A peaceful Soul (Walking Away)

WALKING AWAY: Walking away from the place where I spend much of my time is always a relief for me, leaving my cell phone behind I can begin to let go of the stresses associated with modern everyday life. The further I walk away the more I feel freed of it, freedom, go on and say it, “freedom”. It feels good doesn’t it?, and to know that each step I take the more space between me and that everyday life and controlled state, liberated from shackles and chores my mind begins to clear and the more important issues rise to the surface where they can be easily considered. Not to mention the beautiful state of mind that I’m getting as I walk, other things make their way into my thoughts, the sounds, the smells, the body filling with oxygen, it’s all good stuff; and you know that you’re on the right path. Little things become very interesting as I walk, stopping to look closer, deeper, and as I walk on I begin to relax more and those important issues I left behind seem a little less important now. My mind begins to clear out the rubble, my heartbeat steadies and my circulation gets stronger. I guess what I’m trying to say is, “it feels good to be me”. This whole process doesn’t really take very long, just a few minutes and you reach places so far away from your normal state it’s just amazing, places that are just not so easily accessible around the house. For instance, getting away from your routine is the easiest way I know to renew yourself, breath some fresh air into your lungs and your mind is cleared and your problems are out of mind. Now you have time to slow your thinking down, stresses are relieved; mind cleared, now you can begin to enjoy you, the person, again. Another thing that happens to me when I turn around and make my way back I can feel the pull of those everyday stresses creeping back into my thoughts, I can even begin to quicken my step in anticipation of my re-entry into everyday life as we know it, I’m already trying to decide what I will do on my return. Forcing myself to slow down at this point, stopping and delaying the inevitable, we all have to go home, or back to work, or whatever it is that we’re trying to relax from, but one thing I know is, that I always feel much better on my reruns than on my departures...

Integrity

Integrity, what is it? It’s being and staying true to who you are, which begs another question, who am I? Well here we go, that’s like asking for directions to heaven, and it’s different for everyone so you have to find your own way; and different because we’re all coming from interim places. The best way I can think of is first to like your self, and to be a little more like your self each day, eventually you will get there; using your integrity as a compass to map out your dominion as you go… You think of somewhere and you go there, you get there and you think of somewhere else to go, and so on. When you’re young you are mostly forward thinking, but over time you begin to look back, these are your milestones and they have to be accurate so you can retrace your steps; sometimes that is necessary in order to go forward again… This is about where I am now in my passage, looking back trying to see forward, it’s getting harder and harder to go forward these days; there's not as many places to go has I have been so I’m internalizing instead. I’m connecting my humble wisdoms like they are dots outlining the final picture of whom I am; and I’m beginning to reveal myself to me, pealing away the outer surface, the many skins and faces and masks; I hope I like what I see. After that I get to colour it all…

Written by: John Ellis

Canada Gold

Canada Gold
Originally uploaded by Johnny Flicker

This photo says it all.. I took this photo during the gold medel celabrations after the 3-2 over the US on Sunday the last day of the Olympics. It's probably, without a single doubt, the best hockey game I've ever seen in my whole life. I watched it with my co-workers at "The Hampton's Inn" in Langley... Words are few so I'll let the photo do the talking...

Not My Shirt:

I’ve got to tell somebody this story; it’s more than just bazaar it’s so far-fetched I don’t even believe it myself, well you can decide all that for yourselves. Here goes…

A few years back I was enjoying some well earned repose in Casino-Rama just north of Toronto. Perhaps it wasn’t quite so much the put your feet up kind of repose, but more of the hard at it kind of repose, it gives a more accurate picture of the way things were, I think.. Of course there were lots of things to recall of the event but I might as well get right to the point.

You’ve heard of the expression “I lost my shirt”, well I lost my shoes, and to make things more humiliating I lost my socks as well. (That’s other story) Oh I still had my shirt, and my trousers for that matter, but it still ain’t that easy to walk around a casino without causing earthy gawks and stares, never mind the insults and offensive remarks. It was probably in my mind but still I felt very centered out through the whole affair, trying to keep out of sight from the other guests and dodging from doorway to curtain. If you could’ve have seen me with one foot trying to hide the other as if that would help, anyway. As I was making my way down the hallway to a less populated spot I ran into who do you think? Probably the last person anyone could possibly imagine.

