The Power of Presence

I’ve been plagued with questions about whether I am still blogging and if so, why I am neglecting my cyberspace residence.  I apologize deeply for my neglect but yes I am still writing, just at an icicle melting pace apparently (don’t forget it’s winter here, which does mean hibernation laziness but doesn’t equal to any icicle formation at all).  It isn’t really possible to catch up with all my activities since (gulp) May?  So let’s just cut to the chase and I’ll write down the meat of the matter-the power of presence.  This thought has been circulating my mind for some months now.  In fact, I remember telling Leah some weeks ago I would be blogging on this subject.  Well here it is my dears.

            My baby sister, Juli, graduated from high school at the end of May (and she just moved into college a few days ago….the last hatchling to fly the nest!…kind of).  My mum’s (going Australian on this one) parents drove in for the festivities from California.  After the hustle and bustle of the weekend, my grandparents and parents booted up Skype and paid me a virtual visit.  To behold their presence on my computer was a bit overwhelming for me and rendered my dear grandmother to gentle tears.  I hadn’t seen them, at that time, in over a year and a half.  It may have just been my computer reconstructing their faces and voices, but the whole experience blessed my heart for days.

            The power of presence astounds me.  It’s not even particular to the presence of people either.  Ever since I was a little girl, darkness has frightened me.  My imagination shaped every shadow into a menacing face and every noise into a threatening monster.  At nighttime, I didn’t just insist on a night light, but a full fledge supernova lamp turned on.  The presence of light brought me comfort, an assurance that a bad dream or strange noise would be greeted by cheery beams bouncing onto all my books and dolls.  I’m not too proud to admit that even now as a twenty five year old there are nights I still leave the light on if I don’t feel brave enough.  (I must add as an aside here, though, that when I’m surrounded by others who are also frightened, like the three kids I nanny for, I put on my superhero bravery and punch back big bad dark.  Funny that, eh?  When I’m called into bravery for others, I rise to the occasion.)

            I’m reminded of the power of presence whenever I see Tara after a stint of time away.  There is something extremely restful about being in the presence of someone who knows your back-story and holds significant history with you.  The two of us communicate in a special language with inside jokes and anecdotes, victories and hurts.  It’s as if there is less energy needed to be myself when I am with a good mate.  The phone or email or texts or Facebook cannot replicate the facial expressions, touch, and word combo that exist between the two of us in person. 

Another beautiful power with presence is how it can bring relaxation and pleasure even when the people involved are in the same place but doing separate activities.  Merely existing in the same room with Kreton, even if we aren’t interacting, blesses me.  It is the knowledge that someone who deeply cares about you is nearby, at arms length.  His presence is comfort, like my well-worn, well loved, deliciously warm Uggs.  During my long days, I miss the warmth of his presence.

            It has been over six months since I left for my adventure in Australia and that is officially the longest time I’ve been without seeing my immediate family and close friends.  Their presence has become a memory I hang onto.  I know they are with me in spirit (and often in email, text, skype, prayers, etc.)  It is a trust I hold between them and I, that our special languages aren’t lost but will merely need to be brushed up on when we are physically together again.  Sometimes, those memories are what bolster me up when I feel a twinge of homesickness.  They swell my heart and give me courage to forge ahead on the good path before me, even if the path doesn’t bring me their physical presence at the moment.

            There have been many beautiful times I have felt God’s presence in my life.  Dancing with my friends, laying below the immense night sky, a hug after a disheartening day, beholding an answered prayer, looking into the eyes of a loved one and the list of thin places goes on and on.  Yet, sometimes I do not feel His presence.  You all know what I’m talking about.  It is the times when I feel God is silent, when life is overwhelming and the times of heavenly rightness are few and far between.  This doesn’t mean He isn’t there.  Like with my family and friends, His faithfulness warms me and provides me with superhero bravery to punch back life’s battles. My family and friends are supporting me, helping me to have the best of life, even though it is more behind the scenes at the moment.  God, also, is working behind the scenes at these times.  I hold the memory of His past blessings and wait in anticipation for when a new thin places brings me close to His presence again.

            I’m planning to trek back to my homeland in January/February (with Kreton!). And believe me, the presence of all my Stateside loved ones will be a thin place for sure.  But don’t worry; there is much presence here that is giving my life a supernova lamp.

