Fun

Lately I think I have been neglecting to have fun.

I think I have been so seriously wrapped up in the process of being an adult; in navigating the paths of change in my life, discovering the depths of my spirituality and so yearning to learn and grow…that I have neglected to seek out simple joyous fun in my life.

And as explored in my previous blog… I believe that this is tied up in me accepting my humanity.

Because to be wholly human means there needs to be a measure of laughter, bursts of silliness, rainfalls of joy, fistfuls of fun and moments of complete spontaneity.

We should not always take life so seriously.  

I feel like a frowny old woman at the moment who contemplates the stars and the heavens wondering about their hugeness and how they hang there in such nothingness, worrying about when they might come crashing down violently on her throbbing thinking head… but does not actually see their shining beauty.

I feel like I’ve had my head down for so long in the book of life trying to calculate its sums and understand its double meanings that I look up dizzy and light headed with grand ideas banging around in my head like boulders…and surprise, surprise life seems like a long arduous journey where I must just simply grit my teeth and get through it.

A wise person once said to a friend of mine that joy is one of the most important things in life and that he should make more time in his life to seek fun and silliness and that life will spring forth with joy aplenty.

That wise person was me.

And the awful thing is, that most who know me know that I have this completely ridiculous side that loves nothing more than to have a great laugh whilst mildly embarrassing myself in some childish way. I love a good joke. I love to have fun an forget worries.

I say awful because I sort of momentarily forgot that was me.

But I must listen to the wise me that isn’t just wanting to tackle all the big questions of why? How do I become better? But also listen to the wise me that has pointed out that life without spontaneity, foolish frivolity and a good ol laugh isn’t going to be really that full of life and colour anyway.

And it’s not just fun through silliness, but through adventure, in nature, with friends, in activity and in the pursuit of something that doesn’t necessarily add to your inner most being….but just is good ol fashioned fun!!! Like bouncing on a big trampoline or playing sardines with your friends, or painting your nails or making a camp fire in your back yard, or singing along to songs on video hits and making up dance moves.

I feel as adults we often believe we need to have a reason to have fun, or we suffer from nasty niggling guilt trips. I know I do. It’s like, yes I am allowed to have fun painting, but as long as I am painting from a deep emotional place and learning about myself in the process. And yes I am allowed to have fun taking photos, but as long as I am blessing someone else with some lovely photos of their kids….

It is such rubbish really… because fun in itself is good and wonderful.

From the transition from child to adult, our eyes are also opened to the suffering in and of this world and the all of a sudden there is so much responsibility on our shoulders. It can feel like a continuous burden sometimes, and on top of that a never ending list begins to start of all that we SHOULD be doing. There is never enough time for all that we could be doing to better the lives of others and to keep our lives running smoothly and presentable.

So fun can get such a back seat. It can be overlooked and undermined. Sometimes it can even be put into the ‘too hard’ basket when we forget how to naturally and freely enjoy moments of abandoned joy and silliness.

When I was younger one of my favourite things to do was put my guinea pig in a roller skate and scoot it down the hall in my family home. It gave me pure, ecstatic joy to see its little head bobbing down the hall, claws hanging onto the sides like a kid on a show ride.

What made this experience even better was when my little sister and brother were in the bath and I could surprise them by rolling a squealing, fluffy skate past their open bathroom door and I could relish in their delighted screams and punctuated giggles from witnessing such a grand silly thing as a guinea pig on wheels.

Ok not so great for poor little Miffy but what a sense of fun I experienced, and then shared in with my little siblings.

And this is why kids can have fun so much more free-er than us adults.

It’s that connection to innocence and to purity that I think makes fun so exhilarating. That abandonment in feeling and the delicious relishing of a silly moment that makes no logical sense really, but brings such a burst of fresh happiness into our existence.

So heres my resolution.

To have more fun.

Not for the sake of bettering myself (yet paradoxically I will also be doing this as well) but for the reason that it is freeing of that serious burden of progress and success and that it is just

plain

pure

good. 

