let there be...

..thunder!!!
Can I dare to hope?! A proper thunderstorm!

It seems ages since we've had a good thunderstorm...and take it from me, I'm no great fan of thunder normally but there is something to be said for only missing something once it has gone. And gone have been the good old summer days of thunderstorms each afternoon - when all through the day the humidity steadily thickened and you raced for your cars before the encroaching clouds erupted and emptied their stores in sudden, loudly energetic bursts.

I love the build up to a storm really - that's more what it is. The clouds suddenly taking on a blue hue as the sky darkens and the wind begins to chase leaves around on the ground. You sense the electricity in the air and smell the approaching rain. The soulful call of the Coel (storm bird) then guarantees something is afoot. It's almost as if the electricity in the air sparks with my neurons as I feel a real frission of excitement.

Ah huh...no thunder, alas, but the downpour is upon us and it's ferociously refreshing!

World Refugee Day ....THIS SUNDAY 22nd

Yep I'm back on the Refugee bandwagon!....

As most of you probably know, for the last year and a bit Andrew and I have been working as volunteer tutors/ community support with a family from Afghanistan. This Sunday there will celebrations for World Refugee Day from 9am to 4pm at the Annerley soccer fields near Juliette and Ridge streets, Annerley.

The day is being organized by the group who we tutor through i.e. VoRTCS. On offer on the day will be music, markets, a soccer and volleyball competition, cultural and art exhibitions and no doubt some pretty interesting food.


If you have any free time on Sunday, it would be great if you could come along and show your support for refugees in our community. Andrew and I will be heading over there about 11am - hopefully with some of the members of our Afghan family.

If you want to meet up on the day, just give me a call/ text.

Bollyfunk - Jennysunk

As some of you may or may not know, I've finally got my booty into gear and donned the appropriate attire to 'get down' with those in the hood. If those hoods be sequined and in vibrant-hued colours...

Inspired by "So You Think You Can Dance" and pushed by my friend Niti, I'm now attending Bollywood and Funk dance classes. I can 'crunk' it with the best of them, and my shimmy is quite a sight to behold (sunglasses optional).

I refer to Hamish and Andy when I say I'm "doing" bollyfunk. Now that I've gone to more than two classes, I feel I can technically qualify for participation status. The only downside, apart from being winded on the warm-up and having to invest in some garish gym wear, is not going often enough. I find I'm not alone here - doing a well balanced survey of two - in having the memory of a goldfish when it comes to remembering the previous weeks' dance moves.

My husband is no help in this regard either, as he has yet to ask what I actually do each Monday night! So there's no-one to show off my classy moves to and hence reinforce the endless melange of steps, which fade as quickly as my aspirations to become fitter.

So this Monday was the third week of our dance routines for Bollywood and Funk and the final for each particular genres dances. I was determined to remember at least ONE dance in it's entirity so, if only to prove to myself, I could see what I've spent all this money on (and also to show off my skills, for charitable endeavours, by say entertaining the troops in Afghanistan (ahem)!

Alas, this was not to be...The third and final trying week introduced the element of partners!
Okay, if looking like an uncoordinated startled bear on prozac wasn't enough, I now had to meld these thuddings and thumpings with someone else in some semblence of rhythm. The instructor had gone one syncopated-step too far! Introductory classes people, introductory.

My poor partner turned out to be, ironically, the only male in the class and Indian at that. So one distinct advantage, being a Bollywood dance, offset with one distinct disadvantage - that being paired with me, not male ofcourse ;-) . Anyway, needless to say I was a knockout. My poor partner was, dare I say it, worse than me!

I look forward to next week and a set of two new routines and two left feet with which to perform them!

Hope

Today I saw a movie.

http://www.hopedocumentary.com.au/hope/index.htm


It was a documentary. A tragic story about Hope.






It was about Amal. Her name means hope - but it should, and will now, be synonymous with courage.




Amal Basry watched The Titanic at a cinema in Baghdad the night before she fled Iraq. 18 months later the people smuggling boat she was on sank between Indonesia and Australia. 353 people drowned. Amal survived by clinging to the floating body of a dead woman for 22 hours. Now Amal fights to ensure that the disaster is not forgotten, reunite her family and 'find what it was I lost in the ocean'.

I do not remember this tragedy. If I did, I would have only remembered it as 'another lot of asylum seekers' trying to get to Australia.

I am now ashamed of my own narrow-mindedness.

I don't know alot about asylum seekers, refugees, illegal imigrants - but I know more that I used to - and I have Andrew to thank for my new-found awareness of social justice issues.

For your interest, from reading the VORTCS site (our refugee tutoring association) -

1) Because boat arrivals receive much publicity, it is often thought that the number of asylum seekers entering Australia is increasing. According to the Refugee Council of Australia, the number of asylum applications lodged in Australia decreased from 12,366 in 2001 to 5,766 in 2002.

