My December Daybook

FOR TODAY
Outside my window...is the bright sunshine of a summer's day with birds chirping and the humming of insects as well as cars travelling along the highway.

I am thinking...how lucky our family is this year to celebrate Christmas together, esp. such happy and healthy kids.

I am thankful...for a clean start in life; we've moved 1200kms down south, near a city, near to my side of the family and so far (1 week later) I feel we're embracing the new lifestyle and forging relationships long lost with distance.

In the kitchen...we've cleaned up from a lunch of Christmas leftovers.

I am wearing...the new and old: blue denim shorts and blue cut-away top. My sister said "did you sleep in those clothes?" ... so I guess I wore these yesterday after all the festivities :)) Ha ha.

I am creating...a new life for my immediate family.

I am going...nowhere in the near future. Content to live amongst our boxes in my childhood home with my parents and all that comes with it.

I am wondering...I am trying not to wonder; I am trying to live and experience each day at a time. There is much to learn through experience and reflection.

I am reading..."Golden Earrings" by Belinda Alexandra.

A present for myself to keep my mind ticking over in someone's world.

Around the house...my near-80 year old Father is dozing (not-so-quietly) in the armchair beside me; my busy-bee Mother is working away at her computer at the table; my angelic Husband sits beside me on the couch, flicking through the newspaper; my two 8 year old girls are playing happily in the back bedroom (only coming out for food); and the Boxing Day Test Cricket, between Australia and India, is playing out quietly on the television.

One of my favourite things...is finding harmony.

Although we're gradually understanding how to live together (two families with strong female leadership) ... there still remain periods of hurt feelings, misunderstandings and awkward situations.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...

from my favourite author and source of inspiration.

One dream, many pathways

Ten years ago I was living and working in a remote town, called Nyamongo, in Tanzania, East Africa. My career path at that time was in gold exploration. I was managing the gold mining operations for a small Australian company, Afrika Mashariki Gold Mines, with roughly twenty Australian and fifty local staff. When the Exploration Manager returned to live in Australia, I was left to manage with very little assistance. I coped. I worked from five in the morning till eleven at night. Sometimes I would forget to eat. But I kept the camps running, I attended to the needs of the staff, I played the game of politics (for awhile) and after six months I wore myself out. When I returned to Australia due to poor health, I didn't know where my life was going. Why hadn't I succeeded? I was organised. I had worked hard. I thought I was capable of doing the job, so why did my path end there and then?

The most memorable part of my time in Africa was the people. I had learned enough Swahili to understand someone coming into my office to ask for something, which pleased my friend Baru who acted as my interpreter, and I could give basic instructions to the local staff. I had earned the respect of many elder statesmen in the town and had many young followers joining me every afternoon on my jog around the village. I had experienced the lows of asking a local family for their consent to take their son off life support in a Nairobi hospital, to the highs of supervising the building of two teacher houses as well as arranging and funding the successful treatment of cancer for one of our office staff members. There was even the crazy all night experience of taking water samples every hour from the swollen Mara River whilst my local assistant, Peter, shone the torch across the top of the water looking for the eyes of potential man-eating crocodiles and our protection (a couple of national armed guards) snoozed in the front seats of our car, cuddling their automatic rifles.

One experience would stay with me through the dark times of living back in the 'lucky country' with nobody to assist, nobody to care for and no path to follow. It happened one day when I visited a local medical clinic with one of our local staff members so he could renew his prescription of pills to cure his tuberculosis. Yes, the very disease that killed my Father. Anyway, I waited outside the clinic and passed the time by sitting on a branch scratching pictures in the red dirt with a twig. A couple of young kids, probably under 5 years old, were watching me nearby. Although I was a 'mzungu' they didn't seem afraid. So, I kept scratching in the dirt and occasionally made eye contact with them. Eventually we were smiling at eachother. Their curosity got the better of them and they came over to see what I was doing. I guess they asked me what I was drawing, because we ended up drawing pictures for eachother and using the English and Swahili words for them. It was so fun! I was learning and so were they ... This experience would eventually influence my decision to follow a new path. Teaching.

