The effort

"Do you think I will want to do this when I am seventy? This going to the city, getting dressed up and going out for dinner?" I asked my husband across the room. For the last five years I have enjoyed going to the city for a few days and going to nice restaurants, often meeting family and friends there in the evening. He said, "Does it seem like more effort now?" And I said, "Yes, I think it does."

Then we never said anything. We both knew there was no telling what I would like when I am seventy. Just like there is no telling what I will like this time next year. We all change. And there is little point in asking oneself foolish questions. Though I am the queen of it. Queen of the foolish question. 

When I go to the city for a few days I walk for hours. I shop a little on these excursions. A new sketchbook, a magazine, a bag of candy. I just picked up the most amazing tiny bag of Bonds Liquorice Allsorts from Sweet Janes on Queen Street. I buy things that are easy to carry. I bring them back to my room and gather them and use them while I am away. It is like a little birthday party when it is not your birthday. It is somehow more special to buy and enjoy them away from home.

I always go to the Art Gallery of Nova Scotia. Just to see what is on. There is always something to see. There is always a book to intrigue me. An image to capture my heart. There is always something. And I always walk the waterfront. Today I sat in a big red chair and looked across at Dartmouth. I just sat quietly for five minutes. As I walked along the boardwalk I could hear the waves lapping underneath. I stopped for a moment and listened to them.

At Atlantic News I bought a little hardcover book called, "This is Water." by David Foster Wallace. I brought it back to where I was staying and made some coffee and read it. I like to do this. Buy a book of someone I heard about but know very little about, and read it. It educates me. I like that stone cold introduction to something you may or may not like. 

And all of this being in the city educates me. I am always reminded that people live differently than me. When I am home it feels like everyone lives down a rural road. When I go to the city I see that I am not really seeing how things are. I am living in my own little world. And it challenges me a bit. And it is good to be challenged, by books I never heard of, art I have never seen, and watching people live differently than I do.

I get so comfortable at home, and yes it does take more of an effort now for me to leave the house or the studio. It takes a lot of effort. I like it there.  Everything is the way I like it. But it is important to make the effort. I can see how easy it will become for me to get even more set in my ways. How easy it could be to just order in. To not let a new energy in. To avoid the discomfort of new ideas. 

And so I keep making the effort.

because the effort matters a great deal.