2) Australia received fewer asylum applications than just about any other similar country between 1997 and 2003. And Australia only granted 17.8% of these asylum applications – compared with 57.8% in Canada, 34.7% in the United Kingdom and 28.8% in the United States.

3) Arriving without appropriate papers should not be interpreted as an attempt to defraud the system. By definition, refugees and asylum seekers are people who are at risk of persecution, most often from their government. Applying for a passport and/or an exit visa can be far too dangerous for some refugees; so too can be an approach to an Australian Embassy for a visa. These actions can put their lives, and those of their families, at risk. In such cases refugees may have to travel on forged documents or bypass regular migration channels and arrive without papers. In other situations, refugees have to flee immediately and do not have the opportunity to gather the correct paperwork before they leave their homes.

Today I saw a movie.

I didn't enjoy it - instead I was moved to tears.

And I thought how lucky I am!

And so endeth another week...

Top 5 Fave's for the week ending the 8th:

1) The stupid conversations I have with Andrew - in particular trying to mime a sudden brilliant plan I had tonight of going to Freestyle Tout for dessert. Let me recreate the madness...

So to get the ball rolling, I introduced him to the fact I may have had a cunning plan! This involved Andrew's favourite "Kia eyes" (the explanation will take too long) and once hooked (I took the bemused frowning as encouragement), I followed this winner up with silly arm movements, to indicate my 'freestyling' dance. After guesses of Bollywood and serious psychiatric disorder - I had an inkling that I may be floundering alittle - so I tried to break it down into 'style' (involved pouting and puffed out chest?!) and.....well, there was no And, as I finally shouted FREESTYLES FOR DESSERT at his blank face. Needless to say he put me in my place straight away, "Why didn't you just mime swimming?"...hmm, damn my neglected Articulate practice.

2) Andrew/Jenisms:

• A: "The steak took 17.5 minutes, only turned it once, with 7 mins on the first side and about 9mins on the other" J: "Oh there's no 'about' it Andrew!".
• J: "Did you notice the echo?". Andrew looking quizzically at me over the table.."No". J: "Huh, huh, huhhh.. see that echo with the wine bottle". A: "Ah yes, another glass for you Mrs Morrison!". (nb: there was an echo with the empty wine bottle when you directed your voice at it!...good experiment should you get bored with your dining partner at the table!)
• A: "That pepper says best by 2002!". J: in supercilious scientist voice "Andrew pepper doesn't go off!" (my standard response to anything with a due-by date suggesting we should be dead by now).

Gold for Morrisons!

3) Sundays, relaxing ones (in this case with in-laws up the coast), where you finally get your spiritually starved souls to church in the morning and follow that up with some serious journalism - well, we searched for it in the Sunday papers for quite some time anyway! Then another good serve for the soul, in the form of Songs of Praise. Yes, you heard me admit it here first! I might as well go the whole hog and say that, not only am I a fan of Antique roadshow, but I do enjoy abit of Songs of Praise on the side! I'll search for the appropriate group to associate myself with on Facebook and truly come out of the vestment closet. I have to say there's something really nice about visiting (with Aled no less) historic churches from all over the beautiful English countryside, set to some well-sung hymns, to make you feel like it's Sunday! (put away those aghast expressions!)

4) Getting through presenting 3hrs worth of training on Quarantine Diseases and not blowing it! Even the curly questions I got from the participants didn't throw me too much (no I'm not 100% sure that the fungi found in Tuttenkhamen's tomb would be viable after 5000yrs!) nor the fact that some were nodding off right before my eyes!

5) The anticipation which gets you through the week because it's a LONG WEEKEND...need I say any more!


Thumbs down:

There not being four days to the long weekend, so you can fit in seeing friends AND the dreaded domestic duties!



NB - WATCH THIS SPACE for exciting news concerning a joint venture with a friend...
NNB - Actually it may not happen overnight, but it will happen! (we hope)
NNBB - aaah, that DOESN'T have any reference to babies!...well, not the obvious one you might think!

Did I mention rambling?.....

Ah yes, never one to scrimp on the side serve of words, is old McWaffle here!

It's an egotistical thing obviously - the need to draw people into alignment with your own (dis)illusions of mastery. I admit, I'm a lover of wordplay and she is being used and abused by me, well and truly! Min can attest to the beginnings of my foray into fraternising with the flourishing font of imagery. Ah, those were the good years!

But alas, the font has succumbed to the drought too and it is now no more than a recalcitrant bubbler. No more do I put on my foppish hat and delve deep into my soul, pouring out twisted tributes to anything and nothing.

....now I am a surface dweller, a bubbler without the lever. But, in the begginning there was:

Penetrating

Deep down,

below the shell of skin,

further still,

past the barrier of bones

guarding organs

within.

(within) a twin lies,

sheltered, seldom ever shown

never exposed, leads a life of its own.

Deep down,

dark lined walls

of the tunnel,

of the well,

beneath the surface.