So, here I am, ten years into my journey along a chosen pathway to becoming a teacher and I have not officially arrived at my destination yet. What happened? The path seemed clear, the stars had aligned and I knew in my heart this was my future ...

Well, it isn't like I haven't been busy! In fact, raising, educating and learning from my twin daughters has almost been a full-time job. We've experimented with arts and crafts, reading, mathematics, science, French, gymnastics, soccer, dancing, martial arts and the appreciation of a variety of music. During this time I have also found time to study, work successfully to prove to myself that I could explore for iron-ore as well as help out in the girls's school classrooms and keep our family emotionally connected.

For the last two years I have been privileged to work with primary school children as an Education Assistant. I started out working one day a week in a Pre-Primary classroom and volunteering another day in a Kindergarten classroom. I learned so much from the teachers and students about the early childhood curriculum, the emotional needs of children, how to motivate children, the value of patience, positivity, humour and caring as well as the organisation, safety and management of the classroom and playground. This past year, however, I have moved more into a teaching role as well as maintaining my assistant work with students from Year 1 to 7. Thus, I have developed the knack of relating to students of all ages, motivating and supporting these students as well as assisting them academically. The most rewarding part of my job has been to implement a reading tutoring program to significantly improve the literacy skills of struggling students. In the trial program, I tutored six students and, on average, their reading comprehension improved by one and a half years. These results combined with their improved confidence, self-belief and positivity inspired me to ask the Principal to continue the program. The next eighteen weeks of the program ended literally hours ago. Twelve more students were tutored and the results have blown me away! So, the experience of being part of changing the lives of twenty students through improving their reading as well as their confidence, self-belief, anger management and attitude to meeting new challenges has put the fire back in my belly; now I can't control my passion and enthusiasm for teaching.

Tonight, as I sit here writing, I realise that although my path has sometimes been obscured by undergrowth or overgrown by vines, I am still following my dream to teach. And my job may have concluded today, but another is waiting for me ...

The Precipice

I am standing on the precipice ... I have been here before, but never in the day time. It looks so unfamiliar, but I am well acquainted with the pathway that leads here, so I know it is the same place.

Today it is a bright and sunny place with a magnificent view of lusciously green, grassy knolls leading towards a horizon where pure blue skies rise above. I feel uneasy though, despite the perfect setting … I know I must scramble down the rocky slope to feel the softness of the grass beneath my feet and to
smell the fresh scents of the array of meadow flowers I see before me. But I am hesitant. For three days I have looked longingly at this view; I have felt it call to me through gentle, warm breezes and heard my heart’s desire to step off this vantage point. But, still, I maintain my position with leaden feet and a stubbornness to hold onto my fear.

The last time I was standing here there was nothing but blackness for my eyes to see. The upward winds were frighteningly ferocious and howled about me like hungry wolves circling their prey. I daren't go even one step further; it seemed certain that to do so would be a choice to die. Despite my fear, I stood with courage to withstand the wind buffeting my body, the wild flapping of my long gown and the stinging of it as it lashed my bare legs. The howling noises continued and eventually I no longer felt vulnerable, but smiled almost menacingly toward the black sky with the knowledge of life's fragility. A desire to shout "Is that all you've got for me?" to the unknown spirit above me sat roughly in my throat, but in truth I didn't want to face any more challenges. Just one more step ... one more and there would be an end to my fears, my confusion, helplessness and disappointments. But, in my heart, I knew my only choice was to retreat back, barefooted along the rocky path, through the dark tunnel from whence I had come. There was no other choice. I needed to return to the place where my loved ones awaited me.

On that occasion, there had been no 'light at the end of the tunnel'. Yet, today, I am blessed with a spectacular view of greener pastures out yonder. Why? And why this time after so many experiences of complete darkness and desolation? Could it be that a kind friend led me here? Could her recent visit with open conversation and complete honesty about my need to take a journey be the reason I am offered this view? If so, then I am utterly indebted to her.

