January, 2012

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Wakefullness

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

I probably won’t swim from Cuba to Florida in my lifetime.  I say probably because I don’t like to close doors.

I can understand, though, the need for an undertaking.  One that starts now, where I’m at, with an idea and then continues to grow there one step/decision/stroke at a time.  I’ve had a few already and they’ve taken many different forms: 40 Days on the mat, then 30, 3 years researching Educational/Information Technology Leadership, running 10k, becoming a teacher, taking on most of Alberta’s major cities, new jobs, new hair, new major/minors, French Immersions, 200m Individual Medleys, a Forum in Ottawa… I digress.

Undertakings, it turns out, can be stirred up by trips to Australia.  […and by Internet feeds].

And I’m yearning for one.  […just like I was yearning for a flight just before that Australia]

One I know I’m serious about because I started a binder.  …and the realized undertakings that have happened to date have almost always started with a binder and/or duotang. I’m not so naive to know that these next few months aren’t going to be pretty major and epic already as I wind-up the graduate degree but I’m also experienced enough to know that life doesn’t stand still as that happens either.

So stay tuned.  This week and next are yoga-filled.  As I prepare for and participate in Wild Lotus I hope some of the quiet, active, aware time provides some insight on undertaking-potential.  From there, conversations, creating, and committing.

Beginning, again.

YYC to YVR to SYD to CNS to SYD to YVR to YYC

Sunday, January 8th, 2012

I think it’s safe to say, here on the final leg of my Winter Break journey, that Sydney changed me.  While all trips have me-changing potential, I’d imagine, this one changed me in a world-opening, heart-opening, eye-opening, energizing, motivating, whoa-man kind of way.

I’m going to try, at some point, to write about the fireworks on the harbour in view of both the bridge and the opera house at.  The light and the music and the sounds are all a bit ineffable though.  I can tell you, though, they literally made me cry.

I’m going to try to write about SCUBA diving RIGHT at the Great Barrier Reef and seeing clown fish, among many, many others.  I was both more and less scared than I thought I’d be and could only guess that I’ll be SCUBAing again, and maybe even getting certified.  Why?  Well because I kind of felt like I was flying, and kind of feeling like that is a bit hard to match any other way.

While these two events are maybe stand-outs this trip wasn’t two experiences: New Years and the tropics.   This trip, from moment one was much much more than any one piece.

It was seeing the extra sunlight right from the plane window and the anticipation of taking it all in.
It was the many, many beaches.  The monopoly game (and victory!).
It was laughing non-stop.  It was knowing looks.
It was the night markets complete with relaxation.  And it was the micro-, mini- drama.
It was the food and indulgence.
The pools and the SPF and the sometimes missed spots.
It was the beach crawl and the waves and the rock pool and Bondi being so full I wondered if we’d find a spot.
It was the fear of sharks and later the fear of crocs and stingers.
It was actual. kangaroos.  Beetroot in our burgers.
It was the humidity of the rainforest and the crazy price discrepancies in boomerangs.
It was collapsing each and every night into a full sleep.
The music.  The familiar friends and the newer ones.  The learning that liquids are okay on domestic Australian flights.
It was Darling Harbour’s quirky little things like ping-pong tables and strange waterfall craters.
It was having an accent…  and having no real stress.  It was the confidence of having both in combination.
It was getting kicked out of pools at 7:00pm sharp.  It was not getting kicked out of pools when maybe we should have.
It was the opera house and the sunsets and the bats and the spiders.
It was the two beautiful ladies waiting for a tropical flower to bloom.
It was knowing which waves to go over and which to go under.
It was the sea turtle near our boat and dancing and having our champagne glasses never fall below half-way.
It was David and Scott.

It was all these things and the moments in between.  That remind me.  Of a planet and life, I’m awfully, awfully grateful for.  And for friends that make all things possible!

Now, how to best make use of some of this learning and energy and change before my tan fades until I can no longer feel the saltwater in my hair.  I can’t wait to reflect and share photos and write and remember to figure out the specifics of how.

But, yes, Sydney changed me.  I know that and I’m not even back in Calgary.  Yet.