(surface) memories and events,

line the raw surrounds

Deep down,

Deep down

Deep down

gaining momentum,

spun wildly

out of control.

A downpour of emotions,

awash

floundering, reaching

towards the inner sanctum

of the twin.

In black troubled waters,

slowly drowning,

Deep Down.

;-)....woohoo for the Q's b'day

Horizons

"I wasn't looking at the horizon. I know that it's all around me, but I wasn't looking at it."...."But two days ago, I got used to looking into the distance. And I saw that besides tables, chairs and objects, my world also included the mountains, clouds, the sky. And my soul - my soul seems to have eyes that is uses to touch those things."

The Valkyries (Paulo Coelho)

"But you are forcing me to look at wealth and at horizons I have never know. Now that I have seen them, and now that I see how immense my possibilities are, I'm going to feel worse than I did before you arrived. Because I know the things I should be able to accomplish, and I don't want to do so."

The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)

This would have started a good ramble about the limitlessness of our horizons and where they can lead us, should we be aware enough to look outward. It would also have touched on how realisation of the limits we impose on ourselves can occur when we take our hands away from our eyes. The pleasure and overwhelming limitless is at once awe inspiring and frightening.

But now that all seems trite for a topic that sprun to mind as I noticed the beauty of winter in the warm rays enriching the Brisbane city-scape one afternoon. The same afternoon I had one of those moments when you dissasociate from consciousness and realise - I am an ant.

You have to look no further than those quotes above to get a good idea of what I would have said anyway. Instead I'm going to recount some reflections on others journeys - small stories of others horizons and how they have stared at them and expanded their souls.

Bronwyn

When I think of liberation of the soul, I think of Bronwyn, and in particular her recent journey overseas (http://butty22.blogspot.com/). When I think of a slogan for her I also think "just do it". Uncertain that her job was giving her fulfilment, she didn't just keep on thinking what could be, but thought -what next! I admire her so much for taking leaps and bounds where I would fear to take the first tentative step across the line from comfort to uncertainty - to the horizon and all it holds. Her driving force is not comfort and complacency but discovery and compassion....oh and a good shot of demestos to clear the way forward ;-). This gloved crusador, for all things experiential, gives me hope that one day I'll remove the shield of fear and go forth and conquer those ambitions - one Machu Pichu at a time.

Roya

When I think of altruism I think of the elder sister of our refugee family. Roya is the "hostess with the mostest". She cooks, cleans and struggles to keep her orphaned teenage/early adult siblings living together harmoniously as they struggle against her seemingly 'imposed' authority. Every Wednesday Roya and her family greet us with open arms and bottomless cups of spiced tea as we attempt to offer whatever feeble english tuition we can give - usually in the form of 'conversational' english! Every Wednesday they thank us profusely and we leave (stomach's moaning and bladder's bloated) overwhelmed by their fortitude and our own easy fortune. Their gratitude for something we take for granted is so moving and humbling, and their belief in the rewarding horizons so encouraging.

Roya who realises so well the situation at hand, yet is so powerless to stop her family breaking apart thinks her engagment will be the salve that is needed to heal wounds. She thinks nothing of herself, nor her happiness but of her family and their needs. I was moved to tears, when she was talking about her engagement and her response to my question of whether she loved her husband-to-be " .....no....but he's a good man.. I think".

If I think my horizons are limited by fear, I think of the actual adversity this family has seen and endured and yet continues to look outward and ever forward with keen eyes and feverent hearts. They believe in Australia, the land and the people, as just and fair. Persecution has not stopped now they are here, but it takes another more insidious, unaccountable form. Yet still they believe in the prospect of golden soil and wealth for toil, in the home of the young and free.

Personally, I take great stock not only from these people, but from all my friends, family and whomever I have shared, even fleetingly, a connection. I see in others what I yearn for myself and thereby adopt parts of all these connections into who I am and want to be. Nature vs Nurture doesn't begin and end in the womb, that's for sure! I often marvel at how little 'me' there is in myself. I am so much a collection of others, good and bad. Like my hair colour, which I have tried to so vainly to disguise for so many years, do I really remember anymore what is natural, intrinsictly me? But that's for another 'non-rambling' blog :-) ...

Anyway, nothing warms my heart more than new perspectives and random bursts of totally truthful moments. The smile from an unexpected source, the handmade card from an overworked colleague, the small yet natural conversation with a stranger, the discovery of knowledge you thought was beyond your emulsified memories, the stirring of the desire for neural wealth, the softness and warmth of the setting sun on a winter's day, the opportunities we can only chance upon and never properly express, and the joy of our natural world - life being lived all around me, interconnecting with me and continuing without me - for me to observe and enjoy and contribute to.

"The wise men understood that this natural world is only an image and a copy of paradise. The existence of this world is simply a guarantee that there exists a world that is perfect. God created the world so that, through its visible objects, men could understand his spiritual teachings and marvel of his wisdom."
The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)