Why, then, can I not bring myself to move? It doesn't seem to difficult to find a way down. Could it be that my courage is no match for my fear? This place, these feelings are all so familiar AND I know how to get back. What if I can't go back? Will my family and friends be there to meet me in the new world? I think this is my lesson: it is time to move on. I have dwelt too much on the past; I have looked for answers to my past for so long that I have forgotten to embrace the future with all of its unknowns.

Four weeks ago, I experienced my worst nightmare -- the possibility that I might leave this world and leave my two young girls without their mother. I know what it feels like to have lost a parent! I know the feeling of never knowing who they were, what they liked to do, to read or to talk about ... or how they felt about anything! It is a big unknown, which haunts your happiness, your sense of belonging, your understanding of yourself and it can turn up when you least expect. Despite the years of research into my Father's family and asking millions of questions about his life, I am no closer to knowing his personality nor what characteristics I carry of his. Perhaps I will never know, but to admit defeat means I give up hope and I am unwilling to do either. So, I have been rooted to this spot for some days now afraid to acknowledge the depth of my fear. Yet, it is time now to accept the situation because not only have I carried the burden of this fear, but one of my children too as she has physical signs of stress and anxiety. It is a wake-up call we all needed. I hope we can start to deal with what has happened and heal our emotional scars.

My kind friend said to me that my physical scar would act as a reminder of the journey I needed to take for myself and my family. She is right. Our family needs to consider our short term happiness. We need to embrace the opportunities that come our way to feel joy, the aliveness of spirit, spontaneity and answer our desire to explore the world before us ... A fellow high schooler once suggested I buy a hat with my first wage since childbirth, instead of putting it away on my mortgage. A hat! Such frivolity! But, she was right. I still have a mortgage, but my hat collection remains poor. Life is for living now; one shouldn't always be cautious and careful because you can't choose when it all ends.

As I see the endless array of flowers stretched out before me, so too do I see life's possibilities. Bless you all. May you make your own courage bigger than your fear to step off your precipice of life. I just have ...

What fabric are you creating?

As I sit now, looking out my window at the yellow glow of the disappearing sunset, thoughts of how I came to be here float through my mind.

Our paths in this life are not pre-determined ... we have made choices in the past and we have choices ahead of us. All of our choices are woven together to form a fabric of life. What colours will dominate? What patterns will emerge? What can we learn from looking back at our creations?

Today I am presented with a new creation of life. I am joyous. I am pleased for the happy couple as their lives have suddenly been enriched with deep, overwhelming love and there are colourful times ahead. Yet, this colourful event is connected to me; connected to a time some 18 years earlier. As I look back I see painful colours emerge, and a pain that continued for many years after. The pain, however, does not reach into my present life. Why? If I remember correctly, I actively found strength to acknowledge my guilt and sorrow, then I let go and sowed seeds of love and forgiveness.

I am now filled with positivity; perhaps I have discovered a way to live and create a fabric of comfort and warmth despite having to weave together both agreeable and disagreeable material. So why do some of my closest connections continue to create haphazard and ill-shapen designs for themselves? I do not believe, as they do, that somehow I have received more favourable supplies. Instead, by continuously racing ahead without occasionally reviewing their creations, perhaps they cannot hope to see painful patterns emerging or cease to carry burdens into the future.

There is no sense of superiority here, for which I am commonly accused. My hope is for others to look at themselves as closely as I do so that they can feel joy, hope and positivity for their futures.

Today has been a reminder of another time. But it has also been an awakening ... a recognition that by actively seeking to acknowledge the past, the future can indeed be brighter. Mistakes may be made, but we have the capacity to learn from them.


Do you like your current creation?

Can you actively seek to drop a few colours and replace them with uplifting ones?

Or are some of us destined to create disastrous designs?

Marlee's story

On the day Marlee Aburo was born, both her parents John and Mary, knew there was something different about their daughter. Her impatience to enter the world caught them both by surprise, such that John Aburo had not the time to get his sister-in-law from the hut on the other side of the escarpment. Instead, Marlee arrived quickly from her mother’s womb falling literally into her father’s outstretched hands. The eldest son was soon sent scurrying out of the family hut by his shocked father to fetch his Aunty, “Mwana, kukimbia na kupata Aunty yako. Haraka! Haraka!”