*Important/fun events since I’ve last blogged (in no particular order):

-Went to the circus

-Saw an acrobatic show at the Opera House

-Spent a lovely spring day at the beachy town of Terrigal where Kreton came to my rescue

-Got really into the show “Big Bang Theory” (kudos Kreton)

-Applied for and was accepted into Grad school in Australia (whether it is the best decision for me to go this next year is yet to be decided! Prayers are much appreciated.)

-Made lots of cakes for birthdays for the Mulcahy boys

-Tara’s birthday!!!!!!

-Went to the musical “Wicked” with Kreton

-Went on holiday to the Gold Coast with the Mulcahy family (yeah roller coasters!)

-Met and spent time with some wonderful people through Cityside/Shirelive

-Went to live music performed by Band of Horses, The Magic Numbers, and Angus and Julia Stone

-Walks, shopping, and exploration

-My usual Skyping with dear ones, including joining some of my uni friends for a dinner. (skype me!)

          I’m absolutely sure I’m forgetting things!  Hopefully this is a good amount of update for everyone.  As always, your updates and communications bless me immensely!  Let’s keep all of our “languages” alive people ;)

Hugs,

Joy

11:11

             I remember the night Kreton and I decided to officially be together (who wouldn't, right? :) ).  It was filled with excitement.  We talked.  We laughed.  We looked upon the other with amazement.  We didn’t want to leave, even though the night grew old.  Kreton asked me the time.  I glanced at the clock and responded “11:11.”  He grinned.  He asked if I knew what that meant.  I thought it was a time when you make a wish, much like seeing a shooting star or blowing away a fallen eyelash.  Kreton explained how he was told that some people believe that if a person sees 11:11, then he or she is exactly where he or she is suppose to be at that moment.  Some people even think that spiritual guides are wanting us to realize that moment is of great significance, that they are present.  Yeah it gave me chills.  The good kind.  The kind when you feel an incredible “rightness.”  It allowed me to take a brief moment to step back from the whirlwind of experience and reflect on its incredible blessing.

            Since that moment a couple of months ago, I’ve been catching 11:11 often.  I saw it in the car after a fun night at the movies with Kreton and new friends.  Another time when Jason was talking with me about how the little boys were doing with the loss of their mum.  One time, my mobile fell out of my pocket and Kreton retrieved it.  The screen displayed the 11:11.  Perhaps my brain is seeking it out.  Perhaps the pattern catches my eye. Perhaps it is coincidental.  Or perhaps 11:11 indicates a blessed time.

            Blessed time.  11:11 has touched me because it illuminates the experience I’m in, giving me a chance to be thankful, hopeful, loved.  The beautiful thing is I don’t have to wait every 12 hours.  11:11 happens to me when Hamish laughs uncontrollably at my antics.  It happens when Andy and I celebrate his mum at preschool (Andy asked me to be his guest of honor for Mother's Day) or Matt gives me a hug when I pick him up (and believe me a tired Kindergartner isn't always so hug ready!).  It happens when I hold Tara’s hand while we’re listening to soul quenching music.  It happens when I see and talk to my grandma and grandpa on Skype, after a year and a half of not seeing each other.  It happens when I see Kreton’s brown eyes light up from the brilliance of his boyish grin.  Taking a moment to soak in the sacredness of the time at hand doesn’t need to wait for the flashing clock.

            Living and working in the Mulcahy household has taught me about moving forward amongst tragedy.  At times there is nothing but questions.  Jason told me just today, as we talked about the toll cancer can take, that once you have children, your life desires change from “you” to wanting to see your little ones grow up.  The fight is bigger than yourself.   And so there may not be answers but most certainly there is love.  He moves forward for his boys, with them, to give them 11:11.  I have not entered parenthood yet.  But there is much to discover at my current life stage too.  There are questions, there are new desires, there is love.  Life can be routine.  Life can be unfair. Life can be taken. We all have felt it, seen it, know it.  Perhaps that is why 11:11 has become an important part of my story of late.  It reminds me to take a step back and see life’s vitality, its heartbeat, its new beginning, even amongst the tragedy, the hard times.  I haven’t blogged in awhile but I have been working on what it means to be living.  Thank you all for doing life with me.  May you all share in seizing the day and, once more, may it be a time when your eye catches 11:11.

