much about moderation as they are about a passion for life.
The food and wine consumed go to work. We make our way back to our reserved beach spot and read our vacation books. I get through about four or five paragraphs, and am in REM zone sixty seconds after that.
I wake briefly to remove the magnet from head, and store the processor in safe harbour. I look over at Mary and she is GONE to sleep land.


More tomorrow or whenever I get motivated to type the rest!


warmest,

David

Sunday, August 2, 2009

hola! saludo



Back from a week in the sun and sand. I ate too much, had too much fun, and had more than my share of sun.
I also wrote.
And wrote.
And wrote.
So you good reader, get to share my seven day excursion by way of journal.
I will not do the ungrateful blog faux pas of posting all of my ramblings in one heap of a post. I would much rather spread it out over a week or so, and hope that you get a sense of our journey that lasted seven days.

I hope you take a partial peace and piece of the experience I had, and I hope you enjoy,

The plane lands in Punta Cana International airport, and the first anomaly that strikes is the grass and palm thatched roof on what appears to be a tiny and primitive international terminal. I half expect to see Nick Nolte and Chuck Norris type characters come flying out on the tarmac in military decked out jeeps and duke it out with us with semi-automatic weapons, It is a visual deju vu almost from Hollywood. A movie like "Nicaragua" comes to mind.

It is just past 7:30 on Saturday evening when Mary and I land for my first true vacation in well over 15 years. I am both excited and open minded. Excited about visiting the Dominican Republic for the first time, and open minded about "letting go" and discovering a Zen like inner peace and tranquility that I hope comes from seven days of blue Caribbean ocean that is outlined with near perfect white sand, and boasted with ever ever present coconut palm trees.

As we exit the airplane right out doors to the steamy asphalt tarmac, the tar seems to melt and evaporate in a hot hallucination brought on by the 33 degree Celsius temperatures. The moist hot humid air fills my lungs immediately as if I just took a huge swallow of hot black African Rooibus tea.
The runway is lined with many planes that all sport foreign countries.I am in awe of the multitude of countries that are landed at this port. Holland, Great Britain, Portugal, Italy, Japan, Germany, Finland...to name a few. In my naivete I pictured only us sun and beach deprived Canadians such as Mary and I that would come to this Caribbean Island in the heat of July. We would discover that we are just a tiny fraction of the tourist population here.

I am nervous to be sure, when I not two large men that work the "Immigration" checkpoint that I am in line to go through. There are no smiles on their faces and I hear no "Hola!" traditional welcome given to my fellow travellers ahead of me in line as they make their way past the imposing military attired Dominican civil servants. I quickly glance at my paperwork that I hurriedly filled out in the dimly lit terminal. The mostly Spanish required paper work has guessed at for the most part by me. As I approach the checkpoint I wonder if I will be detained for questioning as a result of my laziness and ineptitude.
The uniformed Dominican looks at my passport (although I truly doubt he read any of it or looked at picture for comparison), then took my guessed at answers on my paperwork and placed them in a box where I note thousands of others are lying in disarray. Perhaps destined for a fireplace in the hills.

Welcome to the Island!



This vacation will be a "first" on many levels. For starters in my life before deafness, Janet and I always opted to stay home on vacation and do house projects. In my world of business I travelled Canada extensively and constantly. Living in hotels,waiting for the inevitable flight delays and passing valuable family time in airport terminals that all have the same shops and sterile die cuts It has been two years since I have graced the the at one time very familiar airport security, and today as I flew out of Toronto, I am aware of my deafness more so today than in previous days in the past two years, as I struggle with boarding announcements and general airport information. In my cochlear Implant world the comprehension of electronically and artificially enhanced speech, is less than 10% comprehended.
It's noise!
Going through security I await with trepidation the "beep" of the metal detector that should pick up my surgically implanted tiny computer that lies millimetres just inside my melon. I have my Advanced Bionics card that will explain that I harbour no weapons or small metal projectiles that I might have evil designs or intent.
But no "beep".
I smile relieved, but wonder now about the reliability of our airport security.

Now arrived in Punta Cana in the Dominican Republic, the bus ride to our resort is a wonderfully short one. Bavaro Beach is a quick 15 minutes in the darkness that surprises me. It is barely past 8 pm, but the sun has been extinguished for almost 15 minutes, It is as if God has wet his thumb and snuffed out the ball of orange flame swiftly and with ease. The darkness snuck on us quickly, and will continue to surprise for the next few days. The darkness that engulfs us on this bus ride is in striking contrast to the sun that I marvelled at forty five minutes earlier.

