You would think that I have a medical condition called immigrationis or something, because every time I have been to see a doctor in Australia, all my symptoms add up to one explanation - the stress of being an immigrant. And you know what? I know I'm fresh of the boat, but hey, not every medical symptom can can be explained this way!
So today I go to the doc, because my ear hurts. It's been hurting for two weeks, but I've been too hesitant to go to the doc as it could just be a case of immigrationis. While I'm there I mention that my womanly clock has also been out. First off he tells me, that the womanly trails definitely can be attributed to... you guessed it, immigrationis! Then somewhere between taking my blood pressure and telling me that I should remember to use contraceptives when having affairs (a hole other post in itself!) he seems to remember about my ear.
I was so relieved to hear (excuse the pun), that I do have another condition other than the I-condition. I have ear infection. I could almost fall on my knees and weep of joy, but then he said; 'I don't think we will treat it with antibiotics, but you can take paracetamol for it. It should clear up on it's own.'
In the end I paid $108 for a 20 min stressed out doctors visit, and I go away thinking, I should have just swallowed a disprin. AND my ear still hurts.
Dec 7, 2010
Dec 6, 2010
Making sense
6 December 2010
Rob Bell says; 'There is greatness in you. Courage. Desire. Integrity. Virtue. Compassion. Dignity. Loyalty. Love. It's in there - somewhere. And sometimes it takes suffering to get at it.'
That is what this blog is about. The continuous chipping away to get to the core. I want my writing to be a journey of self exploration. By thinking hard about subjects and by writing my thoughts about them I somehow find myself making sense of things and in the process discovering myself. Sometimes I think because my right brain has completely taken over I have no left brain left (excuse the pun). The stuff that goes on in my head is all flowery and emotional and nothing ever gets ordered. It's like all these ideas float around in my head, bumping against each other making me even more confused.
Here's the issues I have floating around at the moment:
Rob Bell says; 'There is greatness in you. Courage. Desire. Integrity. Virtue. Compassion. Dignity. Loyalty. Love. It's in there - somewhere. And sometimes it takes suffering to get at it.'
That is what this blog is about. The continuous chipping away to get to the core. I want my writing to be a journey of self exploration. By thinking hard about subjects and by writing my thoughts about them I somehow find myself making sense of things and in the process discovering myself. Sometimes I think because my right brain has completely taken over I have no left brain left (excuse the pun). The stuff that goes on in my head is all flowery and emotional and nothing ever gets ordered. It's like all these ideas float around in my head, bumping against each other making me even more confused.
Here's the issues I have floating around at the moment:
- The kids are off to school in the new year and suddenly I have a big chunk of spare time - (I've been waiting to get my life back, but now that it is happening I don't know what to do with it.)
- I've got too many ideas - (I want to paint, write, make movies, teach and the list goes on.)
- I'm in a new country! - (I am still adjusting, trying to get what this place is about.)
- I can't just be at home cleaning 24/7 - (I have to have purpose, or else I'll go mad)
- I need to serve more - (I want to do more good, be better, be of use)
Dec 3, 2010
The gift
3 December 2010
So tonight I am a bit tired. I have found the cure for all insomniacs! Get more kids, especially the two year old ones, they work best. You see U2 is in the country and our friends asked if we could babysit their little angel for the night.
Your first thought would be that they drove me insane, right? Though it hardly was the case. My kids are at the age where they are the perfect little helpers when babysitting. They were exemplary and very good at making whatever they do everyone's focus. Our visiting angel, Melissa was even better. Sweet as honey and so well behaved.
But here's the thing. She is so tiny and so brave, that I was an awed spectator. At age two she just once asked for her mommy although I sensed that the question was foremost in her mind. I feel honored to receive the trust of such an innocent. She looked at me with those chocolate brown eyes and and my heart would melt. It was as if she wanted to say; "I know your not my mommy, but I am willing to give you a chance". What a rare gift it is to be trusted by one so little?