Angels and Animals

I read an incredibly interesting book called ‘Sex God’ by Rob Bell which had a chapter dedicated to the concept that we are human, which is distinctive from animals or angels. His argument is that when we begin to think of ourselves and act like we are either animals (focused solely on physical needs and overridden by innate desires) or when we act like angels (try to be perfect, not deal with issues, struggles, and emotions but instead be strong and ignore our inner most feelings and desires) that we are not being who we are meant to be.

It made me see that we were clearly set apart from both. And I believe if we are to discover more of who we were made to be, we must make this distinction.

This idea has stayed with me for months.

It has allowed me to breathe easy in a sense, as I accept exactly who I am. A human being – I’m not just a bunch of cells, with neurons firing, blood pumping and heart pumping. I don’t just have a body that needs food, water and shelter in order to procreate to continue the cycle of life on earth… for the sake of life on earth.

I’ve always been told, and know so deeply and innately that I am so much more than this.

This body,

these neurons,

this brain,

this cycle,

this physical existence.

I am so much more than this.

But I am also this.

Paradoxically I have to acknowledge both truths.

Accepting both truths was forgiving almost, for me to realize and acknowledge that yes, I’m also more than my spirit, that as much as my true worth and identity is in who I am on the inside I am not a unattached to what it is to be a physical being who lives with my feet planted firmly in this physical world.

With this knowledge, I am given the freedom to make mistakes, to explore my inner depths, my needs; take wonder in the intricacy of my body, see how I am connected to this world around me through my human experience but also take care of my body, nurture it and not exploit it in foolish endeavors.

It’s a responsibility.

For I am not just my body, but I am not just my soul either.

I am this complicated and wonderful by product of both.  

I am human.

Mountains

Our Mt Barker Home

Even before Sam and I even noticed each other I had a dream about him.

About us.

We were climbing mountains.

This dream meant that Sam was in my mind for the following few days and eventually I decided to text him and tell him he was in my dreams.

Less than one year later we were married.

So the Lord gave me a look from the birds eye, a vision into the future, I believe into what we would be doing in life together.

Climbing, scaling and conquering mountains. (Metaphorically- for sure, but physically well who knows!)

The irony of this is that ever since Sam and I started dating that two weeks later, God no longer gave us this broad sweeping vision of how our life will look from afar, but instead only allowed us to see a few steps ahead at a time. It’s as though we were all of a sudden zoomed into our present existence and encouraged not to look beyond, not to over-plan, but to just listen, to feel that creative movement of the spirit that ushers us forward into the unknown.

Leading us in the spotlight of the present, our future paths are of complete mystery to us and often Sam and I have had no idea where we will be in a few months or weeks. Whether we would be working, where our meals would come from or who would live with us...it has felt very sporadic, but exciting because we knew really... we could be lead anywhere.

But for this I have learnt that there must be a trust in the One who is holding our hands and is guiding us.

A trust in the One who knows the way.

As a friend pointed out to me this evening, the bible reads ‘They word is a lamp unto they feet’ – and that is such a beautiful and true representation of how God leads Sam and I... a flickering light around our feet, guiding our every step, each one important in itself but where its leading and the places we will visit and all we will experience and learn and give and grow on this journey are exactly as God would have intended. We don’t need to see exactly what’s around the corner and we definitely do not need to worry, as we are held and we are lead.

However this dream I had of scaling mountains, this calling to adventure and mystery is a vague guide of where we are headed and it reminds us that we aren't just walking willy-nilly into a great expanse of nothingness with a random colliding of cells and atoms... but that we are being lead with purpose and with an expected joy that we will arrive exactly where we are meant to be.

Sam and I are at a bit of a cross roads at present.

We have been living in a great little spot called Mt Barker. It has been a refuge and place of rest for us after our time spent in Germany.

In a few week s we must leave this place.

Whilst praying we were lead to the following verses in Deuteronomy.

“You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Break camp and advance into the hill countries...into the foothills.”

This was such an encouragement for us as we were leaving an actual mountain (well a teeny tiny mountain) Mt Barker and metaphorically we were on a new journey, headed once again into the unknown, surely to embark on a new adventure. We are also seeking to live and will be living in what is known as the foothills of Adelaide.

