Category Archives: Better as a Father

When I do things with the kids or they tell me things and I handle them better OR it makes my life better

Better Retired (1 Year) – Happy Birthday Mum

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Well where did that year go. Where did my ‘gap year’ go – did it start.

So a year ago I retired from the Police after 38 years – coincidentally it was on my Mum Gloria’s birthday.  She has been gone now for almost 3 years.

Nothing is permanent.c994218c9dd900cc2722235c2ed5bd5a--retirement-sayings-retirement-cards

We live our lives oblivious to the only one true inevitability – death.

On my final day in the Police there were a few things I wish I had done.  I wonder how big that list will be on my last day alive?

What if that day is today?
On my last day in the Police people asked me how I felt – I said relieved.  I felt the weight of responsibility lift from my shoulders.  Now this was a responsibility I had sworn to uphold (it was an oath I took pretty seriously) and I hoped on occasions I went beyond the call of duty.  Often it wasn’t a duty, it was really an honour.
On my last day on this planet (working on the fact that I will live to be 85 – I have 10423 days left) I wonder if I will think that I had spent my time well.  I wonder if each of those days I have left I will spend well.  As the poem goes, I wonder if I would have spent the Top-5-regrets-for-EL-Mag-VFdash between the date of my birth and the date of my death well.

In thinking, have I spent the last year, my first year of retirement, well.  Firstly, I suppose, I have to define well?  Is it doing what I want to make me happy; doing something that is meaningful; doing things for others – is it all of these things.  And if it is any of them, how do I measure it.

So, I am on the last day of the first year of my retirement – let’s pretend that it is not that day, but a day 10423 days into the future.

So, it is the future, 1st May 2046 and it is my last day and that day is today – I have a few hours left what should I do?  Lets go through the list of what I have been doing and decide what will make the final hours bucket list…..

  • Watching TV (especially Survivor!) – NO
  • Reading or Watching the News – NO  (I actually stopped doing that a few years ago…)
  • Shopping – NO  (what do I need in these final hours – what have I ever actually needed?)
  • Visiting Friends – Some are so far away (and I haven’t spoken to them for so long?)
  • Write Thank You and Sorry Letters – NO  (Wow that’s a long list, do I have time left?)
  • Visit the Kids – NO  (They are so busy – and I know you only miss your folks after they are gone…)
  • Arguing over bills, or money, or politics or religion – who would I argue with?  How would me winning any argument change my last day on earth?
  • Spend it with my Wife – I spend everyday with her, I tell her I love her every day, don’t I?
  • Spend it with Me – But, I know me don’t I (wouldn’t that be a waste of time?)

 

The clock is ticking and I don’t know what to do: there just isn’t enough time to finish everything and do all the important things.  I can’t even work out what the important things are!  I just keep thinking about all the things I have done (regrets and triumphs) and all the things I wont get to do.  I am sitting there as the minutes turn into hours and my final day on earth is disappearing and I haven’t achieved anything meaningful all day…..

Unfortunately all the ‘NOWS’ in my life have become yesterdays or unfulfilled dreams of the future.  What the fuck happened to everyone one of those 2,682,374,400 seconds – I just lived…. tick, tick, tick…. they just seemed to disappear in the noise of my life.

Now it is quiet and I have those final minutes, those final seconds…. what am I thinking….

But, as that clock tick’s those final seconds, each one is NOW: in each one I am alive and I get to truely experience it, the miracle of it, the absolute joy of that one moment….

As that last second ticks, I realise that I had 2,682,374,399 of them, that I may have
missed – glad I noticed that last one.

Back to the present – Lucky for me I actually have 900,547,200 left!IMG_4828

So, today, after 31,536,000 seconds of retirement: 89,683,200 seconds since Mum went to a better place; today on Mum’s Birthday, my ‘retirement day’ I am going to notice each one of those seconds.

I am going to be aware of me, of my life and that, in itself, is a miracle, a joy, and is in fact, right now!

Happy Retirement Day Ian – Happy Birthday Mum.  x

 

Better Father’s Day

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Let’s firstly start off believing that Father’s Day is not a complete commercial fabrication bye170826a7abede21d22cdd4c6934c9a1 the Media (there Merchants of Misery) and that it is a true and genuine recognition of all the wonderful Fathers out there….  okay, now with that done, what really is Father’s Day about.

