Spending the weekend in Wagga Wagga is a clear demonstration of my lack of geographical nouse. I thought it was almost to Melbourne and therefore would be cold! So I absolutely sweltered in the allegedly 32 degree heat yesterday and gave a lot of financial support to the local taxi service to avoid arriving at appointments dripping with perspiration.
My colleagues in Sydney were perplexed and asked in disbelieving tones why I was going to Wagga Wagga. Well true, and with reference to the previous post, the person I am with is the key reason, and he is preaching here tomorrow. And it is the location of one of our clinical schools for 2011 so an opportunity to visit Calvary and learn more about Mary Potter. But above all it is an interesting place. With a quilt exhibition. And a botanic garden with a free zoo.
Walking back from a riverside wander yesterday afternoon I came across the 'war memorial'. Such a huge list of names, from what is even now a relatively small community, who served "God, King and Country' in the Great War. Interestingly the dates on the memorial were 1914-1919. Curious. Did they acknowledge the aftermath of war as well as the duration? Did they update to include those who made the 'supreme sacrifice' after warfare ceased? Or did a stonemason just make a mistake?
And behind it an ever-burning flame (with an empty Coke bottle floating in the pond) and a wall acknowledging all who served in previous and subsequent military encounters: Anglo-Boer War, WW2, Korea, Malaya, Vietnam etc. And another curious corrections plaque listing additions, alterations and deletions from the main bronze plaques. Deletions puzzled me, were they later identified as traitors or cowards, or again was this just simple human error?
Such memorial inspire conflicting emotions for me. Pacifist feelings mingle with pride and a kind of patriotism, with grief at needless waste, with sadness at the scale of it. Good to take stock and think. Before shopping for summery clothes.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Enduring love
... is a great novel and in part the inspiration for this post. It's been on my mind since, ages ago, I posted on my wall over at the Book of Face that I 'loved being in love'. People I don't know at all (well except on FB but people I have never actually met just joined up with in a group or whatever and they really would have no idea about my relationships or personal life) liked it, and people who know me really well (like nieces, daughters etc) also liked it. There seemed a conspicuous silence from those 'long time' friends I've reconnected with in the world of virtual networking. Now I'm not so narcissistic as to expect everyone to comment on my every post. In fact most of my mundane or even the subjectively extraordinary status updates draw little comment. But I did get to thinking - "I wonder how I would react if I saw this in one of my long-time friends' status box."
It seems a bit of an indictment on my expectations of relationships that I can so easily slip into scepticism. I think if I did read that about someone else my first unbidden reaction would be along the lines of "who with?" (or "with whom?" if I was in a grammatical frame of mind). I would be timid about responding because I would be wondering if a marriage/relationship had ended/ if the person was engaged in a racy affair/ if there was some gossip I hadn't been privy to.
On a regular basis I feel moved when I see signs of that deep kind of love between two people that has grown and deepened over 30/40/50 years. Recently I met a couple who had celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Churches do seem to be a place I see this kind of love - although not the only place - inspiring people who somehow live the phrase 'enduring love'
It was the protagonist couple who most caught my imagination in MacEwan's novel of the same name. How quick the wife was to leap to the conclusion that her now-deceased husband was with another woman in the hours preceding his death. How irritated she was by his altruism, and his persistence, that made no difference to the outcome for the child in the runaway balloon, but which deprived her of his presence. How remorseful when she learned the surprising truth of his meandering country drive that fateful afternoon. How easily I can be like her.
And in case there's any doubt I love being in love with the wonderful man who first mowed my lawn 23 years ago and who has shared my life ever since. Enduring isn't quite the right adjective; it seems to imply hardship or difficulty or something along those lines. I prefer a movie title from a little more recently 'Love Actually'
It seems a bit of an indictment on my expectations of relationships that I can so easily slip into scepticism. I think if I did read that about someone else my first unbidden reaction would be along the lines of "who with?" (or "with whom?" if I was in a grammatical frame of mind). I would be timid about responding because I would be wondering if a marriage/relationship had ended/ if the person was engaged in a racy affair/ if there was some gossip I hadn't been privy to.
On a regular basis I feel moved when I see signs of that deep kind of love between two people that has grown and deepened over 30/40/50 years. Recently I met a couple who had celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Churches do seem to be a place I see this kind of love - although not the only place - inspiring people who somehow live the phrase 'enduring love'
It was the protagonist couple who most caught my imagination in MacEwan's novel of the same name. How quick the wife was to leap to the conclusion that her now-deceased husband was with another woman in the hours preceding his death. How irritated she was by his altruism, and his persistence, that made no difference to the outcome for the child in the runaway balloon, but which deprived her of his presence. How remorseful when she learned the surprising truth of his meandering country drive that fateful afternoon. How easily I can be like her.
