...pensées...

Argh, so this blog was a casualty of some unforeseeable IT dramas over the last couple of days. My hosting company decided that my account would be much more comfortable on a new server and so without any warning, switched me over. Murphy's law dictates that although the Internet should be fast and reliable and instant, a domain name such as mine (clafhn.com) is incapable of switching immediately. Even the usual 4-24 hour DNS propogation time would have been nice. But no... I was posting blogs on the old server, Facebook was reading the old server, and in the meantime, the hosting company were working off a week-old backup. So when the Internet caught up with the changes...

IT - I hate to love it and love to hate it! Why is it that I dread social interaction because I know it will inevitably lead to enduring the tale of someone's current difficulties with their computer! I now know what doctors feel like at parties!

It sits there, mounted on white gold that encircles Ciwi's finger. A stone renowned for its hardness, rarity and value. Apart from looking flipping amazing, what's the big deal. Is it not just another piece of bling? So much of society, church and secular makes such a huge deal about this single piece of jewelry. While colour, clarity, cut and carat are not the be all and end all (although the media, jewelry stores and sometimes fiancées may suggest otherwise), the ring is not just a throwaway purchase. As with the decision, question and direction that it represents, the purchase requires extensive consideration. This is something you only ever plan to do once. If you're going to do it, you need to do it right. A ring speaks volumes and must be accompanied by the appropriate process

How to do it?

• Step One: get her to choose the ring! (Unglamorous, affects the surprise, but genetics dictate that I am not the expert in things that are shiny... God forbid she look down at her hand and think, "it's a nice gesture, but he has *horrible* taste!")
• Step Two: recover from spending so much money on something so small
• Step Three: the moment that the ring appears and slides onto her finger for the first time will stay with her for the rest of her life. *DON'T* screw it up!
• Step Four: marry her as quickly as possible! :)

That's about it really! The ring is a representation of how much you value the person you are asking to tie themselves to you. If you go about this lightly, what does that say about the value you place upon her? It says, "I want you to be mine and mine alone... I am serious about this and I'm not messing around. Whenever you look at your finger, you'll be reminded of the fact that you are loved, valued and cherished above all else (plus it's really pretty when it sparkles!)."

I haven't written a blog for well over a year...bad me... Anyway, this is one of those surveys that was circulating a few months ago that insisted that you send it to your mum's postman's dog; but I felt like writing a bit about myself, so here it is. If you're interested, read it, if not, save yourself a couple of minutes and go and do something more worthwhile right now!

Since I originally wrote this, some key details changed - notably that I gave Ciwi something sparkly for her finger. Heck yes!

So without further ado, 20 things about me...

1. I am viciously defensive about my church (Hillsong Church) when anyone criticises cos it's MY church! (Ciwi agrees with this one!)
2. Although most people know me as someone who fixes their computers, I actually chose modern languages at uni rather than computer science for the primary reason that I didn't want to spend the rest of my life fixing other people's computer crap! (Ironic that I do this both for my employment and for friends of friends of friends!)
3. I would fly halfway around the world to volunteer at Hillsong Conference if it came down to it.
4. I am engaged to a beautiful Norwegian girl called Siv Renathe, but everyone knows as Ciwi (she'll kill me for using her real name!) who is 6 years younger than me – I'm in no danger of having a midlife crisis in 15 years time and running off with a hot young girlfriend because I'll already have that!
5. Ciwi's birthday is the day after mine, which is the followed by Christmas Day.
6. We've been together for 13 months but only spent six of those months together – so over the long distance relationship thing, but I think we did it really well. (She is BACK IN AUSTRALIA now!)
7. It really frustrates me when other people are late, yet I'm late myself all the time. (Ciwi is nodding in agreeance with this statement!)
8. I absolutely love languages, even though I don't feel proficient in any other than English – I'm learning Dutch, write work emails in French, pick errors in German copy, layout books in Greek, understand a bit of spoken Spanish and play around with Norwegian.
9. I love grammar. I'm weird! Whenever I learn a language, I make a beeline for the grammar. I think it's something to do with the genetic mix of my dad's extreme scientific mind and my mum's love for literature. Our family dinner times leave guests bewildered – we argue at the top of our lungs about grammar. We all know the proper usage of an apostrophe and lament its misuse in common English writing today.
10. I live with great friends, David and Kellie and their beautiful one year old daughter Milla – she is seriously the best behaved (and cutest!) baby ever – I have never been woken up my her, not even once!
11. I love Jesus but I drink a little. If you're Norwegian and have a problem with that, I'm sorry... I like a nice Sauvignon Blanc (white wine for those unfamiliar with the French).
12. My family is truly international: there was a day not so long ago when I was in Sydney, my mum and brother were in Perth, my other brother was living in the UK, my sister was somewhere in Europe and my dad was in Malaysia. (Maybe I've got the specific countries wrong there, but I know we were 6 people in 5 different places!)
13. I am a High School Musical fan. I got hooked on it by a 5 year old and that was 18 months ago. In my opinion, there's an HSM song for every occasion, even more so now that we have the third movie.
14. I drive a little Ford Festiva – when I have two passengers and am driving uphill, I get overtaken by a bus!
15. I like being a geek and knowing stuff about stuff!
16. I learned new stuff about my mum when I read her response to this quiz!
17. I'm a Mac fan (thanks to my boss!) and carry my laptop and iPod around with me most of the time.
18. Marco Borsato – even if you have no interest in Holland or the Dutch language, listen to this guy's music – it is seriously amazing! It's just an added bonus that most of the Dutch I have learned has been through learning this dude's songs. Ik spreek geen Nederlands, alleen Marco Borsato! :)
19. Holland. I want to move there. Don't ask why – I don't get it either, but it's what I want to do. P.S. Dutch is a really fun language to learn – you ought to try it sometime!
20. I don't work for the church, but I spend my whole week (and I mean my WHOLE week!) working for Nick & Chris Caine at Equip & Empower, where everything we do is about building the local church globally, and more recently, we added the abolition of human trafficking to that list.

I'm sitting in the recording studio right now listening to my friend construct a soundtrack to a video I'm making. The video is simple - just a series of statistics and other titles, but they tell a story: they paint a picture. And now, more than ever, I appreciate the role of a film composer.

So often, we underestimate the ability that music has to lead us on a journey, to tell us a story, to communicate that which is beyond words and needs to be injected directly into the soul. Many people downplay this powerful role that music has, some try to strip it of its power and relegate it to the 'background'.

Enter the filmmaker - the person with a story to tell and 24 frames per second of widescreen technicolor canvas to do it. They can create a convincing set, sculpt emotion and mood by lighting, place memorable lines of dialogue on the lips of the actors, but without a musical score, the story is two dimensional. It is a series of lines, events and places strung together to create a narrative. But the music adds that third dimension: it brings movement and emotion to an otherwise flat picture.

Music is the ultimate storyteller because it sticks with you long after the more tangible aspects of the story (or film in this case) have left you. You may not be able to recall the overture or the predominant theme note by note, but you are left with the essence of the story. You will remember the celebration; you will remember the tragedy. You will remember the tension; you will remember the resolution. The skilled composer will use all the tools at his disposal - dominant melodies, crafted harmonies, blends of complementary rhythms and instruments - to take you on that journey, as he knows better than anyone else the lasting effect of a story told by music.

The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
-- William Wordsworth

People try to tell me to live a balanced life, but here are a couple of thoughts on balance. Firstly, most people regard balance as being mixture - getting a little bit of all extremes and finding some comfortable middle ground. Sorry - doesn't interest me. If that means watering down something that I might be passionate about, just so I can fit in the things I'm not so passionate about, I don't like that answer!

One illustration I've been given before (I think it might have come from Chesterton or someone) is that balance is not finding a neutral, safe seat of mediocrity but a reaching to embrace all extremes and hanging there in the midst of all the extremes. I like that idea - the fact that you CAN have it all, and that in doing so, you can be a balanced person.

Another idea I just had was that balance isn't really the goal. Picture a tightrope walker - they are walking along a tightrope, keeping their balance and trying to get to the other side. Note the purpose of this exercise - everyone is looking at him wondering how he is going to stay on the tightrope, but that's not what he's doing! He is going from A to B! The tightrope is just the means to get there, and it's tricky to stay on it. The moment you stop and start thinking about staying on the tightrope, you start to lose it. The key is to focus on the destination, the purpose of staying on the tightrope to begin with. The goal is not to make sure you're not too unevenly loaded, but that you keep moving towards the destination. And think about it: the more the tightrope walker is moving forward, the more the balance takes care of itself.

I want to live a balanced life, but that is not my goal. I don't want to compartmentalise and set aside this portion of life for work, and then set aside another chunk of 'me' time in the name of balance. The purpose of my life is not to have a nice, comfortable existence that doesn't stretch me too much. The purpose of my life deserves its own blog post, but can be summarised in this: it's not about me! Focusing too much on the balance amounts to focusing everything on me here and now. Sorry - again, not interested. I need to be moving forward at a fast enough pace towards my destination for the issue of balance to just take care of itself.

I'm sitting in an old church on a Saturday morning waiting for a wedding to start. What is it with the bride always being late? Why is that the accepted norm? To be fair, the bride did arrive on time - she's been waiting outside for some additional 'special people' to arrive. I would be hopping mad if that happened to me. Being late for someone is a mark of disrespect... Not that I'm immune to bring late, but I do hate it when I am late for someone or something.

My friend who is currently engaged just admitted to his fiancee that he's going to bring a book to read on the front row until she steps out of the car!

So Starbucks at Parramatta is closing down soon, and it would appear that the staff are having a bit of fun...

You know what they say, 'if you aim for nothing, you'll hit it every time' (i.e. nothing!).

I was thinking of this in relation to dreams and desires today. I've come across people who don't give themselves permission to dream or to think big. They wouldn't put it as such, excusing themselves for being realistic. But for one's dreams to live within the confines of a present situation severely limits the capacity to break out of that. Complete satisfaction with reality robs you of any motivation to better that reality. Goethe said that "to be pleased with one's limits is a wretched state."

True, there is always the element of lying to yourself: the things you dream may never come to pass. Friedrich Nietzsche said, "The visionary lies to himself, the liar only to others." To be consumed by your dream with no regard for the present reality is foolishness. The dream becomes nothing more than a fantasy with no chance of coming to pass.

Let me then propose a balance, a solution that embraces both extremes: a dream gives the dreamer direction for their present reality. A dream without direction or foundation in present reality is merely fantasy. A present reality without a dream is a mundane existence. The purpose of a dream is to determine and motivate the direction from the present reality to the future reality.

Now allow me to use examples from my own life. I dream of being a great husband and a great dad in the future. I am neither of those at the moment (something to do with the fact that I'm not married, nor a father!). If this dream doesn't affect my actions today, it's just a fantasy. I will never become these things just by dreaming them: I need to get myself around married couples and families and learn from them, to pursue relational and emotional growth in my existing relationships, intentionally becoming the kind of person that I need to be. If I didn't have this dream, the likelihood of my ending up at the same destination are even smaller - I didn't even have the motivation to try, let alone something to act upon!

I may not step into my dreams overnight, but I refuse to aim for nothing. Even if the outworking of that dream looks different to what I originally saw, I believe my life will be different and better as a result of acting upon a dream.

When we talk about significance, we can either be talking about people or things. While I want to focus on being a significant person, let’s just look at a thing that is significant. A statistic can be significant: it leads to a conclusion of some sort. A fact can be significant: it changes how we think of something (such as the significance of a political party being elected or of nuclear power). It’s a word that we think we know what it means, but you have to really work hard to nail it down. It talks about being important, and carrying meaning in some sort of way. Here’s the thing that really got me: a significant thing is not important in its own right, it’s only importance is in what it leads to. A significant fact is only significant because of the repercussions that it causes.

In our world, we talk about wanting to live a life of significance, but I don’t think we stop and think about that enough. We often like the sound of doing great things for God because it elevates us above others in a spiritual sounding way. Many people are enamoured by the thought of thousands of people listening to them preach. But that’s celebrity, not significance. The thought that’s been on my mind is that the essence of significance is servanthood. A significant person is remembered for what they gave, a memory that may well outlast them. Celebrity comes and goes, but when someone sows into you, or gives you exactly what you need at the point where you need it. You are a significant person when you throw yourself into giving what you’ve got (both material and what’s inside you) to those around you. You cannot label yourself a significant person – only those around you can decide that.

What does this look like on a practical level? It’s a choice in the little things: on a Saturday afternoon, do you choose to stay home and watch movies, or do you go and help a friend’s mum renovate her house. One sounds more relaxing, but it keeps you in your own selfish little world. Three months from now, no-one will care (including yourself!) that you stayed home and did your own thing. But you will be remembered for taking what you had and giving it away.

There comes a time when life changes. It may be sudden, it may be something you saw coming a mile off. A change in employment, living circumstance, friendship... Dealing with change takes focus and energy, something you don't always have to spare. The future is unknown - nothing is certain, nothing can be relied upon. The past is done - nothing can change it, as much as we might want to.

And so we linger. We hold back around the memory of what has been, as we gather our strength to process this change. We linger, trying to keep the known from passing into the realm of memory too quickly. We trust that which is known and hate to let it slip through our fingers. Yet we know we must. The past must not limit our ability to embrace the future; to transition into that which is unknown. It is the only way we grow, the only way we move forward; yet it is the road less traveled.

As we linger, we make the decision: to let the past become a fond memory or a stumbling block in the way of moving forward.

I have experienced in my own life and seen in others that submitting to another's vision can be difficult. To give up your own ambition and desire for the future and submit to someone else's vision, direction and authority is a sacrifice. Why would anyone in their right mind do it? What would possibly make such a sacrifice worthwhile?

The problem I see is that many people have huge dreams and huge vision for their lives. Many of these are based in fantasy and have little chance of coming to pass, but the dream is still a future reality in the imagination of the dreamer. Leaders, acting in practical wisdom, communicate a corporate vision that is attainable and based in reality. The unfortunate thing is that this corporate vision seems pale and insignificant in comparison to the individual's fantasy. And when the two conflict, it is too much to sacrifice the fantasy for the vision.

As leaders, what then constitutes a vision worth following? I am a part of a church where I have very little hesitation to put my own vision aside in order to be a part of the church's vision. This is because the church's vision is so much greater than my own vision. I recognise that through this vision, more will be accomplished, more people will be helped and more of a lasting impact will be sustained than through my vision.

A vision worth following is one larger than that of the individual: one that capitalises on the power of working as a team, one that is based in reality but has room to explode, and one that will leave a significant impact on the world when the individuals involved are long forgotten. That is a vision worth following. That is a vision worth sacrificing my own agenda for. That which better utilises my gifts and makes me more effective in the here and now - the choice is already made!

It is no accident that a thought on chivalry would be raised in the Valentine's season. I have made many observations and asked many questions. Here is something of what I have discovered...

In my world, chivalry is being defined by the women. And it is often defined in negative terms: they wistfully define chivalry as being something that is dead, or at very least by what they do not see/experience from the men in their lives. The bell continually tolls to signify and mourn the death of chivalry. My thought here is that chivalry, or gallantry, is not lost or dead and does not need to be resurrected. It is a seed, or a spark, that exists in all men. Some men exhibit it naturally, others have to search for it, others require someone else to help them draw it out.

The dictionaries use many words to define chivalry: courtesy, generosity, military strength and valour. I would be so bold as to summarise it as meekness and humility, qualities that Jesus happened to specialise in: the possession of strength and power, tempered by the choice of restraint or specific focus. I can't help but notice that while these things all appear to to learned behaviour, they all stem back to identity: who you ARE. A man can act in a courteous manner, or courtesy can be a defining characteristic of his character. Behaviour of this nature cannot flow out of weakness in an attempt to compensate or cover a lack: it must flow out of an abundance of strength, consistent with and representative of one's character. Yes, this does exist in every man, but it must be given the chance to become more than a spark.

Guys, chivalry is not about what you do: how you open the door for a lady, consider her needs, are sensitive to her feelings, offering your strength when she needs it. These things are all great things to do, but if they are just actions, they mean nothing. Any sleazebag or serial rapist can come across as being considerate, understanding, protective... Any man can act in a chivalrous manner towards a lady that he likes: it's wired into who we are - do whatever it takes to get the girl! The test of chivalry is to see how you treat the other women in your life. Your mother, your sisters (both natural and 'adopted'), your friends, even the cleaning staff or checkout operator at the supermarket? Do you 'spend' your strength on those?

Girls, if you're just looking out for roses or chocolates this Valentine's Day, please wake up and realise what it's all about. I refuse to buy into this nonsense of buying something for someone just because the calendar instructs me to. Valentine's Day is a day for lovers in our culture, but has also been an excuse for all women to be the beneficiaries of chivalrous acts. I wish to be generous in all that I do, giving liberally from all the strength and resource I have, but the expectation of that robs it of its wonder. Chivalry is a gift - something you can desire, but not something you can take for granted. Ladies, please give the men in your world space to shine. Expectations and fear of misunderstood intentions extinguish the spark of chivalry that exists in every man.

How can you be homesick for somewhere you've never lived, and have only ever visited briefly??

Today has been a day of perspectives. I got to work this morning and there were a million and one little things on my mind, sapping my mental capacity and slowing me down. They're all very relevant to life at the moment because they're things I cannot escape from: responsibilities at work, dear friends leaving Sydney permanently, needing to find a house at the moment... After an hour or so of working like that, we headed to staff meeting. In the past, it's felt like another obligation, another church service, another excuse to get together to do God-stuff. But today it was what I needed...

