can you see the lie?

I was at my retail job the other day, sitting in the tea room with some fellow colleagues engrossed in our many conversations. Slowly, the conversations began including a class of language which, in my opinion is very low in stature. The main culprit would be the commonly known ‘f’ word, of which I am most definitely not a fan. I raised my detest against the language and found myself in the firing range for what seemed to be oblique justification for those words... “It’s not a swear word”, they replied, and favourite response was “it’s just anatomy”.

I suddenly felt like that child who was raised in a traditional church setting, segregated from the “outside influence”, who when matured finds out that “the world” is more than just bad things.
But none the less, such expressions in my thought are synonymous to the primitive bashing of your brother’s head to gain domination of a clan in the primitive, Jurassic era. In other words, why use those words when this modern world is abundantly over-flowing with encyclopaedia’s and dictionary’s?

But more to the point of this blog, I can imagine you wondering, “what!? There’s more than the sharing of an anecdote?” Quite so, this reminded me of a book I began reading sometime ago, I got through the first few pages then resigned for reasons that will hopefully soon be clear. It was ambiguously describing internet pornography of many sorts, in such a way that you would not know that it was describing it till you read that is what you just read about... somewhat mocking the guilty feeling of disgust you receive by the end of it. Indeed this book was twisted and is definitely not going on my list of recommended reading.
But what fascinated me was the description of looking at a screen, it was described something along the lines of: You watch the picture pulled together by your mind to decide if what you’re watching is making you feel the way you are (yes it was that disconnected in the book). But then, are you watching what you’re really watching or is it just a collection of digital micro-pixels pieced together?
...it continued like this describing “the picture” as nothing but a collection of pixels that our minds piece together into whatever we want it to be... in turn attempting to justify its correctness in this society.

OK, so now that’s out there. I was comparing the justification of the “f” word (just a natural human act) earlier this week to the justification of watching internet porn which is “just a bunch of pixels”... I know that porn and let’s say ‘distasteful language’ are both frowned upon... I think they are downright bad, so why is it that when worded correctly they don’t seem bad? I believe what shocks me with these things is that the truth or an extension of reality has been intertwined with a lie, the lie ultimately being the justification of it.... in saying this, I wonder what else has been justified with a lie with a facade of truth and reality?

Of course, porn in comparison to intentionally letting the ‘f’ bomb out can be seen as greatly different, an over exaggerated comparison. But it proves that on either end, an extension of truth attempts to justify a lie.

Imagine the author of that book sitting smugly in his twisted, perverted chair thinking “it is what it is and there’s nothing you can do about it!” Perhaps I imagine this because in a world full of people, few are willing to stand up and see things as they really are...

Hmm still gathering thoughts on this...

My April

I continue to work at Kmart, which admittedly is becoming part of who I am. I found myself just the other day quoting the latest 30% off mother’s day discount in general conversation. I cannot begin to express the exciting developments that have formed within the store, suddenly people who have never spoken to each other are talking or minimally saying hello. Maybe suburban life can be more country-like than I first anticipated.

I had given up some time ago, habituated to the life and community of the Mornington Peninsula, where even strangers are pleasant, the local shops are welcoming and receiving, where it’s all about helping each other in the community. When I finished high school and gravitated towards city/suburban life I found myself alone in a part of the world I had neglected. Things are definitely different here, almost like two different countries within the one. Being constantly surrounded by people who find the day to day attitude and the flow of life so normal here, I find myself learning almost every day how to open up to this new world instead of just closing it out like I had done before... or more just closing out the parts that felt uncomfortable to me.
These insecurities I have, would probably also have something to do with the fact that I’ve never stayed somewhere long enough to become part of “the flow” or had anywhere to really call ‘home’. But staying in the same area has forced me to not just be that person that passes through town, but to become a person who is part of this community, who genuinely befriends people and is around long enough to be part of something.
New experiences lay before and behind, but I think I’m at a place mentally where I can tackle whatever comes my way.

In other news, after hunting down courses to jump into, I’ve found a Bachelor of Arts course which is reaching out to me. Unfortunately this means waiting to 2010 to start it, giving me 6+ months more of free-loading, J-walking, and more general shenanigans! So I’ve decided to dedicate these months to writing my autobiography. I was approached about a year ago to rewrite and publish the blog ‘unbeautiful’ as a book. I had thought about it but really wanted to wait it out till I had enough time to flesh it all out and research it all properly instead of just sticking together pieces of memories (the main constitution of Unbeautiful). So hopefully will have it done by November/December-ish and it will be thrice as good and successful as the blog.