A Sprinkling of Stories

It is nice to know that when I am absent in my blogging I have people that will remind me of my negligence.  In all reality, I like to write when I am inspired to do so and I haven’t found a subject to blab about.  So, while I’m itching to write, I still don’t have a solid topic to entertain you’s with.  This blog I feel might be a bit all over the place with random thoughts and observations.

Observations and Stories of Aussie Land:

1. I live in the suburbs.  Suburbia is suburbia the world over.  Homes.  Lawns.  Shops.  More cars.  Less public transport.  Something really sweet about the suburbs here are the uniqueness of the homes in the neighborhoods.  Unlike the States, every home here has its own unique look.  There isn’t the repeat floor plans and carbon copy exteriors found so commonly found back home.  It’s funny because some people like to joke how “communist” Australia is but really the U.S.’s suburbia suggests the blasé uniformity of communism more. (Wow.  See random sidenote!) I enjoy the beauty of suburban neighborhoods here.  Creeks and foliage dot the landscape too.  I like my current home.  The only major strike against it is the fact that I have to travel about an hour to the city center, to visit Tara or Lisa or other mates.  Also, the nearest train station is a fifteen minute drive.
2. By now, I rarely “hear” accents.  But there are a few things that give away I’m living in the next continent over.  Aussies’ like using the word “proper” or “properly.” As in, that is a proper car or I exercised properly.  Also, the word “can’t” sounds very British.  And of course there is the shortening of every word possible.  Rego for registration.  Scripts for prescriptions.  Raw raw raw for etcetera etcetera etcetera.  It makes for quite a few moments of “you are speaking English, right?”
3. I no longer am nervous about driving “backwards” here.  It is quite natural for me to whip around on the left side.  However, autopilot does catch me out. Just last week, I was deep in my thoughts pulling out of the post office parking lot.  I immediately turned right into the nearest lane.  Snapping out of my daydreaming came abruptly when I realized I was going to be playing chicken with a few cars  in the matter of seconds.  With a quick over the shoulder glance I swerved dramatically to the left lanes. Thankfully no cars inhibited my unconventional entry!!! 
4. My other car adventure involved the three little Mulcahy boys and me.  We were driving to and from the city last Wednesday to deliver keys to Jason that he needed for his car.  I proceeded to twice exit incorrectly from the motorway, both times after I had just hung up my mobile from talking with Jason (by the way using your mobile while you’re driving unless it is handless is illegal in Sydney…).  The phone call distracted me enough that I was unable to multi-task following the signs of where I needed to go.  Perfect example of why mobiles are banned for use while driving!!!  The second incorrect exit took me in the under city tunnel instead of over the Sydney Harbor Bridge.  I landed out into the heart of Sydney’s Red Light district, King’s Cross.  I jokingly quipped to Jason on the phone, who was giving me directions back to his place of work, that I was giving his boys an “education.”  Luckily, Jason upholds the Aussie values of easygoingness and a great sense of humor!  I had to fight downtown traffic all my way back to where I was suppose to be in The Rocks district of Sydney’s CBD.  People walked faster than I was driving.  The little ones took it well, even after I told them in a very stressed out tone that I couldn’t talk to them until I figured out where I was going.  Don't worry they were rewarded in Easter chocolate and lunch with Daddy!
5. I continue to bond with my little charges.  Hamish has blessed me with a couple true cuddles of late.  He fully puts his little arms around my neck and nuzzles his head into my shoulder, as I hug him back.  Of course this is usually right after I rescue him from the boredom of his crib or play pen, so I'm not sure if it is out of love as much as it is glee from being released from his current prison!  It makes my day every time anyway!  Matt and Andy continue to surprise me with their moments of little boy vulnerability and sweetness.  I don’t think I’ve been told or tell any boys I love them as much as we tell it to each other!  Andy’s preschool teachers told me the other day when I picked him up that he talks about me all the time.  Absolutely that tidbit lit up my face for the rest of the day.  I’ve gotten in the habit of not turning on the radio for my rides with the boys because they always have stories and observations of their worlds.  Andy asked me on Friday, “Joy, what do satellites do?”  Yeah.  He’s three.  How do you explain what satellites do in language a 3 year old understands?  How does he even know what satellites are in the first place?  After I explained to the best of my ability about the ones that orbit the earth in space, he then goes on to clarify that he was talking about the ones on towers.  Yeah.  Sweet.  Our conversation carried us all the way home!
6. A large part of my life this last month has been figuring out how this whole seriously committed relationship thing works.  So far I’ve decided it makes me very happy and it keeps me on my toes!! …the more the effort, the greater the reward J For those of you who read my blog but I’m not lucky enough to talk to regularly, here is the rap sheet on my wonderful Aussie partner in crime.  His name is Kreton Israel.  No, he isn’t Jewish….rather half Greek, half Lebanese and full Australian, as we say.  He does speak Greek with his mum!  He currently is doing his Honours Year at Uni in Maths (sort of equivalent to Masters but still a bit different).  We met through our friends Tara and Riaaz the first time I was in Australia.  There are many, many things I am attracted to about him but I won’t make anyone puke with too many girly gushings.  A few attributes that come to mind almost immediately are his intelligence (helloooo Maths!), his logical/sensory perspective of the world (often very different from my own!), his strength, boyish grin, humor, and his deep care for people.  He treats me well and I’ve discovered new things about myself through being with him (like my need for breathe mints and my unreal constant restroom usage...better that than peeing my pants I say!!!!).  Now I’m sure all of you are thinking “when do we get to meet this fabulous catch with a gorgeous Aussie accent?”  Hopefully someday!