You may scoff and laugh and think we are romantic and we read too much into things, but without a doubt, this was confirmation for us that these next few steps were the right thing for us, where we were meant to be going. These words were the light upon our feet.

Life is anything but predictable, and anyone who believes they have control over it only has to turn on the TV to see how much we are at the whim of so many forces. We are all flailing in the wind but for the grace of the one who pulls us down to an unshaken ground.

 So I’ve been learning to take what comes even if that is so not how I envisioned it to be and not to be overly surprised when God provides right at the last minute (as he always seems to do) or not to expect things to be as I think because they hardly ever are. And Thank God for that, because they are usually so much better!..and definitely the best for me, the best for us.

It’s exciting, and it’s scary, and to some I’m sure it seems irresponsible and idealistic, but it’s the way in which God is leading us at the moment and that is what matters.  

Sometimes I imagine myself as an old lady, looking back and mapping out our journeys, making a painting of our lives, writing the story of all the paths we’ve taken and smiling knowingly...seeing just how far we have come. I imagine that in my elderly wisdom I will be able to see the way in which God has lead us, with a red ball of wool up the mountains, through the traumas, the joys and the pitfalls and everyday sorrow and fullness , leading us back home, into ourselves and into him.

That would be grand...

But right now I will take each day, each step as a blessing and aim to run with abandonment into a future that is secure. Whether I make it to be that old lady or not doesn’t really matter. Because I know with each step that I am headed home.

My Shmad

My Shmad.


I'll tell you something about my Shmaddo.


He loves to share.


He seems to have this childlike joy in sharing in his favourite things with other people.


His favourite things to share include:


any new technological device... (at the moment its the i-pad)
chocolate or licorice
books
theological lectures
cds/music
movies
musicals
sayings


You know this sharing is about to begin cause Dad will turn to you, or Mum or whoever is in the room and say ...' you would LOVE this' and this usually means...'I LOOOVE this... and I want to share it with you.'


He coudn't emphasize the word love anymore if he tried during these statements.


He then starts shaking his leg if his kness are crossed, or knocking his knees if they are not, itches his nose with enthused eyes and repeats even more convincingly...'No really, your going to love this.'


His eyes glisten, he bounces around on his toes and he has this look on his face when he is doing the sharing like ' yeah, yeah, it's good isn't it'. He loves being the one to show others something new, something hip and interesting...even if it isn't particularly new...or cool for that matter.


And here lies the first  problem... Dad being Dad...well he isn't really very cool at all . (sorry Dad)


Let me show you what I mean...


His favourite music at the moment iiiissss.... Susan Boyle....You see.. he ambushes one of my unsuspected friends and tells them a little too enthusiastically that they will 'LOVE this' he then proceeds to put the music on a little too loudly for comfortable hearing. Dad stares at 'said friend' (who is trying not to laugh and grimace at the same time) with an excited smile glued on his moon shaped face waiting for the positive reaction he so hopes. A simple nod or polite 'nice' from 'said friend' sends Daddio off on a high pitched sing along with Sue-bo and more of his self-satisfied shaking legs and knees. Said friend looks at me like...'HAHAHAHAHAHA' but encourages Dad anyway because...well they are lovely.


Another example.


His favourite saying at the moment is 'chill' or 'chilled'. Once a cool way of seemingly aloof and 'whatever', is now just a patronizing and out-dated word that should by no means be said by anyone above the age of about 40. Sorry Dad. Sharing this word with every person you see twice in any conversation just is not cool and does not make you seem very 'chill'.


Second problem... sometimes his over excitement at sharing sort of counteracts the goodness of that which is being shared.


Once again an example...


Valentines Day a few weeks ago, Mum gets him a box of his absolute favourite Lindt chocolate. Sam and I are over for dinner and its almost time to eat. Having just received his chocolate he gets so excited that he turns to us both with a prided puffed up chest and raised eye brows of delight and proclaims 'Ohhh this chocolate is so good, have you heard of it...it's called Lindt...you'll LOVE it, here have one'. He proceeds to graciously share his bounty of chocolate with us, demanding we try a piece of each flavour even though its only a few minutes till dinner! He simply couldn't wait to share.