Is it really just a day where Dad gets breakfast in bed and a new pair of socks – or better still a handmade pottery mug (it used to be an ashtray!) and a handmade card from the kids.  Probably.

But, what about this Father’s Day, being a day for Dad to do something different.

Hey Dad, take this time to say one thing “I am a Dad, wow, how lucky am I.”

As a Dad, through some miracle of nature I got to be immortal – my DNA will go on forever  and there will be people who will remember me for at least a generation or two.  How lucky I am to have the privilege of being a Dad.

On Father’s Day everyone does a lot of thanking Dad, but on this Father’s day I just want to say thanks to my kids.  I want to say thank you for the privilege of being a Dad.

Some days (not only on Father’s Day) I wake up and think to myself I still can’t believe I’m a Dad – and all my kids are in their 20’s.  I sometimes, for no reason, get that little pang in my chest when I think of them for no reason (they are usually 100’s of km’s away at the time) – it is a flash thought about something they said or did, maybe years ago, or maybe last week, but it flashes into your mind and heart in an instant, and there is not feeling like it.  And, we let it pass and get on with our day.

When that feeling comes again, stop!  It doesn’t matter what you re doing, take that moment to have that real experience of being a Dad – that place in your heart that is filled with nothing else except the love for your children.  It’s a magic moment that we take for granted, but comes from nothing else other than being a Dad.

For me Father’s Day is really all about being a Dad.  Not by receiving thanks and presents from my kids, but my being the most grateful man in the world that I have the privilege of gratitudebeing a Dad…. I really still can’t believe it?

My kids are now out in the world making their way.  And I am glad of it for them.  It is their time now and they are out doing what every generation have done before them – the only difference is that it is my kids now.

I don’t mind when they don’t ring, I don’t mind when they still think home is a hotel and food is free and anything in the fridge is fair game.  I don’t mind when they forget appointments, anniversaries, birthdays or can’t make it to family dinner – I genuinely don’t mind one little bit….  I miss them, but I don’t mind.

Sometimes when I just sit and listen to their stories about their lives and I offer no sage Fatherly advice, I just listen – that is the moment that matters.

Sometimes when I am cleaning out old draws and I find an old picture they drew in primary school (I think it is a cat, or maybe a cow – it could be a house) – that is the moment that matters.

Sometimes when I look at old pictures, when they were small and hugging me like I was the only person in the world – that is the moment that matters.

An all these moments fade into the distance because when they do remember, when they somehow get lost and stumble back home, when they ring because they need you or just want to tell you a story…. in the instance that the phone rings or I hear the knock on the door and it is them – that is the moment I cherish the most, that is the moment that matters.

Fathers Day to me is a day for me.  It is a day were I take all of those moments, good and bad, and realise I am lucky, my kids are a miracle, and being a Dad is the best present my children have ever given me – and I wrapped it myself.

Happy Father’s Day.

 

 

Better Ideas in THE TANK

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My wife and I are both very communicative – in other words we talk a lot – we; mainly me. She reckons most of the time she talks I’m not listening anyway.

I loved a little anecdote I read about that on Facebook the other day which said “The best person to tell all your secrets to is your Husband – he won’t tell anyone because he wasn’t listening in the first place” – oh, how terribly so true!

But on the rare occasion we are listening and it ends in an argument is because:

  1. We weren’t actually listening and misunderstood.
  2. Our wife was breaking the cardinal rule – “You can tell me what to do, or how to do it, but not both.”
  3. We actually don’t listen, don’t want to listen – we just want to give advice and fix the problem.34ef47b7011b1b758e89e1aa164b1220--social-networks-social-media-marketing
  4. It’s about the kids and we are on the wrong side (e.g. whoever’s side we are on – with the kids or against them, it is the wrong side!)
  5. It is about in-laws (see above point 4)
  6. One of their girlfriends (see above point 4 and 5)
  7. We are sharing ideas that have two different aspects:
    1. It is my idea and it is the best idea in the world
    2. It is your idea which is dumb and cost too much

It is the last point which I think is the most important. We all have about a million ideas a day – most we don’t share as the wife is sick of the next ‘sure thing get rich quick scheme’ – so you keep most of them to yourself – we do actually do a Google search and realise most of our brilliant ideas were discovered decades ago – but we live and dream in hope.