While I am certainly enjoying my time here, I do think of my dear ones back home often, wishing to teleport back for weddings, graduations, proms, girls' nights, chats about the mystery of life, raw raw raw….I find I am incredibly blessed to have many places to be at once, with many people with whom love is shared.  Home is a wondrously transient entity for me.  It’s built upon my kindred spirits, my loves.

Please fill free to bring “home” to me anyway you possibly can!  Skype, letters, emails, calls, Facebook messages, texts, VISITS are all much appreciated!

XoXo Your Joy!

P.S. A special note to Joshy and Becky.  May you be blessed in your love and may it continually flow out, working wonder in those around you.  Congratulations in your very soon marriage kick off day!!!!!

Contentment Lives!

Not only do I share my place of living with three young boys and their father, I also have one black lab puppy, two cats, and two fish to boot.  Thankfully no birds!!! Those who know me well, know that due to some unfortunate family pet allergies and weird, creepy animals taking the place of the more typical fanfare, I have come to view most animals as unpredictable creatures.  I appreciate their place in our world—from a distance.  I don’t normally sit down too often during my days or my nights, trying to keep busy, but when I do, guaranteed the cats will find me for a full body rub down.  Sheba even goes as far as to move her head wherever you hand travels and literally head butts you into petting her.  H.G. curls up in your lap and stays for a marathon cuddle.

One night, Kreton laid all curled up with H.G. and both of them were purring with contentment.  If my personality could be encapsulated in an animal, it would have to be these cats, for contentment describes my general being of life at the moment.  Not to mention, I don’t turn down a cuddle very readily either!

Each day provides me with more reason to be thankful.  I truly feel like part of the Mulcahy family.  This weekend I stayed in Blacktown instead of venturing into the City but I was still in and out of the house.  As I flew out the door on Saturday afternoon, both Matt and Andy followed me to the door.  I looked at them quizzically.  They came in for a hug and a kiss goodbye.  It’s not all love though.  I often have to play the hard disciplinarian.  Sometimes, I chuckle to myself because I find some of my upbringing peeking through.  For instance, I insist on the boys having a healthy fruit snack before they can have a more unhealthy muesli bar or tiny teddies.  Mom should be proud!

I’m entirely thankful to the reappearance of dear friends in my life.  Most recently, Frances the Seventh from Austria and the fabulous Lisa of Germany have shared in the Aussie sunshine after all of us spending months apart.  Part of my need to come back to Australia was to once again be a part of an international community.  Sharing in cultures and perspectives widens the mind and narrows the world.  Being foreign implants tastes bittersweet, though, as each of us move in our own direction forward.  Dear Frances left for Thailand a few days ago before he finally lands back in his home country.  This might just cause for a trip to Austria!  Any excuse to travel (and that is a mighty good one)!

There is one near travesty in my suburban way of life.  The nearest Starbucks is a twenty to thirty minute drive!  Yet, Bucks still has its trashy coffee alluring power over us to make the trip.  An impromptu visit last night, spearheaded by my boyfriend and I, brought together a group of people that I’m honored to claim as friends. We drank frou frou beverages listening to Sam’s warp speed stories and chuckling at Andy’s interpretive dance moves.  Kreton tried to pass the imaginary “talking stick” because our conversations crissed cross about the circle.  I even let out the involuntary snort in reaction to the jolliness of our chatter.  Contentment. 

