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An experiential journal of synchronicity and connection

Feet in the Air

Feet in the air
Feet in the air, head on the ground.

Immediately after my grandfather’s funeral I was delivered into the company of friends new and old in the neighbourhood of Saint-Henri. I haven’t the slightest idea what possessed us all to lay back on the green grass and extend our feet into the warm September sky, but that’s exactly what happened—and so I decided to capture the moment for all time.

A Lost Childhood

Beaconsfield bungalow
My childhood home in suburban Montreal.

I often wonder what my life might have been like had my parents remained in Montreal, the city of my birth, rather than hightailing it to Toronto in the late 1980s. There is no way to go back, not now, though it doesn’t stop me from wondering. Another branch of the family remained behind—and several of my male cousins on that side have done time. Would I have been among them? Or would I have escaped that particular turn of the wheel of fate?