We stood and began to sing:

Standing here in your presence
Thinking of the good things You have done

OK, so I hadn't really been doing that. But with all I had in me, I tried to clear my head and think about what God has done.

Waiting here patiently
Just to hear your still small voice again

I didn't feel so patient... But I could feel the little thoughts and worries knocking on the door. So I stayed a little longer. Hardly a place of relaxation or peace, but a place of solitude at the eye of the storm.

Holy, righteous, faithful 'til the end
Saviour, Healer, Redeemer and Friend

This is where it dawned upon me: it's not about me! In 20 years, none of this will matter to me. But God will be just as holy, righteous, faithful...

And then finally, the chorus:

I will worship You for who You are

This was the perspective I needed. Today, worship meant admitting to myself that I'm not the centre of my universe. It meant recognising that God is so much bigger than me and in control than me... I worry about stuff because I can't control it. But it's not about me! I make it about me too often, but if I'll just let my mind let go once in a while and look at things from a perspective of eternity, it allows the heart rate to slow down a bit. Some might consider this to be a loss of identity - taking myself out of the driver's seat; but knowing that a loving God is in control of not only the universe but also my life and well-being is an extremely comforting thought!

I could work half of a full day the the office.
I could work a standard casual shift at Coles.
I could watch at least 2 feature length movies.
I could have coffee and a great chat with 2 or 3 friends in succession.
I could read the best part of a good book.
I could watch 6 episodes of a good TV show.
I could attend 2 church services, serving coffee between them.
I could catch up on sleep.
I could sit in Gloria Jean's waiting to see who walks past to interrupt me.

Or I could sit in an upright seat in a metal tube with 150 other people packed in like sardines, subjected to bad food (if any at all), discomfort and boredom.

I am approaching the end of the 5 hour flight between Perth and Sydney. Not a short flight but not a long one either, the time is dead. This is the 23rd time I've done this flight in 3 years and quite frankly, I'm over it! The world is getting smaller... But not small enough. You can try to redeem this lost time, but you're very limited in what you can do. Yet you cannot relax either. I guess it's the price you pay for not having to drive the same distance in 42 hours!

OK, sorry for being grouchy!

It's funny how bad habits are easy to form and good ones aren't. In Sydney, I work myself hard. Some criticise that saying it's bad for me, but I honestly feel frustrated when I've not got something to show for my time. If you've read my posts from the last two weeks, you'll see that living a significant life has been on my mind a lot and that stuff to entertain (all the more common with the retail push at this time of year) is often a distraction from the things that really matter in life.

To my dismay, I have found myself being sucked into this black hole of entertainment: spending money on things designed to do nothing else than consume a few hours. I have been adding to my DVD collection like there's no tomorrow, assisted by numerous sales in the stores ($13 really isn't that much for a DVD!)... As I returned from yet another shopping trip this afternoon (4 movies for myself today), I realised that being on holiday and not working with a purpose in mind was leaving a vacuum. Rather than fill the time with activities that require more effort, such as reading books I've wanted to read all year or working on my Dutch (which I do for enjoyment!), I've been spending money on things that will waste my time away. I have three days left in Perth and I haven't done anything that I wanted to do.

To counter the reaction that will inevitably come from some quarters, saying that I really need a holiday, I say this: yes, I need a holiday, but a holiday should give you time off what you have to do in order to do something you want to do. I wanted to do a certain amount of nothing, but I wanted to do other things as well. A holiday shouldn't have to put one's underlying purpose for living on hold - if it does, the integrity of the person in question starts to collapse!

Do you ever think about the days entrusted to you? At the end of each day, that's one less you have in which to make your mark on the world. I'm on holiday at the moment, but the sobering thought just occurred to me: "I have done nothing today, and I'm never going to get that time back." Work or relaxation, I always want to have something to show for my day. How much of my life am I just seeking and then chasing distractions?

In the quest for significance, the life is always greater than the sum of its days, yet the life is made up of individual days. May each of my days have united and integrated direction and purpose to be the building blocks of a significant life.

Gezellig is a Dutch word that defies translation and even definition, because it speaks of a feeling or atmosphere that evaporates when you try to pin it down. In my understanding, it talks about the atmosphere of love and friendship, of warmth and peace between people in a situation. (For a fuller explanation, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gezelligheid.)

=> Read more!

I lose track of who I tell this story to, so even if you have asked, I'll tell you again! :)

I studied languages at uni, with French as my major. I didn't know why, but I thought of becoming a translator. I started German at uni but sucked at it, so dropped it after a couple of years. I came to college with the intention of studying TV & Media and then coming back to Perth to do something related to that. Within my first couple of weeks, they announced (at Vision Sunday) that they were planning the Paris extension service. Over my first year, I realised that I wasn't going back to Perth long-term, and the thought of France never left me: it grew and grew in my mind. At the beginning of my second year, I was talking to a guy who had just come back from Paris (it had just started) and he was telling me that Gary Clarke's vision was to start extention services in Paris, Berlin, Barcelona, Brussels and Amsterdam (the first three are official at this point, last two are unconfirmed). This captivated me even more than the idea of just France on its own, and from that point onwards, my goal wasn't focussed specifically on France but Europe in general.

At that point, having always been interested in languages, I decided to work on all of the languages represented by those cities: French, German, Spanish and Dutch. As Dutch was the only language I'd had absolutely no experience with that, I made it a priority. Predictably, studying four other languages as well as full-time college, church and part-time work was pretty much impossible, despite the best of intentions! So for most of 2005, my focus was Dutch and a little French to keep my existing knowledge alive. I worked my butt off that year, every weekday morning... I never really planned to take it as seriously as it's become, in fact if anything I had reason to *not* study Dutch. But the more I studied the language, interacted with Dutch people, read about and actually visited Holland, the more I was drawn to the place. I wasn't able to work on it nearly as much this year because my overloaded schedule nearly killed me.

As this year has passed however, I've come more and more to the realisation that I do want to end up there. I do want to be smart about it though: I recognise that I'm 'useful' in Sydney at this point, and as much as I'd love to drop everything and move to the Netherlands, it would be like, “OK, I'm here - now what?” For the immediate future, I will be biding my time, being 'useful' in Sydney until an opportunity comes up that will make me more useful in Holland (which I am definitely keeping an eye out for!). At the end of the day, it's just a conviction that has grown over the last two years that has to be a God thing. There are too many reasons *against* learning Dutch and moving my whole life to the other side of the world for me to seriously entertain the idea if it wasn't for the God-factor. I honestly believe that I have something (undefined as yet!) to offer the Dutch people.

Many ask me why go to such lengths to learn the language when most of the population speaks English anyway. This is the outworking of an older conviction: that English speakers display such arrogance by expecting the rest of the world to speak English! Dutch people may be excellent speakers of English, but still prefer to speak Dutch as their native language - making this effort takes me out of my comfort zone and into theirs. Plus there's always the fact that I've always loved the challenge of a new language!

So that's why Holland. I don't know exactly when I'll be there, but this is so much more than a pipedream!

So, being on holiday in Perth is great but very strange at the same time. I feel like I'm in a parallel universe where something has happened to the space-time continuum...

The place feels normal: driving down Leach Highway, catching the bus to the city, walking around Garden City shopping centre. Although I haven't lived here for three years, everything feels normal: like I was running around living my life against this backdrop just last week.

The thing is that I don't have a life here. I am currently a spectator to other people's lives. Our common history together suffered a split, and although there are no hard feelings, I now live a life that doesn't involve them on a regular basis and they live a life that doesn't involve me. We meet to catch up, but that is all. (See earlier post on long-distance friendships for elaboration on this.)

Although I have a life of my own (in Sydney), I feel like I have been transposed into this parallel universe where a time warp has taken place: the space is all familiar, and all the relationships are there in some form or another; but they are merely empty shells of those that once were. This world feels normal yet is no longer real for me. It's an artificial construct: a waiting room for me to reflect upon the past. It holds no future for me - it perpetuates what once was, while everyone else in it continues to progress. I am just biding time as I wait to be transposed back into my world that is real. The world in which I participate, not just spectate. The world where space and time move forward. The world where I'm able to live.

An hour in a shopping centre is exhausting at this time of year. Everywhere has special offers, and it seems that there is an even greater selection of 'perfect gifts' to buy your loved ones. This isn't the usual seasonal ranting and raving about the evils of materialism... It has however caused me to reflect on the temporary nature of our existence...

I live in Sydney but I spend Christmas in Perth. It's a no-brainer that any gifts I receive have to come back to Sydney with me or get left behind in Perth. I am just passing through - I am very aware that there is very little I can take with me. In the accumulation of new possessions, I must continually ask myself whether 1) this is something I CAN take with me and 2) do I actually need it in Sydney? Browsing the shops full of potential gifts makes me realise that there's a lot of stuff that I want but really don't need. Why do I want it? As if I don't have enough diversions in life without voluntarily adding more! I am just passing through, not just Perth but in life too... I don't need more 'stuff', as much as I might welcome the diversion. All I really need is that which will enable me to fulfil my purpose both in Sydney and in life in general.

Robert Frost said, "Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired."

Isn't it strange, the things we will do for this... We are driven by irresistible desire, and we are motivated by this need to be desired with the same intensity... feels like a vicious circle!

Maintenant, je suis qui. Je deviens qui... quoi... J'étais étudiant, j'étais cassier à Coles, et maintenant, je ne suis ni l'un ni l'autre. Je sais que je devrais trouver mon identité dans les autres choses - je ne SUIS pas ce que je FAIS, mais ce que je SUIS! :) Qui deviens-je? Un homme de Dieu, quelqu'un qui a donné sa vie pour l'adoration de son nom, du culte. Je travaille avec les ordinateurs, mais ça ne dit rien au sujet de l'homme qui soit moi. Je travaille avec les médias, mais je suis plus que quelqu'un qui fait des choses comme ça. Je fais aussi des traductions, mais la langue n'a rien si l'homme qui parle n'est rien. Je ne suis plus ce que je fais - je suis l'homme que je suis en train de devenir.

Yep, that's me quoting Jesus... My finishing isn't as significant, but in my world, it comes close! It still feels strange: I am no longer a student! Considering I had been a student for over 20 years, it's not going to feel normal overnight! Realistically, I'm never going to stop being a student - if I stop learning, you may as well shoot me now! But still... No more classes, no more assignments... I think I need to sit down - it's making me dizzy!

Once again, it's the end of the college year and everyone will flee Sydney, some just for the summer, some permanently. Rather than be all miserable about that fact, I wanted to explore a thought I've had about people leaving.

The usual 'consolation' people come back with when you complain about people leaving is, "Well, now you have friends all over the world!" That's a nice thought... but it's not the best feeling to have hundreds of friends around the world and none in your neighbourhood to call and hang out with. Believe me, I know this scenario all too well!

The thing about long-distance friendships is that they become 'catch up' friendships by default, unless deliberate, conscious effort is made. A 'catch up' friendship is what happens when you're not directly involved in each other's lives - no matter how often you touch base, you're always catching up on what has taken place since the last rendez-vous. You're no longer doing life together. You're spectators on each others' lives.

Why is this distinction important? When you're doing life with people, they see who you are. They know your character first-hand. They're in a position to speak into your life and give you insights to yourself that can help you move forward. You're doing the journey of life together, helping when the going gets tough, there to celebrate the wins. The trap that we fall into in 'catch up friendships' is that all we think to share is what we're doing with ourselves at the moment, and recently significant events. The sad truth is that a friendship is built upon sharing the little details of life together, not just our occupation and significant milestones. In the case of some geographically-challenged relationships, you say that you 'can pick up just where you left off' with someone. To achieve this requires a significant shared history and mutual knowledge of each other, and I suspect this is more rare than we would like to believe.

To all my friends who are leaving Sydney: I am going to miss you like crazy. I will miss doing the everyday mundane things with you, the things that become so entertaining with a touch of randomness. I will miss all those things that are simply impossible in a friendship that spans thousands of miles. Let's try to avoid the almost-inevitable 'just calling to catch up' - let's try to stay so connected that we're still doing life together to some degree, not just spectating.

I am not American. Yes Josh, I am English... Thanksgiving at the end of November has never been a highlight of my calendar. But today, I had the honour of being a part of a thanksgiving dinner. The food was amazing, and there was so much of it! But the best bit was spending the best part of a whole day with friends. Some close, some just aquaintances; some American, many decidedly not American. Great food, great company, great atmosphere...

The cheesy thing to do right now would be to reflect on what I'm thankful for; but to be honest, I haven't done that... I wonder if stepping out and defining what I'm thankful for will take away from the wonder of the experience of appreciation.

I don’t have it all together, and I’m cool with that.

I haven’t always been like that. I’m a perfectionist and extend that to what I expect of myself. I continually fall short of what I expect of myself. The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” I could rewrite that: “For I have failed and fallen short of the glory of James!” From such a foundation, it is so easy to build a mindset of self-condemnation: “I’ll never be good enough,” which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy! This year has been a much needed journey for me – realising that the greatest accomplishment in life is actually enjoying the journey (of life)!

One of the lasting impressions I have of my university days is a huge stone feature in the wall. It was in the wall between the Arts building and the library, so I passed it whenever I was on campus. The feature comprised of two simple words: “KNOW THYSELF”. These words have stuck in my mind and given me much to ponder. I’m a thinker – I need to know and understand things before I can be comfortable with them, especially when that concerns myself. ‘Know thyself’ used to mean ‘know your weaknesses and don’t rest until they are strengths’. As you can imagine, I could never rest. There was always something to worry about fixing. As issues were rarely resolved to the desired degree, I lived in a cycle of self-condemnation.

I am enjoying this journey of becoming. The purpose of a journey is to reach a destination, and so progress is necessary to its purpose. But focussing on the changing scenery seems much more enjoyable than asking, “Are we nearly there yet?” The journey will take just as long either way! I still have perfectionistic, workaholic tendencies, and I still need certain people in my life to keep me from taking myself too seriously. I have not ‘arrived’ by any stretch of the imagination. But I have come to accept many of my weaknesses (not all of them!). I still expect a lot of myself, but it doesn’t worry me that I’m not perfect yet. I’m not living in total ignorance.

‘Know thyself’ is still an integral value in my life. To ignore weaknesses would be foolish as no-one is perfect. To know of weaknesses and do nothing about them seems irresponsible: just because the journey is difficult doesn’t mean you should abandon it and settle for who you are right now. I can get better in so many areas of life, and I make it my business to make myself aware of them.

So yeah, I don’t have it all together, and as long as the journey keeps moving forward, I’m cool with that!

Today's been an interesting one; one to really test my patience. Bear with me a second as I rant and rave about the little annoyances of the day.

I'm on a plane at the moment on my way back to Perth for the weekend and the trip here was eventful shall we say. I do the airport transfer thing on the cheap, catching the bus and the train, so I started my journey at 4.30 on the side of the road with a suitcase waiting for the bus to come. Despite being 7 minutes early, the bus was half an hour late. The bus is usually reasonably empty, affording at least a seat for every passenger. Naturally, the bus was packed on account of its tardiness, requiring me to travel standing.

=> Read more!

I want to be a man of integrity. That is a term thrown around a lot in Christian circles, but I say it for the sake of my own sanity. I want my life to fit together, most importantly my values determining my words and my words consistent with my actions. I say I value hard work, consistency and church but sometimes you’d question that through what you see of my actions. I want to be aware of my actions and keep it all consistent. This is not in an effort to please God – I know it’s only possible to have any chance of doing this with God. I guess I’m seeing the fruit of the Spirit in my attitude and thoughts, but it hasn’t fully filtered through to my words and actions yet.

I think of the concept of disintegration – something crumbling to dust. All the bits that make it up are still there, but the links that form the structure are gone. Integrity suggests structure and intentional links with purpose. Is being a person of integrity someone who is living on purpose, not just floating along, but intentionally building their life according to a pattern?

I want to be a man like that. I want to build towards a pattern of a man of God, sold out with devotion to his Saviour, a strong husband who enables his wife to flourish, an amazing father who sets an example that his kids want to follow. Just desiring that isn’t going to make it happen. God is not going to snap His fingers and make me that man. He is going to lead me along paths of righteousness, on a journey that shapes this man and teaches him to build his life.

Integrity is not just a destination but the journey towards that destination. It’s the process of bringing every aspect of one’s life into alignment with a common focus. You could become an axe-murderer of integrity if that was the focus of your thoughts, words, values and actions. May my thoughts, words, values and actions focus on my creator, and through that unity of focus come the strength of integrity.

I was thinking today about how our world is starved of love. A nice little sermonette would outline how our world needs love, God is love, therefore our world needs God. But that's too simple and trite for me.

I was watching Grey's Anatomy earlier this evening with some friends and we were discussing how the show had gone downhill with all of the characters sleeping with all of the other characters and it having no morality and all that jazz. Yes, this violates my concept of morality, but can you look behind that? The characters are reflections of people in real life - they are intended to be relatable. Can you get close enough to hear the cry of their heart? "Love me. Tell me that I'm worth something. Accept me for who I am. Take away the pain and emptiness of being lonely. I'm not strong enough to face life alone. Somebody just love me and make me feel alive." The opportunity to sleep with someone is an opportunity to let someone close for these characters. The chance to let down their guard and let someone in. Every time, disappointment is inevitable. Another person cannot satisfy the hunger for love that we feel. We cannot give enough without having strings attached.