But…. maybe one of these ideas which can be about anything could be THE ONE. How do we get to talk about it and not end up in a “You shut up, No you shut up” never-ending time loop.

The answer is having THE TANK.

My wife and I love to drive and chat – the old adage, it is not the destination but the journey is true for us and we spend kilometre after kilometre discussing our lives, our families, our work and the danger subject of our ideas (which includes comments on existing situations, people, problems or plans). The kilometres would disappear as we chatted about everything – OR – each centimetre would seem like a kilometre for endless hours after the ‘ideas discussion’ degenerated into the argument about ….. well, most times, when you look back you can’t figure out what the argument was about.

So we invented THE TANK.tankhedt

Any idea, any comment, any criticism, and accolade can go in THE TANK.

It is a place where you put them all to ferment, to rest, to age, to mingle with other ideas and you see what happens. Okay, this doesn’t sound like the epiphany moment where all things are solved but it is the place where they can be.

My wife and I will often start a conversation with “Tank, Tank what about we……”

Initially it was a lot of training through the formalities before we have gotten to the “Tank, Tank” introduction which initially started out (tentatively) through various conversations such as:

“I am going to go out and start looking a new cars this afternoon…. just putting that in The Tank?”

 

“I’m think so-and-so is a bloody idiot the way they spoke to me and are wrong…. Just in The Tank – what do you thing…. in The Tank.”

 

“Hey, in The Tank, I was thinking…..”

In addition it was underpinned by a few rules (which we started with and they splashed into The Tank):

  1. Thou shall not judge – judging is the hand break to ideas
  2. Thou shall not comment on someone else’s idea until they ask you to – negative comments stifle ideas
  3. Thou shall not edit – be allowed to get it all out, tidy up later
  4. Thou shall not execute – no detail, go big and broad first; the doing is later
  5. Thou shall not worry – it hasn’t happened yet – its an idea
  6. Thou shall not look backwards – learn from the past but don’t relive it
  7. Thou shall not lose focus – stay focused on the problem (or if you are splashing out – splash out big!)
  8. Thou shall not sap energy – don’t be the Six-Percenter
  9. Write it down – a quick note saves the moment

It is amazing how conversations which were started with the wrong phrase, sentence, word, look which you can feel are increasing your blood pressure by the millisecond are flicked off in both the head and heart when it is concluded with “….. I just thought I’d put that in The Tank”

Okay, it sounds silly and we have all attempted the ‘password’ or ‘key phrase’ to avert relationship disaster which, in the moment when it was most needed and uttered, has actually been the trigger to degenerate the situation beyond what the password/key phrase was supposed to prevent!

However, The Tank is about ideas, solutions, wild suggestions, imagination, fantasy and WildIdeas_Mainimgthat itch that won’t go away, which a lot of the time you wouldn’t say allowed because of its absurdity – but, in The Tank they get time to rest, to grow, to mix with other ideas… of course a lot of things just drown in The Tank – but, sometimes, actually more often than you would image, that piece of gold, that synergy of ideas and thought, that win-win solution, gently (or sometimes popping like a submarine rescue buoy) rise to the surface.

I suppose it is the ‘business brainstorming model for couples’ where the end result is not free cakes, coffee and a 45 minute session of the Boss telling you what is going to happen, but about making your individual life, your relationship, not only more peaceful, but more productive and occasionally mind bogglingly creative.

Sometimes being a better man is in accepting that the questions you are asking yourself all the time, privately, in your head may find a place to live in The Tank – you just have to be prepared to dive in.

 

Better at Chick Flicks

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I am a bit of a movie buff and have a rather man tendency to watch war movies, science fiction and anything that doesn’t involve a teenage love story, or for that matter any sort of love story – period movies set in old manors are also right out – animated moviesScreen Shot 2017-07-18 at 9.00.26 AM are banned (I confess never having watched Frozen!).

My wonderful wife also loves movies, but, these mainly consist of the ‘chick flick’ genre – please kill me!

Just recently we have got Netflix.

