Some see park, I see opportunity.

Crackheads and couples and children - oh my!
These are just some of the sights to absorb in the park by my home. Alongside the different people, the poignant smell of marijuana often lingers in the air and it's amusing to see passer-by's take deep breaths with small smiles as they walk past. Despite it's importance, which I'm reminded of by the presence of the many dogs who need it to happily graze, mark there territories and relieve themselves, I do sometimes question how it came to be. The thing is, I'm not sure if it should really be called a park. What makes a park a park? There's no flowers, no playground and no plush view of sprawling acres of land with perfectly cut green grass. Instead, it boasts narrow grassy areas, a handful of benches, street lights, a few random trees and winding, grey pavement pathways. According to the City of Toronto's sign it most certainly classifies as a park and has even been named after George Hislop. I'm not sure who George is but I can only hope he would be happy to be associated with such an interesting space.

Often when cooped up in my tiny studio apartment and feeling the desperate need for fresh air, I try to convince myself to take a book, claim a bench and get some reading done in the park. More often then not, I fail this battle with myself and opt for my balcony instead. The park you see, is not a quiet, soothing place to read. I find the sounds of barking dogs, friendly chatter and the occasional incident of someone arguing with their imaginary opponent to be somewhat distracting.

I hope it doesn't sound like I dislike the park because the truth is, I love it! Do I wish it was slightly larger and safer with more of  garden? Of course I do. However, with an attitude of gratitude (which I encourage because it really IS the best attitude), I appreciate the park for what it offers. It's a space where everyone is welcome to do as they please and that alone makes it a form of entertainment. The park never seems to have a routine or pattern in terms of who will be there and each time I walk by it, it's a new sensory experience full of varied sights and sounds.

As I begin to understand the importance of being able to focus regardless of my outer environment, I now look at the park as a platform for learning and development. I will begin the challenge of taking a book down and continue this action until I can master sitting and reading in peace despite any chaos that may surround me. I will approach the park with an open mind and understanding that anything can happen. Perhaps the next stranger to whistle or cat call at me while I stroll through will be a handsome man - anything can happen in the park! For now, the park now represents an opportunity for me to change for the better and for that (and the great smell), I'm also grateful.