Don’t you’s (Aussie lingo) worry now.  I’m still seizing the day, even as I revel in current happiness.  Carpe Diem, in a way, is exactly how contentment lives.

My ending this time will be a paste from an old blog I wrote at the almost end of my last trip (September 2009).  It seems fitting to revisit it now:

“…Nothing turned out to be as expected, a mantra of our trip. It's almost humorous that just as I was gearing up to leave, visit New Zealand, and come home to figure out my next adventure abroad, I find something new. It is unexplainable and completely unexpected. It is beautiful how the actions of others perfectly combined to bring on a chance encounter, a new risk to be taken up. It would happen this way. The mantra still holds true, even in our last days. My life has been building toward a moment like this. I've been refined. It's kindred. It's instant. It's raw. It's grace. It's sacred. It gives hope. In the end it is about seizing the day, dancing joyfully in the moment, and perhaps taking the risk to not let go...”

I am so happy. 

I miss you all.  Thank you for keeping me a part of your lives even as I soak up my contentment here, dancing joyfully in the moment.

xoxo Joy!

Goodnight Mummy

Perhaps some of you haven't thought about it, but the night sky in Australia, the Southern Hemisphere, looks different than the one back home.  Instead of looking for the big and small dipper automatically, people here look for the Southern Cross. Many of you have joined me in one of my favorite pastimes, staring up at the nighttime expanse and talking about all sorts of important and unimportant life contemplations (especially if blankets and a slight chill are involved...less bugs!).

The night sky has taken on a whole new meaning of late.  For the little boys, Matt, Andy, and Hamish, the stars represent their mum shining down on them.  Before she took up permanent residence in Heaven, she told her little ones that she was always with them, a star in the night sky, that they could talk to her and look upon her.  The night of the funeral, I was putting them to bed, and they were missing their mummy.  Matt said he needed to say goodnight to her, so he climbed out of bed, went to the window, found the one star that the city lights didn't blink out, and in his little boy voice of incalculable loss said, "Goodnight, mummy.  I love you."  Little Andy followed his big brother's example.  I chimed in too.  This, my dear ones, is the world I live in right now.  All things considered, everyone is being pretty resilient with Judy's passing.  But it catches you at the most unexpected moments.  Like when little Andy snuggled up to me in my bed after his nap, and solemnly stared with his big blue eyes straight into mine.  I asked him, "What's going on in here?" while patting his head.  He said in his sincere, sweet, and very serious voice, "I want to touch Mummy."  I'm tearing up a bit just writing about it.  I tell them its ok to miss her and be sad.  I tell them to talk to her because she is with them.  I tell them she loves them and I do too.

Judy's funeral was tragically beautiful.  The room overflowed with mourners.  Even the standing room filled up.  She planned most of the funeral herself, including letters read to her husband, boys, family, and friends.  Admittedly, I sobbed through most of it.  Her sister in law read the family's eulogy and Jason read his own.  There was not a dry eye to be seen and seeing Jason's tears fall on the pages he was reading from was one of the most poignant moments of her life's celebration.  Judy was sent off with great honor and unspeakable love.

I've been touched by the care of Judy's family and friends.  I'm exhausted from the constant visitors but relieved by their presence at the same time.  We all take care of each other because we are all in this together.

I do escape into my other "world" too.  Tara has been a true rock to me this last week.  She calls to check up on me and chat.  She broke her plans on the day Judy passed to share a pint with me, to share life with me.  On Saturday, I visited her in the City and we found a small cafe in the historical downtown of Sydney, called the Rocks.  We sat in its shaded courtyard for a few hours, drinking coffee and hot chocolate, listening to music, and making lists.  Our lists spur on the sharing of our deepest current life reflections.  I believe there is always good purposes to be found if we are willing to search for them.  Tara's move to Sydney is a most wonderful and purposeful good.  There have been the messages of prayer and encouragement from all my dear ones back in the States and France and all over Australia.  Samantha met me for Max Brenner's chocolate Belgium waffles.  Riaaz calls and texts me everyday words of encouragement.  Kreton makes me laugh and visits parks with me.  Andrew is always ready to be a listening ear.  The list goes on and on.  Jessi. Abby. Amy. Leah. Jessie. Matt. Wade. Vinci. Lisa. Juli. Mom. Dad. Aunt Caroline. Jessica....  I feel quite unworthy, as I am not the one who has lost as the people around me have lost, but I welcome the Sacredness of others breathing life into me.  It gives me strength.  It gives me rest. It gives me love to pass forward.