In the furtherance of a happy marriage we have agreed that on some occasions we will have ‘the wife’s choice’ as the evening – or as we are retired, sometimes the afternoon movie.

On wife’s choice day I usually sit down with an internal moan (often not so internal) and fortify myself with some sort of alcoholic beverage to dull the pain of the impending love triangle, family tragedy or young love coming to maturity….

I might have got a few recent surprises….

NOTE:  I am NOT now nor will I ever be a chick flick devotee but sometimes…. just sometimes….

The other day we watched a movie called ‘Radio’ – yeah, I know, never heard of it.  To cut a nice story short it is almost not a chick flick as it is about sport and the adoption of a young local man by the team – bloody hell, I got a bit teary in the first 10 minutes and knew this was going to be a test of sarcasm – e.g. ‘that’s not very realistic’ ‘ people don’t really behave like that’ etc etc

However, those blurts of disgust never came as this story, this chick flick was actually a true story and constantly demonstrated being nice always beats not being nice – yeah it was a totally unrealistic chick flick with a happy ending – BUT, it was a true story and at the end (just to tear the final remnants of your heart our through your chest) they introduce you to the real people the movie was about….

Screen Shot 2017-07-18 at 9.01.04 AMWill I sit down and watch a chick flick versus something involving automatic weapons or laser canons…. unlikely.  But, just sometimes I may think that a movie about the human spirit can be watched without drinking spirits, change me just a little, for the better, and perhaps make me realise that there are a lot of better men, good men, out there that makes my continued quest to be a better man worth every teary tissue moment sitting next to my wonderful wife.

PS:  Okay I followed up ‘Radio’ with ‘Lion’ – but that’s another story about the terrible waste of using an entire box of tissues in an hour!

Better at Father’s Day

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I thought I should write something for Father’s Day.

Firstly, what is Father’s Day – is it a day we celebrate being fathers or a day we are celebrated as being fathers.  What is the difference.  I think it is the difference between wanting to be recognised as being a father and being grateful for being a father.

I think I am the latter.Screen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.31.26

I don’t know if it is because I am getting older (and hopefully wiser) that I spend a lot more time being grateful for what I have as opposed to lamenting and complaining about what I don’t have.

I have 5 children; three of my own and 2 step children.  I reckon I’m lucky.  Of course there are days when I am plotting their deaths and I am sure there are days when they are actually in the process of having me assassinated; but, over all it is a privilege to have children (assassination and death plots aside!).  Not only is it a privilege to have children, it is a privilege to have children and live in Australia, where they have a pretty reasonable chance of growing up happy – where in a lot of other places in the world the chances of them even growing up are pretty slim.

I suppose as a father my main responsibility is to provide a sense of hope that although the world may at times be a pretty nasty and unfair place, there is a good chance of finding happiness.

I also think that the saying that we are not as smart as our children until they are at least 25 is as equally valid as realising that they are just doing what we did when we were young but we don’t recognise it, well basically ever, and when we do, we try to stop them.  I keep asking myself the question, Why?  And, I actually can’t think of a valid reason.  Yes, we may do this when they are younger to stop them putting a knife in the powerpoint or walking in front of traffic, but, do we have a right, or even a misplaced sense of responsibility in doing this when they are teenager, young adults, or even the 20+ adults that just wont leave home!

IScreen Shot 2015-09-06 at 12.34.06f you would have asked me this question a few years ago, or perhaps even a few months ago, I would have raved on about discipline, parental responsibility, experience, etc etc….  well, basically all the stuff my parents said to me.  But, today, not just because it’s father’s day, but today, after doing a reasonable job of being the benevolent family dictator, without the benevolence, I have realised that my responsibility as a father is not just discipline, home defence, no one sitting in my favourite chair, sitting at the head of the table and mowing the law.
My job is safety.

Not the home defence safety, not the child proof lock of the medicine cabinet safety, not the boyfriend/girlfriend assessment safety, not the ‘your grounded’ safety….  but the safety that involves being someone your children can trust.

It involves different safety codes that don’t involve a hi-Viz vest and an iron fist.