So the knee-jerk answer is that 'God is love' and can satisfy our need for love. There's a 'God shaped hole in all of us'. But I know that I still struggle. My world is not hopeless and I don't feel like I'm dying of love-starvation. But I forget the amazing, unfailing, unending love of God for ME because I cannot see the giver. Why is this? Why do I need to see to believe, see to receive? I have access to that which will satisfy my need and thirst for love for all of eternity, yet I fail to tap into the source. It's like a starving man surrounded by so much food that he doesn't know where to start eating and stays hungry. I don't have a further explanation or solution - that's just how things appear to be.

I feel like a mess and don’t know how to change. God, this is me – how much further do I need to go before I’m at the end of myself. I’m tired of trying to change by willpower, yet still I persist. I’m tired of playing games, trying to win Your favour, approval and affection. This is me, but I don’t want to be this ‘me’. I want to be more sanctified, I want to be more focussed on You – I want to be thinking about myself much less and let you take over my life. You are my only hope, yet still I won’t hand over the reins. I want to be so much more, but still my motive is for me to feel good about myself. I want to die to myself yet still the survival instinct kicks in. I want peace – no more striving to be someone that I’m obviously not. Why am I like this? Why can’t I just surrender? A trite answer brings no comfort to a complex situation. Yet who am I that You are mindful of me? The question isn’t ‘who am I?’ – it’s the marvel that You are thinking of me. My Saviour and my God calls me ‘friend’.

Who am I that You are mindful of me?
That you catch me when I fall
Is it true that You are thinking of me?
How You love me – it’s amazing!

I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
You call me friend

I was just musing upon the fact that I take it for granted that I want my life to count for something. Significance is a thirst of which I am conscious. I think about some of the people I run into in my day and how they are so pre-occupied with themselves, their lives, families, jobs, security, comfort. I'm pretty self-centred as well, but I can't help but look beyond myself and see glimpses of the bigger picture.

Wasting time frustrates me no end, whether it's me wasting my time or someone else wasting it for me. I feel time slipping away from me in seconds, hours, weeks and years and I want to look back and see how I invested that time. Investing in a career doesn't grab me - at the end of the day, what's it worth? The focus of a career is usually me and my security/wealth, although I have great respect for those who continually give of themselves to a greater cause and whose 'career' has developped out of that attitude.

At the end of the day, I'm not satisfied with the world. There's too many things wrong with it, too many for me to fix on my own. But if everyone sits down on their butts and just focusses on themselves, it will only get worse. I take it for granted that I want to make a difference - I couldn't imagine thinking differently - but for those who don't, let me challenge you with this: every second of life you have is a gift. The paradox of this gift is that the more you try to enjoy it, the more you lose it and eventually resent it; but the more you invest it, the more it grows, satisfying and nourishing yourself and those around you. Feel free to change your world - the sacrifice might just be worth it!

The word on my mind this week is 'grace'. It's something I've heard spoken about before, inside and outside of the church. And it's become a word that sort of means lots of good things but you forget what it means. Definitions don't do it justice, nor do most explanations. I think the reason it's on my mind is because I know I don't get it.

We've just had the Grace & Favour seminar at church with Joseph Prince from Singapore. This guy's insights are amazing! I can't begin to explain it without outlining pages of theology behind it; but he basically contrasts living under law (having to DO stuff to make God like you) and living under grace (having everything DONE for you), with all sorts of examples from all over the Bible.

We think of grace as being God stooping down from heaven and giving us the time of day. But we make it sound so dull and dry and boring. A God who is a person who thinks and feels placing such value and love upon each one of us (yes, ME!) that would go to such amazing lengths to get back in relationship with Himself. How can my life not be changed as a result of that? But we neutralise grace by applying law. We try to earn this gift - we try to make God like us by what we do and feel guilty and ashamed when we don't live up to His expectations. But He loves us just the same... The words of a song by Chris Tomlin echo in my ears right now: "You see the depths of my heart and you love me the same..."

Here are some of the thoughts that I wrote in my notebook that are rattling around in my head:
- He didn't come to make bad people good but make dead people live!
- Grace is not a subject, it's THE gospel. Grace is not a doctrine, it's a person.
- The more legalistic you are, the less effective Christ is within you.
- Grace will swallow up sin and set you free. Grace is GREATER than sin, not 'just enough'.

First things first - this title is borrowed from Josh. He said he'd hurt me considerably if I stole his line and didn't credit him. He brought it up in conversation and really got me thinking...

We emphasise all the benefits of Christianity when we preach - freedom, forgiveness, wholeness, grace, favour, prosperity... But at the end of the day, a lot of those are about ME and how they make MY life better. We sugar coat it to make it appealing, and in some ways, palatable. But there is a sharp edge that we are slower to share with people because it hurts. Some things hurt, but we can look through the pain and see the great results (for ME) on the other side. But some things have no such resolution...

That to which I refer is dying to oneself. When I die to myself - my dreams, desires, thoughts, opinions, feelings, emotions - I am not doing it because it feels good. Some try to emphasise the end result being so great, or they take some masochistic pleasure in putting themselves through pain. I'm having thoughts and feelings that are not sinful in and of themselves, but I know in my heart that following through with them is not in my best interests or the interests of others close to me. They're selfish, and meet a need that I feel I have in my life. Even if I didn't follow them through to conclusion, I could enjoy myself indulging in these thoughts and feelings.

As I die to myself, I cut these off in their tracks: I refuse to think the thoughts or feel the emotions. Somehow I know that it's in my best interests, but as I'm down there in the trenches of day to day life, I don't necessarily see this big picture. I don't have a carrot placed five steps ahead of me to keep me walking through. All I know is that a voice whispers in my ear, "Trust me, this is somethings you need to do." And to be honest, I don't always hear that. Sometimes you're just left with the dull ache of nothingness, as 'self' has been buried but is still banging on the lid of the coffin, begging to be let out: to be felt, experienced, lived...

This is the pointy end of Christianity - the end that pierces flesh and starts to rip out that which does not glorify God. That which does not promote the call of God on my life. That which does not build others up. I don't continue along this path of gradual martyrdom because it feels good, because that just isn't the case. I don't continue because God has directly told me to cut specific things out. I continue because of a haunting conviction that this is the right thing to do, that He will increase and I will decrease whatever the cost to me. Bringing glory to God has NOTHING to do with me or my comfort levels - it really is and always will be all about HIM.

Some people dance, others do silly things... I asked myself that question today and realise that I either think or I sing. I do both of those things when people are around, don't get me wrong - I'm not one of those people who refuses to sing when asked, but I don't usually sing at the top of my lungs when others are around. But when I'm walking on my own, if I don't have something deep to think about, I will sing. In English, French or Dutch - whatever I know the words to! And I don't care how good or bad I sound (although I like the sound of my voice most of the time) - it just brings warm happy feelings to my heart!

Dieu Eternel, ta lumière brille quand tout pâlit
Dieu infini, Ta gloire est au-dessus de tout
Et la crie de mon cœur est de Te louer
De mon intérieur, Dieu, mon âme s'écrie

I was looking at my can of deodorant this morning (yes, I do use it!) and saw this...

Now I may be going crazy here but what guy in his right mind would use this stuff? According to this logic, a shower + spraying your body with this product turns you into a semi-naked woman *squared*! What's with that? Or does this can contain spray paint to spray on the bikini? Yes, I know what the marketers are getting at (and very politically correct they are too!), but it just doesn't make logical sense in this diagram!

To live takes courage. Most decisions happen by default – it takes courage to make a decision and stick to it that bucks the status quo. We love to watch dramas and even soap operas because we see people living and making decisions that shape their lives. We comment and pass judgement on those lives and the consequences we see, and that fills the emotional need to actually live these things. But it’s incomplete. It goes some way to scratch the itch but never satisfies. Pain is the response to circumstances: it lets you know that something is going on. Pleasure and pain are both sensations that let you know you’re alive. Pain and pleasure are always the consequence of a decision. You can choose to live by default to avoid the pain, but you do yourself out of the pleasure as well. Your life can pale into dull nothingness, feeling nothing but the occasional thrill of living vicariously through others. I choose to make decisions. I choose to feel pain if it means I may feel pleasure as well. I choose to live.

The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.

Thomas Paine (1737 - 1809)

I like this... How much more do you appreciate something when you've really had to work for it? So much life application...

Another post from Gloria Jeans. I'm having a deliciously lazy day, as is most of Hillsong Church, recovering from doing a great conference. I realised that I was able to do two of my favourite things at once: talk to people on MSN (some might say 'harass) and drink great coffee and watch the world go by. I've been here a couple of hours already and have little intention of moving soon!

One of the hardest things for me this week has been the lack of good coffee. I no longer drink instant coffee at home, and I'm no longer satisfied by percolated coffee. I love espresso coffee with properly steamed milk. There were various coffee outlets at Olympic Park (Conference) and I tried many of them, and most were hideous! I tried a latté early in the week and the barista did the following:
- the coffee was pre-ground
- he used long-life milk, not fresh milk
- the milk had already been heated and he pepped it up
- the milk and the foam had already separated in the jug - just passable for a cappuccino but not for a latté!

Needless to say, I didn't want to drink it after I saw him make it, but did anyway.

What can I say? I'm a coffee snob! All I need now is an espresso machine at home!!

OK, so I haven’t written anything in this blog for ages. To be honest, life has been too busy and I’ve had a hard enough time keeping up in my journal. But here, I have something to write about. I went shopping last night, hence the title. I hadn’t especially planned on doing this, but in retrospect, I’ve been thinking about this for ages.

So… I bought a new computer. To be more specific, an iBook G4 12” model. We only use Macs at the E&E Office and I’ve held out with my PC for a long time. There are many reasons I can use to try to justify myself, all of which are reasonable; and I know that I’ll be paying it off for a while. But I still can’t quite get over the fact that I actually have a Mac now! I’ve been fixing them all year (learning them and keeping one step ahead of everyone else as much as I can!), and now I have my own. I love the portability aspect (so much lighter than Rhianna, my PC) and how cleanly it operates. And the battery life is awesome! OK, I can’t get nearly as much done with it because all the software I’ve been using for years is PC based, but I’ll survive… with both!

So yeah, a blog post out of the blue. Don’t know when the next one will happen seeing as it’s Hillsong Conference next week. It’s all good though: this is my 3rd conference as a volunteer!

Once upon a time, back in the early 90s, there was a phenomenon that swept popular culture. Some called this an abomination, others welcomed it with open arms. Following the lead of friends committed to researching the parallel phenomenon of the rock star which has since become deeply rooted in Western culture; I choose to research a more evasive, transient subject: the boy band.

A boy band has a couple of essentials and a couple of options to make it work:
Essentials:
- a manager with dubious ethics and a desire to make money whatever it takes
- a songwriter in touch with the emotional deficiencies in the teenage relationships of the population (willingness to exploit is a must)
- record company looking for a quick, short lived investment
Options:
- vocalists with immaculate grooming, rating at least an 8.3 on the 'hot stuff scale' (male gender, vocal ability and shirts desirable but not essential)
- rehearsal time

It is important to realise that the boy band is a man-made creation. The creativity comes from the management and external sources. Under no circumstances should the creativity come from the recuited band members - they have been hired for their appearance and stage presence only (see Josie & The Pussiecats). The vocals can be recorded by other parties - musical integrity is not an issue (see New Kids On The Block). The individuals within the 'band' (in the loosest sense of the word) are merely vehicles: to channel revenue from the fickle population to the coffers of the recording company and management company.

The boy band can be likened to a shooting star - it may be extremely short lived, but it lights up popular culture for a short time. Radio, TV, CD stores, dodgy supermarket promotions - the population cannot escape this. While the rock star's career is paced for the long haul, the marketing principles behind launching a boy band to stardom relies upon speed and surprise. One day, the group is unknown; the next day, there is no escaping them. It matters not how long their career lasts for: this is a short term investment, so it lasting beyond six months is a bonus. And the investment can be renewed: all you need is a different set of 'singers' and you can start the whole process again!

I had a couple of hours off today to escape the estrogen cloud that is Hillsong this week (i.e. Colour Your World conference), so I decided to catch up on breakfast and watch Beauty & The Beast.

Disney movies... I'm not a fan of all of them, but there are some classics that I still love. Beauty & The Beast is my all-time favourite, but Aladdin and The Lion King are up there as well. Why is it considered not cool for a young adult male to like cartoons? Such good movies! Having said that, there were a few things that struck me as a little unrealistic. (Yes, I know being an animated fantasy movie doesn't help...)

The timeframe moves so fast! Let's assign a day to each event... The grand opening with Belle in the village happens on Monday morning. She goes home and Maurice just happens to get his invention working that day. The inventor's fair is Tuesday, so he sets out Monday afternoon. He finds the beast's castle late that night and is imprisoned.

Tuesday morning, Gaston proposes, Phillippe (the horse) returns and Belle sets out to look for Maurice. They just find the castle and she finds her father late afternoon. Maurice is set free and she takes his place. She refuses dinner with the beast and then goes downstairs late that night for the 'Be Our Guest' extravaganza. She can't sleep after so much excitement so goes on a tour of the castle. Stumbles upon the West Wing and the rose, the beast finds her and scares her away, she runs out into the night. Still on Tuesday (late evening), she's cornered by wolves and the beast saves her life. She takes him back to the castle, can't leave his wounds until morning so dresses them then.

Wednesday is a day of playing in the snow, getting to know each other and Belle finding 'there's something there that wasn't there before'.

Thursday, they eat breakfast together and he takes her to the library. Thursday night is the night of the 'big date' where they're pretty much in love. She sees her father in the mirror, the beast lets her go, she takes him home. The village come to collect Maurice and then form a mob to storm the castle. The big battle also takes place on Thursday night, late at night. The last petal of the rose drops, the beast dies and is then transformed back into a human.

Friday morning, everything is back to normal - for all intents and purposes, the couple live happily ever after.

As you can see, this takes place over 4 days - 96 hours! Maybe I'm rushing through, but there's no evidence that there were any more days in between the events, and all the events lead on from one another. Belle goes from wanting 'so much more than this provincial life' on Monday to princess on Friday. She doesn't know the guy on Monday, they're effectively married on Friday. Doesn't this timeframe seem just a little fast?

I was walking home today and I saw the most fascinating thing. I was on a footpath that cuts between houses (between NorWest and Plover Glen for those in the know) and I saw a furry line in front of me. On the right hand side of the path was a hedge, on the left was a concrete wall. This line came out of the hedge, went straight across the footpath, hit the wall and curved right, went along the side of the wall for 2 metres, turned right again and went back across the footpath.

The line was a procession of furry caterpillars, head to toe (do caterpillars have toes?) for about 4 metres. When you consider a caterpillar is about 4cm long, that would have been 100 caterpillars all in a line. I was fascinated by this! I must have stood standing for about 10 minutes. Where did they all come from? Why did they choose to go in procession like that? Why did they take the journey that was 3 sides of a square?

I noticed that for some reason, one caterpillar in the line had a problem and decided to curl up in the fetal position (again - is that possible for a caterpillar??). The line kept moving though - the others in line closed the gap and continued the journey. A minute later, our little friend decided he was up to travelling again, uncurled himself and went back over to the group. He nuzzled his way in, finding the rear end of another caterpillar, and joined the line again.

I walked away trying to find a lesson from this experience, but nothing readily presented itself to me. Perhaps this - if you're sick, the world will keep moving, but you'll figure out a way of getting back in the game? Or that there's safety in numbers? Or that roadmaps allow you to work out the more efficient route?

Or should I say 'chai tea'... I'm trying to get myself into an alternative to coffee (cos I drink *way* too much of that!), and chai tea smells pretty good so I'm trying that. Horrible on its own, but I quite like it with sugar. Dunno if it's good enough to get me to give up coffee though.

New youth album is out - I love it!!

I have a theory: you often see many facets of a person, sometimes they sit well together, sometimes they don't. My theory is that the closest to the *real* person inside them is who they are when they're tired. Not so tired that they're about to drop dead, but worn out from a hard day.

Why do I think that? Because keeping up an appearance takes more energy, focus and concentration than not doing so. I've seen it in myself and in others. When I'm tired, I retreat into my shell. If I'm at all social, it's only one on one with people. Parties when I'm tired drain me because I'm naturally such an introvert. I can go and be social but it takes effort.

I was watching someone today which brought this to mind. This person is pretty outgoing (especially compared to me), but I happened to catch them at the end of a long day. Tired, irritable, and little spare energy to put on an act. It actually made me feel more comfortable around them - I didn't feel like I had to work them out - what they were thinking/feeling was quite obvious. It wasn't the perfect mask we all try to maintain, it was just real.

I don't want to be cranky at everyone, being tired all the time just so people can see who I really am; but it did make me realise how laying aside the act of the person we're trying to be can bring freedom to both you and people experiencing you. I don't understand why it's always the negative side that is more visible in this 'real mode' - it gives some explanation of why we try to cover it up. Hmmmmm....

When you're a kid, everything is black and white. Something is either nice or it's not, good or bad, one thing or another. I remember a boy called Richard bring in my class for a number of years in primary school. He was known by all of us (and our parents) as 'naughty Richard'. He was always the one to do something silly or naughty in class. Looking back on it, he was probably a great kid - in fact I remember going over to his house once to play and we had a great time - but he was still 'naughty Richard'.