Jay Leno, yes the Jay Leno, right ahead of me, you know the one with the TV talk show. Now clearly a lot of you may not realize this, but Jay and I go back a long way, even before his early successes with comedy clubs, when we were still sewing our wild oats, and we sewed a few extra rows together let me tell you. Glancing back he spots me, and then my bare feet and then gives me his big face smile, not to mention his entourage who also joined in on the silly smiling.

“Johnny” he cries with an earsplitting voice, “What the hell are you doing here?” I’m speechless, "I live around here"- doesn't get out of my mouth. “This is great” he said all chuckles, glancing down at my feet again with a questioning frown. I was so mortified I can’t tell you, I felt about the same size as a mole scrambling across the hall carpet, trying to make it to the other side before being trampled. It's been a long time since I'd seen him and he's a big star now. Intimidated I beckoned Jay to one side and ask him quietly if he could please find me an extra pair of shoes and socks, he would surely have an apartment here in the casino, I thought.

He suddenly reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, now I felt even worse, it looked like I was asking him for money. Sure enough he flicked out three crisp one hundred dollar Yankee greenbacks and tried to stuff them into my hand unnoticed, I pushed them away whispering “no no no”… "Jay, I don’t want your money", "I just want to borrow an old pair of shoes and a pair of your smelly old socks". By this time I was desperate to make my case to my old friend. “I don’t care if they have holes in them” I blurted, “and the shoes can be odd ones if you like”. Well you should have been there; no one would’ve wanted to be in my shoes at this brutal moment, if I had any shoes that is. By this time the whole damn place was alive with Leno fans and me with my bare feet were in the middle of it, it was so insane. Talk about being the center of attention, if I didn’t know any better I would have sworn this was just another unbelievable dream and then I woke up…

Written by: John Ellis

Qued Zarga (Tunisia)

March 11th 2009

“This is a very special day”, and breathing it into words seems like an understatement to say the very least. Today my sister Patricia and I concluded a journey that began many years ago, as far back as a little boy without memories of his own, the final leg of this journey began this morning in Tunis as I drove the rental car out through the crowded streets to the outskirts of bedlam, getting lost a few times along the way. It seemed like the only way I could find my way was by chance, and it actually took longer to get out of the city than it took to get the rest of the way to Qued Zarga.

The new highway west from Tunis to Qued Zarga was amazing, 110 KLMS and all alone all the way, a toll road the equivalent of a dollar twenty five Canadian. The highway actually ended at Qued Zarga and it was possible to see the cemetery from the exit toll booth. It was beautiful to see it from a distance positioned on the northeast bank of the river, which was misty blue against the clear sky.

Getting closer and closer had a sedating effect after all the pondering that had been done over the years, not a bit like the hot sweltering desert I had imagined. What a welcome surprise to find lush rolling countryside all around, mostly olive trees row on row and some orange trees. It comforted me in a pleasant way to think that perhaps my dad’s last days on earth were spent in such a picturesque place, maybe even enjoying some fresh oranges now and then? It was nowhere near the gloomy end I had conjured up in my mind and it made me feel much better. And I must say that it was nice to learn that Qued Zarga meant “River Blue”…

As I drove the short distance through the olive grove from the main road, the sun was bright and the cloudless sky was unanimous. The light skipped across the still surface of Qued Zarga and onto the distant gravestones as I maneuvered the car over the rough sandy road to the cemetery gate.

As far as I could see there were only the two of us accept for a few farmers shading themselves under a tree nearby. Pat and I were very quiet on entering the site, the same way you would enter a church. We found ourselves whispering to each other as we very lightly walked around, it was like we were in a dream and we were both in it together. Even now as I write about it back in Tunis I’m still there in the dream…

We stayed in the heat of the sun, burned slightly from the early exposure to the UV rays, wandering like lost souls all around the site. I strolled up and down the rows and then up along the old tractor road through the olive grove, looking back to the cemetery for a different angle and photo for later. I will be looking at the photos over and over so I thought I’d better take as many as I could. I know that other folk will not want to see everything from every angle but I knew that I would, so I clicked away. Both Pat and I had our private moments with dad where personal thoughts were shared with him, forever knowing where dad is now. Here, in this very special place where he’s been resting for over fifty years, on the sandy and green hillside sloping gently down to the River Blue.

