It’s a long way across the Pacific Ocean. The Los Angeles to Sydney flight is 14 hours, and you’re never what sure, having boarded at midnight and arriving at 8am just what time zone you’re in. A day disappears somewhere along the international date line. I got a few hours sleep – more than I usually do on long flights, and arrived with a thrill of exultation as we flew in over Sydney and looped around to make a landing from the north.
I caught a train up to mum’s and it was wonderful to see her. I’ve met some wonderful people this year, but there’s no one like mum. Of course, there never is for anyone. We hugged, we had lunch, and began the catching up on 9 months of news from each other’s lives, though with mum having read the blog and me having phoned every week there wasn’t any news that we hadn’t already shared. But to be there face to face was so good. To eat mum’s homemade soup with its unique turnip-parsnip flavour helped me know that I’m home.
I resisted the temptation to sleep in the afternoon and made it through to 6pm, when I slept, with a few wake ups, for 12 hours. I did well to be able to get back to sleep at all. Usually with jetlag I wake up at 2 or 3am and don’t get back to sleep.
Today, Sunday, I went to Mass with mum, then headed down to Pennant Hills to have a lunch with a dozen of my closest friends, the old St Agatha’s church gang. Riding down on the train it still didn’t feel real that I was back in Australia. It feels like I’m away for the weekend, and that on Monday I’ll be back in class at CTU again. I think seeing my friends here will help to make it feel more concrete.
So, here is where I finish the blog. It was only ever going to be for keeping in touch with family and friends in Australia while I was in Chicago. Perhaps if I had known how cheap phone calls would be I might never have started the blog, but in fact it became a wonderful discipline to make me stop and think how best to tell the story of my life each week. Part of me thinks that perhaps I should keep it up, but I will find other ways, including my personal journal and some group emails to keep on reflecting. This part of the story of my life is over. New chapters begin.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The last goodbye
I always knew this would be tough. I felt a little awkward last week as I said goodbye to people in my class at CTU because I knew that the last goodbyes were yet to come. But today these too had come, as we all packed up the beach house and checked out.
I had plenty of tears stored up behind my eyes, having only shed tears once so far. As we drove to the airport Thomas reached under his seat and gave me a gift, a copy of Narcissus and Goldmund by Herman Hesse, which I’d read his copy of earlier this year and shared many reflections about. This was the trigger that simply bought me unglued. I was wordless.
Everyone came to the airport to wave me off, and as I went around the circle to hug everyone I choked up more and more. I wanted to say something meaningful to each person as I went, but words failed me. I’m glad I made time for these over the past few days. Thomas hugged me with shoulder-dislocating force and whispered “thanks for always being there for me” in my ear, and there was nothing left to say or do but to walk away. The last word I heard as I trudged away was Jason saying “phenomenal”, and I can find no better word to describe my year.
There was a hot pain behind my eyes as I checked in my luggage. Once that was done I found a quiet corner of the departure lounge to let myself absolutely sob. I filled up about six napkins with snot. Then I read the inscription Thomas wrote inside the book and cried a bit more. Then after I’d released it a bit, I felt a lot better.
The final words of The Lord of the Rings came to mind; as Frodo prepares to depart Middle Earth Gandalf says to the hobbits “I will not say ‘do not weep’, for not all tears are an evil”. Indeed they’re not. The sadness I feel at leaving my friends is only there because of the love that I have shared. Rather than think of what I have lost, I am thinking of how much I have gained.
I had plenty of tears stored up behind my eyes, having only shed tears once so far. As we drove to the airport Thomas reached under his seat and gave me a gift, a copy of Narcissus and Goldmund by Herman Hesse, which I’d read his copy of earlier this year and shared many reflections about. This was the trigger that simply bought me unglued. I was wordless.
Everyone came to the airport to wave me off, and as I went around the circle to hug everyone I choked up more and more. I wanted to say something meaningful to each person as I went, but words failed me. I’m glad I made time for these over the past few days. Thomas hugged me with shoulder-dislocating force and whispered “thanks for always being there for me” in my ear, and there was nothing left to say or do but to walk away. The last word I heard as I trudged away was Jason saying “phenomenal”, and I can find no better word to describe my year.
There was a hot pain behind my eyes as I checked in my luggage. Once that was done I found a quiet corner of the departure lounge to let myself absolutely sob. I filled up about six napkins with snot. Then I read the inscription Thomas wrote inside the book and cried a bit more. Then after I’d released it a bit, I felt a lot better.
The final words of The Lord of the Rings came to mind; as Frodo prepares to depart Middle Earth Gandalf says to the hobbits “I will not say ‘do not weep’, for not all tears are an evil”. Indeed they’re not. The sadness I feel at leaving my friends is only there because of the love that I have shared. Rather than think of what I have lost, I am thinking of how much I have gained.