As adults, we think that we're slightly more open minded and don't box people quite as quickly. Well, I thought I was. But I found myself jumping to conclusions about people very quickly. I am now coming to the realisation that I can learn something from everyone. No-one is perfect, but everyone can teach me something. Some people have particular qualities that I admire. I want to sit under them and see how they developed that. Others have 'qualities' that drive me crazy - that annoy me incredibly! Rather than run a mile from these people, I can still sit under them and learn what NOT to do. I want to apprentice myself to those around me, to learn from them and develop various aspects of myself.

You may pick something up about me as I write this - it looks like I'm trying to make myself into the perfect person by observing the people around me. It's as if I have no identity of my own and I'm trying to piece something together from what I see in others. In some respects, this is true. I feel undefined, I feel like I don't know how to 'be'. I want to discover the uniqueness of myself and I want that to be able to flourish. But at this point, the only way I feel I can uncover this truth about myself is to compare myself against what I see. A negative match is not a bad thing (as it might otherwise be), a negative match tells me something more about myself. The very act of identifying something I like or dislike in someone else shows me something about myself.

A master craftsman is one of a kind. He is unique, both as a person and in the expression of his gift. Apprentices come and sit under him to learn his craft, not to become a clone of him. I want to be an apprentice to those around me, absorbing the craft and along the way forging a unique identity that is me. Someone I am, not just something I do. I've got too good at learning the craft: the craft and ensuing product is useless without the craftsman.

It's been a while since I've posted... Don't know if anyone has come looking for new insights, but I'm sorry if I've disappointed you. Here's something that was going through my mind today - and please allow me to speak candidly!

It would appear to us guys at Bible college that the girls around us have got ridiculously high standards, something I suspect many hide behind because they don't actually know what they want, but that is getting off-topic. Having high standards is a good thing - if it filters out the guys who really aren't wasting your time with. But here's the thought that was running through my head: with a girl or a guy who sets high standards in what they're looking for in someone of the opposite sex, do they measure up to the standard themselves? This could be silly, I know - if physical beauty was one of my criteria, that would mean I'd have to consider myself physically attractive as well. I was thinking more of the inner qualities: things like working hard or being disciplined, or serious about what they believe. If I were to rule someone out just because their spiritual maturity showed to be lacking, but then wasn't committing to growth in my own life... Something feels wrong there! Yes, we're all different and are going to display different strengths and weaknesses that will ultimately complement each other in a long term relationship. But if we use those things as a means to rule someone out as a potential (usually on the grounds of them being your core values), doesn't that show inconsistency on your part?

Some of the background to this progression of thought is that I've been kinda judgmental of those around me recently, but the surprising (and good!) thing about this is that something in me has chosen to turn back all these judgements onto myself. I may decide I don't agree with someone's attitude or something, but very quickly, I end up asking myself if that is present in my life as well. Conversely, when I see something I like, I ask the same question and try to build it into my life.

Random, I know, but it's what's going through my mind...

For the last week, I've had these new orthotics in my shoes. They reposition my feet slighty to correct my walk. At first, they were really painful. Now, I hardly notice them unless I'm at work and have to stand in the same place at once. But they are worth it - I have noticed a difference in my walk already. They also have a knock-on effect on my lower back and my posture. They make me stand up straight and (literally) give me a spring to my step.

Now why am I posting about these things in my shoes? Because it's come at a time when I've been challenged in different ways to stand up spiritually. To move forward. To not accept second best. To go for it in whatever it put my mind to. This is more than just positive thinking - it's living out of my God-given identity. Two people in the last week have commented on the fact that I'm looking well. Naturally speaking, nothing has changed: exercise (or lack of), diet, etc.. But my view of life and myself has been slowly changing, one thought at a time, towards a place of confidence and victory. It sounds superficial when I write it, but the change I'm seeing happen in my internal world is profound.

I don't think the arrival of the orthotics is co-incidental; but I don't think they have caused the internal changes either. The changes they have caused in the visible world are just a reflection of what is happening inside.

OK, so I was just reading in Exodus about the manna that God sent for the Israelites. And this struck me... It doesn't sound like it had much substance: it was white flakes on the ground that had the capacity to melt and the capacity to go mouldy. But you know what really got me about this? This must have been the ultimate multi-vitamin of all time! The Israelites lived off this stuff for 40 YEARS, and they didn't suffer any sickness on the way. Is that cool or what? Sure, they had other bits and pieces along the way (like quail, right?) but this multi-vitamin met all of their nourishment requirements for nearly half a century. Kids would have grown up knowing nothing else. I find that pretty cool, don't you?

I was going to write this post a few months ago, but then many of the people who inspired it were away for the summer and I wasn't reminded until they started coming back into my life again.

Recently, I've been blessed to spend some time with some different people, people that I haven't spent much time with in the past. This is in no way intended to discredit the awesome bunch of people who have endured me for so much longer, but you see different things in different people. Different personalities highlight different traits... and reflect different things about you! With a couple of these 'new friends', I've been blown away by their uncomplicated nature. What you see is what you get. They don't have to take time to get to know you. They just welcome you into their lives and make you a part of it. Is it just me or do less and less people do that these days? We're all so caught up in our own lives and our own agendas that we don't let people in as easily as we could. We complicate things for ourselves and make each other jump through hoops (always undefined) to gauge where the friendship is at...

I'm not saying that all my friends are complicated. Actually, this has made me take a good hard look at myself. As a general rule, I'm not the most social person and it takes a lot (in my mind) to build a strong friendship. (That done, I hold onto that friendship maybe a little too much!) I'm the complicating factor. It's as if my hand is stiff - it takes a lot to get it to grasp something, but a lot to unclench it. Being around these people has shown me how to loosen my grip - to approach things (i.e. friendships) with an open hand, ready to connect but ready to let go as well.

I want to be more like this - uncomplicated - free to wander into people's lives without tests, gauges, terms and conditions - and just as free to let something slide without too much regret. Is this ever achievable for anyone?

My crazy time management practices make many a person laugh, and others shake their heads with sadness that I have reduced life to a schedule. Well, this last week, I found myself without Outlook, without the capacity to sync my Palm, and without the ability to print anything. I wondered how I would react to that. Not good! Although it's still summer break and there isn't so much work to be doing, there are still things I need to remember and to get done. My anxiety levels have skyrocketed because I feel out of control. I don't have a checklist of what I need to remember, and being a visual person, I don't trust my ability to hold it all in my mind. I was kind of wondering if the to-do list was ruling me, being a cruel task-master that never let up and fueled my workaholicism. But I've realised that my system was developed for a purpose - it took my task-drivenness as a given and actually preserved my sanity by keeping me aware of what I needed to be doing. So while Outlook/Palm/daysheet does run my life, that's a good thing - it recognises the kind of person I am and serves as a protection mechanism so I don't go crazy!

BTW, putting cinnamon in hot chocolate makes it taste *sooo* good!

OK, so I just came across this forward which seems to make the rounds every so often... Stay tuned for my comments afterwards...

I'm the guy who will text you every single morning and tell you good morning and every single night to tell you sweet dreams.

I'm the guy who will text you and tell you "i love you and wish you were here" just because.

I'm the guy who will blindfold you, take you to the beach and let you run your toes through the sand then make you guess where we are.

I'm the guy who will show up at your games (or competitions or meets) without you knowing just to surprise you.

I'm the guy who will hold you when you're crying and wipe away your tears.

I'm the guy who still thinks you're beautiful with no makeup on, wearing sweats and a big t-shirt.

I'm the guy who won't pressure you to do things you dont want to.

I'm the guy who will show up at your house with soup and a movie when you aren't feeling well.

I'm the guy who kisses you on the forehead.

I'm the guy who doesnt kiss and tell.

I'm the guy who actually listens to you when you talk.

I'm the guy who's excited all day because im looking forward to our date that night.

I'm the guy who is content to just be able to hold you and wants nothing more.

I'm the guy who can't help but smile when you walk into the room.

I'm the guy who's perfectly content with staying in and watching movies and cuddling.

I'm the guy who won't lie to you about where he's going or where he's been or who he's been with.

I'm the guy who gets butterflies when he hears your name.

I'm the guy who's not afraid to tell his friends he loves you.

I'm the guy who doesn't care about your imperfections and loves you more for them.

I'm the guy who will hold you while we watch the sunset.

I'M THE GUY WHO REALLY WANTS TO MAKE YOU THE HAPPIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD.

Girls if this is your perfect guy repost this with the title "I want this guy"

Guys if this is you repost this with the title "I'm that guy"

Awwww, how sweet. Do I think I'm that guy? No - I'm not perfect. Do I think this guy exists? Sure, in the form of a S-N-A-G or a metrosexual. :p Nah, what gets me about this is that girls say this is what they want, but that's definitely not all there is to it. All of the above doesn't count for nada if there's no attraction (physical or otherwise) there to begin with. And a guy can do all of the above out of insecurity and be super-clingy or exhibit any number of issues which will sooner or later drive the girl away.

Do I say this out of bitterness? Possibly! I don't actually know where I'm coming from, but when I read this, I was overwhelmed by frustration. Of course guys want to know what girls look for in a guy, but when it's not the whole story, it doesn't help anyone! Everyone's taste and need is different - therefore the 'perfect person' will be different for everyone. Thank goodness for that - if there was only one description of the perfect person, we'd all be screwed!

Closing thoughts? Maybe a message from me to all the ladies: don't be afraid to be honest about what you want, and the whole story as well. If you want a 6'2" African American guy with a Mercedes and no interest in raising children, just say so! (If nothing else, I'll give those who don't fit the bill the message not to bother! :) )

As I write this, I am stuck. I've just finished my weekly groceries and it's tipping it down with rain outside. Walking home with heavy bags, whatever the distance, doesn't sound like fun! Admittedly, I can think of worse places to be - I'm at Gloria Jean's, but I'd better not have another coffee (already up to my daily max!).

I was just thinking: even if I had an umbrella, it wouldn't do me a lot of good if both of my hands are full with groceries. It's times like these that call for something from the 'Book of Stupid Japanese Inventions' - a helmet with an umbrella coming out of the top. It'd make me look dumb for sure, but would still allow me dry passage home!

I'm starting to think about my third year thesis, which I want to write about the power of words. I want it to be a mainly biblical study, but I keep on thinking about the linguistic side of things as well. What are words? Language just provides a framework for our thoughts... I'm absolutely fascinated by second language acquisition - how we pick up languages later in life. A lot of this interest is selfish - I want to find the best method of learning a language for me!

Kids learn language quickly (basic command and competence) before they are 4 years old. I've been learning French for 14 years now and I'm nowhere near competent! I was wondering why learning a language after the 'critical age' (about 9) is so much harder... Well as a child, your world is simple, but you need a way to articulate and describe your world, however simple that is. So you learn words that match concepts in your infant mind. As the concepts you're capable of understanding grow, your vocabulary necessarily expands to be able to articulate that. As a second language learner, your life is already as complex as it's going to get. You experience life in all different forms and nuances, and already have a way of expressing that in your mother tongue. You are frustrated when you have an adult experience in all its richness and don't have the means of expressing yourself appropriately. So you fall back to mother tongue which is easy - the language acquisition process is foiled. Language becomes a study - an add-on to what you already know. But language doesn't work like that - language has to be lived, thought, breathed. You can't learn a language by translation - the words have to be a direct expression of the concept you are trying to express. Otherwise so much is lost, is missed...

My solution: to all my Dutch friends - treat me like a baby! Ignore my manners, ignore my incompetency, ignore my inability to communicate, above all ignore my English! Baby-talk to me, adult-talk to those around me. As I let go of my hold of my English expression of the adult experience, I will have to go through the childhood experience again and in doing that, acquire a way of expressing that directly. Rather than translating, I learn to live it... from the basup!

I am writing this post in no-man's land. I am on a plane once again, en-route to Sydney. I have often mused in the past that when I'm in Perth, my life in Sydney feels like a dream: one that is so detailed it seems real, but so far removed from the reality that my eyes see that I can hardly believe that it is actually my life. Conversely, when I'm in Sydney, my life in Perth feels the same way. Two very different lives that somehow I keep switching between. On the plane right now, it really does feel like no-man's land - the reality of Perth is fading in my conscious mind and I am forced to rely on long term memories. Still vivid, but always a different way of looking at a place. Yet as I haven't yet arrived in Sydney, that life isn't my current reality yet. There's definitely a sense of anticipation to see what this fabled 'other life' will hold, but it feels just as vague and intangible.

That feeling will fade soon. After a brief stop in Melbourne (true no-man's land for me!!), it'll be back to Sydney and this post will seem foolish when I read back and put it on the web. But it's a feeling I want to capture... It does make me concerned about myself though - it is incredibly easy to be two totally separate people when your two worlds have nothing in common but you. Maybe that reflects on my personal identity, maybe on my integrity... I want to be the same person wherever I am because the motivations behind split personalities only reflect inadequacies. Not that I'm afraid to show the world my inadequacies, but because it has the capacity to send you (literally!) crazy!

So many things I could write about, being Christmas Day and everything, and believe me, I have many seasonally relevant thoughts. But I’m choosing to write about chairs instead! This morning, my family and I went to the Christmas morning service at Riverview Church (here in Perth). I haven’t been here in a year, but wasn’t expecting much to have changed. Riverview feels like what I’m used to most of the time, speaking church styles. But they had undergone a major upgrade in the past year: new chairs!

One of Phil Baker’s specialities is preaching from movies, and I guess they’ve thought around that whole concept a bit and made the church auditorium more like a cinema. These chairs are awesome – so comfortable! Such a long way from the wooden pews that keep you awake from the discomfort. Mum raised the thought that people might go to sleep in church, but you’d hope that the service was sufficiently engaging. Anyway, although I like the chairs in both venues at Hillsong, two very enthusiastic thumbs up to Riverview Church!

Seasonal greetings to all! Is it just me, or does the euphoria of the fact that ‘it’s Christmas!’ dry up pretty quickly? I would hate to have my birthday on the 27th or 28th or something when everyone’s in a sort of a downer after Christmas. Two days before sucks as well, but at least everyone is still getting all pumped up and there’s a sense of anticipation.

This came up in a conversation yesterday and started me thinking... Everyone has the capacity to act seriously and be mature, and also the capacity to be random, silly and immature. I was wondering why some people were known for being one or the other all the time, and why other people come across as 'well rounded' people. This is my conclusion...

It comes down to how we decide to compartmentalise it. I've seen people who are extremely serious at work and church, but get them in a social setting and they can do some crazy stuff. There's nothing wrong with this, especially reserving the serious side for work (sorry: people who slack off at work really bug me!), but it means that you're never really yourself in any area of life. I remember people I used to work with: smart guys doing law and other full-on degrees. They would work hard at any uni project they had to do, but come the weekend, half would be spent partying (including any number of crazy antics!) and the other half sleeping/otherwise recovering from the party life. I see it in the church as well - serious about church and 'spiritual' things, and then go all crazy when just out with friends. (Ironic that the focus of Christianity is doing life with people!) The more I think about it, the more unfulfilling this seems to be. You can never be well and truly yourself - you're either putting on the mask or you're getting relief from having worn that mask.

The solution? Sounds simple but the implementation isn't always quite so easy. Be yourself in all situations! Find creative, random outlets at work (and church) to express that side of yourself. One dimensional characters are so boring, yet that's the picture we try to present. The flip side of the coin is to be responsible and serious in other things (such as relationships). Random/silly/funny is fun to spend time with but there's very little substance in that. There's always a balance between the two, and we tend to flip to extremes when we're nervous or insecure (think about the domineering boss, or a party where you don't know many people). Serious and silly don't have to be mutually exclusive - they are different dimensions that complement each other and better express who you really are.

I was back up at Garden City shopping centre again today to do some bits and pieces and I found it interesting to watch people. I've done all my Christmas shopping so I don't need to worry about what to get everyone and whether I can find it or not. But the majority of people around me were obviously not in that state of luxury and were rushing around frantically, trying to make sure everything got done.

As I was meandering around the shopping centre watching those around me, I made two observations. The first was that all generations were represented especially noticeable as school has broken up for the summer. Kids, mums, grandparents - all clutching shopping bags, checking things off a mental list. It showed that Christmas is pretty much universal: an excuse to 'focus on the family' and give each other gifts (regardless of the damage it does to the credit rating).

The other thing I observed was slightly more disturbing: you got the general vibe of obligation - that you *have* to buy people presents. I remember as a child that homemade gifts were greatly appreciated, but even back then it was political. If you were making presents for family members, you had to make sure everyone got something of equal care and effort. A few years on, when we believe that our time is better spent doing something in exchange for money so a gift can be something we perceive to be of higher quality, the same rules apply. You have to think very carefully about the politics of gift-giving. God forbid that someone finds out that they don't make it to the recipient's list! With such pressure and such a feeling of obligation to make sure no-one is left out (that is, if you want the friendship to last into the new year), no wonder Christmas can be so stressful.

The typical line you hear when giving a gift: "Oh, you didn't have to!" Oh really? Honestly, it's much more fun to give people something on a random day of the year because you were out and saw something you thought would be just right for them. Christmas is a good excuse for the exchanging of presents, but with the way it turns out, are we really doing something nice for someone or are we doing it because everyone else is and we don't want to play Scrooge?