It wakes me up to think that sometimes I take the trust my own kids bestow on me for granted. I think the weight of that trust fell on me tonight (together with keeping a constant watchful eye of course...) and that somehow gave me the gift of just being DEAD TIRED. Hallelujah.
So tonight I am a bit tired. I have found the cure for all insomniacs! Get more kids, especially the two year old ones, they work best. You see U2 is in the country and our friends asked if we could babysit their little angel for the night.
Your first thought would be that they drove me insane, right? Though it hardly was the case. My kids are at the age where they are the perfect little helpers when babysitting. They were exemplary and very good at making whatever they do everyone's focus. Our visiting angel, Melissa was even better. Sweet as honey and so well behaved.
But here's the thing. She is so tiny and so brave, that I was an awed spectator. At age two she just once asked for her mommy although I sensed that the question was foremost in her mind. I feel honored to receive the trust of such an innocent. She looked at me with those chocolate brown eyes and and my heart would melt. It was as if she wanted to say; "I know your not my mommy, but I am willing to give you a chance". What a rare gift it is to be trusted by one so little?
It wakes me up to think that sometimes I take the trust my own kids bestow on me for granted. I think the weight of that trust fell on me tonight (together with keeping a constant watchful eye of course...) and that somehow gave me the gift of just being DEAD TIRED. Hallelujah.
Dec 2, 2010
The waiting game
2 December 2010
While our Immigration application was being processed, it perpetually felt like I was sitting in the doctor's waiting room. Everything was on hold. You kind of didn't want to get too involved in anything, because pretty soon your name will be called and then you would have to gather your stuff and go through the door.
During this time I was afraid to commit to anything. We couldn't get a pet, we couldn't paint the house, we couldn't change schools etc. We just had to wait it out.
So now we are here and some days it feels like my balloon got popped. So what now? We are here aren't we? What's next? I find myself taking comfort in the habit of holding back. So today I suddenly registered that although I am waiting upon God and trusting Him in certain areas of my life, it doesn't mean my life isn't happening. The small things go by, unnoticed, if you aren't attentive.
Whether I am cleaning house, picking up kids or getting soaked by a Mebourne shower, life speeds by. If I am not careful, I might just miss the best parts of it.
While our Immigration application was being processed, it perpetually felt like I was sitting in the doctor's waiting room. Everything was on hold. You kind of didn't want to get too involved in anything, because pretty soon your name will be called and then you would have to gather your stuff and go through the door.
During this time I was afraid to commit to anything. We couldn't get a pet, we couldn't paint the house, we couldn't change schools etc. We just had to wait it out.
So now we are here and some days it feels like my balloon got popped. So what now? We are here aren't we? What's next? I find myself taking comfort in the habit of holding back. So today I suddenly registered that although I am waiting upon God and trusting Him in certain areas of my life, it doesn't mean my life isn't happening. The small things go by, unnoticed, if you aren't attentive.
Whether I am cleaning house, picking up kids or getting soaked by a Mebourne shower, life speeds by. If I am not careful, I might just miss the best parts of it.
Dec 1, 2010
Master Class
1 December 2010
Melbournians have a real affinity towards cooking. It is one of the first things you realise when you come here. This is a city about food. Take for example the religious following the TV show MasterChef has built up. Sundays while on air most of the city would come to a standstill and Monday it would be abuzz with the latest developments.
Last night while lying awake in bed I kept thinking about my life and my own inability to take a hint. I am at a stage in my life where you would think that I would be the one to teach a Master Class. Now if you know the MasterChef series you would know that the Master Class is where the more experienced teach others their unique and sometimes secret recipes. Recipes gained through years of experimentation and failures.
So through the years God has always been there. I know the footprints in the sand story is corny, but hey HE HAS BEEN THERE. So you would think that with all my experience, experimentation and failures, I should have the recipe down. That I would be a Master in the trusting-God-department.
