I’ve written about farewells before and it’s no different now – they’re far from easy with that slight tinge of sadness and a little regret at not having done more or done better over the past years. Moving on to a different way of life can be daunting and the tendency would be to try to cling on to the comfort of what we’re used to. By eschewing the road commonly taken and going down the other, we give up the comfort of being with many others along the way and have to figure things out on our own. However, there’s also the joy of being down the road, seeking the fresh vistas and experiences that the less travelled road brings.

It’s a little disingenuous to wax lyrical about life changes seeing that part of this life change includes living apart from others more. Suffice to say that the journey ahead looks interesting albeit difficult and I’m happy to take a stab at it. The bags are packed and one is ready to go. It’s strange to say good bye over cyberspace when one is not quite sure if it is a goodbye.

I’m not entirely sure how often I’ll be able to update this so do check back once in a while. Will try to post an announcement or two about the updateability of things here within a couple of weeks. In the meantime, fare thee well and thanks for all the thoughts!

Think of the normal life-cycle of an urbanite – born, grow a little, go to pre-school, move up to primary school, get worried about exams because everyone else is, go to secondary school, get even more worried about exams, go to tertiary education, get more stressed. Move up to higher tertiary education/university, get less stressed and sometimes smashed. Get a job, complain about low pay and long working hours, find someone to spend your life with, get married, buy a place to live. Continue to complain about low pay and working hours while striving to maintain the mythical work-life balance. Have children, continue complaints. Watch children grow up, try to move to a bigger/better place. Get stressed about children in school (see above) and then get stressed when children grow bigger. Retire and hope that the low pay and long hours leaves enough for the rest of one’s days. Cue sunset and couple on beach gazing out to sea.

While there many may say that I’m making a gross generalisation, the lives of many can be variations on a similar theme. Just like Elgar and the Enigma but I digress. The problem or result of this life-cycle is the constant need to get ahead through the accumulation of wealth and the consequent want to get better pay to feed this need may lead to one getting stuck in a proverbial hamster wheel of work, bills to pay and the constant search for bigger hamster wheels that would lead to easier payment of bills. It all seems natural until one steps out and sees the possibility of something else.

I’m neither criticising nor condemning the life-cycle but I am advocating a recognition that it could be there and that we could be accepting something similar because of the societal norms around us. We’re often appraised by others based on the jobs we hold, the money we earn and when we get married or have children. My conscious stepping out of this to do what I will be doing reminds me that doing so makes me an ‘other’ and an occasional object of pity, friendly derision and respect – sometimes all at the same time. I’m almost proud to be counter-cultural (for once) and view the stepping out as the start of an alternate journey. The freedoms that one used to have are no longer there but the freedom from having to be in the normal race to complete the cycle.

Stepping out is the but the first part of a long journey. The irony is that the change that I’m heading towards could be another hamster wheel in itself but one is comforted that it’s a wheel less run too. More or less.

I wrote about cycling almost 2 years ago here and am compelled to do so again for similar reasons. There are things that one likes to do without being able to explain why that’s so. Riding bicycles is one of them for me. When pressed, I’d say that it’s because of the freedom that one gets from being out on the road, from the wind in your face and the freshness in the air if one gets out early enough. It could also be the endorphins that one gets after a good round of exercise or the sense of achievement in being able to go faster or further than one has ever done before. The reasons seem less important than the activity itself – the best way of knowing why people like me ride would be to actually do it and find out for oneself.

While on the road yesterday, I realised that there’s a certain purity to being on the bike with the elements. The constant rhythm of the legs, the hum of the chain on the gears and the wheels on tarmac, the fluid motion of the bike as it goes where we look, as if it were an extension of our bodies. It’s us on a human-powered machine against the elements and everything else out there. Detractors might say that running’s the same and purer because there’s no bike involved but there’s a beauty to the melding of man and machine here too no?

The point about being alone and at one with the elements was brought home quite clearly on my way home. It rained. Heavily. After waiting out at a bus stop for almost half an hour, I perceived a slight break in the weather and decided to brave the rain for the last 4km home. As my luck would have it, the clouds seemed to find more water just as I was halfway home and it felt like buckets were poured down. While it’s hard to wax lyrical about the cold, the painful pelting of raindrops and the scary slippery roads and brakes that don’t quite work so well, one does feel a closeness to the environment that we’re in and a new appreciation for things around.

The ride might be the last one with the bike (its an ’06 Specialized Allez Pro for the bike geeks out there) that’s followed me halfway round the world on races and has travelled with me on countless rides all over the island. It might seem strange to speak about a hunk of metal and plastic in such a way but then again, it has been a companion of sorts to many journeys I’ve had. It’s been good in any case and I look forward to riding more in different circumstances to come.

Same bike, same place. Pedal on!