I look forward to the City again with Tara tonight.  We have some plans to explore Surrey Hills, her new home, and do some shopping!!!! Also, St. Patty's day is around the corner.  I fully intend to play up my Irish side!  Tara, Riaaz, and I, and whoever else ends up coming, are planning a Blue Mountains trip on an upcoming weekend.  I can't wait to breathe in the mountain air and go for gorgeous hikes with some of my dearest friends.  My hope is there is a campfire at some point.  And maybe S'mores! (Aussies don't know what S'mores are so I have to right this injustice).

May you be blessed this day. I miss you all.  xoxoxo

P.S. To my own mummy.  Goodnight.

Twilight Eclipsed

"...And the mother gave, in tears and pain, 

The flowers she most did love; 

She knew she should find them all again 

In the fields of light above..."

~Longfellow

Judy's Twilight has eclipsed.  Her body lost the battle to The Beast, as she always called it, at 1 a.m. on Thursday, March 4.  Her funeral will be held this coming Tuesday at high noon.  The family, and even I in a different way, live on in a thin place.  We're surrounded by family and friends. The beauty in the ashes are the moments such as Thursday morning when I awoke to the laughter of her loved ones soldiering on in their grief.  Thank you all for your strength, deep sympathies, and encouraging words.  It fuels me and allows me to laugh with little boys.

Thin Places

When Rome was building its massive empire, its army would conquer new lands and people groups.  After its machine and routine destroying, Rome would offer its protection and cultivate the conquered in the ways of the greatest Latin culture.  For years, the Roman lands experienced Pax Romana.  The peace of Rome.  People lived with Roman soldiers, administrators, and government officials dictating their lives and taking a percentage of their livelihoods.  It was calm.  But it was uncomfortable and not always easy.

            Jessi, the other half of me, perhaps the better half of me, passionately lives in a place that is often conquered by evil outside forces.  Poverty.  Violence.  Drugs.  Desolation.  She loves people.  She loves her work.  Yet, she has followed the voice to a new place, where she will continue to love and work and beat back at the poverty and desolation.  She’s going to our home, the roots of our childhood, just as I have left the roots for the branches of adventure (again).  Our catching up is over the Internet these days and as we chatted on Skype, we discussed how peace is not beauty queen cuddly, but incredibly uncomfortable and heavy hearted.  She loves the people of Detroit with her whole being, yet has decided to leave.  Jessi exists in the peace of knowing her decision to step away into a new challenge infuses her with joy.  But how do you say goodbye to the little ones you’ve seen grow, learn, and laugh?  Or leave the rich, life sustaining relationships of her “family” there?  The heart cannot separate itself into here or there.  Peace remains as the wooly blanket.  It’s warmth protects and reassures.  It just feels a bit prickly on the bare skin.  Jess’s own Pax Romana.

            The Romans brought their forcible peace and they brought their culture.  They also brought their roads.  This great empire shaped our future and its sticky note reminder can be found in its infrastructure.  Besides Italy, I’ve visited Roman ruins in the U.K. and France.  The ruins monument the power of the Pax Romana.  People build roads to follow peace.  I have found my Pax Romana led me to a family in the throes of a great crisis.  It is a thin place, as my father’s quoted Celtic theology would say.  It is the moments when two places of different natures blend.  Thin places transform.  Thin places transition.  Judy lies at this moment loosely tethered to earth while at the same time breathing in the place of Beyond, the Sacred.  She is gathering her ties in a bouquet and slowly pressing the flowers into the hands of those who carry her with them always.  The Celts thought twilight a sacred thin time, where the earthly and heavenly realms held hands and danced briefly.  Miracles happen when hands are held.  I live with three small boys and their father at Judy’s twilight.   Whenever I can now, I hold the hand of a little boy and squeeze it three times.  It’s our secret language as the shadows rise.  For each squeeze there is a word. I. Love. You.

