An interesting tension...

Whenever we take time out for rest and reflection in an urban area there often comes a moment when I want to keep partying and my sweetheart just wants to chill. Don't get me wrong, we both love the ebb and flow of being in a place as vibrant as Montreal, but I tap into a certain frenetic energy when I head into the city and this buzz creates an interesting tension within myself. In a word, the creative swirl of cultures, races, languages, architecture, sounds and smells can become almost addictive to me:  I want to hear MORE music, I want to visit ANOTHER museum, I hunger to browse yet an ADDITIONAL book store because I can actually feel the pulse of the city's energy in my veins - even when I should take a break.  

Yesterday, for example, we journeyed from Montreal to Ottawa.  I like this city.  It is tough, gritty, artsy and accessible in ways that I find earthy and real but at the same time it can also be exhausting as the clubs and people pulse away into the night.  After walking through the center of town - and winding our way to the Byward Market that was filled with buskers, tourists, outdoor cafe diners as well as tons of young people - it was clear we needed something different. Like weary pilgrims searching for shelter from the storm, we headed for a small, underground club - The Vineyard - that offers wine tasting and cool jazz.  It was just the refreshing and gentle respite we needed.

Heading home through the clubs and street artists, however, put me in touch with a yearning deeper than the quiet and I found myself aching to take in some hardcore, electric blues.  So, with Di heading for bed with a knowing smile, I jumped back into the groove and heard a few local folk music acts (as the blues club was closed.)  Taking a cab back to our digs I thought:  come on, man, to everything there is a season and tonight was probably more about being still than active.  This is a tension I live with almost all the time.  I once described it in a sermon contrasting Bob Franke's tender "Thanksgiving Eve" and AC/DC's "You Shook Me."  BOTH songs are alive and well within and without nourishing both it is easy for me to get out of balance.

Today will be much more quiet - and connected - as we stroll and listen to our lives together. There is a fun area of town known as "the Glebe" that is quiet and filled with book and tea shops.  The National Museum also has an exhibit re: the consequences of clash and conflict in a culture that we'll take in, too. And then we'll stroll the boulevard one more time before heading out of town for the country tomorrow and another type of wandering in the stillness of nature. 

I get in touch with my longings, my brokenness and what is truly healing for me on these extended trips - and I am grateful.