Thursday, 26 April 2012
A Time & Place to Reflect
Sunday, 22 April 2012
Wade in the Water, Swim in the Sea
I’m having trouble remembering exactly how long it’s been since I ventured into the ocean, apart from in a boat that is. Paddling in the shallows in Tasmanian waters is not the most inviting of pastimes, even in summer, unless you want frozen toes, and my last recollection of getting completely wet while at the beach ended in pain and suffering from a bluebottle jellyfish sting back in my Queensland days in the early 90s.
Have traversed Bass Strait via the Spirit of Tasmania on a number of occasions, a few of which have been far from smooth sailing, but there was never a question that I wasn’t safe and secure. I love walking along the beach fossicking in rock pools and watching a perfect sunset reflected on the water. Walking into a bracing wind along a pier with the waves broiling underneath makes me feel alive, and the sight of yachts and fishing boats tied up at their moorings herald a whole other world of enjoyment, challenge, livelihood and lifestyle.
The ocean has a lot going for it, but its moods can change, and if you’re not prepared, danger is not far away. Nightly news broadcasts offer up tragedies on a regular basis, from anglers swept off the rocks, to shark attacks, dangerous rips, an innocent day’s fishing with mates ending in loss of life, storms whipping up the sea into a frenzy from which many never return. Many a day on or in the water begun in excited anticipation has ended in disaster.
But we keep heading out there. For some reason we are not deterred and probably, somewhat foolishly, believe we are somehow immune from such mishaps. I watch with incredible admiration the exploits of those who pit their skills against the elements and succeed, but there are those like me who tend to watch from the safety of the shoreline with a degree of envy for those who are game to take the risk.
The imagery is pretty obvious here I know, but I wonder sometimes how much of my life is lived with barely a toe poked in the water. The water is inviting, lots of people seem to be quite at ease and having a great time, but there’s some pretty scary stuff out there too. You don’t have to venture far before you can find you’re out of your depth, not to mention the rocks strategically placed for you to crash into, or the creatures of the deep lying in wait to scare the living daylights out of you or devour you if they feel like it.
We all have our daily battles, whether external or internal, and both can be as debilitating when it comes to finding our place in the world and feeling like we matter and have a purpose. Facing what has to be done in the next year, month, week, day or even minute, for progress to be made, skills developed, confidence and trust to be built, for hope to rise that the future can be so much more than the present, takes courage.
Venturing from the known to the unknown always holds elements of both excitement and fear, and unfortunately most of us rarely get to see what we’re capable of because the obstacles overwhelm us. To move beyond the fear, to see beyond the rocks, we actually have to venture further than the water lapping around our ankles and make a move, a first step, a commitment.
We have to wade in the water, swim in the sea.
Saturday, 7 April 2012
2012 - Not what I'd expected
So far, 2012 is languishing waaay down the bottom of my list of favourite years. Since the end of January my old war wound of a back injury came back to haunt me big time, warranting a ride in an ambulance, some unnamed weird virus laid me low, broke a tooth, had a 3 day migraine, plus a mild attack of shingles which was probably sparked by said unnamed virus, nearly swallowed a jack jumper ant which could’ve killed me, and 3 major jack jumper ant nests in the garden have since sprung up and needed to be dealt with.
No doubt they heard along the grapevine that one of their mates had been slaughtered through no fault of his own, and put a three pronged strategy into place to do away with me once and for all. In the end I won, with not a sting having found its mark, not bad seeing as I squooshed at least two hundred or more as they fled from the ant powder.
But that’s not all, or should I say, that’th not all. Bethideth breaking a tooth which wath filled a couple of weekth ago, the tooth next to it had to come out the other day. Poor old molar had been living on borrowed time for quite a while and wath cauthing an infection, tho after two X-rayth and much dithcuthon, out it came. That wathn’t the bad part though, in fact there wath altho a funny part, but the down thide wath that the tooth which wath filled now had a razor tharp edge on it which I didn’t dithcover until the numbneth went away.
Thuddenly I had thith Mt Everetht carving up the underthide of my tongue which I’m having to put up with until the firtht working day after Eathter. Hard to eat, I thound like I’m thpeaking with a mouthful of marthmallowth. Very difficult to keep your tongue behind your bottom teeth I’ve found, it really doth have a mind of itth own, but not thpeaking ith minimithing the damage.
The amusing part of the whole thing was the injections before the whole drama. After two injections I didn’t seem to be going numb in the right place, so to make sure I wasn’t going to feel anything, in went injection number 3, giving me a facial block. Wasn’t till I was driving home I realised what a facial block does. My right eye wouldn’t close, it was like I’d tripped and landed face first in a box of Botox needles, and my left eye was blinking furiously wondering why its mate wasn’t cooperating. Rather disconcerting, had to hold my eye shut, took a few hours to wear off before it could close of its own accord.
So with all these things assailing me from left and right, I’m trusting this is not a foretaste of what this year has in store for me. I’m tending towards a more positive outlook, hoping that my entire year’s ills have been dealt with in one fell swoop, and that the rest of the year is ready and waiting for me to take it on at full throttle.
That ith, ath thoon ath I get thith darn tooth thmoothed off.