In case you're wondering, no, I'm not entirely cynical about Christmas presents. I've done my Christmas shopping but have tried to ignore any feeling of obligation. If you missed out, sorry - it's not that I don't like you, I just didn't have a good idea of a gift for you at this point in time and I didn't think hard enough to come up with something. But you never know what surprises the 17th of June or some other random date might hold... ;)

I’ve been in Perth for 5 days now and I’ve got nothing to show for it. Nada! Usually this would bug me because being productive (in some form or another) is so important to me, but I see this time of year as my well deserved ‘annual leave’. In many ways I feel lazy – just look at the state of my bedroom, and that I haven’t done any Dutch for so long – but something in the back of my head is telling me to enjoy it while I can.

Next year is going to be pretty full on. Not much in the way of breaks, so I’m going to have to be switched on for the whole year. Much less opportunity to do brain-hanging-out things such as watching a full season of Veronica Mars (the latest show I’m hooked on!) or Smallville. I’m usually so driven to achieve that holidays have to include *nothing* or else it’s not a holiday. An overseas trip isn’t a holiday for me – it’s a trip, and I try to squeeze as much in as possible.

My mental and verbal reasoning capacity is being affected negatively by this break. But we all need to give it a rest once in a while. Bear with my random blog posts until I get it together again!

I haven't blogged in a few days - in fact I haven't done much of anything in a few days. I arrived back in Perth for Christmas on Tuesday (it's now Saturday) and I've been a full-time slackass all week. It's been pretty good actually - just what I needed.

Being in Perth has made me realise a couple of things. When asked whether I prefer Sydney or Perth, I'm never able to answer. I get the same question when asked to compare the UK and Australia. Actually, the only people who ask that question are people who have only ever lived in one place/culture in their life. When you've never lived elsewhere, a place can be simply better or simply worse. Every place has something going for it and no place is perfect. Take Sydney for example: you feel like you get a lot done there because everyone is moving at a faster pace. (This is compared to Perth - many non-Aussies find Sydney slow!) But everything is so built up and the roads feel disorganised and cramped. Driving south of the river in Perth however, there is traffic but you feel like you have space to breathe. Sort of opposite but neither is a bad thing.

Yesterday, I was up at Garden City shopping centre and experienced what I would say is the worst of both worlds. In Sydney, there are much more people, but most people are moving pretty fast. Even in a shopping centre - it may be crowded but people want to get in and get out. In Perth, there are generally fewer people and those people move slower (not in as much of a hurry). Christmas shopping the week before Christmas - the worst of both worlds. Lots of people, moving slowly! I like to put my head down and walk quickly - people who walk slowly frustrate me so much! And in the middle of Christmas shopping, ladies with trolleys stopping in aisles too narrow as it is to have a good catch up with their friends. I'd much rather do my Christmas shopping in Sydney (from a time-efficiency point of view anyway!).

A post with this title is the kind of thing you might expect in two or three weeks time, but I'm getting onto things early. I haven't decided if and what my resolutions will be, but the chances of actually sticking to anything are so low (so it seems) that I'm not going to make any rash decisions.

I'm thinking about this now because we had our anointing service at church tonight, and everyone was prayed for regarding their 2006. I'd never really thought about that before coming to Hillsong, but I really like the idea. It really reinforces the idea that our sights for the future are set at a higher level than what we are already, and we're acknowledging that we can't do it in our own strength.

I want 2006 to be a great year. Not that 2005 was bad, but it's like the last two years have set me up for something so much greater than myself that I can't begin to comprehend. I'm excited for who I'm going to become next year, much more than what I end up doing. Any resolution that I make for the new year is going to be so much more about personal development than setting a goal to achieve. So I still have a few weeks to think about it - I have some ideas, but I want to do something manageable that I can commit to; and something specific (as opposed to the generic ones like 'get fit' or 'eat more healthy'). We shall see...

The other day I got a new keyring for my keys. I'm not the kind of person that collects keyrings, and I don't usually carry many keys either. My pockets are usually so full that I don't need any more junk to carry around with me. But I got a new keyring... of the flag of the Netherlands.

For reasons that I can't explain, I have a fascination with Holland that borders on obsession. I mean, this time a year ago, I wasn't too bothered about Holland. (In fact I was telling myself I *wouldn't* learn Dutch, but that's another story...) Then I started learning a bit of Dutch because of future church plans for Europe...

And now? I can't say for sure that I am called to Holland, but I can't get my mind away from the place. It makes very little sense: I've only ever been there once (for all of one day!), hardly saw anything, know a few people and yet... It seems irrational to me - even all the little reasons put together don't make a compelling enough argument for why I'm so interested in this country. But rationality aside, I keep going... I continue to work through my Dutch language resources, Marco Borsato is about all I listen to some days (even in my sleep!), I get the RTL Dutch news delivered to my inbox every weekday (headlines only, and even then I don't understand much), it's why the sidebar of this blog is currently on the Dutch language setting!

This post has no conclusion. It's an exploration of my own eccentricity, which as crazy as it is must have some reason that I don't understand or know yet.

Tot later!

Our Aussie money is weird and cool at the same time. I was looking at it today at work (cos that's my job and everything) and thinking how I so couldn't be a checkout chick in any other country.

Our money is cool because:
1) it's made of plastic so you can put it through the wash and not lose your life savings
2) it's colour coded so it's easier to check you haven't been short-changed by a rogue checkout attendant

It's kinda frustrating because:
1) it looks like Monopoly money - bright colours!
2) once it's bent/curled/crumpled, it's a nightmare to get it to lie flat again

American money is confusing cos it's all black and green and the same size. British money is classy - I especially love the silver security strip. What other money do I know? Euros are more like Aussie money - works well... It's all money though - it buys stuff whatever the currency, whatever the country. Anyone wanna give me some? :)

I just got back from the movies, watching Elizabethtown. I'd never heard of the movie before today, and I went into it not knowing a thing about it. I only went because some friends wanted to go to the movies and Harry Potter was sold out! The first half hour of the movie, I didn't like it - it didn't connect with me. I had no idea what was going on and where this thing was heading.

The movie opens with the failure of a guy called Drew - I still don't know what the failure was but it cost the company big-time! In the middle of a suicide attempt, his sister calls to tell him that his dad has died. His job as eldest son is to take care of all the proceedings. This involves going to his father's hometown (which happens to be called Elizabethtown) where his dad is loved. On the plane there, he's one of the only passengers and can't escape from an annoyingly random attendant called Claire. They wind up on the phone the next night talking all night. Story-wise, this wasn't doing much for me. Just didn't interest me. Until I realised that it was about a journey... And from that realisation, everything clicked into place...

=> Read more!

After graduation, there seems to be one thought on every student's mind - GET OUT OF SYDNEY! Within a week (but especially in the first day or two, which includes today), there seems to be a mass exodus of college students away from Australia. I heard it on particularly good authority that a particular United flight from Sydney to LA had an unusual concentration of Hillsong students...

I can certainly appreciate the reasons for wanting to leave so quickly - I've had the opportunity to go back to Perth twice already this year. For many, this is the only opportunity in the year and they want to maximise the time back with family and friends. Plus there's not so much for students to do once the school year is over (although I'm sure church would happily find something!)... But I do feel kind of deserted. The feeling is mostly unfounded because I'm heading back to Perth in a couple of weeks myself (albeit for a much shorter time than most), but you do feel like everyone is leaving you (some for good, some just temporarily).

Being at an international college has so many advantages and I love it, but this is one time of year that I could do without - the time when everyone goes back to where they came from. It reminds you how much of a transient environment this is, and how much it takes it out of you to stay put when many others move on. Not for the faint hearted!

I was going to wait until tomorrow to write this, but the fact that I'm running on next to no energy is quite relevant. I've had enough to eat, I've had enough sleep; I'm just feeling drained...

I am an introvert. Being around people drains me, and I have to go off on my own to recharge. Don't get me wrong, relationship and human contact is extremely important and I was go crazy without it, but I can only handle so much before it starts to wear me down. This is actually something I struggle to understand about myself because I want to be effective in a pastoral-type role.

Tonight was our graduation dinner, where they squeeze all the students and lots of church/college staff into a function centre and we all dress up... As one friend so aptly put it, it's just the opportunity for "one big photo session" - you feel like you're under a strobe light, there are so many cameras flashing around you.

The first couple of hours were fine - you walk around making the rounds and chatting to people; but that's when it started to get to me. Don't know if it was claustrophobia or people-phobia or what, but my anxiety levels started to soar. The tables were tightly packed and there were people everywhere, making moving around difficult. Part of me wanted to be social and to enjoy the night, but part of me was screaming, "Get out of here - I can't handle it any more."

Is this something that can change in someone? Is it something that can be handled and managed? I have a desire to be more outgoing, but my very nature turns me into a recluse!

Although it may seem that way at first, this post isn't a symptom of lovesickness - my thoughts do not revolve around romance (well... most of the time!). This thought started by me randomly thinking how hard it would be to explain to a computer (or some other artificial intelligence) what love is. A computer can only accept certain pre-programmed 'thoughts' - there are limited parameters that it can accept, and at the end of the day, it all has to come down to ones and zeroes. For something like love that cannot follow a formula, however smart a computer was (let alone the need to have a consciousness!), comprehension of love would be totally outside of its capabilities.

Then (almost randomly) I got thinking about romance, and why God would have created such a powerful relationship between a man and a woman (in most cases!), especially when it'll be done away with one day. The fact that it'll be done away with one day suggests that it points the way to something, right? Well here's what I realised: having romance pre-programmed into us makes intimate relationship within our understanding. God desires relationship with us, but how would we ever be able to comprehend what that would be like if we didn't have it in our nature to build and maintain relationships here on earth? It would be as unimaginable as love is to a computer.

I sometimes used to struggle with the fact that romantic love will be done away with in heaven. How can something that seems so good and that I am drawn towards so much be abolished in the place of perfection? I've known in my head that Jesus and the Church are like the bride and groom, but I never let that come together with the above mentioned thought. Romantic love is a shadow, a mere reflection of the real thing. It's to whet our appetite for the eternal, intimate relationship with our Creator that awaits us in heaven. If I think romantic love is the ultimate goal, I'm missing the point. It's just a taste of what we were really created for! Imagine that - the perfect lover forever! Gazing into each other's eyes for eternity (literally!!), enthralled by what we see, nothing holding us back. No secrets, no interruptions... Perfect love.

God created romance to awaken something in us for Him, but to make us dissatisfied with the limitations on what we had - to make us look forward to the day when that longing inside of us can well and truly be fulfilled.

A lot of the time in life, I find myself doing mundane activities. Like tonight for instance: stocktake (inventory) at work. Pretty much every employee was in, counting how many of every single product we currently have in the store. Remember that this is a supermarket: a HUGE undertaking! I couldn't help but thinking as I counted 63 Freddo frog chocolates in a box about how frustratingly mundane this task was. Why were we doing it? To work out how much stock we had lost one way or another over the last 6 months so our reporting and records would be right. Hardly something for the common pleb to get excited about!

But then I my mind flashed over to the ministry stuff I do in the week for college. I'm helping in the Publishing department with a minor task in the area of Translations, catching up on a backlog of admin work. Objectively, this task is just as mundane as counting items on a supermarket shelf. (As it happens, I have a hugely long list which I check off those things we do have contracts for... In the end, we'll chase up the missing contracts, but I'm not at that fun bit yet.) But I love what I get to do, and look forward to coming in every week to get a little bit further down the list.

What's the difference? Maybe it's in the fact that I care! Translations is an area that I want to see flourish and sow into, whatever that takes. I can see how my contribution makes this department function better. Coles on the other hand - it's not that I don't care how the company does, but I feel so far removed from that outcome and that my input bears such little significance that I can't see past the inane task. It's just a job to get done while I'm at work - it doesn't have a personal revelation of the corporate vision attached to it.

Conclusion? Vision makes the mundane not only bearable, but motivates you to throw yourself into it and you end up enjoying it!

I noticed again today that the price of Coke has gone up again. My benchmark is the 600ml bottles that are sold chilled from Coles. When I started working for Coles 6 years ago (depressing, I know), these bottles were $1.78. Now they are $2.68. That's a 50% increase. Assuming a yearly inflation of 5%, there should only be a 34% increase (compounding factored in). That's kinda expensive don't you think? Oh well - more motivation to buy orange juice on my breaks at work.

It started today: that which I had dreaded came to pass... The piped Christmas carols started at Coles. One of the main reasons I hate working in retail over Christmas is that the shopping centre thinks it might be nice to create some Christmassy atmosphere but putting a dodgy CD on loop. I nearly cracked up today when I heard Little Drummer Boy sung opera style. I'll be crying by Christmas Eve though (well, December 10th is my last shift before Christmas).

One interesting observation, still on the subject of Coles. There's a nativity scene at NorWest this year. Last year there was some hideous Santa + reindeer abomination, but this year they are taking the religious route... I wonder if Hillsong's influence have anything to do with it?

Think about it... yeah, it just could be...

Thought thanks to House. :)

Summer in Australia would just not be complete without it, but I could handle an incomplete summer any day! It's like having invisible people attacking you with spitwads (mostly dry) without letting up... Flies drive me crazy, especially when you think you've escaped them by going inside. But walking anywhere outside, you may as well be a fresh, steaming pile of ____ the way they orbit your head, occasionally deciding that being a meteorite is more fun than being a satellite! :)

Apparantly, waving your arm up and down in front of your face (like a windscreen wiper) is called the Australian wave. Funny hats with dangling corks that NO-ONE in Australia actually wears make sense all of a sudden - the corks save your hands a lot of work. My idea (which I share with anyone unfortunate enough to be around me and flies at the same time) is to make a headband (like a bandana I guess) of sticky fly paper. It would do the job, but it would be pretty sickening to walk around with increasing numbers of fly-carcasses glued to your head by your own choice!

So I wave my hands around and the flies just smile and come back three seconds later (cos their attention span doesn't last much longer than that - I'm a new, interesting person to prey upon every three seconds!). You can try to catch them, but mosquitoes are easier... I caught one in my hand today - I was most impressed with myself! :)

Coffee... what would my life be without it! By the way, the subject has very little to do with this post (NL: 'this is too good to be true') - I just felt like using the phrase somewhere! Yes, this post is about coffee, that which fuels my day!

Last year, I found myself drinking an alarming amount and so this year, I've limited myself to two cups a day. Which I stick to most of the time. But it's hard when you have both cups before 8am (happens quite often!). I know that it's an addiction, but contrary to popular belief, I can survive without it. Last week, I decided to go a whole week without coffee. And it wasn't torture, honest!

The funny thing is that I used to *hate* coffee. Maybe something to do with having boiling coffee spilt on me TWICE when I was younger, but I just didn't like the taste. In year 12 at high school, I came to the realisation that I was going to uni the following year and of the two main social drinks (coffee and beer), I liked neither. So I decided to force myself to like one of them, and I went with coffee.

A wise Mexican regularly tells me that coffee is a drug, and it's like 'liquid cigarettes' - that it's really bad for you and all that jazz. But I don't feel convicted enough to give it up, like many other unhealthy things in my diet. (That may change however - I want to do some looking into nutrition and a healthy diet...)

Why do I like it so much? Having a hot cup of coffee is very relaxing, and forces you to take time out. Yeah, it has sugar and caffeine in it, but you get more of both of those in a can of Coke. There's something about a hot drink even in the middle of summer that forces you to slow down a bit and take it easy. The other reason is that it's such a social drink. When I'm having a chat with someone, it's great while I have coffee in my hands, but when the coffee runs out, my hands start to fidget. (No, not withdrawal symptoms!) It's like having that hot drink increases my capacity to give time to people (hehe, great excuse I know!), and when it runs out, I start to panic.

Last note: heaven for me will be Gloria Jean's and Krispy Kreme donuts - interesting that they're right beside each other at Castle Towers shopping centre. Does that mean that Castle Towers = heaven???

In case you're wondering from the last couple of posts, life isn't all serious introspection, doom and gloom. Although I have thoughts for a post in that vein later on, this is just a bit of a random aside - English grammar.

The other day in Hebrews, Duncan (lecturer) was commenting about how we need to know about the grammar of our own language to understand that of another. Under the impression that no-one ever enjoys learning grammar, he asked who enjoyed it. I think I was the only one who meant it! I seriously enjoy grammar!

I'm reading an awesome book at the moment - another by Bill Bryson called 'The Mother Tongue: English And How It Got That Way'. Many people would find this really boring, despite being written in a very non-academic, interesting way. But I love it! The way that language encodes thought in order to transmit it fascinates me, and while other languages are great, I can fully appreciate it with English, my mother tongue.

I was going to very nicely argue a grammatical problem he raises in the book until I proved myself wrong. But the very exercise of coming to that conclusion was an enjoyable one! Yeah, I know, I'm weird!

I've been thinking over the last couple of days about the concept of dwelling upon something in your thoughts, and the effect that can have on you. It goes without saying that when you dwell on something negative, it's going to have a considerable effect on you - your attitude towards life and everything else will spiral downwards, things that you otherwise enjoy will lose their appeal, the thought consumes you so much that you can't think straight about anything else.

I've been realising that dwelling on a positive thing too much can be just as problematic, and a harder cycle to break out of. Most people value positivity more than negativity, so when someone is being negative it's usually reasonable to tell someone to snap out of it. When someone is focussing on something positive, we don't usually see that as a bad thing. But too much of a good thing is a bad thing!

