I don't really want to know what my heart looks like. I know that five arterial grafts were somehow put on it; some from my left arm and some from my mammary glands. I have a feeling it would be like looking at the cloverleaf of an expressway; you would look at it and wonder how anyone could possibly travel on it, yet millions do - it is better just to experience it than try to figure it out.

So here is what five arterial grafts feel like:

They feel like the Wind and the Sun. Today I paddled with the wind about three or four kilometres down the river to a bridge and then turned into the wind to come home. The sun was in my face, warming it and caressing it like a mother's love. The wind would keep things from getting too hot for comfort, the wind reminded me that change is always there, coming at you to refresh and challenge

They feel like Work and Effort. It is such a pleasure to be able to simply put energy forward, one stroke after the other, one stroke at a time. You may feel like you are making slow progress for the wind is strong yet you know when you make the paddle cut through the water that you will be able to do it again and then again and then again. You have the gift of not just standing still but the gift of progress and advancement.

They feel like Beauty. The river is change and the river is the moment. The river is different at dawn than at dusk. At noon it is one place and at midnight another. The frozen white of a Saturday afternoon in February is so different from the ebony lunar surface just before a summer's storm. The beauty is never ending and today I saw and felt and rode the wonder that existed only today in my moment and will never exist again.

They feel like the Past. How many have paddled this river? How many Algonquin? How many voyageurs? How many log drivers have run the waters and how many perished in the old rapids? Every time out there, I paddle with them. When the tiny callous on my hand reminds me it is there, I think of the working men that toiled on the water.

They feel like the Spirit. There is an energy or a power or a strength or a something out there that is greater than me and maybe even greater than you. The mystics , the saints, the oracles, the witches, the apostles, the monks, the shamans, the holy women, the addicts, all seek the Spirit and so do I. But I am either blessed, or have the delusion of, the connection almost every day.

They feel like the Ordinary Day. Waking up in a warm bed . Having the waking process hastened by hungry cats. The luxury of a breakfast meeting. The sweetness of a canceled conference call. Fish for dinner. An evening walk and run with the beagle

They feel like Love. My wife. Cousins near and far. My Tuesday Night Friends. My Thursday Night Friends. Friends of past, present, and future. Jack the Tweaker of Curries and Souls.

I have no idea what a quintuple bypass looks like, but at least I have the blessing of feeling it.