On the way to Bavaro Beach the road seems narrow, but here are no lights for me to judge. The driver must know the quirks and quarks of the journey well. The large tour bus that takes about 40 or 50 of us to our destination seems so ill fitted for the narrow roads, yet the driver guides it well over the twists and turns. The narrow jungle growth lined paths appear to be almost rainforest like in setting. The driver stops and with patience it seems, waits as native workers on two-wheeled bikes take away the much need room to navigate his big bus through a particularly tight area. He waits for as long as he can, knowing that he has a schedule, but he respects their schedule to get home to their families as well.
He flashes his lights in the darkness to explain that his waiting is done, and the workers dismount and allow the big bus to pass throught the path that might be called a road, in this jungle like landscape.

We arrive at the resort and Mary and I are in awe of the sheer size as well as the majestic architecure. The huge white colums and glistening marble tiles in the entrance lobby are but a small indicator of the elegance and oppulance that will delight our senses over the next seven days.

More to come, and thanks for letting us share!

David

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Act 2: A Love Story


If "Act 1" of my life were to be labeled or defined, some would call parts of the act both tragedy and comedy.

Tragedy in the sense that towards the end of my "Act 1", or in the last two years, I suffered a medical meltdown, on life support, in a coma for ten days, then a period after that night that saw me hospitalized for 100 days, and rehabilitating at home for 15 months.

During that time, and shortly after my medical 9/11, I became totally and profoundly deaf, lost all inner balance that put me in a wheel chair to start, then months and months (still on going) of physical therapy to teach me how to walk with NO BALANCE.

The above would be part comedy, and I saw the humor in life as I stumbled around deaf and awkwardly.


I crawled out of my medical soup and started down a road of recovery. During that part of my "Act 1" I lost my wife of 19 years to a dogged and determined blood cancer called Leukemia.
And oh yea, I lost my dog as well to cancer.

So my life in 2009 was started different, as my son Dan and I set out in the world as best we could. My mindset was good, and as I wrote often here, I was in discovery mode to see the world through a new and fresh perspective.

Then I met Mary!

I have posted about her and described how my new friend Mary graced and changed my life quickly. I first posted back in April this:
"So when someone graced my life a few weeks ago, I did the usual observing, listening, contemplating, deliberating, meditating, and reflective thought. After reasonable time and conversation it became clear that this new soul was a kindred one indeed.

I am pensive and rational by nature, so I was intrigued by my "full speed ahead" quest to spend more time with this wonderful soul as she was so engrossing.

My deafness along with my obvious magnet on my melon, has made me more shy and guarded than the previous analog version of myself. It was with great delight that this lady disarmed my silly perspective of myself, and made me feel "normal". In so much as I hate the word normal, and at times believe I am no different than before, I am also aware that my challenges with cochlear aided hearing do indeed make me different.

I had also forgotten how wonderful it is to share conversation one on one, as I posted a while ago. I get caught up in the wonderful world of sharing, and find myself "hogging" the conversation, as I have been for starved of that for quite some time.

Acceptance of new friendship can be hard. When one is "not looking", "not interviewing" or "not accepting resumes" for the friend position; one is caught of guard a little bit when the universe offers up a wonderful kindred soul to share and laugh with.
To allot and apportion my time with is a treat now as I look forward to the experience and the daily give and take of the conversation that is offered up when two people share common interests and goals.
The give and take of life is worthy of sharing with others. So my enchantment moved quickly to contentment.

Yes it has been a relatively short period of time in our friendship, but we are not 17 any more, and there is no sadness in that simple fact.

Life moves on at the speed of life. Change happens faster than we like, but it changes.
The glee and gratification of sharing the day to day trials and tribulations are lighter from the mirth and pleasure of having someone to chew the words with.
Another wonderful soul to relish the day with.
A kindred spirit to share the hilarity and jollity of life and it's joy.

There are no accidents in the Universe"
End of post.


Since meeting we have spent 134 days in each others company. We have only been apart for 7 days, and that was when Mary and her sister took a vacation together. It was during that week apart that I knew that I had something special in my life. A kindred spirit. A wonderful soul that was quickly becoming my best friend in the universe and the love of my life.

The relationship was amazing from the start, and it was as if we knew each other all our life's.
She made me comfortable in my "magnet on melon" appearance, and found it "silly" that I considered myself "handicapped", when I had hearing and other than a magnet on my head, I was just like anyone else.

We share life together as if we have been together for 134 years, not days. Our experiences, strengths and hopes from and for life are common indeed. I often question why such an amazing lady would want anything to do with a deaf old 51 year old.
Mary is a self proclaimed "Pain in the ass", but she is anything but!