  • The safety to tell the truth
  • The safety to ask questions
  • The safety to express as opinion
  • The safety to make mistakes
  • The safety to always call home home
  • The safety of a hug
  • The safety of unconditional love
  • The safety of asking advice and ignoring it
  • The safety of leading their life their way
  • The safety of knowing Mum and Dad, Step Mum and Step Dad, will be proud of me for being me
  • The safety of forgiveness

I have decided that Father’s Day is not about being worshiped with a coffee cup saying “Worlds Greatest Dad”, but a day for me, the father, to be grateful that with all my faults, I still get to feel that pang in my chest when I think of my children, and despite everything past and all things future, I know that being a Father is a privilege that provides no greater love in your life.

Better Two Funerals and a Letter

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I recently went to two funerals – two days in a row!2009-06-09 Me Jo Short Hol 066

I had only heard about each funeral in the morning and changed my day to go to each.  I cancelled my appointments and rescheduled – well, everything I had to do – all the necessary parts of life, that can’t wait, on these days, just had to wait…

Both were Mums. One left this world after a long life and one left this world with a long life
unspent.

The mourners were the family and close friends.  The absent, were the acquaintances, the work colleagues and all the other people that we run around filling our lives with.
I was not there as a part of the families – I was not there as a life long close friend – I was not there for the Mums who we were mourning – I was there for the living.

I was there because the living need the living, to keep them living, when they mourn the dead.  It made me sad.

But, I was prouder than I was sadder.  I was there if needed.  Mostly I was there.

I drove home and watched the world of Mums, and Dads, and friends, and work colleagues, and acquaintances, all still running around filling their lives, because they were the living – it is a world of the living.

This is not the first time I have noticed that the living don’t notice that they are living.  They mourn the dead and then go to the shops.

As we get older there are less of us living who we know: fewer who were with us from the start; until eventually we may be lucky, or unlucky enough to be the last one that you really know – we are there sitting in our chair, watching ‘Days of Our Lives’, pissing our pants and waiting for our relatives to visit who never seem to come – at what stage do we become irrelevant as part of the living but not quiet yet one of the dead.  Does our funeral signify a relief to the living, and perhaps to ourselves – or is it just another occasion for the living to be too busy to attend.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one.

At one of the funerals the poem “The Dash’ by Linda Ellis was read : which in part says:

….. he noted that first came the date of birth

and spoke the following date with tears,

but he said what mattered most of all

was the dash between the years…..

Screen Shot 2015-08-13 at 17.12.14So even in death, it really is the living that matter.  It probably goes as far to say that it doesn’t really matter how you die, but how you live.  Yeah, it is tragic and sad when someone goes before their time, but when you go, surely that is your time.  It always surprises me, when we are surprised at death, as really, and literally, it is inevitable for all of us – it is just the timing and the length and quality of the dash that are different.

Not going to funerals is however a different thing to not going to just about anything else.  We can visit lots and lots after the first date, and be involved lots of times during the ‘dash’.  But after the second date, the celebration of the second date, that date has nothing after it for the person who’s name is above those dates and the dash.  I suppose it may well not matter because they will never know – only we, the living will.

Two funerals are not necessarily better than one – but one funeral is inevitable for us all, we must attend ; no one else is on the compulsory list, no one else who is a part of the living are required.

Perhaps I go to funerals because it tells me a lot about the living – it tells me that my ‘dash’ is still there and there is yet one date to be written – and as with all, the length of the dash in undetermined, although always inevitable; but, most of all the quality of the dash can be changed in an instant – good or bad.

So, I will attend funerals to celebrate the insertion of the second date for someone else, and the continuation of my ‘dash’.  I may very well shed a tear for the Mum of my friend and the wife of my friend and the friend of my friend.  I may shed that tear for the dead and the living.

I read the ‘memorial card’ – the last letter written for the dead by the living.  The photo and verse that they choose to leave this world with.  That last memento of their ‘dash’ you get to hold in your hand.  And, then they are gone.  They live nowhere else other than in our thoughts – and perhaps more importantly in our deeds – deeds done in their name: deeds such as kindness, charity, fairness, forgiveness and love.  Deeds that start with “what would Mum/Dad/Wife/Husband/Child/Friend do, what would they be proud of me for….”

DSCN2413So, the second date is inserted for another, and the funeral has been, their final letter written and I am on my way to the shops.  I do the stuff that the living do.