The thing to be aware of here is imbalance - we can get so obsessed with a single thought or concept that it pushes everything else aside. While the content of the thought may be great, such a narrow focus can be very damaging. Imagine a piece of paper in a sunny room - the sun illuminates the entire page. But what if you decide you want to make a particular part of the paper stand out. You can take a magnifying glass and intensify the light on one particular area. The danger is that the greater the focus of the sun's energy, the greater the likelihood of that spot catching fire. And once the fire starts, it can very quickly affect the rest of the paper, consuming everything!

Let's put it in the world that we can see: most healthy adults (not that I necessarily claim to be one!) have to focus on many things: work, family, recreation, friends... Imagine if you focussed on your friends so much that your family never saw you and you never went to work. Nothing wrong with friends by any means, but your life has to include your family and work as well. Neglecting other areas to focus on one will cause problems in those areas, of course; but those problems will in turn cause problems in the focus area. Not going to work will eventually give you nothing to life by, and so you'll either become a leech off friends or you just won't be able to do anything with them anymore.

Now let's pull this into the field of relationships, because that's what got me thinking about this concept of the negativity of dwelling on something. Some people just catch your eye - something they say or do makes them stand out in your perception. You can go and encourage them about that and it will usually be received well. However, if you dwell on that thought, what then? You can keep going up to them and commenting on the same thing, which will get tired after a while; you can end up idolising them; you can end up comparing yourself to them... But you reason with yourself, "This is a good thing - this person is awesome! What's wrong with recognising that?" The problem is not in the recognition, it's in the perpetuation. The more you stick on one thought, the more you limit yourself to fresh ones, and they grow stagnant quickly. Both the neglected thoughts and the focussed thoughts can be your downfall, often a combination of both. We need balance - extremes are always dangerous.

Sometimes I wonder who actually reads this blog, but that question aside, I continue to write to give the world a little insight into my world.

The last couple of days have been really full-on! I was going pretty well with things, getting almost comfortable (read: complacent) and things got all shaken up. Must keep details off the blog because it involves others, not just myself; but a situation came to conclusion which revealed a whole bunch of issues which I had been trying to ignore. Upon further reflection, a whole lot of side issues began to tie into it, to the point where all the issues I'm aware of in my life make some sort of retarded sense together. It was all stuff I was very slowly working through, but the last 36 hours have suddenly accelerated that process, propelling me into the, "what are you going to do about it?" stage.

I usually beat myself up on this kind of thing because I think I'm supposed to be strong, but not this time. I'm just determined to do whatever it takes to overcome it, including outside help if need be. These things have held me down for too long and enough is enough.

Two thoughts come to mind: you only go to a doctor when you think/know you're sick - being aware of this is a GOOD thing! And you only change when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change itself.

Hillsong Men's Conference this weekend has also contributed to my motivation of getting through this - great conference! If you're male and you weren't there, you missed out!

Maybe it’s just me, but when you’re a perfectionist, you always focus on how much you didn’t reach perfection. Perfectionism usually equals pessimism (is that auto-pessimism?? I don’t know… I never know… :) ). So while I know (and am becoming more confident in) those things I am good at, I wanted to reflect those things I’m not good at.

The first big one is cooking. Admittedly, the fact that I’ve been feeding myself for nearly two years now is a testament to at least some ability to construct a program of sufficient nutritious benefit. I just don’t enjoy it, and my creativity seems very limited. I usually stick to the same repertoire of meals every week with little variation in the programme. Cooking for one sucks anyway, but even when you prepare for more than one day, it just feels so time consuming that I can’t be bothered making the effort. Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate good food when other people make it; but having to go through the process of making it when shortcuts exist… Well, you can see that I don’t have the patience or value good food enough above ‘something quick’ to make it worth my while!

The other big one is clothing. I’m definitely not the most fashionable person out there, and while I care a little about my appearance, most things in the fashion world just seem like a lot of fuss about nothing. I should take more care and interest in presenting myself well, but unless there’s a particular occasion that requires it, it seems like too much effort! I don’t like going shopping for clothes because I never know what to buy and what will or will not look good on me. Some laugh at the fact that I usually go clothes shopping with my mum (when I’m back in Perth) – apart from the fact that she still usually ends up paying (which I can’t complain about), going with her actually makes me buy stuff! Otherwise, I would wear what I have already until it falls off me!

Am I beyond hope? The key issue with both of these is that I don’t know the basics, and don’t know where to start learning. Both go into the ‘too hard’ basket, and so rather than worrying about it, I just don’t care. It becomes a vicious circle. If anyone wants to volunteer to guide me through the basics of either, bearing in mind that you’ll have to be very patient and spend a long time with me on it, that would be great! :)

I was walking through the bakery section at work today and some mince pies caught my eye. I've seen them before (this year) but my response was, "Oooh, I want some..." They're one of the best bits (culinary speaking) of Christmas in my opinion. But that made me realise that Coles is indeed getting geared up for Christmas. Why not? It's only 2 months away! Why does it always creep up on you like that?

I'm going back to Perth for Christmas (if work will allow it) - the most inviting part about that whole plan is the concept of doing *nothing*. Why is that? Apart from friends, I have no life in Perth - no college, work, church responsibilities, not even a car! So if nothing else, Christmas will force me to relax! And it's not that far away now...

I still have a hankering for mince pies, but soup was all I could manage from the cupboard. Oh well... two months and counting!

My mind is overloaded and I'm not motivated enough to do anything of consequence. I have an essay on the theology of Hebrews to do and I can't get my mind to settle down and do it. So I'm falling into old habits of procrastination. But I did just do something semi-theraputic which I sometimes do when I need to give my mind a rest...

There's a little park/reserve around the corner from me with a couple of benches. Taking a wander down there and lying back on a bench looking at the sky and letting my mind settle down and go where it wants can sometimes be just what I need. I'm usually worried that I'll fall asleep though - how much would it suck to wake up 6 hours later minus wallet & keys, not to mention extremely disorientated as you ask yourself, "How the heck did I get here."

On that note, I will continue the procrastination and do my grocery shopping down at Coles. I'll keep telling myself that the essay will start as soon as I get back and have had something to eat.

The MP3 player of tomorrow, constructed in such a way that I am prevented from owning one...

http://www.podcastingnews.com/archives/2005/10/the_future_of_m_1.html

Yes, someone's come up with the idea of an MP3 player built into a breast implant. What will they think of next?

(FYI, I was researching podcasting when I came across this - not the kind of thing I'd think to look for!)

For those familiar with bible colleges/seminaries/Christian schools, a frequent common denominator is the concept of 'chapel' - a kind of a church service towards the beginning of the day. Hillsong College is no different, but as you can expect, it's very much Hillsong-style! Our chapel services are loud and vibrant and full of life, and a phenomenal way to start the day! Put it this way - we had to move it to a different building for Tuesday mornings because we were seriously disturbing the staff meeting going on downstairs in the same building!

Today was the first time I'd been to chapel in 2½ weeks because of my Europe trip, which is quite a big deal cos I'm usually there 3 times a week, early every morning for TV stuff... But it really hit me this morning how much I love it! In my first year here, I so took it for granted, and was known on occasion to sleep in and not go at all. Because of my role in TV this year (I oversee making it happen for chapel!), that hasn't been an option for me, although I'm usually out the back in the TV control room. But the times I do get to venture out and be a part of what's happening, I'm overwhelmed by the privilege to start my day with something so great. We're meeting together to set the focus for the day, and do stuff that will set us up for great lives, let alone great days. If and when I start third year or leave here (one must happen between the end of this year and the beginning of next), I'll no longer have that input three times a week, and I'm so going to miss it.

This morning, just as a random example, was awesome: the band facilitated worship in such a way that we were free to connect with God however we wanted, and that is so often underrated. The preaching was a tag-team of three awesome Swiss guys whose combined message really brought something to my understanding of what's going on in my life at the moment. And we finished quite randomly on a song which went a cappella for most of it. This honestly blew me away: no-one singing into a microphone, but you could hear a two, maybe even three part harmony coming from the congregation! That's what heaven will be like: no need for instruments and the like to lead us - everyone will be singing together in harmony, loud enough to drown out any instruments!

For everyone else that makes chapel happen, I love you all and I love what we make together. For other students, do you love it? If you don't, you'll realise how much you miss it when it's not a part of your life anymore. And for everyone else, it's one of those things you've just gotta see for yourself!

Does everyone else hang out their laundry at 11pm, or am I just weird?

Of course, a dryer might make things slightly simpler, but we don't have one of those...

Have you ever been striving for change so hard that you didn't recognise it when it came? I was pondering life today (on my checkout of course) and got a strange feeling... Like God is up to something (in me!) and I don't know what it is! But why should I be surprised? It's what I've been asking Him to do of course, and I've been trying hard enough on my own...

I feel like a cocoon in some ways... A cocoon is usually pretty inanimate upon outward appearance, and I hope I'm not looking too inanimate to you; but the point is that amazing things are happening under the surface that you can't observe from the outside. It's like a paradoxical scenario of standing still yet moving at the same time.

The odd thing is that usually, you're pretty clued in with what's happening on the inside of you, even if the rest of the world doesn't see it (hence the justification for much modern art!). But I'm not! I don't know what's changing, I don't see how I'm changing... But I am seeing changes in how I view other people, one of the only indicators (apart from feeling slightly unbalanced).

So that is me at the moment - who knows what kind of person I'm becoming? Let's hope it's a better one in at least one respect, if not many! :)

I was thinking today about respect and leadership, and how important it is. Whatever sphere of life you're in (work, church, family, social), there's very often someone who's the leader, and whether they're self-appointed or have been put in place by someone else, that carries a certain level of authority. The concept of respect is key to how you relate to them.

Take the boss at work for example. You have to do what they say because they're the boss. If you respect them, you're much more likely to have a good relationship with them and have less tension between you. When you don't respect them, well, the reasons you don't respect them lead to all sorts of tensions and not-so-good relationship. To a certain degree, it's our responsibility to choose to respect those in authority above us; but I also believe those in authority should act in such a way that is worthy of that respect.

How does a leader earn your respect? It may be by the kind of lifestyle they pursue - one that encourages you and inspires you. It may be the way they try to include you and treat your input as important and significant. Someone who doesn't treat their position as an end itself, but a means to do something that is in your best interests. It's easy to say, "I respect such-and-such," (how often do we say, "I respect your opinion BUT..."??) but does it come hand-in-hand with honouring someone, giving weight to that person's choices and decisions, actually paying attention to what they have to say. You can also respect someone from a distance, based upon what you see of their values, choices, priorities, and personal integrity.

For me at church, there are many leaders that I respect because I know that they are doing something that is in the best interests of the people that make up the church, including myself. But there are a couple I find it really hard to respect, even though I should, because they claim to be in authority over me but don't show very much interest in what's going on in my life. It seems to be more about the position, and where that position can take them, rather than actually focussing upon why that position might be there in the first place. This is a lesson of leadership that I'm learning first-hand what NOT to do!

I have finally folded under the pressure from my peers to start a Myspace page. Now the page is up there, I don't intend on doing very much with it - I'm certainly going to keep blogging here. But if you're an avid Myspace user, my page is:

http://www.myspace.com/clafhn

Happy guys? :)

As much as I have mourned discipline (or lack of) in previous posts, there is definitely a part of me that longs to be random and spontaneous. Some people seem to have that frustrating capacity to get everything done yet go with the flow and do whatever comes up. Maybe it's just that most of my activities (such as work) are inflexible and prevent me from being truly free to do whatever. I can't imagine my life any other way, because when I don't have things in concrete, I feel out of control and I feel like I'm unable to produce anything (i.e. be productive). Plus it seems to fly in the face of discipline by any definition just to wait and see what comes up.

One thing I do enjoy though which I've picked up off an inspiring achieving-yet-random friend - sitting in Gloria Jeans for an hour or so just watching the world go by and chatting with whoever walks by. It doesn't happen often, but the opportunity to do so every once in a while is like oxygen to the soul.

Is it just me or is it really boring looking at someone else's holiday pictures? I haven't been subjected to this for a while, but having just been away, people are asking me to see my holiday pictures. I'm flattered that people are taking an interest in my life, but holiday pictures are memories of something you did, of people you met... Unless each picture has a story behind it, it's just another landscape, another second cousin thrice removed, another random city street.

Maybe I'm just being cynical - I just get bored looking at pictures that I have virtually no connection to.

Had a lightbulb moment today: I've been getting frustrated with my lack of discipline recently - the beginning of this week was very unstructured and I determined to do something about it. In effect, nothing I haven't tried before. But I went for a walk this morning and had a revelation about discipline:

Discipline equals focus. The more disciplined you are, the more focussed on something you are. Those without discipline are all over the place, not really concentrating their energies upon anything. In contrast, those in the military have to be very focussed on the task at hand and their required discipline is a necessity to maintain that focus. I look at some people I know, and while they may be passionate about a particular thing, lack of discipline means other things steal their attention and they're not able to be as single minded. Maybe the reason I find it so hard to be disciplined is that I have so many different areas that I'm interested in. For this, it's important to be clear on your priorities: when one 'focus area' challenges another, you know which you should give the attention to.

So discipline isn't being ridiculously organised: it's knowing what area you're specialising in this season of life and letting your life reflect that. So that's much easier than just mindless organisation - it has direction, and when done right just flows out of a live driven by purpose.

I was thinking today about a particular Dutch word that we don't have an equivalent for in English: fietsen. It means to ride a bike, not surprising really that the Dutch have an easy word for it. But English requires a construction - you can't really say 'I bike to school', although some might try it - you need to say 'I ride my bike to school'.

Interestingly enough, there is a possible word that can be used: 'to cycle'. And that's what inspired this post - the fact that although you should be able to use this word, we don't! I remember at high school in Perth, fresh from the UK (accent and all), I took to using my bicycle as a form of transport to and from school. Although I don't remember using the word 'cycle' before that, I distinctly remember being laughed at for such archaism, and even being pulled aside by a friend and being quietly advised not to use the word 'cycle'. Was it offensive? I think not - it's just a word that no-one uses anymore. Any idea why? It's so much more economical than 'ride my bike', and you can't just use 'ride' because that could include equestrian forms of transport. I think from now on I'll just use fietsen - it's easier!

It's a funny thing - travelling to the UK, I didn't really suffer from jetlag at all - a miracle in itself. But at the other end of the trip, my body clock is doing some weird things. My first night back, I slept in three four-hour chunks, punctuated by hour-long pauses. Last night, I slept in two six-hour chunks (which included much of the day!!). Now I'm still wide-awake at 1am...

But being awake at such times makes certain things permissible that might be be so otherwise... For instance, whoever was supposed to put the bins out in our house last week forgot, so when I arrived home, they were overflowing. Bins are picked up on Wednesday, and I was faced with the dilemma of having too many bags of trash for the bin-to-be-collected. But being this time of the night, I was able to take a wander up the street and find to my delight that other, less wasteful, residents had space in their bins. So unknowingly, four kind neighbours are helping me to make up for the neglect of one housemate. :)

Totally unrelated: finally got to watch the first two episodes of the new season of Smallville last night (with a full living room of other such die-hard fans)... How can I wait a whole week between episodes?? This is going to be torture! I watched the original Superman movie today - kinda cheesy in all respects. I like Smallville so much more! But it explained a couple of things in the new episodes that I didn't understand...

Back in Sydney, the whirlwind trip feels like a very vivid dream, but almost like it didn't really happen. All that seems to confirm it is that I'm mildly suffering the effects of jet lag - I was really tired and got to bed early, but only slept for 4 hours and am now awake in the middle of the night!

After Holland, we flew to London (Gatwick), picked up a hire car and drove down to Yeovil to see Rachel - a 3 hour drive west - and arrived late at night. She had to work the next day so we didn't see so much of her, but it was still good to see her. Friday: did all my grocery shopping in the UK - Marmite, Jelly Babies, Lion Bars, all the good stuff you can't get in Australia! And then we drove up to Heathrow...

I can now say that I've driven in roadworks on the M25 (London orbital motorway) in Friday afternoon peak hour traffic. It took an hour to get 6 miles! But we arrived at Heathrow just at the right time to meet up with the rest of the family. They were all flying from Terminal 3, I was flying from Terminal 4, and they're quite far apart (you need to allow 20 minutes to transfer, walking and getting a train). Now I don't want this blog to focus any more on how much airports can suck, but Heathrow was not a great last impression of the UK! I had to wait in the check-in queue for an hour and 5 minutes, and got to meet up with the family again for another 20 minutes over at T3. Security checkpoints were running even slower than usual, so by the time I got through there, I had to run straight to the gate. I'm switching my frequent flyer membership to KLM or someone so I can fly through Schipol - anything BUT Heathrow!

The flight back could have been better - I was stuck in the middle of a row of three all the way to Sydney, and I'm sure the seats were narrower on the BA flight than on regular Qantas flights. I must have slept quite a bit, cos I don't remember the flight being too long...

Now, the reason this post is called 'massage'... Everyone likes back massages, and I've always been enamoured by getting a professional one done. The only thing that I've kinda worried about is how you find a reputable massage parlour or masseur (masseuse) - it would be all too easy to accidentally find oneself in the middle of a brothel, and I so don't need that! So, I was going through Bangkok airport and decided to change some currency to while away my 2 hour layover, and there were a couple of massage parlours there that were very open and innocent-looking. This was after all the transit lounge of an international airport - not the most likely place to find a brothel! My backpack had been heavy and my back was sore, so I decided to go for it. The whole theme of this place was "revitalising", and so they put you on an oxygen respirator while they worked your back. I only went with the 10 minute back massage, but honestly, it felt *so* good afterwards, and made me appreciate the second half of my flight much more than I might have done so otherwise. Such a good idea for an airport!