And THIS raises another matter of my father's uncoolness - EVERYONES TRIED LINDT!! (He is often about five minutes behind in all forms of trends) Yet he introduces it like it is this exotic chocolate gold from a far away country that he personally himself discovered. He does this with everything. ('Have you heard of this i-pad device...you'll LOVE it. Its touch screen you know.')


How unfair am I though? What a whinger I am!! What a cow to put down my darling Daddy as he shares his very favourite chocolate with me!!


But before you start writing righteous comments about my lack of appreciation for my fathers beautifully innocent and wonderfully gracious character...just hear me out ok.


You see I know why Shmaddo is like this. He just LOVES to see other people take joy in things that he too takes joy in, that he discovered and that he can offer to them as a gift of incredible experience. He can look on all full hearted like a sweet little puppy dog and lap up the excess joy that they are experiencing that tastes even sweeter because it was HIS IDEA!


But here is the hardest part of all of this whole shamozzal,


Dad will very rarely be impressed by those things you share with him.


I could come home with a stinking time machine for what its worth and I'd be like..."Dad check this out you'll LOVE it"....and he'll vaguely look over the contraption, absent mindedly fiddle with it, make a few grunting noises and then shoot his head up, stare into middle space and say some thing like ' listen, listen...is that my i-pad automatic newspaper down-loader loading?' and scurry off to the next room to investigate the sound. He would return and proceed to show me this down-loader in all its glory waiting for my excited reaction.


THEN whats even worse is that I would leave feeling agitated and a bit down as I haven't felt that glory of sharing something new with someone and will return to see Shmad guiding Mum around the time machine, exclaiming in grand remarks how it is this incredible new wonderful contraption and how she'll 'just LOVE it'. He'll be doing all he can to get a positive reaction out of her, showing off the functions, buffing its shiny plastic white shell and showing it to her like he BLOODY DISCOVERED IT!


He gives me no satisfaction of sharing but gloats and bathes openly in his sharing feelings like a pig in mud.


So just for the record...Dad is not the soul discoverer and founder of the following...


Any Apple Mac technology
Lindt chocolate
Les Miserables
Any device that allows you to read in bed more comfortably
Germany
The saying 'chill'


You know what, maybe I am being a bit harsh because really whats wrong with a little bit of passion, excitement and sharing in joy. In fact the more I think about it, the more I realize that Dad's desire to share, his wanting others to know, to see, to taste, to feel, to hear what it is that makes him happy, makes him feel alive is nothing but beautiful. In these moments I look at Dad as less of my Father and more of a child caught in the simple joys of living, abandoned in his experience and vulnerable in his expectation of others to appreciate not just what he offers but that part of  HIM that he discovers in all these things. It is actually a joy for me.


And I have to admit... as 'chill' as Susan Boyle is and as great as it is to watch The Les Miserables concert in bed on a stable table with light and mug holder whilst keeping updated on the news via my i-pad, it is way better to unknowingly be watching my father with a full heart show off his new favourite i-pad app or new sporty runners than any of those things.


And Dad...I hope you read this...'you'll LOVE it'

M is for Monday

So it's a Monday.

By far the least favourite day of the week for most. 

As I begin to write about this day, I think of all the millions of people who have gone before me and expressed their two bobs worth about Mondays. Whether that be in blogs, magazine articles, journals, to a friend, status updates, text messages...I'm sure there are so many words floating around in this big universe about everyones lack of happy feelings about this first day of our working weeks.

It never ceases to amaze me how different days actually carry different feelings. It's such a subconscious thing for most of us, and something we accept. We don't really acknowledge or even seem to grasp that we actually have the choice in these feeling...that we have the ability to throw off these feelings and chose something else to wear. Something brighter and lighter, something less miserable and heavy.

This Monday feeling though, compared to all others, I do whole heartedly acknowledge is the worst.

