Maybe. It's been a long gap since my last entry because of my table saw encounter. I tried a little writing last week and ended up with blood all over my keyboard. It's been over two weeks since the accident but I can't believe how traumatic it was and in some ways still remains. I had no idea just how sensitive and vulnerable finger tips are, and how much such a minor injury can HURT. Even now, my index finger is throbbing away, even though I'm not even using it for typing. It's easily the most painful injury I've experienced.
Still, I consider myself very fortunate that this is the worst of it; I could be trying to learn to type without fingertips.

Things have changed a lot since my last report. We no longer are house sitting out in SIdney, but have moved to a "mansion" on the ocean at Cordova Bay. I must say at the outset that I'm completely overwhelmed by this place and struggling to find a way to deal with it.

Let me describe this home. It's waterfront acreage facing Haro Strait, surrounded by huge, wind swept firs. The house is huge, with meandering hallways and rooms everywhere. It comes with sauna and hotub, a craft room, a workshop, a theatre room with projection TV and WII and playstation consoles. There is a fireplace in the master bedroom, which has an entire wall dedicated to ocean-facing windows and a deck, a bed the size of a football field and a soaker tub in a solarium ensuite.
The kitchen is massive of course, complete with a one-button automatic espresso machine (it even grinds and disposes of the used coffee for you); there are four baths, an office with three computers with huge monitors, and a BMW and restored classic car in the garage.
The house is filled with antiques and very expensive furniture.

The wealth and opulence here is astounding. So what's my problem?

I'm already taking flak from my friends who are jealous and would change places with me in a heartbeat. But the thing is that this is the absolute and complete opposite of the lifestyle I have chosen for myself. And yes, I could just accept this is a real treat - living like the wealthy without the cost or responsibility of it. But the problem I'm having is the symbolism of it, of what I think it means.

I have a hard time suspending judgment. To learn to not judge is probably my life's greatest spiritual goals. Now, I'm not judging the wealthy people who live here; they are simply expressing the values of a culture they did not create.  But when I am downtown and I see the homeless, I don't judge them as individuals but I do judge this system of horrendous, pornographic inequality.
Being in this house is the same as witnessing the suffering of the mentally ill and addicted poor. The enormous wealth on display here here is the opposite side of the same coin of inequality.

Those who possess this wealth are no more or less deserving than those desperate people I see huddled in doorways downtown, and yet the system as it exists rewards them with resources far, far exceeding their needs, while denying others the most basic requirements of life. 

I'm in bed typing this, looking out the window at the ocean below. The scene is beautiful. But obscene as well. I'm trying to change my perspective and see this just as a relaxing stay at an expensive resort, rather then a home. I'm trying to let go of the judgment. After all, tehre's a lot I don't know, and maybe these people spent their entire lives working to make this world a better place and this home is their reward.

It's also strangely affirming of my own life choices. Last night we watched the movie Amazing Grace on the big screen TV. There are two tiers of sofas in the theater room and Tracy and I curled up on one while our daughter took the other. The movie was great, but afterwards, I realised it was no better than watching it on my boat on my laptop. When the story is great, you forget how big the screen is. Our enjoyment was no more than when we watched it on our boat and yet tens of thousands of dollars had been invested to create something that was supposed to be better.
And while millions of dollars are in this place, I have seen much nicer views in my wanderings on the water, at a tiny fraction of the cost, much, much more freedom, and almost as much comfort. The privilege of wealth really is an illusion.