            Our bodies as temples used to be a worn out cliché to me.  Thin places have refreshed me.  The ancient Jews had many layers to their Temple.  Each courtyard brought a person closer to the most Sacred center.  Fewer and fewer people could go into each courtyard and rituals of cleansing had to be undergone at each place in order to enter it.  Only the high priest once a year ever entered the Holy of Holies, where God dwelled among the people.  A thin place.  We hold our own temples within.  There are layers to us all.  The outer courtyards hold the most people, they are the everyday citizens of our lives.  Some have the honor of moving to the next courtyard and fewer still to the next.  These people cleanse themselves with the sharing of trust and knowledge and love.  Very few enter our Holy of Holies.  This thinnest of places, the dwelling of our truest selves.  The thin places between Sacreds flame miracles; Heaven and Earth squeeze hands.  The little boys have little ritual or requirement for their thin places, for they need many to enter to know which roads bring peace.  There are bricks for the walls waiting.  But for now, I snuggle with them at twilight, amongst their little boy miracles.  I cover us with a wooly Pax blanket.

Firsts

I might be an addict. I dream about Max Brenner. I long for Max throughout my day. I’ve tried to quit cold turkey. I’ve tried to limit myself. But it is to no avail. At the end of the day, I send out a text to my mates asking if they are up for another trip to Australia’s award winning chocolate bistro! So far I’ve sampled the milk shakes, the fondue, the flat white, the latte, and the Frutti Tutti Belgium waffle. I thought for sure my second Australia homecoming wouldn’t provide many “firsts” but somehow I’ve made my first Max Brenner experience become a repeated offense, a sweet reward after a long day’s work (thank you Kreton for introducing us!).

Here are some more firsts…

1. I made mash potatoes for the first time. In my family, Sean is the master masher, so I was always put on potato peeling duty. How’d they taste??? Awesome. I put my wrist into it. The masher was packed so I had to use a fork!!!!
2. Driving on the left side in Australia. Well I guess I did a few times in the Outback but that doesn’t really count seeing as there were no other vehicles or lanes even. The first time I embarked on a trip solo, I went all the way to Blacktown. I was a bit frustrated because I couldn’t find a street I needed to turn onto (which turns out Google didn’t know it didn’t exist!!!). At one point, I had to reorient myself back onto the road I needed and I was at the front of the left turn lane. All morning I had been chanting to myself, “stay left stay left stay left.” The problem is I stayed so far left that I entered the bus only lanes!!!! It turns out that using the bus lanes is a big no no. So I’m living in dread of a large ticket arriving in the mail. Unlike the vast United States' Mid-West, Sydney’s all about their traffic cameras catching violators. I plan on pulling the dumb American card in court.
3. Cross Fit. Riaaz is trained in this new fitness craze. (It originated in the U.S. Look it up!). Every day is a different workout. It pushes your body to the limit. I felt great after my first two go’s at it. Except my legs kept giving out on stairs! Not such a good feeling when you’re toting a nine month old around. Even though I felt a bit abused the rest of the week, the boys said I didn’t do so horrible. I think I might join the craze!
4. Watching the winter Olympics in the summer!
5. Eating lentil tacos. I didn’t even know Aussies were into Mexican food! Yum.
6. Having to hold little boys missing their mum. The update on the Mulcahy’s…Judy is back in the hospital after a less than 24 hour stay back home. All of the boys want her home. We all do.  Matt and Andy needed extra cuddles all day and even knocked on my door for a kiss goodnight.  Heartbreaking.  The future is looking….well….never never give up, as Judy always says. Please keep us in your prayers.
7. Sweating. For some reason, Australia makes me sweat when I work out!!! Also to be duly noted, the air here somehow infuses me to go running for longer distances. Boo yah!!!!
8. Not living with Tara. We reunited last Friday night for the first time in five months!!! When we saw each other, our first moments were silent with arms of steel about each other. I don’t think I breathed for a few minutes and the corners on my smile burned! One male bystander even remarked that he was impressed that we didn’t scream. Screaming with glee inside, no worries.

"You're Brilliant" Award: Tara’s arrival in time for the Chinese New Year. The Year of the white metal Tiger is all about changes and great passion. It coincided with February 14^th this year, which means love will supposedly reign. Doesn’t love always reign?

"Lame As" Award: Mums being ill.

