I joined a throng of folks walking up Queen Street. It's a city centre I don't visit very often, and certainly less over the time I've lived here. I looked at the people, very few on their phones, an almost quiet atmosphere, this had something to do with the impending sailing race that has the country on tenderhooks. Enough said.
It's a place I feel safe in.
Walking with the flow of the crowd up queen street this alters as I turn up hill towards sky tower. Not really sure where the convention centre part is but the handy thing about using sky city is that it has to be near the tower somewhere. Now the tower, I guess one of the icons that says Auckland.
Day one over and the walk back - buzzing from post conference high. I join the after school rush for the train. Filled withe enthusiasm of the day and the Joy of buying a new notebook I didn't calm down till I got off the train then I noticed the great squelchy noises my boots made in the rain, contemplating the comfort of my boots. Then I spotted the bubbles made my the footprints of the guy walking ahead of me, that made me smile.
Conference day 2 I approached from a different direction. Going into work first and walking down queen street. Going to work was a mad idea and now I'm not in quite the right frame of mind. It was an earlier start today so after passing the people on their way into the hospital it was a quieter walk down to sky city. I stooped at some traffic lights on the turn uphill catching my breath, feeling hot and clammy and I imagine rather red, I don't walk slowly, and as you know even a small incline does me in. I arrive at the venue and check, yes very red, very clammy and rather toasty, I look alive and like I've had a good walk I just hope I don't smell too bad as the day goes on. It's a longer day all around to day so here's hoping.
The smell would have been irrelevant after such a powerful and emotive day. The walk back to the station to day was later and busier with less school kids but more people. I was keen to get there in time so I caught the next train and it wasn't till I got to the station that the blister I had given myself on this mornings walk reminded me of itself. The deftly applied plaster in the toilet earlier had done the job.
The stories of the day had touched me, touched us all I think and well powerfully presented so as I walked I saw. I saw people and wondered what were their stories, what mattered to them. It's scary thinking like that. I want to hide away behind wine and a crappy movie. I need to shut it away and yet it has been exposed to us, to me in such a way that I don't think we can. It's why I do the job I do. It's why I love the job I love. I'm typing on the train, too scared to catch anyone's eye, to imagine thier story or pain. I sneak a look. I see tired people eyes closed, catching some rest and peace before they face home, what may they face, the crying child, the abusive husband, the sick mother who needs lifting into bed. I see a lot of devices, connecting us to what. I'm guilty I sit with iPad tapping away. Lost, disconnected. I see worry, concern pensive faces. I did see hope today. In the bleakest moment today, there was hope, but it will require effort, require connections and I will look up and see the faces, hear the stories and ask what matters to you.
Day three and it now feels like a routine, walking up Queen Street, I don't think the hill has got any easier but I do know what road to walk up now. Today is the day I take pictures. I'm still clammy and red, with a fresh look on my face. There are a lot of women here who do make up very well, I can't be one of those.
Today's conference was not as emotionally draining, still a good day but not quite as exhausting. Despite a session on 'mindfulness' I am particularly mindless on the walk back down. I cannot recall any of it. I talk to Adam on the phone, I sit on the wrong platform at the train station. I am not present. I sink into the iPhone on the way home. Once off the train it is darker and colder.
These three days of walking to Sky Tower.
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