A CERTAIN POINT

Yesterday morning I was walking along the beach in Sihanoukville, marvelling at how still the water was compared to the day before -- no tide, no waves, no motion.

Not far away, disaster struck Thailand and southeast Asia, monstrous waves overwhelming people and cars and bungalows in one giant swoop. (I was about to say 'one fell swoop', but then I realized that I'm not sure I've ever understood what 'fell' means in that context.) Hundreds dead, swept away, submerged.

Unreal. And Cambodia, so close! Nothing. Hot sun and motionless water and light-brown sand, all untouched.

I had been thinking about going to Thailand over Christmas -- maybe to Bangkok, possibly to Phuket.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. Is it up to us, these seemingly innocuous choices that spare us or condemn us? Is the Big Guy upstairs actually in charge of the weather patterns and the size of ocean waves and the thoughts that leads us from person to person, place to place? Or is it randomness itself that guides our lives, a benevolent energy, an actual tangible force that distributes death and smiles without fear or favor?

Not sure.

I stood on the beach yesterday, looking at the calm, blue water that stretched out, out, out, and I realized that this was one of those rare moments in life when everything at a certain point in time and space is at peace. When everything is stable. Nothing but water and sun and sand. Nothing but drift. Nothing but feet-in-sand and sky-up-above and blue, above all, blue, clear and distinct.

But it was just a moment.

SUGGESTED VIEWING (BUT NOT ON, LIKE, NEW YEAR'S EVE)

If you want to watch a truly powerful, unsettling, deeply moving film (albeit one that is not exactly holiday viewing) track down a copy of 'Osama', the first film made in Afghanistan after the Taliban was ousted.

I won't say anything specific about it (except to note that the title does not refer to Bin Laden.)

It's a short movie, less than ninety minutes, but I guarantee that the impact of it will linger.

Probably one of the most moving and emotional movies I've seen in the last five years.

Don't read the ad copy. Don't scan the summary on the back of the DVD box.

Just watch it.

THE LATEST, ODDEST REMINDER OF HOME

Running along the Phnom Penh riverfront at 5:40 a.m., past the group of middle-aged, early-morning exercisers exercising en masse to a new techno-tune version of Ottawa's own Paul Anka singing 'Diana'...