Health-wise, things are going quite swimmingly with only a few hospital visits this past month.
The last test I did was an echocardiogram of my heart, which although sounds quite painless was quite painful to someone with a sensitive chest and neck. I was bruised for about a week after it... not so pleasant.
Also, I am reminded that on January 27th 2010, I will be celebrating my 10 year anniversary since starting chemo in 2000. Hoping to have a bit of a bash, but we’ll see how that goes :)

It’s been about a month now since I attended my last church service at Planetshakers City Church, partly due to business, working, and fatigue but also that my belief system has developed and changed greatly over these past few months. I believe that church is good, it helps and assists, however should never become the basis of my faith or the one factor that defines me as a Christian. I am so much more than the church I attend, I am my actions, my thoughts, what I do each night...
When I think about church and the direction of my life right now, they are two very different journeys. On one hand I’m learning how to be settled in this town and actually let people into my life but on the other, church is so distant, fast paced, detached and crazy big... no matter how many urban life groups you go to or how many “Planetshaker parties” you attend, it’s still detached... that’s just my opinion.
I want a settled life, people I can rely on and vice versa, relationships and friendships, I want to know that place everyone hangs out at on a Saturday night. I want one place, just one that I can call home.

I’m rather optimistic about May- July, because I can’t wait to see what I will learn and grow to become...

God; at what price?

In the early hours of this B.E.A utiful Thursday morning, I’m reminded of a conversation with someone who insisted that because of my triumphs over my negative experiences (abuse, cancer, depression, etc.) I should be extra thankful to God.

Now like most conversations, I usually let to mellow for a while before I tear it apart... yes, yes, I am one of those people who you cannot speak crap to because sooner or later I will think about it and call you out.

This really annoys me i’ve decided, not my tendancies, but the “friendly reminder” of all that God has done for me.

Before I continue I must state that I love God and Jesus like nothing else, we are homies to the death... well continuation of life. (The whole eternity thing)
But it’s like buying a coffee for a stranger or helping an old lady cross the road and then asking for something in return. God sure isn’t charging a daily fee, so why are we? Why is it that when we feel down and a little angry with God (as I do) that people insist on condemning us and making us feel worse by saying ‘God has done a lot for you (so shut up and be happy)’.

I know he’s done a lot for me, I’m still here aren’t I?!

To put it in perspective for you, if your relationship with God was like your relationship with a man (or woman), you saying that is like saying “honey, I know you just lost your best friend to the fire and I would help you but remember that time I comforted you when our baby died?”

Seriously, at what point do we take a step back and say “God will continue to do great stuff in your life, he’s there for you and always will be” because it’s not about making you sound good to God. Like “oh look God, I reminded her of all the stuff you’ve done for her”, instead of, “I told her that you’re there for her.”

Yes he has helped me through a lot, for that I am grateful. But even the bible admits that everyday brings a new challenge, a new problem, so isn’t it fitting that I should still need him to provide more? If He is my water, give me another cup. If He is my life, give me another day.
“I need you more, more than yesterday”

But It’s not because of my negative experiences of which I have triumphed that I am thankful, but the relationship He has with me, intimate and personal. It’s because no matter how negative things get He gives me a new, better day ahead... at absolutely no cost. He loves me when I don’t want to be... “RISK FREE”. So stop telling people to be thankful for what God has done, like they owe him for it and start installing the kind of faith that insists that God will continue to do more.

Hugh Jackman for Challenge

Hey there!

Do you have Twitter?

How about two minutes?

Hugh Jackman is donating 100k to any individual's non-profit organisation, all you have to do is convince him in 140 characters or less on twitter.

http://twitter.com/RealHughJackman/status/1519899038

'Challenge;Supporting kids with cancer' is an organisation that touches the lives of 100's of Melbourne families battling Cancer.Throughout the year they provide a number of varied services and comfort to not only the patient but the whole family throughout treatment and for years after.

Throughout my own treatment, Challenge gave my family and me so much love and support. Cancer isn't just a word that sounds bad, it's a life altering experience and often feels like a tunnel without an end. Challenge gives hope in those tough times by providing the best form of treatment, FUN. This includes movie days, camps, day trips, parent support and information, and lots of sugar!

All this is provided at absolutely no cost to the families.

This is a perfect opportunity to support one of Melbourne's greatest (if not the best) non-profit organisations. Get amongst it I say!

For more information on Challenge check out www.challenge.org.au

Something Good To say

The majority of us know at least one person who is so incredibly smooth with his or her words. Verbally or written the right words can do just about anything.