Saving the best till last
The last day I spent in the US was also the best.
The only downside of Folly Beach had been the strong winds and strong rip at the beach. But on Wednesday, our last day there, the wind subsided and the rip diminished, making for perfect sunny conditions.
Matt started the day leading a prayer time on the pontoon, reflecting on how grounded we are when we feel the sand between our toes, compared to the rarefied life in Chicago. As we shared other prayers together our immanent separation was on the tip of everyone’s tongue, and we knew that the clock on the last 24 hours was ticking.
Todd and I had a last run together along the beach. Everyone came down to the beach for a while in the morning to enjoy the good conditions. I had a nap, read, and played some Nintendo Wii Rockband in the hot middle of the day.
I went for a walk with Thomas to have our last goodbye. I tried to make some intentional time with people to do these goodbyes so that it didn’t become all a blur on the last day and leave things unsaid. Ours has been quite an extraordinary friendship, bridging the age difference and unparalleled in each of our lives, and we gave voice to what each of us need to say. Though it may be, that to quote The Motorcycle Diaries, ours are lives that just ran parallel for a time, I hope, I intend that we will see each other again in the future.
We celebrated Wendy’s birthday and graduation. Alas we lit the candles on the cake too early and they burned down and kind of melted the icing, but it was good anyway.
Throughout the week Eric masterminded a competition in which we broke into 4 teams (named after the Hogwarts houses, complete with a sorting hat) who won and lost points for skill and virtue. Points were awarded for winning games, cooking meals, and taking the trash out. At the end of the week the winning team (us, Ravenclaw) could choose two players from the 3rd and 4th place teams to wrestle in the mud. Alas, there was no mud to be found. So instead, Eric and Eldon were chosen to sock wrestle on the beach. Eric was typically good sported about being chosen, and endured a painful exfoliation of his sunburn from the sand.
We celebrated Mass together. It was an extraordinarily powerful and intimate time of prayer. We shared reflections on the gospel – and a group of theology grad students had some fairly wonderful insights. Todd said, as Matt had before him, that he’s never been with a group of people who are so intentional about their prayer life and so willing to share together. We sang “Let us break bread together on our knees” and shared communion. We ended arm in arm praying blessings for one another. There was no more fitting way I could finish the week, and indeed the whole year in the US
The only downside of Folly Beach had been the strong winds and strong rip at the beach. But on Wednesday, our last day there, the wind subsided and the rip diminished, making for perfect sunny conditions.
Matt started the day leading a prayer time on the pontoon, reflecting on how grounded we are when we feel the sand between our toes, compared to the rarefied life in Chicago. As we shared other prayers together our immanent separation was on the tip of everyone’s tongue, and we knew that the clock on the last 24 hours was ticking.
Todd and I had a last run together along the beach. Everyone came down to the beach for a while in the morning to enjoy the good conditions. I had a nap, read, and played some Nintendo Wii Rockband in the hot middle of the day.
I went for a walk with Thomas to have our last goodbye. I tried to make some intentional time with people to do these goodbyes so that it didn’t become all a blur on the last day and leave things unsaid. Ours has been quite an extraordinary friendship, bridging the age difference and unparalleled in each of our lives, and we gave voice to what each of us need to say. Though it may be, that to quote The Motorcycle Diaries, ours are lives that just ran parallel for a time, I hope, I intend that we will see each other again in the future.
We celebrated Wendy’s birthday and graduation. Alas we lit the candles on the cake too early and they burned down and kind of melted the icing, but it was good anyway.
Throughout the week Eric masterminded a competition in which we broke into 4 teams (named after the Hogwarts houses, complete with a sorting hat) who won and lost points for skill and virtue. Points were awarded for winning games, cooking meals, and taking the trash out. At the end of the week the winning team (us, Ravenclaw) could choose two players from the 3rd and 4th place teams to wrestle in the mud. Alas, there was no mud to be found. So instead, Eric and Eldon were chosen to sock wrestle on the beach. Eric was typically good sported about being chosen, and endured a painful exfoliation of his sunburn from the sand.
We celebrated Mass together. It was an extraordinarily powerful and intimate time of prayer. We shared reflections on the gospel – and a group of theology grad students had some fairly wonderful insights. Todd said, as Matt had before him, that he’s never been with a group of people who are so intentional about their prayer life and so willing to share together. We sang “Let us break bread together on our knees” and shared communion. We ended arm in arm praying blessings for one another. There was no more fitting way I could finish the week, and indeed the whole year in the US
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Folly Beach
Wow. This is a great few days.
It's so good to be able to just walk out the door of the house and walk 100 metres to be in the water at the beach. Not needing to take keys, or a swipe card, or a wallet or anything. Very freeing.