But here I am like a TV show fledgling still doubting my experience. He has never left or forsaken me, so why do I still find myself trying to figure things out on my own instead of trusting in Him? Why does the idea that I am not in control still sit uncomfortably with me? Don't I deserve to leave the show yet?
So, isn't it ironic that God stays my most loyal supporter and He has not once tried to vote me off?
Melbournians have a real affinity towards cooking. It is one of the first things you realise when you come here. This is a city about food. Take for example the religious following the TV show MasterChef has built up. Sundays while on air most of the city would come to a standstill and Monday it would be abuzz with the latest developments.
Last night while lying awake in bed I kept thinking about my life and my own inability to take a hint. I am at a stage in my life where you would think that I would be the one to teach a Master Class. Now if you know the MasterChef series you would know that the Master Class is where the more experienced teach others their unique and sometimes secret recipes. Recipes gained through years of experimentation and failures.
So through the years God has always been there. I know the footprints in the sand story is corny, but hey HE HAS BEEN THERE. So you would think that with all my experience, experimentation and failures, I should have the recipe down. That I would be a Master in the trusting-God-department.
But here I am like a TV show fledgling still doubting my experience. He has never left or forsaken me, so why do I still find myself trying to figure things out on my own instead of trusting in Him? Why does the idea that I am not in control still sit uncomfortably with me? Don't I deserve to leave the show yet?
So, isn't it ironic that God stays my most loyal supporter and He has not once tried to vote me off?
Nov 30, 2010
I'll sleep when I'm dead
30 November 2010
Ok, so it's 10pm and I am wide awake. My husband thinks I might be transforming into a vampire, which is his only explanation for my changing sleeping patterns. But seriously, I have hoped that somehow my time-ticker would have settled back into its old patterns. But no, here I am late at night and I still feel as though I've got jet-lag. The fact that the sun only goes down at 9pm surely doesn't help.
My current insomnia is fueled by three things. Firstly Bella's firm insistence that her duvet has to cover her bed in a neat manner, during all hours of the night. Secondly our neighbors never seem to arrive home before 12pm and fail to let us know it. And then thirdly there's my growing arachnophobia. You see, in Australia, spiders actually do kill, so one can never be unprepared.
In my nightly travels I have encountered a numerous amount of these eight-legged creatures. Somehow they feel the need to sneak about after hours. This seriously freaks me out, so at night I tread carefully and always, always switch on the lights. This in turn makes me even more awake. But after I drowned the sucker in Raid, I do feel much better. I could almost fall asleep.
But you know what? Being here and not sleeping is still better than sleeping with one eye open, waiting for the alarm to go.
Ok, so it's 10pm and I am wide awake. My husband thinks I might be transforming into a vampire, which is his only explanation for my changing sleeping patterns. But seriously, I have hoped that somehow my time-ticker would have settled back into its old patterns. But no, here I am late at night and I still feel as though I've got jet-lag. The fact that the sun only goes down at 9pm surely doesn't help.
My current insomnia is fueled by three things. Firstly Bella's firm insistence that her duvet has to cover her bed in a neat manner, during all hours of the night. Secondly our neighbors never seem to arrive home before 12pm and fail to let us know it. And then thirdly there's my growing arachnophobia. You see, in Australia, spiders actually do kill, so one can never be unprepared.
In my nightly travels I have encountered a numerous amount of these eight-legged creatures. Somehow they feel the need to sneak about after hours. This seriously freaks me out, so at night I tread carefully and always, always switch on the lights. This in turn makes me even more awake. But after I drowned the sucker in Raid, I do feel much better. I could almost fall asleep.
But you know what? Being here and not sleeping is still better than sleeping with one eye open, waiting for the alarm to go.
Nov 29, 2010
A case of the Mondays
29 November 2010
Here's a new thought: Mondays suck on almost any continent. The only difference is that my Monday start to suck at least nine hours before that of my South African family. So here I am in a new country where my whole world has been turned upside down, but - Hey guess what?! Mondays still stayed the same! Still the same mundane, tedious start to a new week, with one exception though. Now I do all the housework as well. I struggle to contain my excitement on this topic.
