Atypical Saturday

via Daily Prompt: Delivery

Saturday was filled to the gills.

I was awake ’til late on Friday night and then got up early to attend a half-day course on suicide intervention. Afterwards, I spent the afternoon walking up and down Main street taking in local history, music and culture before coming home exhausted, but pleased, skidding out at the back door — “Hello, pavement! It’s been a while,” — and hopping up the stairs to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and watch Netflix’s new series Atypical and later re-reading bits of Voyager in preparation for the big reveal in September 🙂


The training, safeTALK, was fantastic and I highly recommend it (find out more here). It gave me the idea for a tie-in for this prompt, actually.

I learned some grim statistics and heard some heart-wrenching stories. One thing that was shared was how, often even when a person acts on thoughts of suicide, how in the middle of falling from that bridge or ending their own lives, if they survive, how often they say that in that moment between life and death, that they had doubts — that they realized they wanted to live, more than they wanted to die.

For all of the complexities that make up our lives and inform our choices, if there comes a time when we see no escape from the pain we feel, and we make a decision to end our life to be delivered from it, and we act on that decision, still in that moment the will to live can exist. That is a powerful thing.

Alice: ‘How long is forever?’ White Rabbit: ‘Sometimes, just one second.’
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Life can and does turn on a dime, in the blink of an eye, moment to moment. And this training saves lives… Take people’s pain seriously. If they tell you they are struggling don’t brush it off. Ask if they are thinking of suicide; if the answer is a definite ‘No,’ that’s great. If the answer is ‘Yes,’ listen and do what you can to keep them (and yourself) safe. It only takes a second, but it opens the conversation up — a conversation you might never get the chance to have again, if you don’t ask.

It was a very intense and emotional morning, and I’m so happy I was finally able to attend.


The afternoon was more relaxed. I walked through the local Mural Festival around the Mount Pleasant neighbourhood infused with oodles of art, community stories and vendors and listened to some First Nations histories, songs and drumming. And I stopped later for a bit to eat out on the patio before transiting back home to fall briefly but deeply into oblivion before waking to continue a most enjoyable evening.

It was an awesome day, bar the gravel in my knees.

Sunny and smoke-free, too!

More to come,




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