The birth had been relatively quick, which left Mary Aburo the ability to direct her husband and eldest daughter to find a blanket to wrap the screaming Marlee. The evening sun had yet to set over the horizon, so there was enough light for the rest of the family to prepare a fire. A bucket of water, which had been carried on the head of one of the children earlier from the nearest waterhole a kilometre away, was used to fill a pot ready for heating.

...

John Aburo stood outside his family hut; he stared into the distance with many thoughts passing through his head. What luck would this child bring the family? She was strong, but it remained a fact that he now had four daughters instead of three sons. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the shouts of his sister-in-law, Ghati, waddling eagerly over the ridge. Wanting to avoid questions and the woman’s need to tell him what to do, John moved down the hill in the direction of the Mara River. He would wash the blood from his body and leave the women to it. He wondered what he would see in the stars later, but somehow he knew he wouldn't need to search too hard to find a name for his binti.

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A beautiful heart

A young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it.

But an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said,

“Your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine.”

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man’s heart. It was beating strongly but full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in … but they didn’t fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. The young man looked at the old man’s heart and laughed.

“You must be joking,” he said. “Compare your heart with mine … mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears.”

“Yes,” said the old man, “Yours is perfect looking … but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love….. I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them … and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart but because the pieces aren’t exact, I have some rough edges.

“Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away … and the other person hasn’t returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges … giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too … and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?”

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man.

The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man’s heart.

It fit …. but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man’s heart flowed into his.

Paulo Coehlo

A friend of the night

I haven't slept well of late.

It's been two weeks now.

My friend, Insomnia, is back and I am not sure when she will leave.

She is a friend who requires no invitation; she enters your night-time world and keeps you company until your eyelids can no longer hold themselves open. Sleep comes only for a few hours before the early morning light brings with it your need to attend to the daily routine.

If you've never had her arrive on your doorstep, then you may become agitated and try to shut her out. But it is of no use, she is quite determined to keep you company. In fact, she knows you need her company.

If you're used to her unexpected visits, then you'll find yourself welcoming her in and immediately finding out why she has come. The sooner you figure this out, the sooner she will leave. And the sooner your inner peace will return.

This time she is here to sort out my worries. I do not let my conscious worry, so it is left to my sub-conscious to deal with them and that is why Insomnia is here. She is helping my sub-conscious make to-do lists. When the day ends they stay up late to tick off the completed tasks and highlight outstanding ones, as well as examining how to restore the balance.

Today has been a good day though.

Today the to-do list has decreased in size. And my sub-conscious has allocated a time for when the oustanding tasks can be completed.

Yes, today has been a good day.

Will I see Insomnia tonight? I do not know. I do not worry. She will come if there are more things to be organised. She is a friend. A friend of the night. And I am sure to see her again.

Wordless Wednesday

Learning about love

To have love in your life is truly precious.

I have learned some things about love. Perhaps the hardest has been to love others openly and without prejudice, which required me to open my heart and mind as well as to let go of my fear and judgement.

I must admit, I am a bit of a romantic! (This is quite ironic coming from a girl who spent half her life a tom-boy and then the other half trying to figure how to be comfortable in a skirt!) Thus I enjoy a good love story. One can follow the journey of two people as they discover ways to connect with each other without losing their sense of direction ... yes, it's complicated! It can be a fast tempo like a quick lustful heartbeat, or a slow tempo like that of a deep spiritual connection.

I am lucky to have love in my life.

I have parents who love me, although perhaps they don't always understand my complications! Ha ha. I have a couple of wonderful children who love me, and who are now old enough to understand that love is not dependent upon mood, situation or behaviour, but is unconditional. And I have the love of a good man. A man who has the ability to love me despite my complications -- i.e. my mood swings, my dreams, my insecurities, my search for answers to life-long questions, and my desire to love others when they are in need as well as for my need to.

"I may not be everything you thought I was, but if you love me then you need to love all the things about me."