I watched the movie ‘Up in the air’ on the plane last week and interesting as the movie was, the main theme of disassociating oneself from others and to live a life free of attachments. That made me think about the life that I’m going to be embarking on in a little while and how difficult that process can actually be. The protagonist in the movie was a highly successful executive who travelled so extensively that he didn’t quite have a place that he called home. He goes on to promote this need to live a life free of attachments before going through a Hollywood-styled change of heart. The idea of disassociation and attachment-free living was given a slightly off-kilter spin in the movie as the underlying assumption in the way things were portrayed was that we can’t quite live attachment-free lives because we want to be with others.

The comparison seems a little disingenuous to me as being free of attachments is not the same as living sterile lives away from human contact. We don’t want to be attached to stuff or get overly reliant on a particular feeling or emotion that has limited provenance but that does not mean that we cut ourselves off from feeling for others. It’s not easy walking the fine line between being attachment-free and turning away from others completely but I believe that that that’s going to be a bit of a challenge that I may be facing in time.

Back to the physical decluttering – the little garage sale of my stuff and books was a great exercise in letting go. I’ve accumulated a huge amount of stuff over the past years and there were a number of books and stuff that I’ve grown a little attached to as well. Apart from packing and stacking, a major part of the process included me steeling myself for letting go of everything and realising that the setting free of all the books that I had would be like spreading the gift of knowledge far and wide. Cheesy yes, but it helped and made me happy to see so many half-empty shelves by the end of the evening.

One reminds oneself that decluttering is not a one-off activity but something that should remain. Stuff is good – accumulating them is not. After all, how is one to be mobile and available to all if one is burdened by too many things?

The ‘stuff’ (sans books) pre-sale

Western Australia was very nice – picturesque and very peaceful. Perfect for us to drive round to sample the local produce, nose around the markets and generally immerse ourselves in all that it had to offer. Apart from the wine, chocolates and olive oil that we managed to lug back, we returned with great memories of a trip that we haven’t had for a long time.

It’s a little hard to write about the joy that one has when travelling as we did but I think a couple of pictures would do better. The colours of the first are brilliant (and unedited) and is a reminder of the calm and brilliance of all that we experienced Down Under. The second’s just a nice little sepia-ed shot of us at Kings Park in Perth just before heading to the airport. Till next time!

Waiting and the associated virtue of patience are often ignored in the rush of our ordinary lives. We want things done quickly, buses to come in 5 minutes and to be served as soon as our order is taken. Any ‘empty’ time represents minutes wasted and has to be filled with activities or things that can stimulate our senses. Holy Saturday takes this need to ‘do’ and forces us to wait instead.

When we look at the need to wait from a different perspective, Holy Saturday makes even more sense. When we think of children waiting for Christmas morning to open presents from their loved ones and think of a bride and groom anxiously waiting in quiet anticipation to take their vows we realise that when we wait for something that we’re looking forward to, there’s a good amount of eagerness and expectancy that comes along too. It is this for this reason that I like Holy Saturday for what it is – a time spent waiting in anticipation for the coming of Easter.

Click here for the more religious reflection. (Scroll to bottom)

Today is the last day of March which also coincides with my last day of formal employment  as an educator. For the time being. It was a strange day of farewells and thoughts about what the future holds that prompts one to the realisation that changes like today are but formal signposts to the more gradual changes that happen to us in life. I look back at the past years I’ve spent teaching and learning only to realise how much more of the latter I’ve done even though I was employed to do the former. The learning doesn’t cease – and I’m certain that much more of this will occur in the next phase what looks to be an interesting journey.

The 31^st of March came with a suddenness that surprised even me – the past month flew by without me realising where it went and I got the proverbial tap on the shoulder three days ago when I realised that I had a short time with which to pack, say goodbye and leave the place where I’ve grown quite comfortable being in. I realised how much of a pack-rat I am and the act of getting rid of things that should have been discarded long ago was a good reminder of how one does need to live more cleanly and simply. The giving away of stuff reminds me that we often have too much that we don’t need and should share this largess with others. The packing and leaving the desk and cubicle where I spent many days (and nights) working, thinking and spilling food and coffee was symbolic of the change that is to come. The time has come to move on.

Was asked many times how I felt today and wasn’t quite sure how to respond. There was a little sadness at leaving behind a place where I learned what it meant to be an educator, at leaving good friends and at bidding farewell to an institution that I grew alongside. There was also a certain lightness to the day as well – a lightness born of being free to move on to something that I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.

And so it’s happened – changes and a change that happened on this last day of March. Thirty to go.

Some writers have linked early man’s dabbling with primitive forms of religion as means of dealing with fear and uncertainty – we can’t really understand the unknown so we cook up supernatural means to explain those things away. While I could agree with this for a start, I’m aware that taking this to its logical conclusion would make some atheists very happy and many other people I know quite uncomfortable. But I digress…

While dealing with uncertain situations, we sometimes seek crutches to lean on and means of explaining why we’re in the state that we’re in. We sometimes forget that uncertainty is one of those annoying constants in our lives and how we deal with them determines how well we adjust to changes in life. I realised today after listening to a homily that we often hold ourselves back because of the fear that stems from uncertainty and lapse into the comfort of what we’re familiar with.