And then back to Sydney... Where the passport queue for Australian passports moved faster than the queue for 'others' - what's with that? I was glad to put Sydney International behind me. I got back to my house, and almost immediately, the whole thing felt like it could have never actually happened. Thanks to espresso shots, I stayed awake for the rest of the day, and it's only now that I'm being slightly affected by jet lag. But I'll get over it sooner or later.

And thus concludes my European chronicle for 2005 - I wonder when I'll go back next - I really don't know!

Well, I can finally say that I've been to Holland! It wasn't for very long, but I really enjoyed my time there. We arrived in at 's Hertogenbosch, wandered around there (we got there after most things closed unfortunately) stayed overnight, and then the next morning went into Amsterdam with a native guide (thanks Jozine - you're awesome!). Amsterdam was a lot more touristy than Den Bosch, so my reflections are more on Den Bosch.

I had read about the bikes, but I didn't realise to what extent they were used. I didn't see any windmills or tulip farms, but bikes *everywhere*! Most of the main roads in Den Bosch had bike paths, something I haven't seen elsewhere; and those on bikes hugely outnumbered those on foot. The funniest sight was seeing policemen going around on bikes; and a lady being accosted by Mormons, wearing the typical suit and name badge, also on bikes!

To my shame, about the only Dutch I really used was, 'kan ik in het Engels spreken' (can I speak in English), to which the response was always 'natuurlijk!' (of course!). I knew the Dutch were good at other languages, especially English, but I was taken aback at the fact that the 15 year old serving at Burger King was fluent. I tried struggling through my order in Dutch, which I could do, but I couldn't understand her reply. In the end, I had to resort to, 'ik begrijp u niet' (I don't understand you), and she said, 'Engels? Why didn't you say so?!' But rather than discourage me from learning Dutch, this for some strange reason has inspired me even further! Something about not wanting to be an arrogant English speaker who expects everyone else to speak my language!

Holland is supposedly the third most densely populated country in the world, but you wouldn't have guessed it... There seems to be plenty of wide open spaces between cities. The suburbs of Den Bosch were kind of interesting: there were many appartment blocks that were maybe 4 storeys high, but there was a considerable amount of space between them - it didn't feel too cramped at all.

I really liked Holland - it had a much nicer feel to it than Paris; but then again I didn't go out of the city. It's kind of ironic - I don't especially like big cities (I tend to avoid actually going into them when I travel), but that's where I feel I'm heading in the long term.

I'm writing this one on a train from Brussels to Rosendaal (in Holland), part of the trek from Paris to 's Hertogenbosch (also Holland). I'm pretty excited because this is my first trip to the Netherlands, despite learning the language and being fascinated by Dutch culture for the last 7 months. But reflections on Paris...

We walked *so* much - ended up going around tourist attractions (but did some shopping in bookstores and local supermarkets etc.). We could have got the métro around everywhere, but I decided to just start walking in the general direction I knew we were going, and consult the map when I doubted my sense of direction.

I was extremely surprised at how well the métro smelt! One of the biggest things I remember about Paris from 8 years ago was that the métro smelt like a public urinal. Maybe I only passed through more classy areas (we were staying in the 7me arrondissement, quite near the Eiffel Tower), but quite clean. Not designed for passengers with baggage though!

I'd never thought France was such a tolerant, permissive society, and so I was surprised to see many billboards with pictures of topless femmes. Not so much for pornographic literature (can you call it 'literature'??) but on the cover of the equivalent of Women's Weekly, and for breast cancer screening ads. Just struck me as weird.

The other thing that surprised me was the amount of English spoken everywhere. I know that Paris is a tourist destination popular with many international guests, but the Parisians have a reputation for being rude and refusing to speak English, especially until you give it a go in French. It was somewhat frustrating to ask something in French and get a response in English. I expected that in Holland, mais pas à Paris!

Anyway, I'm well and truly in the Netherlands now (just went through Antwerpen) so I'll cover my observations here in another post! Doei!

I've visited many airports in the world and feel compelled to give some sort of review as to which ones I think are good and why. As I once said, I used to have a silly fascination with air travel and the whole airport procedure. As that childish stupour wears off, my patience with airports in turn is diminishing. For the most part, my focus is upon international airports because the process of getting through them is that much longer and so you have much more time for it to make an impression upon you.

=> Read more!

It's 5am (but not according to my body clock) and I'm faced with a dilemma: hot or cold. My whole family are staying in a little B&B connected to a pub somewhere outside Hull for the wedding (the reason we all flew from the ends of the earth to get here!), and I'm sharing a room with my two brothers. I've just woken up and the room is ridiculously hot. Nothing to do with the fact that there are three guys in the room - all of the rooms are like this (something about Europeans overcompensating for their climate). But my alternative is to head outside into the relative freezing surroundings and sit at one of the outside pub tables (which is where this post finds me). I must look very strange: typing on my Palm at a pub table in the middle of the night.

Most of yesterday was spent travelling: after the fun of waiting at Heathrow (my flight was delayed by another 45 minutes!), I rushed through Manchester airport remarkably quickly and got myself on the train. (I have great respect for airports that link themselves in with the rail network: Perth does NOT!) Met up with Ferg at Manchester Piccadily to get the same train across the country to Hull which was very weird and surreal. It would have even stranger if Michael hadn't missed the train in Leeds by 30 seconds - three brothers converging upon Hull at the same time!

Anyway, it's great to be back in the country and to see family again. It's interesting as always to see the interesting family dynamics at work and seeing everyone interacting for yourself. Many people can take this for granted; but this is the first time in 10 years so many of the family (including myself) has got together, and could well be the last (as everybody grows up and goes their separate, busy ways).

The family dinner last night was fun (apart from tensions with the catering staff at the restaurant who struggled to serve everyone in a party of 18) - as the eldest son, it fell to me to propose a toast for the occasion of Mum & Dad's silver wedding anniversary (25 years). I was somewhat apprehensive, but fueled by interesting stories that I'd never heard about my parents given to me by uncles that will remain anonymous, it went really well! Now they're all trying to talk me into doing a reading at the wedding today: who would have thought a career in public speaking would come so easily? :)

Culture-wise, there are some things I love... My uncles laughed at me taking pictures of the local pub, made even funnier to them by the fact that I never go to them (whether in Australia or Britain!). Flying over the country in a plane and through on a train, you realise how different the houses are: so many 2 storey semi-detached houses (duplexes) and terraced houses. Appartment blocks seem to be a hangover from the 70s or something. And how 99.9% of council houses are red brick with white window frames - what's with that??

This has been much more of a journal entry than a blog - sorry if you're the type who finds my life boring but my thoughts interesting! While I'm travelling, this online soapbox seemed to be a good way of keeping everyone up to date with what I was doing, saving me from the evil that is bulk email!

I was just wondering if there was a proper way of dealing with your ears popping when you're coming to the end of a flight and getting ready to land. I know the typical advice is to suck on a sweet (lolly) or to swallow hard, but I'm looking for solutions that *work*. Even though I'm no stranger to flying, I usually resort to sticking my finger in the ear that hurts the most; or grabbing my nose and blowing until it feels like that half of the brain explodes. Both only temporary solutions, both get you sort of strange looks from fellow passengers.

I'm at Heathrow airport at the moment, waiting for the connection to Manchester. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about *everything* (I think my post from Sydney airport could have been slightly more positive!) but this definitely isn't my favourite airport. I'm stuck in Terminal 1 and there's practically nothing to do! I don't have time to rank my favourite airports (well, I do, but this Internet terminal is charging by the minute!), so let me just whinge about Heathrow for a minute. My three complaints right now are:

1. This airport is depressing. It's big and looks like it's too much of a job to take care of properly, so things aren't always as clean or well maintained as they could be. Even better lighting would work wonders. The movie 'Love Actually' made it look a whole lot nicer than it actually is!

2. Nothing to do!

3. No power points - I need to charge up my Palm but I have nowhere to plug in!

Anyway, that's it from here - time has run out! Oh, very proud of myself - my suitcase only weighed 13.7kg! Impressed?

A year ago, I remember hearing from some friends that an international speaker invited to speak at a large Christian event had requested a business class seat to come and do this. Although the organising committee had agreed, there were a number of people who had heard about it (including my friends) who were horrified! That he would demand a ticket costing well over twice as much as the basic economy fare - it was selfish, exploitative, a waste of the church's resources...

=> Read more!

Free Internet at Sydney International Airport - one thing this airport has going for it! I'm waiting in the departure lounge for my flight to Manchester (via Bangkok and London). The thing that has really frustrated me today is how long it's taken to get to this point!

I used to love airports and air travel, not just as a kid but also as a teenager. In fact I really enjoyed it last year! But I'm kinda over it - it just takes so long to get through the system. First there's the process of actually getting to the airport: I usually get the train (but I need to get a bus to the station first!) and so from home to the airport is about 1½ hours. Then there's check-in... I haven't flown international in a while... well, it wasn't that long ago, but I've ended up doing so many domestic flights that I'm used to the domestic setup. I had to stand in the queue to check in for 30-40 minutes! After building up an appetite, getting food and the like, I decided to breeze through immigration and security checks. The immigration queue was another 20-30 minutes, and there were only 3 people on desks (with 22 desks in total!).

So I'm now in the departure lounge, about to board. It's 4 hours since I left home and I'm still not on the plane! Sorry for whinging, but come on - isn't my time worth anything?

After last night's all nighter, I can't wait to get strapped into my seat and sleep my way to Bangkok. I've been looking forward to that all day!

Will try and post as often as I can while I'm in Europe!

The timestamp on the entry is not fake - it is indeed the middle of the night. Partially in a proactive attempt to avoid jetlag at the other end of a trans-planet flight, partially due to poor time management and getting anything done. Yes, the attempt is an all-nighter. I don't know when it officially counts as having stayed up all night (6am??); but I honestly don't think I've done this for a couple of years. (Perth-Sydney redeye flights don't count!)

What has my life become, that routine has locked me out of even the possibility of this? Not that it's always a very wise idea - I'm going to be a wreck in a couple of hours, and will probably fall asleep in class... But that my life has become so inflexible that I can't do something so irresponsible? Even in this case, I'm trying to do it for responsible reasons: so I can hit the ground running when I reach the UK. I don't even know if it'll work or not! Here's trying anyway...

Music is at the core of me - I always have a song running through my head, and even though my musical ability may be dwarfed by others. And for whatever you're going through, there always seems to be song that describes what you feel. We have so many songs about love because humanity is kinda stuck on this theme - it's a subject we want to describe.

But I was thinking today - when you have a song running through your head, how much of that is descriptive and how much is prescriptive.

Let me explain: to describe is to explain the way that something is. It looks at what is there already and tries to articulate it somehow. To prescribe is to dictate how something should be. The words set the course for what should follow.

I've already explored in earlier posts how your emotions can be changed by your patterns of thought, and how you can actually choose your thoughts. Although many would argue that a song is a means of describing what you're feeling, I realised today that whatever song is in your head gives direction to your thought life, and how you feel follows as a result.

For instance, if you're bitter about a past relationship, a song 'describing' a current, hriving relationship won't immediately connect with you. You'll immediately connect with something that supports your current mindset and feeling. But after having anchored itself in your mindset, it will do nothing more than perpetuate your bitterness. Every time you sing that song in your mind, you are speaking words from yourself and into yourself that make this mindset more and more concrete.

Much better would it be to intentionally listen to a song that challenges a negative mindset. Although it may not take root right away, it begins to chip away at your thought processes. A song is amazingly powerful in breaking mindsets because it's memorable: it's so much easier to remember the lyrics to a song than to remember a piece of prose! As you absorb the song, the words become embedded in your mind. The more you give them space to move, the more they change the way you think. That thought that seemed unbreakable starts to crack and eventually gives way to a much more positive way of thinking.

On that note, I think I need to go and write a song to challenge the way I think and feel!

Robert Fergusson shared this awesome illustration in class last week that just came alive to me. It was about mountain-climbing...

When you set out to climb Everest, you don't just start at the bottom and climb to the summit. It is surrounded by other mountains of varying heights - it just happens that Everest is your goal, and that is the highest in the Himalayas. To climb Everest, you have to negotiate many other mountain peaks, going up and down before you can get there.

Life is the same. We may have a particular goal in our sights, but to attain that goal, there are very often other smaller peaks that have to be overcome first. Our journey can be very disheartening in that while we are trying to climb higher and higher, the route we take may find up going down a slope. As we descend into the intermittent valleys, we find that the primary goal is obscured by the many other peaks we have to reach first. With our vision obscured, motivation is dampened. As an added bonus, in the valleys, it's common to find ourselves surrounded by mist that restricts the view even more! Even the next step is uncertain, let alone the final destination! But as we keep going and force ourselves to continue back up the slope on the other side of the valley, we might just catch a glimpse of the ultimate peak when we find ourselves at the next high point. Just enough to keep us going through the next valley.

Life does have its ups and downs, but it's all part of the journey. Don't settle for a lesser peak because the last valley was just too difficult. And don't settle for the valley because there is a slope on the other side. Remember that last glimpse. Even if you don't see it, remember what it looked like and let that spur you on again. Applying this to my own life reminds me that I do have an awesome hope for the future and that remembering that will keep me going through whatever valley I may find myself in today.

People look at me and often comment that I'm very organised. As if using a Palm Pilot to the max wasn't enough, I like having a piece of paper to scribble on, so every day, I print out a 'daysheet' with the to-do list and any other information I know I'll need. (It's a premade template with spaces to write new tasks, French/Dutch words etc..) And I do things bordering on the ridiculous like scheduling what time to get up/go to bed.

But organisation doesn't always go hand in hand with discipline. My organisation is full of good intentions, but it often falls apart. For instance, I was 'scheduled' to go to bed at 11pm tonight. And the time of this post? 1am!

My lack of discipline does go hand in hand with my scatterbrained-ness - I can concentrate on a single task at hand very well, but if that doesn't require my 100% attention, I'm gone! Like tonight, I didn't have much time to make dinner, so I put a frozen meal in the microwave. It should only take 8 minutes max to cook and I can hear the microwave pinger from my room. Which I did. And two hours later, I went downstairs to reheat my dinner again and this time actually consume it.

I could give many examples of how I try to be disciplined (I do succeed on *some* counts!) but get sidetracked... But I'll just embarrass myself! Needless to say, this is an area that I really need to develop in my life.

Maybe I should transfer from Bible college to military boot camp?

Last night, I was subjected to a very humbling experience, although one I nevertheless enjoyed: a Dutch party (yes, here in Australia). I went into it fully expecting to be a fly-on-the-wall, understanding very little and just listening intently to very fast dialogue (there’s a good reason they call it ‘double-Dutch’!) Well yes, it was exactly as expected, and that’s why humbling…

As English speakers in an English-speaking nation, we take it for granted that everyone speaks the language fluently. When you start learning another language, you realise just how complicated this thing actually is, that you’ve taken for granted your whole life. When you tell an English speaker that you’re learning another language, they’re usually impressed (even if only a little) that you’re committing to doing so – they may have had some years of a language at school and have a taste of the process. And so from this, it has the potential to boost your ego. However, being around native speakers of the language you’re learning, you don’t expect to impress or even receive sympathy for your struggles. Not because they’re mean and nasty people, but because they’ve done what you’re doing, and it’s not a big deal. And so such gatherings as the Dutch gathering are greatly humbling because it’s a continual revelation of how much you don’t know! Yet you don’t want to ask for English communication because that defeats the whole purpose!

Another reason why it’s humbling is because you look at how much you’re working your butt off to remember particular words (which you don’t even recognise in normal discourse!) and then you find yourself understanding very little. A pessimist may find the process of learning another language futile for this very reason. Even an optimist would ask, ‘why are you putting so much effort and energy into learning this?’ Many friends hear of my endeavour, process the enormity of the task, and then raise an eyebrow and ask, “So who is she?” No offence to anyone who clings dearly to a belief that *someone* makes a whole language worth learning, but unless the relationship was as serious as marriage, dude, it’s *way* too much work!

So why I am I learning Dutch? I’ve asked myself this many times, and often questioned my motives… But the simplest answer I can give is that I feel a connection to the Netherlands that I can’t shake. I started learning just casually to pick up a bit, and the more I learned the language and spent time with a number of Dutch people, the more I felt drawn to the whole package. Many outsiders are offended by some aspects of the culture, but I find the way of life (what I read of it anyway), the blunt honesty, the way the language sounds… all very endearing. Call it divine calling, call it a random fascination bordering on obsession; there’s no one thing that makes all this work ‘make sense’, it’s just a feeling I have that I need to be able to relate to the people of this country. And so if it means a few hours’ less sleep/free-time in a week, and if it means evenings of conversation flying over my head that I don’t understand, there’s something in me that I can’t define or explain that says it’s worth the time I give to it.

Maybe I’ll never be fluent, but I can only get better. And who knows, someone’s life may be turned around in 20 years, just because I decided to do the hard yards now.