We have watched some wonderful sunsets. We have seen beautiful sunrises. Lots of swimming. Beach football and bocce. Plenty of time to cook and eat and read and sleep. We've had prayer times outside on the jetty pontoon. Todd cooked last night's feat of
Last night Todd & I went for a late night swim (and the waves were the best we've yet had).
Last night I slept on the balconey under the stars. Windy, but great to do. The closest thing to going camping I've done all year.
Most importantly I've had time to have some significant conversations with my friends which help to bring closure to this part of my life. Today I walked along the beach with Thomas and reflected on the mixed emotions of being sad to leave, but also excited to go home, to see everyone, and to start up in a new parish.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
South Carolina
I hate long goodbyes. Our last week at CTU was a string of farewell dinners, liturgies and events. By the time I left I felt well and truly ready to go, though with mixed feelings, of joy at all I had experienced in this past year, and the sadness of leaving. I felt a little awkward saying goodbye to some friends from my IRF class because I still had one more week to go with friends here, so it didn't really feel like my final goodbye. But after many hugs I left Chicago at lunchtime on Friday and began the two day drive to South Carolina on the east coast.
12 of us - the lutherans and friends - have a house at Folly Beach for 5 days. It's an incredible house with balconeys and rooftop lounge areas, across the road from the beach. The beach is nothing compared to a Sydney beach, but its great to be somewhere warm and to be able to swim after a long winter in Chicago which we didn't totally get over.
The week here promises to be filled with late nights of poker, hookah and nintendo Wii, but I think I'm going to do a bit of time on my own somehow. I went to bed earlyish last night and got up before sunrise to go down to the beach to pray, watch the sunrise, and have have a swim. It felt so wonderful, so I think I'll probably forgo some of the partying for the sake of some early nights and early mornings.
When I left Narraweena I had 4 days in San Francisco on my own to do some of the grieving and transitioning. I think I will be doing the same here.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Half Marathon
Yesterday I ran the Lake Geneva half marathon. It was a good cool-but-not-cold day for running in a beautiful lakeside down surrounded by farmland.
I did well. I was aiming for between 1 hr 30 min and 1 hr 40 min. The clock was 1:38:30 when I came around the bend to the finish line, so I pushed for all I was worth to come in at 1:39:30 - 99 and a half minutes!
I thought that this was a good effort for me, but only average within the race, but I actually came 38th out of 500 or so runners, which surprised me. My friend and trainer Todd (pictured) did the full marathon and came 9th overall. He said it was the toughest yet of the 15 or so marathons he's done, owing to the hills. Another runner said that this race is typically 10 minutes slower than most others.
As I reflect on the experience of the race, it forms many metaphors for my past 9 months here in Chicago:
There was lots of anticipation and excitement before the event. I'd been training for some weeks.
I started with unbridled enthusiasm, and had to deliberately pace myself. Todd and I ran the first 6 miles together which helped me in the race. In my time here I'm glad I deliberately held back from trying to find a parish to do ministry, or to take on extra subjects too soon. Pacing myself allowed me to soak in the experience much better.
About a quarter of the way in I started to feel very comfortable. I'd found my pack of people to run with - keeping an eye on the girl with the yellow tshirt and the guy in the blue one ahead of me. Here in Chicago I soon found my place in a couple of groups of friends.
Halfway through I felt quite invincible, like I could just keep going forever. Midway through my time here in the US I thought I could quite happily stay here for years, if there was reason to.
But by about mile 10 I was starting to hurt, and would have loved to have snapped my fingers and been at the finish line. There were times around Easter this year when I could gladly have just jumped on a plane to come home too.
But at the last mile marker - #12, I felt renewed, and was able to push myself up a knotch and finish strongly. I could say the same for my last month or so here, that I've tried to stay planted here, not to live in the future, but being attentive to the present moment.
At at the end in the minutes after the run as I downed a litre of water and a couple of bananas it seemed like it had all ended too soon. As I enter into the final week here in Chicago, really just a week of farewell dinners, liturgies and presentations I think that I will get to the end and likewise think that it ended too soon.
But then I'll get home to my family, my friends, and my new parish, and it will be just as wonderful as it was to take off my shoes, have a shower, sit down and eat after the race!
I did well. I was aiming for between 1 hr 30 min and 1 hr 40 min. The clock was 1:38:30 when I came around the bend to the finish line, so I pushed for all I was worth to come in at 1:39:30 - 99 and a half minutes!
I thought that this was a good effort for me, but only average within the race, but I actually came 38th out of 500 or so runners, which surprised me. My friend and trainer Todd (pictured) did the full marathon and came 9th overall. He said it was the toughest yet of the 15 or so marathons he's done, owing to the hills. Another runner said that this race is typically 10 minutes slower than most others.
As I reflect on the experience of the race, it forms many metaphors for my past 9 months here in Chicago:
There was lots of anticipation and excitement before the event. I'd been training for some weeks.