My strength lies in the written words; the letters, the sentences, the paragraphs all intricately sewn together to make a masterful and delightful piece of prose. But when it comes to verbalising these words or even saying “hi” to that hunk who works at Coles, it takes so much more effort, which often leads to a mumbling, blubbering mess that has two or three recognisable words. (A good achievement in my own books)

I was thinking today, if what I want to say is rarely said and what I verbalise is only part of it, how does that effect my persona in the world as a first reaction? What do people think when they hear what I have to say?

What I’ve noticed and know as true is that we live in a world where we don’t always get to say what we really mean. No, we only get the words we manage to mumble through our insecurities. The few words that can mean the world to an individual and nothing to someone else.

The solution is either to change the world and human nature, to begin asking and constantly reiterate ‘what are trying to say?’ or ‘what do you mean?’ to do your part in being a difference. OR, there is the easier (by theory) option of just thinking about what you’re saying, knowing that you’ll only say some of it, and then being sure that what you do verbalise represents you well. I think an important part of this is also to realise that we all have this problem in communication, not only when we verbalise ourselves but listen to someone else.

Of course, another option is to build a mind-reading machine and hope it ignores our most private and provocative thoughts... ah, indeed they will be good times!

Till that day, I will remain a mumbling and blubbering mess, whose strength will be in written words. But one who tries to make a difference with each and every mumble and blubber, acknowledging that things can only get better... and who knows maybe there will be four recognisable words next time!
x

Wednesday 4th March 2009

Since I last wrote to you, over a month ago, life has been dreadfully slow. I work two or three shifts a week at Kmart, a general retail store. The pay, the hours, and the people there are great... well good enough. It’s just, this is the longest I have ever spent not studying or committing to any long term responsibilities.

It’s unsettling just to know that between the night shifts, I have nothing to commit to, nothing to look forward to week after week. And it’s not like I haven’t been looking for work or something to study, but with the economic crisis no one is hiring an inexperienced almost 20 year old. My options for this year seem to be dim and quite narrow. I am stuck in a rut, hopeful for some ambition, motivation, and mostly inspiration to kick me in the butt to get me out of here.

Corryong

After four fantastic days off, I hit the road to Corryong for a five-day camp.

Mountains - Corryong

More Mountains on a crisp morning - Corryong

The first day started early, very early at the ‘Challenge House’ in Melbourne. Challenge is an organisation that supports kids with cancer. The excitement was growing as the group of 60 people boarded the coaches and began the hike north.

It’s a curious thing here in Melbourne, the blunt distinction between city-suburbia and the country. All you need to do is head an hour or two in any direction and you’ll see a clear difference in scenery. Corryong, in this case, is a small town literally on the border of Victoria and New South Wales about 5 hours away. It is the kind of place that one is forced to take two steps back and realize where you really are. Surrounded by wild mountains and farmland, it was easy to get lost from all that existed back home in the city.

When we arrived I felt partly excited, but mainly grateful to get off the stuffy coach. We were staying at the local caravan park, a property with cabins throughout it that bedded 6 people per cabin, there was a small pool out the front, a service station with really expensive fuel, and beyond that a view so beautiful you would think it was painted by angels.

We spent most nights there, except the second night where we camped under the stars at the Hogg’s farm. We spent our days at various activities in the local area, from lawn bowls to tubing in a dam to plane rides… there was little opportunity to get bored.

After a plane ride.

The Hogg’s farm, owned by the Hogg family, is a place I will never forget. We stayed by a river that divided Victoria and New South Wales, of course I took much joy in teasing the girls I was looking after about going interstate by crossing the river.

Khancoban Dam - so beautiful!

Another highlight was a 4-wheel-drive to Khancoban dam. Imagine a beach with clear waters surrounded by mountains… it was truly beautiful. There we did tubing, donuting, and other water related activities… generally a good day, however the first day that I discovered I had a tan-line on my shoulder (a rare occasion).

Elise and I in the process of food consumption

We returned to the caravan park on the third day where I discovered my new passion for frisbee, yes, I kicked butt.

We had a pool disco party on the fourth night, which was a new experience for me, but a good one at that. The last day we played water polo at a local pool, I had wet bathers on from the night before which held back my polo butt-whooping skills… it was tragic really. We didn’t win.

Everything else that was done was so much fun that by the time we had to leave, not even the great fatigue we all shared could keep us from saying it wasn’t worth it. The ride home was long and hot, I dreamt of Corryong (and grilled cheese sandwiches), hoping to one-day return…

Sunset before a disco pool party :)