Heather Street

As some of you may know, I'm heading back to Antigua this week to continue my studies. The last few days I've been running lots of errands and trying to get organized to go. I found myself, just by chance today, at the very beginning of Heather street.
I've always thought it would be cool to drive down the street that bears my name, from beginning to end. It's on my list of things to do before I die, and I anticipated finding some deep spiritual meaning in the stores and houses that would be found on my street. Well, I looked at the street sign and thought, why not today?
Heather St. begins in Vancouver in a sort of seedy area of town. The first couple of blocks are extremely steep and pass by an auto repair shop, a strip mall and run-down houses. I was surprised how steep it was and how full of potholes. After Broadway it was still uphill, but not quite as much. I'm pleased to announce that Heather st. is a bicycle route almost the whole way, although there were several large detours in the way. I drove past Vancouver General Hospital, a book store, the BC Cancer Agency, and lovely streets with trees drooping over the sidewalk with quaint houses perched behind them.
And it kept going up. I had to take a detour around some construction and nearly got lost in the process, but found Heather st. again and kept going. Speedbumps. School zones. (let me tell you, if I made the road, I would've kept the speed limit at 50 minimum)
I thought about Heather st. as a metaphor for my life. It's amazing how many detours I had to take, and how many potholes there were. So far in my life it has been a series of detours: every time I think I've figured out where I'm going, my plans are changed. And most of the time it seems to be going uphill.
A while ago I complained to my mom, "Does life always go uphill? Is it always this hard, or does it level out?"
It is a strange thing, but as I passed block upon block and was still going up, I began to feel discouraged. Heather St. climbed higher and higher and suddenly at 24th avenue the road leveled a bit and I could see it stretching out as far as the eye could see, gradually climbing upward. I felt tears pooling in my eyes. (Is it a silly thing to cry over a street?)
I guess I always assumed that life would be easy. I thought I would work hard at things and then I'd break through into the 'good life' and everything would be smooth sailing. And yes, there have been days or months or years when it felt like smooth sailing, but a lot of the time I feel like I am fighting to get up a hill that doesn't want to be climbed.
The road climbed until 37th avenue. I passed by two hospitals, the RCMP headquarters, two schools, two lovely parks (one called Heather Park!), beautiful houses and run-down houses, and then finally the road leveled out and even, towards the end, it went down a little.
But the most amazing thing was when I got to the top of the hill. From there, I could see for miles. And it was beautiful.
If life was all downhill, all easy, all fun and games, I would never have a chance to build character. I would never have the opportunity to sit at the top of a hill (with a bunch of cars honking behind me!) and look at how far I've come and see the future stretching before me with so much adventure. Without some difficulty, without some suffering, it is impossible to experience joy. Real joy and real hope and real adventure and real character are all found on the windy, potholed, uphill roads, not the easy ones where you can go as fast as you want. Real beauty is found in the school zones of life- where I'm forced to slow down and wait and in the process my eyes are opened to everything else around me.
At any rate, I'm excited to go back to Antigua, but excited with a certain degree of trepidation. I'm confident that there are some serious challenges awaiting me (Hey, a block of Heather st. was closed and I had to sneak through a construction zone to get by). But also some serious joy awaiting me, just around the corner. And maybe when I get to the top of this hill, maybe I'll be able to see, as far as the eye can see.