Way back in South Africa when I told my domestic worker we are planning to move to Australia, she had only one question for me, and I must admit she asked it with a bit of wonder in her voice. Her question was this; "Who is going to do all the housework for you?"
I, of course in my great white confidence replied; "Well I am." You see it is easily imaginable. I am a most capable woman. I can do anything I set my mind to. So we have been here 5 months and I am doing all the housework in our new home. But I do miss Sophie.
I miss her for the following reasons:
1. How the hell did she get the tomato-stains out of the kids clothes?
2. Ironing, Ironing, Ironing and once more Ironing.
3. The fact that my bathrooms were hair free.
4. Egyptian cotton duvet covers crinkle much more than the store assistant told me
5. Tea doesn't make itself
6. The kids don't wipe up the splatters of toothpaste around the washbasin.
7. The damn vacuum cleaner is HEAVY.
But you know what... I have realized that I miss Sophie most of all for this reason: I loved her dearly and the absence of a loved one in our family left a gaping hole. May you find a family to bless elsewhere, my dear Sophie. We will always remember you fondly.
Here's a new thought: Mondays suck on almost any continent. The only difference is that my Monday start to suck at least nine hours before that of my South African family. So here I am in a new country where my whole world has been turned upside down, but - Hey guess what?! Mondays still stayed the same! Still the same mundane, tedious start to a new week, with one exception though. Now I do all the housework as well. I struggle to contain my excitement on this topic.
Way back in South Africa when I told my domestic worker we are planning to move to Australia, she had only one question for me, and I must admit she asked it with a bit of wonder in her voice. Her question was this; "Who is going to do all the housework for you?"
I, of course in my great white confidence replied; "Well I am." You see it is easily imaginable. I am a most capable woman. I can do anything I set my mind to. So we have been here 5 months and I am doing all the housework in our new home. But I do miss Sophie.
I miss her for the following reasons:
1. How the hell did she get the tomato-stains out of the kids clothes?
2. Ironing, Ironing, Ironing and once more Ironing.
3. The fact that my bathrooms were hair free.
4. Egyptian cotton duvet covers crinkle much more than the store assistant told me
5. Tea doesn't make itself
6. The kids don't wipe up the splatters of toothpaste around the washbasin.
7. The damn vacuum cleaner is HEAVY.
But you know what... I have realized that I miss Sophie most of all for this reason: I loved her dearly and the absence of a loved one in our family left a gaping hole. May you find a family to bless elsewhere, my dear Sophie. We will always remember you fondly.
Nov 26, 2010
I will blog...
Thursday 26 November 2010
In being quiet I have realised, that you have to start to put what is in your head, out there. The loneliness inside me has to become something useful. So now I am writing a blog, a way to force me to commit to becoming better. I want to be here in this moment, instead of peering into the horizon in the hope that something will come up. I refuse to fade away into self-pity and despair. I wil blog and it will be great!
In being quiet I have realised, that you have to start to put what is in your head, out there. The loneliness inside me has to become something useful. So now I am writing a blog, a way to force me to commit to becoming better. I want to be here in this moment, instead of peering into the horizon in the hope that something will come up. I refuse to fade away into self-pity and despair. I wil blog and it will be great!
About Quietness
Tuesday 23 November 2010
There’s healing to be done. I have come to realise this. Moving a family from one continent to another is like cutting out you heart with a blunt pair of scissors. It hurts. Like hell. A lack of words seem to have become a common thing for me. I have no words to describe the way I feel, the loneliness I face. I am surrounded by new-found friends who care and reach out, but the loneliness is stuck on my insides. It exists only in my head.
Today I read a piece in Ecclesiastes - Better is a handful of quietness than two hands full of toil and a striving after wind. So today I have decided that I will be quiet and listen to what God is whispering around me. This is a new start, but also the end of what has passed. I think to start quietly may perhaps prove to be wise.
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