Special Edition 🎙️: Sitting in the Time Bubble ✨
A simple, hopeful story for the holiday season. 🎄
To my dear subscribers,
Something a little different this month. I felt compelled to simply tell you a story, embedded below in both audio format and a transcript.
I found myself labouring over words that should have come more easily and instead decided the sound of my own voice, talking off the cuff, might be the best way to deliver this piece. The past few weeks I’ve been in the deep work of a feature article that has required every ounce of energy I have at the keyboard. This piece you’re about to listen to has not been specially crafted or edited beyond some ums and the odd clearing of my throat. It’s an experiment, to be sure, and I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
We need more simple, hopeful, stories in life—and here is my offering. This is a holiday story about a sweet memory that carries within it a lesson we can take into the season ahead. After you’ve listened, do yourself a favour and bookmark/listen to Dave Cooks The Turkey. 😊
Transcript
I started by writing this post, and realized that I was getting lost in the words and in the individual sentences that make up a memory. So I decided, instead, I would just record it. I would just speak from the heart and share this story with you.
When I was about 11 or 12 years old, I can remember driving home from somewhere with my dad. I can't remember where we were, but we were somewhere across the city. It doesn't matter where we'd been, only that we had a bit of a drive to get home.
It was winter time, and I can remember looking out at Christmas lights, and I remember, strangely, I was wearing pantyhose. I just remember the feeling of my hands on my legs and the warmth of the air coming out of the car.
I think we listened to a few Christmas carols, and then my dad toggled the radio to CBC, and a very recognizable voice came through the speakers.
It was Stuart McLean, and The Vinyl Cafe.1
Now, if you don't know The Vinyl Cafe, it might just take a simple Googling. There's a Wikipedia profile about the show. It aired through some of the most formative years of my life, and essentially on the show Stuart McLean, who was a master storyteller and short story writer, would tell his latest story, his latest creation.
And so there in that car, we landed on one that we knew we loved the moment it started playing, and it was the story of when Dave Cooks the Turkey. We'd just caught the bit where McLean is describing how Christmas for Mary Turlington is a solo sport.
And if you know McLean, he had perfected the art of anticipation. He had this way of really hooking you. But in this case, you know we'd heard the story before we knew what we were into. Immediately, both my dad and I were just under McLean’s spell.
I remember I was so engrossed I didn't notice that we left the highway, that we were ambling along the main road in our town. Nor did I notice when we were crawling along our street until we hit the intersection just a block up from our house. Now, maybe my dad had slowed down to accommodate winter conditions (our our street tended to be one of the last to ever get plowed), but I suspect he didn't want to get home before the story was over.
We crept up the driveway and the car came to a halt, but neither of us got out.
There in the glow of the Christmas lights of our house. We just sat and listened and we laughed so hard. By the time Mary Turlington lit the brandy soaked plum pudding— if you remember—we were in absolute tears.
I don't know if he kept the heat on in the car. It doesn't really matter. We just sat there in a parked car in the winter in front of our house for a good 10 minutes, just simply listened. It's like whatever worries or tasks weighed on us, they just evaporated, and we lost ourselves to listening.
But I remember when the story was over, it felt really bittersweet. It's like that let down of when a magical moment has come to an end. And this was before podcasts. We couldn't simply select another story and dive in, nor would we have wanted to. I think it was the fleetingness of that voice on the radio and our choice to stay in the car and listen, that made the memories so sweet.
I recently heard that these little windows of time call them kind of unplanned or unaccounted periods of time. I've heard them referred to as “time confetti.” There's a journalist named Brigid Schulte who wrote a book called Overwhelmed: How to Work, Love & Play When No One Has the Time, and the potential for this time to be used for good. We tend to use it for scrolling on our phones, or just, I don't know, handling the multitude of tasks when we have these 5 or 10 minutes. There's so much more we can do with it.
And sometimes it's not quite time confetti. I'm gonna call it a “time bubble.” There in that car, we had the magic of spontaneity and fleetingness combining, and it was up to us to make the most of it and take advantage before it popped.
And I think what was so special, too, was both my dad and I recognized the time bubble we were in. We chose to stay in the car, to sink into something we were both enjoying together.
So I tell you this story because I know life is busy. I know there's so much to do all the time, and we have the holidays coming up when we tend to take more time off. But I just wanted to encourage all of us to pay attention to those time bubbles and those opportunities to make something special and something sweet out of something we could just as easily interrupt and stop.
These are the moments that stay with me, that shared experience with someone that I care about, where we didn't let anything else compromise it. I think the rest of the family was in the house waiting for us. Honestly, we just sat and listened.
And so this weekend, I'm taking my kids to Lake Louise for a few nights, and my plan is on the way there to listen together to Dave Cooks the Turkey.
Have a great holiday season, everyone, and thanks so much for listening.
Meghan J. Ward is an outdoor writer and filmmaker based in Banff, Canada, a Fellow of the Royal Canadian Geographical Society, and the author of Lights to Guide Me Home. Meghan has written several books and produced content for films, anthologies, blogs and some of North America’s top outdoor, fitness and adventure publications.
What’s caught my attention lately… ✨
Listen to an excerpt of Dave Cooks the Turkey but you can also explore McLean’s stories with Backstage at the Vinyl Cafe, hosted by his long-time producer, Jess Milton.
I recently watched the whole season of A Man on the Inside on Netflix - a heartwarming comedy starring Ted Danson. In the series, Danson’s character, Charles, takes a job as an investigative assistant for a private detective to go undercover at a retirement community to find a missing ruby necklace. It’s got a great dose of humour but also offers a window into the challenges that seniors face and the real dangers of loneliness.
Check these out too… 🙌
Lights to Guide Me Home - my memoir (reviews welcome on Amazon and Goodreads)
The Wonders That I Find - my children’s book
My Email Newsletter - updates about my books, projects, and 1:1 coaching
Wildflowers - a documentary film
I am an eight-generation Canadian and a descendent of British, Scottish and German settlers living, working, and recreating outdoors in Treaty 7 Territory — the homelands and gathering place for the Niitsitapi from the Blackfoot Confederacy, including the Siksika, Kainai, and Piikani First Nations; the Îyârhe Nakoda of the Chiniki, Bearspaw, and Goodstoney First Nations; the Tsuut’ina First Nation; the homeland of the Métis and Otipemisiwak Métis Government of the Métis Nation of Alberta, and many others. I am doing my utmost, both personally and professionally, to deepen my understanding of the history of Indigenous peoples and the impacts of colonialism — past and present.
If you’re unfamiliar with The Vinyl Cafe, a great descriptor comes from Wikipedia: The Vinyl Cafe radio show featured essays, short stories, and music; while frequently humorous, the weekly programs often featured wistfully nostalgic Canadiana.
"lost ourselves to listening" <3
I love that Vinyl Cafe story. Have fun with it this weekend!!