Standing on the precipice of significant change (and uncertainty), I too felt the fear that could be associated with things unknown but have grown to embrace it with a certain amount of trust, in myself and in the entire process that I will embark on. The more one fears, the more one will retreat into the comfort of what’s known and will never venture out. Shackleton famously set out from his icebound ship into the white unknown of the Antarctic – he conquered with endurance but had to face the spectre of failure and possible death in the inhospitable wilderness. But he did it anyway, stared fear in its ugly face and now sits in the history books as a man who led and explored without fear.

Franklin Roosevelt famously reminded us that ‘we have nothing to fear but fear itself’ and that rings true for all of us. We should stop ourselves from fearing  and start living. So we shall. Shouldn’t we?

It’s funny how one yearns and looks forward to something so much only to be at a loss as to hwo to deal with it when it actually does happen. I do realise that I’m being vague about things again but suffice to say that I’ve been at crossroads for a while and after having crossed them, I can see the path ahead fairly clearly but am still a little unsure as I take the first tentative steps down the road. People always tell you not to look back when embarking on something (Orpheus would have much to say about this), not to look down when you’re at a high place and to forge ahead when the opportunity arises. Easier said than done I say and it’s seems to be human nature to yearn for things that one is used to.

The pensiveness is starting again and as one looks towards the exciting yet daunting future, one realises that the oft quoted cliché about change being a constant does indeed ring true. One cannot help but worry about what is to come but at the same time recognise that things do sometimes happen for good reasons and change is no different.

100 more. The countdown begins – to change and a welcome newness.

With that in mind, I took an evening off a couple of nights ago to boldly step into a cinema, something that I haven’t done in almost half a year. I was determined to catch Pixar’s Up before it ended its run in the cinemas here. Even though one could easily wait for the video release – there’s something to be said for making the special trip to watch the show on the big screen. And I was glad to have made the trouble.

Going Up and getting out. (image from The New Yorker)

The show lived up to all the hype that surrounded it and more. It gave me the slight bump upwards that I felt I needed at this time and gave me much to think about at the same time. The plot’s pretty simple – a 78 year old widower ties thousands of balloons to his house to float it to ‘Paradise Falls’ in South America to fulfil the dreams that he and his wife shared. On the way, he picks up an over-enthusiastic boy Russell, who was part of a Boyscout-like Wilderness Explorer group, a huge bird-of-paradise and meets a bunch of talking dogs and a villain. Formulaic it may seem on the outset but definitely not in its execution.

**Warning – there be spoilers below!**

The one thing that struck me about the movie was the development of the characters and the subtle commentary about what one should do about one’s dreams. We should all have our hopes, dreams and ambitions but as with everything in the world, these dreams should not remain static in the light of things that change around us. Carl Frederikson started life admiring one Charles Muntz, explorer and adventurer extraordinaire – his meeting of his childhood hero later in his life started with wonder and incredulity but that too changed to horror and no small amount of disillusionment as he saw the darker side to Muntz’s adventuring. Carl dealt with it first by running away but that too led to repercussions as his younger friend Russell tried to take Muntz on alone. He too had to deal with the choice of freeing a friendly bird-of-paradise (to go back to her brood of chicks) from the clutches of Muntz or save his house from a fire set by the latter to distract Carl. He chose initially to save the house but Russell’s actions to go of on his own to save the bird

Carl soon realised that his own goals of putting the house atop the Falls as he had planned paled in comparison to the more pressing needs of the present. What followed was the action packed climax of the movie filled with improbable physics (how can a floating house overtake a powered blimp?), funny fights (two septuagenarians locked in hand-to-hand combat with swords and walking sticks) and poignant symbolism as well. Carl realised from looking at a treasured album that he shared with his wife that their dreams of ‘adventure’ though unfulfilled in the normal sense was fulfilled through a full life together. His letting go of the house symbolised his letting go of the baggage that he carried with it since the passing of his beloved wife. The image of the house falling to the ground was an apt one to show how Carl managed to let go of his grief at not being able to get there with Ellie, his wife.

In a roundabout way, the movie reminds us about finding what our hopes and dreams are based on. Quite often, we pursue the outward manifestation of what our innermost hopes and dreams are without thinking about the whys and the hows of this. Just as Carl just wanted to honour the memory and love of his wife by landing the house on Paradise Falls, we too do things to chase things that we desire or think to be important to us. But when faced with hard decisions and a re-examination of what was truly important, even Carl had to realise that saving his new found friends was the greater good when compared to setting the house on a particular place. His actions to save the Russell and the bird honoured Ellie far more than the house landing correctly. It was this letting go and setting himself free that also transformed Carl from an old curmudgeonly gent to a happier person.

Our hopes and dreams can be simple – boiled down to their essence most of us want happiness and a certain amount of fulfilment. I’ve had to make some hard decisions as to the direction I think my life is leading and while the decisions weren’t too hard to make, it was what happened after the decisions were made that made were harder. Up gave me a little nudge to remind myself of the essence of these decisions and how all things will lead to happiness and fulfilment. Only if I allow it to.