It is like that annoying melancholy friend who follows you everywhere, kicking the back of your heals and when you turn around they offer not much more than a frown and defeated sigh.  AND just when you start to feel good about something this friend whispers some horrid depressing truth into your ear that sends those good feelings tumbling down into dark dank corners to hang out  with their own small depressed small feelings. Like a gang of 'woe is me's' these feelings become acquaintances joined together through self pity. They sit together and sigh dramatically, slump their shoulders and scratch their heads. 

Your poor feelings. 

And all because of this self defeated glum-bum who won't leave you alone. 

And even worse, as I said...we often do nothing about it! Why don't we just turn around and say "Hey. Stop following me you friggin weirdo" Instead we put up with their stale sighs and their rotting energy and sometimes even offer them piggy backs or sit down and indulge in their pathetic stories of how hard life really is...

Don't get me wrong, some people genuinely have problems, no matter the day of the week. But you know it's that Monday friend thats dragging you down if you awake on a Monday and your problems revolve around...

not wanting to start something (ie work, get out of bed, the shower, your blog...),

a general defeated-ness and a grand sense of despair about the lack of good in your life

(even though Saturday night you thought life was full and rich and wonderful),

if you feel the whole world is having a better day that you are and you've only just gotten into the car to drive to work,

or if you feel overwhelmed by the smallest of tasks (making toast) or if any change in your plans causes you to  either start crying or want to go back to bed (there is no toast left).

All signs that you are probably being coerced by the whispers of that woke you up unknowingly 

The good news is that if you were to tell that niggling friend in your ear just to bugger off and embrace, say, the Thursday feeling you probably would have a whole new perspective on things. 

Easier said than done? Not necessarily. 

We put such a massive deal into embracing our feelings that we often forget the power we have to throw them away. To speak the authority we have as choice making individuals and to adopt healthy, happy and hopeful feelings into any day. The way in which we nurture these feelings is individual at the core, but there are certain behaviours we can all adopt to keep that will make Mondays less daunting and keep that stinky, ugly, freak that is following us at bay (ok that was bit harsh I know, but really they are unpleasant).

1. Get up quickly and do not think about bed, soft sheets, sleeping, or the blissful weight of your socked feet on your 'soft as a sheeps back' mattress. Do not lie in bed a little bit longer, do not pass your alarm and collect another two minutes. Get up!

2. Think about how quickly a day generally goes, especially one in which you wear your favourite knickers.

3. Put on your favourite knickers.

4. Take some deep breathes before you leave and say something kind to yourself...in fact say all the kind things you can think about yourself before you leave through the door into your day.

5. Opt for gratitude instead of self-pity. Choose to be positive. Yes it is a choice.

If all else fails, drink coffee, eat chocolate, do some spins on your office chair, watch something simple minded and funny on you-tube or take ridiculous photos of yourself with a Macbook Photomaker where you can make your forehead look like a pineapple. 

All these things are guaranteed to make you feel happier and to keep your niggling nancy pants mopy pal away. 

So I just spent a good part of my Monday writing about it being Monday and now it's almost not even Monday anymore!

Oh yeah, thank God for Tuesdays.

Juliette

I have a friend named Juliette.
She is wonderful.


Whether in the light or crawled into the deep recess's of the darkened shade, to me, she shines.


A soul so intent on opening up the skin and very bones of her existence and assessing them with honest and hopeful eyes. Wanting to excavate within her that which is good, that which is holy and has been placed by One who has hoped in her, hoped in her, hoped in her. Holding it up to the light, I'm sure that she will find that that which is good in her... is in fact all of her, every bit, every limb, every word, every sigh. It is good.

I have a friend named Juliette.

She is wonderful.

A spirit wanting always to be growing, learning and changing more into who she was meant to be. Someone not intent in the stagnant stillness of the comfortable existence, she ever wanders, working her way through this life; her life. A spirit of colour and motion, she passes through the hours and hearts of friends like streaks of colour in the fading days sky. We can't help but turn and be taken by this beauty, be affected by the fullness of such an ordinary but perfect nature of one who lives in colours and is in motion.


Juliette.
She is wonderful.