Mary has two adult children so has been more than a tremendous resource in dealing with my 15 year old. Trust me on this, as good as Dan is, he is still a 15 year old boy discovering high school and all of the temptations and peer pressure that go with it.
Mary has "been there, seen that" and is amused most of the time at my naivety in the world of parenting.
I have learned much and continue to do so. Not just about parenting, but life. I have a wonderful teacher in my life now, that shows me not by telling or stating the obvious, but by watching her, and listening to her. I have learned mountains of good life lessons, and daily it astonishes me at how far I have come.

But it is the love that makes "Act 2" so wonderful.
It is indeed an second act in my life, and I am grateful for it. I will never loose nor forget the first act and how it shaped my life.
The wonderful things it brought me.
The beautiful boy that is also a love of my life is a major part of my first act, as is a marriage of 19 years, and a medical firestorm that changed the way I see the world.

But it is a love I have with and for Mary that is new territory and amazingly wonderful. I have never felt this way.

It is not a "puppy dog" love, nor is it the love/lust of two 17 year old's. God knows we are both not 17 anymore, and are clear on how short life is, and where we are in God's calendar.

So for the past 134 days I have felt the love of an amazing woman.
Shared stories, meals, laughs, friends, hurts, cries, hugs, cleaning duties, laundry, bed making, shopping, sunrises and sunsets.
I have met and spent time with her wonderful family, and her with mine.

We are in love!

So we will ride off in a plane to spend 7 days in the Dominican Republic on Saturday, and I am in bliss about having my new best friend by my side 24/7. No interruptions for work!

Life is amazingly wonderful and when I look back on the last two years I do a big "huh?"
How can I be so happy so happy after everything I have been through?

Answer is simple, and she goes by the name Mary.

Life in a Cone of Silence was my first attempt at writing a blog describing the world of deafness and how the world was viewed in silence.
Five String Guitar was a life in a liminal space that wrote about my new way of hearing the world through a cochlear implant, but offered up the limitations of sound. Five out of six strings if you will.

I found my missing string!

Warmest,

David


Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Back In Blog Land

I am indeed back!
Not that I went anywhere, but I have been MIA from this cozy place that I used to spend hours putting fingers to "qwerty".

Since I last graced this page in attempt to update in a creative manner, summer came. Well sorta. The days flew from June to July, and now I scratch my head trying to recount where July went, and what I did or forgot to do.
Ah! Life at the speed of glorious life!

I still am, and will be forever, as deaf as a stump/stick/wheel of cheese.
My balance is a misnomer as I will never have "true balance" but I do a wonderful "fake" walk that would fool the best Cirque de Soleil folks. Daily I do a regime to trick the brain into thinking that walking like an Egyptian is really a cake walk.
Inner balance is so overrated dear brain.
The eyes have it.
Relax you worry wart of a grey matter!
Just relax!

Work keeps me from penning my first novel, and pretty much keeps me from attacking the dust dust bunnies that attack the house that Guitar Boy and I share in our little town.
Work seems to take over a life that enjoyed at one time spending 3 hours researching and creating the perfect French Toast.

Work, be it of the house nature or of the 40 hour per week nature, is also overrated. Yes, it pays a bill or two, but man does it take away from the discovery mode that I was in at one time. I seem to have my head down and buried in a LCD screen more than days gone by.

I will not grumble about being a million miles from a place that saw me deaf, and in a wheel chair for a time. And by the way, that does feel like a million miles ago on this journey.
Despite what some famous author declared that "there are no second acts in an American life", this Canadian boy has reinvented himself and, as a matter of fact, is on his second act.

Yes my friends, life does change, move forward, and move at the speed of life. People die, babies are born, illness strikes, senses are changed, zits appear on young boys faces overnight.
Change, change and then change.

Embrace, accept and get on the hamster wheel I suppose. I love this life, and I love to learn.

So I will depart on Saturday for a week in Punta Cana, in the Dominican Republic. There I will spend 7 days with my head buried on one of several novels. I hope to read at least two or three of the trash nature, two or three of the classic's and perhaps one or two that teach me something.

Leaving the "summer" here, that has been in the blistering 20's ( high 60's F for my American friends that chuckle at the rest of the world in Celsius) and going to the high 30's.
Sun, sand and a break from the Blackberries, LCD screens, and excel spread sheets that oh so tire me out.

I will be back.

thanks for your patience and kind words always.

Warmest,

david

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Perfection.

I seem to have gone away from here for a jag.
Life got busy, and as always, travels at the speed of life, which tends to speed up exponentially as per the number of "things" one has on the many burners.

