Life As Performance Art 113

I have been complaining a lot lately on these pages, Gentle Reader. I realize this. It hasn't all been negative, and of course I always like to have balance, particularly on these dear little blog posts. So, today, I am going to channel my inner Pollyanna, but buyer beware. This Pollyanna has claws and very sharp teeth. I have recently complained here about the miscommunications, or lies, that were told about me to my building manager, who, naturally opted to believe the miscommunicating (or lying) building contractor, instead of first checking in with me, a stable responsible and good tenant in this building since it opened exactly seventeen years ago. He has apologized, at least, since I communicated my disappointment, and asked for an apology. He still has not given me the contact information of the contractor, so that I could get from them at least an explanation, if not an apology, since it is never much fun feeling perjured. And particularly given the huge power imbalance for tenants who live in social housing, it can be downright dangerous. Okay, so much for Pollyanna's claws and fangs. There are some positives, some real positives here to celebrate. First, I have housing. Damn cheap and affordable housing. Right here in Vancouver. This could only be the hand of God working on my behalf. When I was without fixed address, and couch-surfing twenty years ago, I felt that there was some divine purpose behind what was happening to me, even including my PTSD diagnosis, and that it would later manifest in some real blessing for me. I believed then, as I do now, that because I have dedicated myself to the service of Christ and his Gospel for much of my life, that I could always trust God for my care and wellbeing. I also have long known that this would not happen without trials and difficulties, since nothing that is worth having is ever going to come easy or cheap (and I have never been cheap, Gentle Reader. Not so sure about easy!) So, just when Vancouver was on the cusp of becoming one of the least affordable cities in the world to live in, by divine fiat I had some very beautifully timed "random" encounters with persons and parties who became instrumental in my finding housing here where I now live. Even though my employers pay me only a pittance for wages, just a little above minimum wage, I pay rent that could be called scandalously low here, and it has been my experience of homelessness that guaranteed that I could live here. It is not a great neighbourhood, but I am in the quiet part of the building. And regardless of my kvetches, this place is well-managed and I have every confidence that our new manager is going to do well. I can travel now every year, usually in Costa Rica, or Mexico or Colombia, where I have friends, access to beautiful cultures and countries and climates, and complete Spanish language immersion. I have money in the bank for emergencies. Even though my blessings might appear modest or even miniscule to a lot of you, Gentle Reader, given how much I have had to struggle, and how I was facing extreme poverty and want for many years, this for me now is a huge blessing. I can now focus more on the kind of decent self-care that should come with ageing well (I have lived on the dark side of sixty for the last three years) and simply focus on things that really matter in life. Today, I am going to have a coffee visit with a dear friend whom I have known for many years. The afternoon I will likely spend wandering around outside in the beautiful weather in neighbourhoods full of trees, and perhaps in a coffee shop with my sketchbook. Last night I spent two hours on Skype doing Spanish-English language exchange with another dear friend who lives in Colombia. I may never be rich in my (hopefully) long life, but I can still celebrate a lot of wealth. This doesn't mean that I am going to stop complaining. I believe strongly in the power of not shutting up. But this doesn't make me ungrateful, rather this to me is but one of the many important faces of gratitude. Happy Friday, Gentle Reader!