Along my journey in this life, I have had strong and loving connections with a few people ... but I was unable to trust myself to let go and be theirs to love. I could not love everything about myself for a long time and I unknowingly hurt people because of it. There will be regrets, but these connections also taught me valuable things about myself and my capacity to trust, to forgive and to be myself.

One of the best aspects of my life right now is children, my own and others. They are so easy to love. Perhaps it is because most of them have the capacity to receive love without complicating it too much. They don't seem to question why your spending time with them, nurturing them, teaching them, learning from them, listening to them or laughing with them. They just like that you're around to give them attention, a voice, empathy, security and a hard time! I have learned that they know when you're open with them, and when you're not. There is no way I would have been good at my job 10 years ago -- I hadn't learned how to be open with myself never mind anybody else. Today, however, it is a joy to do what I do.

It would be untruthful to say that love is joyous at all times! Ha! Our hearts are not always pure and open and our minds are not always free from jealous, angry or hurtful thoughts, so we still continue to learn how to love each and every day.

I believe each of us needs love in our lives for different reasons. I think I need love that allows me to follow my dreams, my own path ... as I am easily side-tracked and like to meander along many different paths because I love a good adventure!

It seems to me that the more we learn about love, the more we learn about ourselves -- our true self.

In honour of those who've given me their love and to whom I have shared mine. Thank you ❤❤❤

Bringing in the New Year

The beginning of a new year always brings joy to my heart, and thus hope for the days, weeks and months ahead.

I am not usually one to make resolutions (such as not eating until an ideal weight is achieved) ... however, I do make use of my new found optimism to reflect upon the year that has been and be brave enough to write down new (or renewed) goals for the year to come.

I've started to address my list already. Yay! Although I am not sure whether my original list actually contained the task to sort through, file or discard piles and piles of stuff taking over the desk and floor of my study. It was quickly added upon my return home from our Christmas holiday though. Hah. Today I have managed to go through most of it: putting away the girls' Year 1 work, certificates and reports; filing away numerous papers into storage boxes allocated for study, work and school; and organising new storage places for homework and stationery. It has been a mammoth task -- believe me!

The advantage of taking on such a mindless task as sorting, filing and discarding though, is that it provides an opportunity for my mind to sort itself out. I mean, why only do one thing at a time right? So, whilst tidying the study I was also able to work on the problem facing me this year -- organising my time. What's to organise? Well, I need to find a way to complete the twelve remaining units of my Certificate III in Education Support as well as working three days a week at the school in Pre-Primary (love it!), making endless decisions for and worrying about the building of our new house some 1200kms away, and managing the children's homework and sporting activites, house chores, finances and anything else that wants to drop in unexpectedly! And, if I dare to ask any more of myself, I want to do it all in reasonably composed state of mind. Should I laugh or cry?

Deep breathing perhaps ... in, out, in, out ... *sigh*

I keep telling myself it will work out as long as I don't think too much about it! Ha ha.

Funnily enough though, today I was reminded of my new idea for a book to write. The ideas flooded my mind during the1200km drive home on Sunday, when I obviously had too much time to think and dream. I was reminded today because I began reading a novel (whilst half-submerged in the swimming pool in 42 degree heat) called "A Waltz for Matilda" by Jackie French, which I discovered at the library yesterday. Amazingly enough the book is set in the same time period as I was pondering -- around the turn of the 19th Century. Anyway, it just seems so ridiculous to even consider having the time to write this at the moment, never mind this year! One day, I keep promising myself, one day.

I heartened, however, by the words of the story I finished last night ... "The Alchemist" by Paulo Coelho. It is a story about a boy who dares to live his dreams (by listening to his heart) to find his Personal Legend. According to the author "a personal legend is the path we decide to take that fills our heart with enthusiasm. It is the path of our dreams." The story provides hope to us all as the boy faces many obstacles on his journey, all of which seem to teach him things he needs to know for the next part of the journey. Hence, I embrace the idea that there will be an opportunity to discover the author within ... and also acknowledge that this opportunity lies very much in my own hands.

A Happy New Year to you all.