I go home where I live my ‘dash’ and collect my mail on the way to the door.

There’s a letter.  Not junk mail, not bills, not a hastily written card for my birthday, not a personalised “To The Householder” envelope, but…. a letter.

It was from my friend, who is part of the living.

I had two funerals and a letter.  They were two long days that now they are over, seem too short.

I read my funeral cards and read my letter – two from the dead and one from the living.  All moments of time I can hold in my hand.

I’ll keep rescheduling and leave the living for a morning or an afternoon to go to farewell the dead.  It is the last date after the dash; it is their last letter that we get to hold.

I’ll also keep writing letters to the living; then when my second date is inserted they can keep that moment to remember our dash.

 

 

 

Better in the Glory Years

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Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.57.13What is it with old people wanting to either rule the world or tell me about their latest operation.

As I have said before, the ailments of the elderly are often serious but rarely interesting.

Just learn to love your life… now.

What are the glory years.

I think they are between 25 and 45.  That seems like a very short window of opportunity, but it is in that period between I don’t know shit and I don’t give a shit

As an ‘older’ person (50+) surely we have contributed through the hard years, with long hours, innovation, promotions, the hard slog and trying to make a difference in a world where everybody is trying to do the same.  The next generation is coming!  …. and they are coming in their own way.Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.44.18

Just the other day I was sitting at a committee meeting with the same people I have been sitting on that committee with for the last 25 years!  When we all joined the committee we were appalled by the ‘old bastards’ who were doing the job then and slowly pushed them
from the committee so that we could drag it into something worthwhile for our generation. We were young, smarter than them, more motivated than them, and in all honesty got
things done!  I pointed out to the committee members the other day that we are all now ten years older than the ‘old bastards’ were when we pushed them out.  I also reminded them that when they speak to the young people this committee allegedly ‘serves’ – after we have passed on our little gem of knowledge and walked away thinking we have imparted some real wisdom, don’t listen too closely as you will hear “Silly old bastard”
being said.

I just think that the things we do in our life (as with friends) are for reasons and seasons and occasionally, very occasionally for that entire life.Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.37.25

It is similar in that there are jobs (the people you meet as friends on holidays), vocations (the people who love what you do and they love doing it with you) and true passions (the childhood friend who you still hang out with and couldn’t imagine them not being in your life).

It is realising which one you are doing that is important.  I am sure lots of us wake up and realise that we have suddenly found out that the friends we met on holidays are in our life all the time and we are not on holidays anymore and it is just not the same and secretly we wish they would just go away (why did I give them our address!?)

It is the same with the ‘glory years’.  We hang onto them and then suddenly realise (or actually most people don’t realise) that they are over and now you are just the old guy on the committee who talks shit and wont retire!

I was in the pub the other day (a serious part of my post 50 vocation) when I saw a guy who I used to work with and barely recognised him.  No, it wasn’t because he looked old and wanted to tell me about a rash that wouldn’t go away – it was because he looked so good, younger, fitter, healthier, happier.  Why?  He was 9 days (he also told me the hours) until he officially retired from a ‘vocation’ he had been doing for 40 years.  He said it was time to retire and he was moving onto the next part of his life.  He didn’t bitch about his working life but said how great it was and how much he had loved it, but now was the time to go, it wasn’t his world anymore – by the way he was 55!

I know how he feels and am on the cusp of retiring myself.  I am not going away bitter, I am just going away.  Not going out in a blaze of glory, or hanging on as a sad, bitter, pathetic dinosaur – but, slowly stepping out the door, shaking the hands of the ‘friends’ I will never see again, remembering the good times, allowing the bad times to fade and leaving it all in the hands of those like me back them, living the glory years.

Screen Shot 2015-07-07 at 11.40.05POST SCRIPT
I am not dead, just different!  The ending of the glory years are the beginning of something more special.  Spending time with yourself, being in the world and not pushed along buy it.  I am also here if you need me, I have the time to help and the time to talk – not the time to child care and baby sit by the way!  I managed that myself so can you.  It is the time for turning learning into wisdom, if for no one else other than myself.  It is time for noticing the world.  It is a time for peacefulness, spiritualness (that can be anything you want), laughter and remembering.  It is a a time for phone calls to friends or people who you would like to be your friends (not people you met on holidays – or maybe now it is the time for them?).  It is time for phone calls, visits and letters to those who need them.  It is time for thankfulness and forgiveness.