I thought I'd written this already, but obviously it only made it to my offline (read: private!) journal! I was reflecting on how you can have your mind made up on something and resolve to do a certain thing, but when you're tired that is less likely to happen. I've found this a number of times in the last week...

I am of the opinion that you can discipline your thoughts. Yes, you can have control over what you're thinking. Maybe not summon the right thoughts exactly when you need them, but certainly reject a thought that you know isn't helpful. As I've alluded to in previous posts, I'm in a situation where I need to change how I think about a certain thing in life. Now I know I can do this, and have proved to myself that trains of thought can be redirected to more fruitful destinations. But the act of doing so takes mental effort. It means you have to keep a continual eye on what you're thinking, so you can jump in and redirect if need be. (I can imagine this driving one to insanity when taken to the nth degree!)

When you're tired, you find your resolve is weakened because you have less energy to devote to monitoring your thoughts. And even if alarm bells do start to ring, you feel too lazy/tired to do anything about changing them. So your mind falls back into the old, well-worn thought patterns. But this doesn't have to last forever. I'm not a psychologist, but I'm told on good authority that a mental connection will grow stronger if it is used, and atrophy if unused. The more I discipline my thoughts in a certain direction, tired or not, the more 'natural' the new way will become and the more 'unnatural' the old way will become. Using fatigue as an excuse is just an act of sabbotage really, because you're undoing progress you've already worked hard to make.

Posts usually don't warrant a bibliography, but if you're interested about this whole idea of changing thought patterns, let me recommend Joyce Meyer's book 'The Battlefield of the Mind'.

I saw on TV last night and then at Coles today that they now sell Cheerios (the breakfast cereal) in Australia! I used to lament that this cereal available in Britain and America wasn't sold here, and it would do so well... But now we have it - I'm as excited as a little kid at Christmas!!

I'm just churning out the posts today! Let's just say I had a very intellectually productive shift at work this morning! :) I wrote this in a leadership assignment last term (which I got back yesterday) and as I was reading over it again, I realised how true it is...

I have also discovered that in my life, my emotions follow the lead of my thoughts, and then take over. I have noticed this in other non-conflict situations as well. My thoughts will take me to a place where I am thinking about a certain person or situation in a particular way and the thought patterns will build an emotion within me. As the emotion gains strength, it will begin a process where thoughts that support it will be permissible (and continue to build the emotion) but those that are not supportive will be rejected. The only thing that can break such a thought-emotional stronghold in my life is God’s intervention with a new thought. I only consider the new thought because it’s from God and He is a higher value in my thinking/emotions than anything else.

Referring to the same sudden change as the last post, I was amusing myself today by comparing my situation to that of a grief situation (which doesn't have to include death!). So I opened up my notes from Counselling last term to see if there were any parallels. The steps were denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. I saw aspects of this process in my thoughts and how I responded to the events that happened, but was amazed at how quickly it happened for me: maybe two hours maximum? It reminded me of a funny, similar situation from the Simpsons...

Dr. H: Now, a little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.
Homer: No way! Because I'm not dying! [hugs Marge]
Dr. H: The second is anger.
Homer: Why you little! [steps towards Dr. H]
Dr. H: After that comes fear.
Homer: What's after fear? What's after fear? [cringes]
Dr. H: Bargaining.
Homer: Doc, you gotta get me out of this! I'll make it worth your while!
Dr. H: Finally, acceptance.
Homer: Well, we all gotta go sometime.
Dr. H: Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me.
-- Homer learns he's going to die, ''One Fish, Two Fish, Blowfish, Blue Fish''

It's a very odd thing how memory can work... This week has been a week of remarkable change for me (a statement upon which I won't elaborate as it involves other people), but it's involved having to change something huge in my mindset very suddenly. As I think upon it now, although I'm beginning to get a grasp on what has had to change, I can't get my head back into the mindset that it was a week ago. The event(s) that forced this change have made such an impact that I simply can't identify with that anymore - it seems so foreign. And this was to a time less than a week ago. Maybe it's because we only store events in our memory, and we can only interpret them in the present according to our understanding of the world *now*. This theory runs into all sorts of complications which make my head spin, but it's a little bewildering when I analyse what I'm thinking...

As you may know, I have the extremely glamourous job of working on a checkout at Coles. It's not exactly the most intellectually taxing job in the world, and I find it mind-numbing to devote all my concentration to the task at hand (i.e. scanning and packing customers' groceries). So while I do my best at the job, I'm quite at liberty to let my mind do other things... So here's a little peek into some of the stuff that runs through my head...

Current issues: I'm often accused of thinking too much, and this is one of the places I do it most. The checkout is the source of my greatest ideas, theories, revelations, paranoias and insecurities. I look at things from as many angles as possible, trying to make sense of them but often driving myself to insanity.

It's not all worthless thought - I often take the opportunity to look at what's coming up and plan my time accordingly.

Then there's always the language study that always keeps me busy. I try to always have a short list of Dutch words beside me to look at when I get a spare minute. More recently, I've used the time to memorise lyrics to Dutch songs (Marco Borsato). Sometimes, I copy them out onto a piece of paper beside me, a couple of words at a time while credit card transactions are going through! :)

It's also pretty cool to have a couple of verses from the Bible there, just sitting in my head and meditating on them a bit. It lets it integrate into the rest of my thought process a little. The thought often turns into random prayer, and quite often I'll end up singing to myself (until it gets a little loud and the customer starts looking for the mosquito!).

Those are the main things - there's always something to ponder. Thinking like this can get very frustrating, but as long as it's kept under control, it can be a very productive way of passing the time!

As previous posts will attest to, I spent a few days in Perth last week, those days spanning a weekend, so I missed out on *my* church for just one weekend. Is that such a bad thing, you might ask? I didn't think so much of it at the time, but this weekend just gone, it really hit me how much I love my church! I was sitting behind the graphics desk (putting the karaoke words up on the screen for everyone) thinking, "Hey, I'm back in tha house - I'm back home again." Given that my personal concept of home is so retarded, that's quite a thing for me to think.

Others find it quite incredible to think that I can feel at home in such a huge, 'impersonal' place such as Hillsong Church. Yes, it's a huge church, but there are so many sub-groups, all moving in the same direction with the same goal (which works wonders against the evils of divisiveness!). It's easy enough to hide, but once you get sucked into just one group (which is the desired effect), the networking just happens!

For everyone outside of Hillsong, believe me, there is more to this church than just the music you hear. This is an awesome church that wants to make a difference for the better in our world. For all of you a part of Hillsong, whether I know you personally or not, thanks for being a part of making church great!!

One way or another, I do quite a lot of travelling, even if that is only between Perth and Sydney, and there's one part of the trip that I've come to love... being met at the airport. I usually travel alone, and there's usually a sense of responsibility that comes with that - no-one else is looking out for you. There's just something within me that can breathe a huge sigh of relief when I see that familiar, friendly face.

Let me share what the opposite can be like... You touch down at a strange airport where you're there for the purpose of meeting a friend somewhere in the area/country. You come through the arrivals gate/hall, pick up your baggage, and feel like you should have reached the end of your journey, only to have to start the next leg - by train, bus, taxi, whatever... As you are responsible for your movements, your mind can't 'finish' the journey. It's only when you meet that person (who is a 'local') that you can mentally deliver yourself into their hands and trust that they'll take care of the rest of the journey, even if that's a 2 hour drive.

So to everyone who has ever waited at the arrival gate for me, THANK YOU! You have no idea how much I appreciate it, and your face looks even more beautiful and welcoming because you made the effort to park the car and come in to wait!

Back in the day, when I was coming to the end of high school and deciding what to do next, there seemed to be two obvious choices (things I was good at): languages and computers. I ended up choosing the languages option because I didn't want to spend the rest of my life fixing other people's computer problems.

Six years later...

I am spending a number of hours of my final day in Perth fixing the family computer. This afternoon, as we tried to add an all-in-one device (printer/scanner/fax), something happened to make the keyboard and mouse stop working. The short story - we had to buy a new motherboard, and as the repairs couldn't be done on the spot by the computer shop, and it included a lot of other stuff too, I ended up with the fun task of replacing the motherboard. That done, I am now halfway through my second attempt at installing Windows XP. (The first one was majorly stuffed up by Norton, and it was quicker for me to start again.)

Now computers are something I can do - this is the second I've reloaded Windows onto this week, and I know there's another waiting for me upon my return to Sydney. And I identify too much with each person's pain of having a computer that *should* work but doesn't. But the irony of how things have turned out... The reason I chose languages was precisely to *avoid* spending my life doing this.

Anyway, switching off and back to Sydney... Where at least one more computer awaits me, if not more that I don't yet know about!

I'm back in Perth at the moment, and the examples of two other people (one in this house, the other in another state) have inspired me to blog. The thought at the forefront of my mind is one that was sown into my thinking last night. I was catching up with James and Adam, and we were talking about what we'd all been doing. Adam then challenged me with the thought of not thinking what I'd done this week, but who have I been this week? As a friend, who have I been? As a son/brother, who have I been? As an employee... As a volunteer and servant... Can I just lie on my bed and *be*? Do I have to up and around doing stuff? For someone who identifies themselves by what they do as much as I do, it was a really interesting thought, one that's beginning to take root.

Your eyes scan the room lazily, searching for nothing in particular. You've seen these faces hundreds of times before - they're old friends - you know them well. Your gaze is halted in its path by the sudden awareness of a flash of colour. You back up for a second take - what changed? No-one new has entered the gathering, no-one has left. A familiar face illuminates the room in a way that the senses cannot explain but there's no escaping the reality of this perception. You blink and attempt to continue your aimless exercise but your eyes keep returning to this face, beyond your conscious control so it seems. The exercise becomes a quest to conquer - objectivity is your ally, or so you claim, and subjective indulgence is the illusive enemy. It's a losing battle from the outset, as you are fighting an invisible enemy. What is it about this face? Why the sudden significance? Why am I taken captive by a thought I can neither define nor articulate? Such is the seed of intrigue, from which can grow both obsession and revelation. Its origins cannot be explained, nor can our responses. One of the great mysteries of the human psyche!

For those of you who know me well, you'll know that I love Smallville. For those who don't, now you know. :p But what is it that I love so much about it? I mean, seriously, no other television series has ever had me quite so hooked, rod, line, sinker and fisherman, like this. As we learned in TV class, story (or content) is always vital, and Smallville has a story that you want to follow. Yeah, it's the story of Superman and you get to see him discover his powers, but the thing that hooks you in is the relationships between the characters. For instance, will Clarke ever hook up with Lana? (They just did, in the episode I watched last night.) Will Chloë ever get over Clarke? (Haven't seen it happen yet.) Will Jonathan and Martha ever break the mold of being painfully perfect parents? How come Lex and Clarke end up as enemies by the time he graduates to his superhero career? The story and characters intrigue!

And it's not just me... I'm just part of a chain of people who have got hooked. Here's the story...

Last year, I lived at 148BVD with the American bros. Tim's mum had been a Smallville fan and she had got him hooked. He decided to order seasons 1 & 2 on DVD for her birthday. She lives in the States. He ordered them off Amazon.com. He got them shipped to Australia. Hmmmm....

None of the rest of us in the house were particular fans. But within about 3 or 4 episodes, the whole house was hooked. The events that followed resulted in 3 seasons being watched in 3 weeks, and nothing else getting done - laundry, cooking, proper sleeping... Then we had to watch season 4 painstakingly slowly, one episode per week (the way it was intended!!). Now we're all waiting for season 5...

But I have continued the legacy... The number of people who have become hooked as a result of my direct influence (i.e. providing them with DVDs) goes off one hand and I don't care to count anymore. When season 5 comes out, huge Smallville gatherings will take place on a weekly basis as the next precious installment in the series is shown.

In the meantime, I'm taking it slowly with reruns. Not long to go now!

Lightbulb moment today... You know how you say 'adieu' to say goodbye to someone? (Like, "I bid you adieu") I just realised what that's all about:

It comes from the French à Dieu, which literally means 'to God'. So whenever you say that, you are commiting them into God's hands and blessing them. As Robert Fergusson says, how cool is that? :)

There's a lady who comes into work (Coles) every Saturday with three children, two of which are identical twins. I've noticed that every week she comes in, the twins are dressed in exactly the same outfit. They're always in either the pushchair (aka stroller) or double-seat trolley... It really got me thinking what that would do for your sense of identity.

The whole deal with finding your identity is developping a sense of who you are and what makes you unique and *not* someone else. If you're a twin, you must have much more competition right from the word 'go' because everyone else initially sees you as being the same person. I once asked one of my friends who has an identical twin sister what it was like, and she said it was cool - she and her sister are very different people and they haven't had any issues like that. But, if your parents dress you the same way and everything, wouldn't that make it even harder?

For those of you who haven't moved around all that much, have you ever really thought about 'what is home'? What defines the concept for you? I've been thinking about that recently, because I can't find a single thing that nails it down. For instance, I was watching an English comedian the other day (Bill Bailey, to be precise) talking about very English things, and something lurched within me (not my lunch!) identifying with home. And whenever I'm back in Perth, happening to drive down Leach Highway and Murdoch Drive, that also feels like home because that journey was a part of my life for so long.

I think that a place can remind you of home, but what really *makes* it home is the people. I go back to Singapore (where I lived for 3 years) and recognise all the places that were once a part of my day-to-day life, but it doesn't feel like home. None of the people I used to know are left there. But I can visit Yeovil/Sherborne in the UK where I only lived for 6 months, and it still feels like home because there are still the people-links back there.

They say that home is where the heart it, and I believe the heart rests in relationships. My life has brought me to a place where I can call no one place home - I have friends scattered across the globe. Maybe it'll be different when I have a family of my own, but for now, my concept of home is kinda messed up!

As most of the world is aware, there were a number (7, from memory) of explosions in London last week, which have since been attributed to terrorists. The news came through on the second last night of Hillsong Conference and it affected me in an unexpected way...

As a half-English, half-Aussie, I have the unique luxury of being able to choose my nationality to how it suits me. (If someone is insulting Australia, I can laugh with them; you get the picture...) As it's been over 8 years since I lived in the UK, that country doesn't really feel like 'home' for me. (Neither does Australia, but that's besides the point.) But when the news came in, I just stood in front of the TV feeling numb. I felt both like one affected and one watching from the outside - it's the strangest feeling. Other people can be one or the other - I am condemned to sit on the fence.

Now how selfish is this post, making an event of world significance all about me? Looking beyond myself...

Sadly, these events have achieved their purpose - drawn attention to the terrorists and causes behind them. Why spend millions on an advertising campaign when the world media will fund it for you? To all those who have been directly affected by these attacks, may God give you the strength to continue living and the grace to overcome such evil with good. I cannot identify with losing someone in my world in what is such a waste of life, nor can identify with surviving an event like this. So anything I say will sound shallow and uninformed. But this I know: God is still on the throne, despite someone's stupid use of their free will, and justice will be executed on the earth in the end.

This last week has been a holiday, right? I'm at the end of it and it doesn't really feel like it's been a holiday. Have had a *lot* more sleep than usual, very cool, but the rest of the time... I'm a workaholic, love being productive and don't like having my time wasted. So this week has been frustrating: I don't know what I've accomplished, but I don't feel so rested. Oh well...

Back to college next week... Looking forward to classes but not to assignments. I need a virtual cattle-prod to spur me into action with those - enough said! :)

Last week was Conference, this week is sleep... I'm so glad college had the foresight to give us the week off. It's also been nice to have time to get stuff done that you wouldn't normally get to do... Yesterday, I was able to spend time with 3 people who don't normally live in Sydney (Mark, Dad and Rosie) - usually, I just wouldn't be able to fit it in!

Unfortunately, there are three assignments hovering over this week. The assignments will be good to do, and interesting I'm sure; I just resent the fact that I *have* to do them! :) Oh well, I still have time to sleep as well as get them done.

Not an especially deep post here today... But I think I'm going to finish and go and do some Dutch translation. Doei!

Just figured out how to post pictures on here... so here I am!!

I'm kinda excited - last week while I was run off my feet at Hillsong Conference, my Dutch Bible arrived! Maybe I should backtrack - I hadn't been able to find anywhere in Australia to get one, so I had to order from Europe. The order took 2½ months to get here! It's the 'Het Boek' translation - reasonably contemporary, so I'm told.

So why am I so excited about a Dutch Bible? It's something I'm studying anyway (the Bible, that is), and there are times when a verse just jumps out at you. How cool to be able to cross-reference it to the Dutch (and French, for that matter!). I'm basically looking for any material in the languages I'm learning, and this will be such a good language resource for me!

"Want God geeft ons niet een lafhartige geest, maar een sterke geest vol liefde en bedachtzaamheid." 2 Timotheüs 1:7

So what do you write on a blog? I know some people who have got themselves into huge trouble with friends for making less-than-positive remarks about others. And there are some things that it's just best that the whole world doesn't know about! So I figure I'm going to treat it like a mass email, and write what I'm doing and *some* of what I'm thinking... Then, when do do email/call individuals, we don't have to spend quite so long covering 'background information'. We'll see how it goes...

I guess most people reading this will know who I am, but for those who don't, find out more about this random person telling the world about himself!

=> Read more!

I was just inspired to put up a blog on my site, seeing as I'm not really using the site for anything else. It's kinda cool reading what's going on in other people's worlds and isn't quite as intrusive as a mass email. So we'll see how this goes. I'm just getting my head around the software at the moment - don't quite understand everything yet, but give it time!