Spring sprung of course, ions ago, and now we sit in springs purgatory awaiting the dogs days that the summer seems to promise and deliver.

I am still "here" of course, still in a liminal state that offers up semblance of sound in a digital format by day, and utter and profound silence at night, sans the magnet that connects my cochlear implant to the PC embedded in my skull. Comprehension waxes and wanes, but thankfully more waxing than waning.

Work is the necessary function that keeps me away from the blogosphere, sadly. I have to make money to buy food and put a roof over the heads of me and Guitar Boy. I can live in a dumpster, no problem, and quite frankly there are those days when the tax, utility, heat, phone, cable, internet, and water bills all come in at once, that I yearn for the simplicity of the homeless.
Ahhh! To live in a tent!
The thought passes once I lay my head down on my down pillow and pull up my duvet. In the silence of night, the world seems fine again. It is the times when the bedlam and pandemonium of my concerto overwhelms, when I want to run away and join Toby Tyler in the circus.

I am considering a half marathon this fall. Ambitious, yes, but I need a "BHAG" (big harry audacious goal) to get some spark back into the Saucony shoes.
And what do I know about "me"?
A 10K event is a noble goal, but why run for an hour when you can run for two?
A Marathon of course is far too much out of the realm of possibility. It has been three years since I ran the Toronto half marathon, so baby steps would dictate a what? 5K?
10K?
A ten mile?
No sir, sadly, I have the personality that says run big or run home. Besides, I have almost 16 weeks to get there.

I have not been totally absent from the world of Blogger, as I check in nightly and read my favorite people and catch up on your lives like a voyeur lurking in the hedges. I know, I know, ......"why don't you leave a comment David?"
Well I suspect sheepishly that if I did, you would pounce on me for leaving you all with a post over three weeks ago, the poof!
Nothing!
Departed, dissolved and AWOL all at the same time.

So I am writing to keep the stream going. I put down words, as I have always said, for me. I write because the road I embarked on some 16 months ago, is many roads or paths if you will. On one particular path to Enlightenment, I discovered that when I put fingers to "QWERTY" a stream came forth.
Sure, a trickle at first, but the more I touched the keys, and looked out the window of my world, the trickle became stronger.
The path/road/stream changed as much as my life did.

It took me this long, and over many books, blogs, journals and personal meditations to discover what Buddhist teach and preach: The teachings and writings tell us that Buddha, of course is symbolic, and our idealized image of perfection equates to our concept of Enlightenment, and if we believe we have the correct image of what it means to be Enlightened, then we need to throw out that image and keep meditating.

In my case "keep writing", keep the stream going.
In my last post I told you good readers that I had reached a place where I was "happy, content, and serene. Most importantly I am at peace with myself"

I expressed my inner thoughts at the time and told you that "I like me!"

And I do.

But to be clear, to be content is different than to reach Enlightenment.
I liked me on that Friday of a long weekend. The garden was amazing and the offerings de jour were enough to fill me up for a while. I took it all in, and gave some back.
I needed to realize that my path goes on and needs to be analyzed and scrutinized. The road or journey I am on is not over.
Far from it.
My inner peace that I found that day was a lookout point on my journey, where I stopped, rested, refreshed, took in the glorious view, and carried on.

And from the nano second that I posted that last post, the view changed. As did yours and everyone else.
Our 83 problems changed, by the minute in many cases, but we still all have 83. I struggle with sound and balance, but am getting better at both.
Traffic used to bother me, now I put it to good use and meditate if I can. Bills pile up as do dirty dishes, so I deal with them as best I can, and try to get back on the "right path."
I am a single parent of a wonderful but challenging 15 year old, and being "content" with myself is not enough to do that job. I have to constantly change with the wind and the world. I have to do more, know more, and "listen" more or better in my liminal space here.

The path or road that I travel I hope never gives me the feeling of "perfection". I want to keep striving, keep working, keep meditating, keep swimming.
And keep writing.
I have been through a lot, but I have oh so much further to travel.

I am enjoying the journey, but I am not stopping to rest for long.I have to get back to the simple concepts that I have learned learned in the past 16 months in my journey:

"Don't worry about "enlightenment" or about "felt need." When you're hungry, eat. When someone else is hungry, give them food. It's not about understanding: Just do it.

Perceive the situation of this moment, without making I/my/me. Then reflect the correct action. If your nose itches, you scratch it, that's all. "

Life is pretty simple, and beautiful always. We just need to stop the need for perfection.
I hope I never have an image of perfection in my life.

I don't want to miss any lessons because of an idealized image

Namaste!

David