It is the post ‘glory years’ where the real rewards actually are, you just a have to look and stop telling people about your next Doctors appointment!

Better off Oblivious

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I have just emerged from a period of getting stuff done, making lists and ticking stuff off, keeping and making appointments, lunching and ringing.  I am in the zone, I am getting shit done and I am making headway.  I read the news and have an opinion, I care about the world, the people, the weather (which incidentally in the last 12 months I have come to realise climate change may actually be real – no, it is real – and it is possibly our fault…), I post shit and comment on shit……. and……

I am oblivious.

I am oblivious to the fact that it is a miracle that I was actually born and I am hear.
I am oblivious to the luck my birth gave me (good parents, Australia etc etc)
I am oblivious to the billions of miracles occuring around me each moment:
– the sparrows amongst the cafe tables
– the smile of a stranger
– the glory of books (I buy but never find time to read)
– the joy of having friends I can call, or not
– the sun on my face

I hate not watching the news and knowing what’s going on – I hate it more doing it and knowing it.  I am aware of the tragedies of the world and oblivious to their real suffering.  I watch the news and concentrate on the advertisements.  I am driven by the news and consuming and oblivious to the neighbours in my street.

I am happy, but oblivious to the sun on my face.

Tomorrow: it is Easter, and I am not going to watch the news; I am not going to live the day oblivious, on auto pilot and 30 second commercial grabs:

Tomorrow…..

I am going to notice…..

 

 

Better the News and Kids on Bikes

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I have spent most of the afternoon trawling through the latest news reports and it just makes me sad.  So much hate and death and hate.

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We are sitting in our caravan at the Port Vincent Foreshore Caravan Park where I have come for holidays with my kids for the last 12 years. This year was what I hope is the beginning of the resurgence (after the teenage years of, I hate you, I hate this, I hate that – plus I know everything!) with the kids coming back with their respective boyfriends. Plus we had the most wonderful friends also come and hang out.

I am reading the news, and not knowing if I am angry or just sad…..  and a little kid rides past our caravan on their overly pink bike, oversized helmet, and I hear one yell out to another “I can’t remember your name, but this is fun anyway!”

pink_kids_bike_helmet_and_bike Our friends have gone home and some kids have gone home but one is still camping with her boyfriend and texting me stories of their fishing and camping. I just texted her and said it was like old times and she replied “It was like old times and we loved it!!!”

I read the news while I listen to the squeals of joy of the kids riding by on their bikes – plus the ‘family world series of cricket’ on the road out the front. I smile thinking about my daughter in the tent, in the wind, in the rain cooking the squid they caught after learning how to clean it on YouTube!

The world is mental and full of hate and pain; but it is also wonderful.

I now know why my wife writes her blog www.beatcancerwithjoy.com, but some days it is hard to find…  and some days it is just out the front of your caravan….

Better in The Whole World

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YOUR WORLD

 

“Take any opportunity to live overseas or at least interstate.  This is not going on a holiday but living there.  Learn to be independent: enjoy your own company: miss home (and cherish it every time you return – hug your Mum). Experience another culture: eat their food; speak their language.  Make friends with the world, the people in it, but mainly with yourself.  Love the diversity of the world and appreciate it vastness; don’t feel small, feel a part of it.”

I wrote the above as ‘advice to my past self” hoping that it would be advice to my kids – this is the first time they may actually read it, except that they are not yet old enough to bother caring about what we parents actually do in our lives.

This piece of advice to me is because now, as I am older, I realised that the world is just out there waiting; but, being older the hills are steeper, the treks longer, the plane flights torture, my medication constantly gets me strip searched at airports and I don’t look so good in a swim suit anymore.  Yeah, I do now have the money and time to do it, but one commodity is finite and the other doesn’t matter – I just hope I spend both to the max!

I think there are seasons for travelling in your life – one season is over for me but another is about to start.

Another short post as the above really already says what I want to say.

My world, your world, our world – is being a better man, just the process of realising this.