I will always remember the fisherman in his flat bottom boat gently drifting through my view, the two shy dogs keeping a watchful eye on our movements. The young farm workers still resting under an olive tree in the heat of the day. The brilliant sunshine cast over us like a shroud and the donkey on the crest of the hill that couldn’t care less…

When the time came to go the transition was not easy, it had taken us so long to make this journey and now we had to go already, for me this is when the real sadness hit the air, and I guess I haven’t left, not all of me anyway. A big piece of me stayed behind as we drove away seemingly as slowly as possible, stopping at different points to take another look back. A piece of my father left with me also and I can feel a presence with me now that I never felt before, I suppose this could be what they call closure but in a strange way it felt more like a beginning, maybe it’s both. Anyway I think I understand what it all means now and I’m content with it. I love you dad, now I know where you are, and at last we have been together…

I also put a small bottle of whiskey on his gravestone which I later poured on the ground over him, and I brought back twenty colourful pebbles from on top of dad’s grave so I can look at them and feel closer if I get further away again…

Postscript: My daughter Kelly asked me to put some daisies by his grave and I did that for her. She also asked me to thank him for her life, I did that too.

Posted By: John Ellis

I Will Not Forget

Sgt. George S. Ellis. Royal Engineers (A True Scot)

This old worn out photograph, it’s all I have to remember my father; it’s all I ever had in fact. He was killed in action in North Africa just six weeks after I was born, we never met. This photograph was my father, I had nothing else.

The man in uniform was a mystery to me for the most part; my mother was always reluctant to talk about him because it brought tears to her eyes and a tremble to her lips. She stayed true to him throughout her life and never remarried and I think her sacrifice was far greater; her loss must have been staggering to live out her life without him.

The uniform was all the suite of cloths my father had, he was photographed in them, he was married in them, he went off to war in them, and he was killed and buried in them somewhere in Tunisia, a long way from the warmth of his home fire, a long way from his family and Country, and a long way from the affections of his loving wife and children.

I think about him all the time but especially around this time of year, November 11th, and on this morning I make my way to the local Cenotaph to observe Remembrance Day. I share this moment with countless others, most I’ve never seen before, but we all endure our grief together in silence. In this moment we are all one family, remembering our loved ones with the deepest regret and sorrow, and no matter whether we are from this country or foreign, we join in this special moment as one.

I used to think it was all a huge mix-up and that my dad was still alive somewhere in the world trying to get home, and that one day he would just appear. Lately this thought has changed to “what if he were still alive today, what would he be like”? I watch the older veterans, few and fewer each passing year as they march proudly past, wishing one of them could be him.

It’s always with mixed feelings and sadness I consider the ultimate sacrifice of my father, and it’s the same for all other solders lost, or should I say hero’s lost? I will not forget…

By: John S. Ellis
http://www.musicborders.com/



(The following video clip was taken in Victoria BC, Canada during the Remembrance Day celebrations, 2007) ...

Remembrance Day 2007

TofinoBus

The new Pacific Sands paint job: Just a quick word to let you all know that I'm working up in Port Alberni for Tofino Bus Lines. It's almost a year since I started working here, I was just supposed to help out for a couple of months until they hired some local drivers but as you can see I'm still here. As I was last year I will be taking a few months to rest up this winter, probably from the end of November until the end of January 2008.


The video clip below was taken last November on the Pacific Rim Highway. As you may have heard the rains came and they kept coming all month without a break. Still the sights are breathtakingly beautiful, and as you can see the water never stops. The overhanging rocks squeeze out every last drop creating some astonishing waterfalls and the rivers and creeks were to their max. I hope you don't mind but I took the liberty of adding some appropriate music to help everything along...

The Tofino Run



To see more videos like this click on link. http://youtube.com/profile?user=johnsellis