And in case there's any doubt I love being in love with the wonderful man who first mowed my lawn 23 years ago and who has shared my life ever since. Enduring isn't quite the right adjective; it seems to imply hardship or difficulty or something along those lines. I prefer a movie title from a little more recently 'Love Actually'
Saturday, October 17, 2009
In my shoes
I love the movie 'In her shoes' so it was a delight to find the Friday Five posted by Jan this week has some connection with that. Jan writes
On Your Feet!
Too often the Friday Fives I offer up seem extremely introspective, so here's something that could be fun. I notice as I finish my sixth decade that my taste in footwear is much different than when I was younger, as comfort wins out over fashion. So look at your feet and think about what you put on them!
1. What is your favorite footwear at this time in your life?
Gorgeous little grey kitten heel shoes that I bought at the Camper sale in Melbourne when I was visiting that city.
2. What was the craziest shoe, boot, or sandal you ever wore?
Well now, also in my sixth decade, I would have to say those platform sandals of the eighties. I had three favourite pairs: Blue, brown with large studs connecting top to sole, and a kind of yellow/orangey pair with flowers on.
3. What kind of shoes did you wear in your childhood? Barefoot as much as possible, or jandals or roman sandals. Gumboots in winter of course, and some shiny black or white patent leather shoes for Sunday. I also remember a brown pair with a darker toe - seemed very sophisticated and grown-up at the time.
4. How do you feel most comfortable? Barefoot, flip-flops, boots, or what?
Definitely barefoot, or with slippers in winter. Jandals in the backyard. For walking my Merrill shoes give the best ever support, even if they're not too 'pretty'. But most of the time, as now, you'll find me shoeless!
5. What kind of socks do you like, if any?
Merino/possum for warmth. Cotton sports for exercise. And a cute pair with koalas on to help me feel at home in this new country.
Bonus: Anything you want to share about feet or footwear.
The gumboot song This link comes with sound effects!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Psalm 22 (for today)
Prayer of praise and confession
There are times Godde when you seem so far away
We cry out in vain and cannot hear your voice
All night we toss and turn and cannot rest
Yet you are holy
In everyday conversations
As well as commemorations and celebrations
We tell and hear stories of Jesus
bringing life in fullness
You are holy
Holy God you are with us
In the minutiae and intimacy of every day
A mother feeding her child
A post-tsunami family
missing members from each generation
Lives intertwined
You do not hide from us Holy God
You hear our cries
We praise you in this congregation
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to you
All the families of the nations shall worship before you
May our song of praise echo through time to future generations
So that a people yet unborn will know
You are Holy
You stand beside us Holy Godde
When we recognise our distance from you
And our need of your forgiveness
We thank you for the words we can trust:
The poor shall eat and be satisfied
All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Lord
Our sins are forgiven
Thanks be to Godde
Our Father ...
Saturday, September 19, 2009
A brilliant Friday Five from Jan
Friday Five: Where on the Stairs?
1. at the bottom?
The bottoms related a lot to my introverted tendency to internalise and concretise the religious messages I heard - so that when I got home from school and my mother was not in the house (of course she was usually out the back in garden or whatever) my immediate gut reaction was that the stories were true and Jesus had come again and I was not good enough and had been left behind. The real bottom was one particular day when a sibling was being subjected to an undeserved punishment and I was torn between lying and saying that I committed the misdemeanour (which I hadn't but it would have spared the pain of someone younger than me) and acting like Jesus who took the punishment (but he never had to lie and say he had done something wrong when he hadn't).
2. at the top?
That total security of being loved and part of a world and universe much bigger than myself that also comes from a conservative evangelical background. Stories of faith were lived out in our immediate and extended family with aunts and parents' cousins coming back from their exotic 'overseas' (see below) missionary endeavours with ivory tusked elephant statues and eloborate carpets, songs in strange tongues and faces that seemed to reflect a joy and passion that was inspiring and contagious.
3. halfway?
Those moments of realising that my parents were not indeed 'all-knowing' Two occasions that come to mind are asking my father how the colour of my dress came out the same colour in the photograph he took and he tried spinning me a line about a little man inside the camera who painted the colours onto the film. And asking why New Zealand was only one place but 'overseas' was lots of places. Again poor Dad bore the brunt of this as he explained that there were a lot of places in New Zealand. I just knew that the difference between Hamilton and Auckland was NOT THE SAME the difference between France and Scotland. But I couldn't work out how to ask my question. It felt kind of frustrating. Looking back I just love my perception that there were two constitutional entities "New Zealand" and "overseas". Links to my bemusement at reading an English children's illustrated dictionary where the definition of 'abroad' (a term we didn't use in the antipodes) showed a man in a suit with a case and the explanatory sentence was something like 'Uncle went abroad'.
4. At this point in your life, where would you place yourself on your own stairway?
This can only be answered by Doug Savage
5. Identify a place for you that "isn't really anywhere" but "somewhere else instead."
The train (or bus) - the daily commute. It's not in the household, it's not in the town; it's not at the desktop, it's not at the sink; it's not with my family, it's not with my students. One of the reasons I resist getting a laptop to start work en route. And why the train is probably where more than 80% of my iPod listening and my knitting occurs. It is somewhere else instead!
Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.
Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up,
And isn't down.
it isn't in the nursery,
it isn't in the town.
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really
Anywhere!
It's somewhere else
Instead!"
— A. A. Milne
“Halfway Down,” When We Were Very Young
Thinking of your childhood as a stairway, when did you feel (and how did you feel then)
1. at the bottom?
The bottoms related a lot to my introverted tendency to internalise and concretise the religious messages I heard - so that when I got home from school and my mother was not in the house (of course she was usually out the back in garden or whatever) my immediate gut reaction was that the stories were true and Jesus had come again and I was not good enough and had been left behind. The real bottom was one particular day when a sibling was being subjected to an undeserved punishment and I was torn between lying and saying that I committed the misdemeanour (which I hadn't but it would have spared the pain of someone younger than me) and acting like Jesus who took the punishment (but he never had to lie and say he had done something wrong when he hadn't).
2. at the top?
That total security of being loved and part of a world and universe much bigger than myself that also comes from a conservative evangelical background. Stories of faith were lived out in our immediate and extended family with aunts and parents' cousins coming back from their exotic 'overseas' (see below) missionary endeavours with ivory tusked elephant statues and eloborate carpets, songs in strange tongues and faces that seemed to reflect a joy and passion that was inspiring and contagious.
3. halfway?
Those moments of realising that my parents were not indeed 'all-knowing' Two occasions that come to mind are asking my father how the colour of my dress came out the same colour in the photograph he took and he tried spinning me a line about a little man inside the camera who painted the colours onto the film. And asking why New Zealand was only one place but 'overseas' was lots of places. Again poor Dad bore the brunt of this as he explained that there were a lot of places in New Zealand. I just knew that the difference between Hamilton and Auckland was NOT THE SAME the difference between France and Scotland. But I couldn't work out how to ask my question. It felt kind of frustrating. Looking back I just love my perception that there were two constitutional entities "New Zealand" and "overseas". Links to my bemusement at reading an English children's illustrated dictionary where the definition of 'abroad' (a term we didn't use in the antipodes) showed a man in a suit with a case and the explanatory sentence was something like 'Uncle went abroad'.
4. At this point in your life, where would you place yourself on your own stairway?
This can only be answered by Doug Savage
5. Identify a place for you that "isn't really anywhere" but "somewhere else instead."
The train (or bus) - the daily commute. It's not in the household, it's not in the town; it's not at the desktop, it's not at the sink; it's not with my family, it's not with my students. One of the reasons I resist getting a laptop to start work en route. And why the train is probably where more than 80% of my iPod listening and my knitting occurs. It is somewhere else instead!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
List
Interview timetable - done
Interviewers confirmed - delegated (congratulations welcome) and in progress
Contact with unsuccessful applicants asking why - done (except one who is away for a week)
Response to all students requesting transfer - done
This years performance reviews - done or delegated (ditto congratulations above)
Judging PBL dress-up day (don't ask - yes these are graduate entry mature students ... yes they are having a dress-up competition ... yes I have advised them that a display of contraceptive devices is inappropriate in the context of a Catholic University) on track for tomorrow
Card to Maddie - posted
leave work before 7 pm - will do
Well with soul - ALL!
Interviewers confirmed - delegated (congratulations welcome) and in progress
Contact with unsuccessful applicants asking why - done (except one who is away for a week)
Response to all students requesting transfer - done
This years performance reviews - done or delegated (ditto congratulations above)
Judging PBL dress-up day (don't ask - yes these are graduate entry mature students ... yes they are having a dress-up competition ... yes I have advised them that a display of contraceptive devices is inappropriate in the context of a Catholic University) on track for tomorrow
Card to Maddie - posted
leave work before 7 pm - will do
Well with soul - ALL!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
when all is done ...
Catapulted into leadership, it has been a bit dizzying the past few weeks. Rolling out a medical education programme over four new sites where much of the detail remains in the institutional memory of the staff who have left. Mainly a stimulating challenge - there have been moments of desperation. Culminating in a massive migraine on Friday (never felt this bad since a very early one about 40 years ago) - washed out day yesterday and most wonderful day today. For Father's Day the daughter-who-lives-nearby suggested the Bondi-Coogee walk. It was lovely to see the daughter-father bonding, enjoy the amazing sea vistas, mosey on home around the waterfront. Then into the garden, harvesting kumquats, baking cakes and relaxing. Work emails checked so no surprises tomorrow but this has truly been a WEEKEND (not a chance to slip back into the office and try to clear the desk). Tomorrow we will be finalising the interview schedule for the hopeful 2010 applicants, getting the final examination papers for this year underway. And hopefully taking some of the clifftop sense of rhythm and grace into a new week of discovery. It can be easy to feel blessed in the gentle eddy and flow of life; it is such a privilege to feel blessed when seemingly pushed to the edge of personal resourcefulness. Blessed indeed.
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