My partner's family holds their family Christmas on Boxing Day, and this year we received an intriguing invitation to start a new tradition. The Rawson family had recently agreed to give a donation to charity instead of giving Christmas gifts; a few days before we were due to meet, my sister-in-law, Jo, came up with another new idea: to evolve the old tradition of exchanging boxes filled with gifts into a new tradition of sharing boxes filled with personal thoughts and insights and wishes.
Coming from a Jewish family, Christmas was never part of my childhood identity, and when I 'married into' the tradition, I was struck by many contradictions. In particular the much commented on commercialisation of Christmas. I always found it odd to hear people talking about Christmas shopping as if it was an expected duty (read: burden) – 'Have you done your Christmas shopping yet?'
I've been experiencing a little rash of minor health issues in the last few months. Looking back on the year, I notice that it's been pretty full on. You know how they measure stress and reckon that separation and moving house are high on the Stress Richter Scale? Well, here's my list (so far!) ...
I'm so proud of my son, Jeremy. A few weeks ago he moved out of home for the first time, bursting with the excitement of being truly independent. (The rest of the household quickly reorganised the house so that our daughters now have their own rooms – they're rapt! – and we have more efficient office space, and so we were hoping he wouldn't find that he couldn't manage and had to come back home, as there isn't any room for him anymore... A bit like that ad on TV where the 'young adult-child' returns home only to find his old bedroom is now a new bathroom.)
In Jeremy's case, I'm pretty sure that, no matter how tough it gets, he won't be back. He is determined to live independently. And he is certainly stepping up to the challenge.
Last week I went shopping with my 16 year old twin daughters to buy new shoes for their respective hobbies: ballet pointe shoes for one daughter and soccer boots for the other. I rather loved that outing because it was such a confirmation of our trust in our kids.
Having twins brings up all sorts of issues that we don't have to consider with children that come by-one-one. In particular, their individuality. Does one deliberately put twins into different classes and hobbies, or even schools, so that they develop their individuality, or does one allow them to decide how soon they are ready to diverge?
Last night Derek and I headed to an event at the Emerging Writer's Festival. The topic was 'sex in literature', which interested us for reasons that I'll share down the track, however the actual event was titled 'Dirty Words' and this proved to be the theme of the day.
I'd been hoping to hear a wide-ranging sample of writings about sex – some raunchy, some thoughtful, some 'dirty', some sacred – but most of what was presented was comic, sad or tacky. And it was all contemporary. The comic skits were, mostly, quite enjoyable, but by the time we got to the end we both left feeling flat and disappointed. It seemed to us that most people view sex as sex; there was nothing about making love, nothing about the sacredness or intimacy of that connection. I've decided that I must offer myself as a speaker next time and represent the 'Other Side'!
If you've been following my blogs, you'll be aware that Derek, my partner of 22 years, headed off to follow his dreams a few weeks ago. Last week my daughters and I travelled to NSW to visit him, expecting that we would then return to Melbourne and not see him again for another 10 weeks or so. (See previous blog entries: 'Trusting Our Paths', 'House Hunting', and 'Amazing Synchronicity').
Derek is returning home. His willingness to trust that urge to go north and not resist it allowed him to fully feel and experience what he needed to up there, and he is now complete with that journey and will be heading back home soon.
Well, it's happening! Derek, my life-partner of 22 years, headed off last weekend to follow his dreams, as described in my 'Trusting Our Paths' blog of a few weeks ago.
So he's now in northern NSW and I'm here in Melbourne with our kids, and we are all stepping forward into the unknown. Saturday was pretty tearful for both of us, as we did those last few things and said our goodbyes and he drove away, but we are so certain that we are each doing the right thing that, aside from the sadness of diverging directions, we literally are 'trusting our paths'.
I recently came upon some information that suggests that the earthquake in Japan was man-made by an American organisation called HAARP, which is able to vibrationally affect the earth and thus trigger off earthquakes.
This sort of thing is very shocking, not just physically (for Japan), but emotionally and mentally for all of us when we consider the implications of either climate change or human bullying (if the 'man-made' claim is true). I know that I reacted emotionally to the clip I posted when I first watched it, and I'm grateful to my Demartini-trained coach and friend Rowan Burn for a conversation that rebalanced my perspective on it.
“Let there be spaces in your togetherness,” says Kahlil Gibran, but I don’t think he meant a whole state.
Nonetheless, my life partner of 22 years is about to drive north to follow his dream of living sustainably in a small country town in NSW. I love that vision, and we love each other deeply and are best friends, but I’m not drawn to go north at this time, so I’m staying here in Melbourne with our three teenagers.
The dust has settled on our house move at last! It seems to have taken AGES. Which I guess is realistic when you are moving five people and effectively three home-based businesses. So if I seem to have been silent for a while, that is why!
I do love moving house though. Apart from how physically tiring it is, it's such a great way to clean up and sort out and release old stuff that is no longer needed. And I enjoy the stimulation of a new place.
How we arrived at this new place is such a stunning tale that I must share it.
It looks like seven years of prayers for rain have all been processed at once! I can just imagine someone up in the heavens getting through their backlog of Prayer Requests from drought-ridden Australian farmers and frustrated gardeners, and giving all those Requests the official stamp of approval...
Only to set up a huge surge of prayers for the end of rain. It's almost unbelievable, this steady emptying of the skies, the constant dampness and puddles. Even paper and envelopes are feeling limp, heavy with the moistness in the air, and nothing dries properly. For summer in Melbourne to be green and not yellow is a sight for sore eyes, but our pleasure in that is tempered by knowledge of the calamity up north.
Usually I feel very optimistic as a new year approaches because I enjoy the 'fresh start/new opportunities' feeling it brings, but as 2010 drew to a close I was feeling quite low, so I'm writing this blog for myself as much as for you, since I have rather a lot of challenges to face at the moment.
For example, our house. We're moving again – lots of reasons – and it seems to have taken much longer than usual to find the house we like and have our application accepted. That process of delays and obstacles was starting to get me down, and I was having to keep reminding myself of the motto in The Mastery Club: 'See the Invisible, Hear the Silent, Do the Impossible...'.
I've been watching '49 Up', the UK documentary in which a number of English boys and girls are interviewed at age seven, and then every seven years thereafter. The program makes compelling viewing, and I'm very grateful to each of the contributors for sharing so honestly. I'm especially grateful given that several of them confess to their discomfort with the periodic interviews, saying that they dread this intrusion in their lives, don't enjoy revealing their personal issues on camera, and find it unpleasant that viewers interpret their lives in ways that are simply not accurate.