I started with unbridled enthusiasm, and had to deliberately pace myself. Todd and I ran the first 6 miles together which helped me in the race. In my time here I'm glad I deliberately held back from trying to find a parish to do ministry, or to take on extra subjects too soon. Pacing myself allowed me to soak in the experience much better.
About a quarter of the way in I started to feel very comfortable. I'd found my pack of people to run with - keeping an eye on the girl with the yellow tshirt and the guy in the blue one ahead of me. Here in Chicago I soon found my place in a couple of groups of friends.
Halfway through I felt quite invincible, like I could just keep going forever. Midway through my time here in the US I thought I could quite happily stay here for years, if there was reason to.
But by about mile 10 I was starting to hurt, and would have loved to have snapped my fingers and been at the finish line. There were times around Easter this year when I could gladly have just jumped on a plane to come home too.
But at the last mile marker - #12, I felt renewed, and was able to push myself up a knotch and finish strongly. I could say the same for my last month or so here, that I've tried to stay planted here, not to live in the future, but being attentive to the present moment.
At at the end in the minutes after the run as I downed a litre of water and a couple of bananas it seemed like it had all ended too soon. As I enter into the final week here in Chicago, really just a week of farewell dinners, liturgies and presentations I think that I will get to the end and likewise think that it ended too soon.
But then I'll get home to my family, my friends, and my new parish, and it will be just as wonderful as it was to take off my shoes, have a shower, sit down and eat after the race!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Transition time
Last week I wrote that I have been resisting starting to sort out and pack my bags, because it would be a part of emotionally checking-out from Chicago. But last week we had three days of classes on "transition" which signalled an official start to the packing season.
My goal is to get everything back into the two suitcases I came here with. You probably know I like to travel light. Adam helped me move with a small truck from Toukley to Narraweena, but it only took me a couple of hatchback loads from Naraweena to St Ives, where everything I own (except for a couple of suitcases here!) sits in the corner of a spare room. I've managed to need less stuff, rather than more, over time, which is a nice side bonus of celibacy & priesthood. You don't need to own a fridge. People don't give you knick knacks. Technology helps too. Laptops are smaller than desktops. Who needs a shelf stereo when your computer plays CDs?
We are collecting clothes here for Burmese refugees in Chicago, via one of the college staff who is Burmese. So lots of clothes, especially the warmer stuff can go there. I've tried to resist buying books other than those I'm actually reading while here, even so, I seem to have bought quite a lot.
Also helping in minimising packing is summarising everything. I'm going through all my notes and typing summaries of all the good and practical stuff. It's great to review and remember everything. Lots of stuff makes more sense in hindsight, so my summaries are better than the original class notes.
So back to the transition class. It was a really helpful process. The first day was mostly personal reflection, writing responses to some questions which are targetted to how we will tell the story of this year when we get back home. Having journalled and blogged all year means that a lot of the words are pretty much on the tip of my tongue, but it's good to revisit the stories, even for myself. The second day was working with a partner in telling the story, then getting feedback from them, using observation techniques we've been learning this year to help identify where there is energy and what the key challenges are. The third day was a whole group session with each person invited to say what this class/group has meant to them this year.
This coming week will be lots of 'lasts' - last hamburger night, last poker night, etc.
My goal is to get everything back into the two suitcases I came here with. You probably know I like to travel light. Adam helped me move with a small truck from Toukley to Narraweena, but it only took me a couple of hatchback loads from Naraweena to St Ives, where everything I own (except for a couple of suitcases here!) sits in the corner of a spare room. I've managed to need less stuff, rather than more, over time, which is a nice side bonus of celibacy & priesthood. You don't need to own a fridge. People don't give you knick knacks. Technology helps too. Laptops are smaller than desktops. Who needs a shelf stereo when your computer plays CDs?
We are collecting clothes here for Burmese refugees in Chicago, via one of the college staff who is Burmese. So lots of clothes, especially the warmer stuff can go there. I've tried to resist buying books other than those I'm actually reading while here, even so, I seem to have bought quite a lot.
Also helping in minimising packing is summarising everything. I'm going through all my notes and typing summaries of all the good and practical stuff. It's great to review and remember everything. Lots of stuff makes more sense in hindsight, so my summaries are better than the original class notes.
So back to the transition class. It was a really helpful process. The first day was mostly personal reflection, writing responses to some questions which are targetted to how we will tell the story of this year when we get back home. Having journalled and blogged all year means that a lot of the words are pretty much on the tip of my tongue, but it's good to revisit the stories, even for myself. The second day was working with a partner in telling the story, then getting feedback from them, using observation techniques we've been learning this year to help identify where there is energy and what the key challenges are. The third day was a whole group session with each person invited to say what this class/group has meant to them this year.
This coming week will be lots of 'lasts' - last hamburger night, last poker night, etc.
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