**Please keep me updated about your lives! It brings me such great happiness to know the life happenings of all my dear ones.**

Men

Earlier today I was skype chatting with my bosom buddy, Leah, and I commented to her that we were being a little bit “Sex and the City” with our topics. SATC has long been a beloved show for my girlfriends and I (and occasionally guy friends who aren’t too scared to admit the show is well written, quite witty, and well performed), as it is a show that does well to represent what life is about. Sex. Well, more specifically, relationships. Rob Bell, the author of “Sex God,” describes a person who is extremely in tune with themselves, others, and the Sacred, as an extremely sexual person indeed. He cited Mother Theresa being one of the most sexual people in our modern times, even though she was celibate. One of my best guy friends gave me a very high compliment one day when we were cruising in his truck. As we listened to Christina Aguilera belt her diva voice (our not so guilty pleasure!), he told me I was one of the most sexual people he knows. I thought, of course he was teasing me and my joking manner, especially as he let out his own self satisfied chuckle at my big eyes and wrinkled forehead. Of course the lower half of my face was less confused as it displayed my typical response to most things in life, bemused laughter. His mirth filled blue eyes did eventually grow a bit serious, as he explained to me my ability to be in loving relationship with people is what he meant. I don’t know about the MOST sexual but he definitely affirmed my need to actively know and care for people.

I don’t know if "knowing people" makes me an expert in men. Seeing as my dear SATC characters were roaring into their 40’s still a bit mystified by the male world, I have no illusions that I am somehow wise beyond my years. But I’m going to attempt my first blog dedicated to the topic. Should be interesting, aye? (One of my favorite things about “Aussie speak” is there ending to a question/comment with aye….like a much more attractive Minnesotan/Canadian “eh.”)

I took a class in uni that focused on women’s lives. My two guy best friends took it with me. They were two of three or four guys in the entire class of 25. Brave souls. Or extremely well played, depending on how you look at it. I remember part of our discussions centered on understanding how we, as women, defined ourselves and navigated the world we lived in. We discovered the largest chunk of it came from our men. Whether right or wrong, consciously or subconsciously, firsthand or second, we have come to know ourselves through the looking glass of our male counterparts. So what do our guys tell us?

When I was about four, I had this beautiful ruffly green Christmas tree dress. I couldn’t wait to show Santa. I swirled my dress proudly in my white stocking, black patent leather shoe clad feet. I knew I was pretty purely because girls in lovely green Christmas tree dresses had to be so. When it came time to sit on Santa’s lap, I froze up. I was a shy, unsure little girl, and the red suited man before me LOOMED so large and foreign, not at all jolly. My dad picked me up to deposit me on this strange man’s lap. Mid drop, something inside of me said this isn’t right. Don’t make me. So, I did the logical little girl thing. I clung to my father’s neck with all my might. My father tried to reassure me. He tried to undo my iron arms. He tried to tickle me and make me laugh. I turned off my tickle sensors, that is how determined I was to not let him go. So, my dad did an amazing big daddy act. He sat on Santa’s lap himself, with me in his arms. I’m pretty sure I still thought it was trick and didn’t come out too far from my hiding but Santa at least got to see my ruffly green Christmas tree dress. Someone had taken a Polaroid picture of my dad, in his army duds, holding his frightened daughter while sitting most absurdly on Santa’s legs. My dad and Santa had very amused grins on their faces. For years, I had that picture thumb tacked above my bed. Every time I looked at it I knew I had been a silly little girl, not brave at all. But I knew I was a silly little girl that was worth protecting. I was worth my daddy’s time, effort, and dignity, to show a jolly old elf his pretty girl’s dress.

Of course no amount of a father’s protective powers (unless of course you are completely locked away from media and modern society) can keep other messages from popping into a girl’s psyche. We see and hear the women on T.V., magazines, on the Internet. Playgrounds became battles of popularity, with image and looks playing a large part in hierarchy and taunting. Little girls begin to measure their importance on how they look. They listen to the voices all around. I can remember thinking in kindergarten that I was too fat. KINDERGARTEN! And I know for a fact that I’m not the only female I’ve talked to who has be aware of their body in that way at such a young age. I would like to say I have no scars from my school age years but I do, even with having my big daddy around. There are the scars of my adolescence and adulthood too. The scars of trying to work out my identity among the voices. The transforming scars of when I have been broken by those I loved, a common human sorrow.

In our women’s class one day we talked about how even small, backhanded comments from our guy friends about how a random woman looks or her value can send us to the bathroom to evaluate ourselves. My two good guy friends couldn’t believe it. Our conversation on this topic continued long after class that day. They had no idea that even commenting on how hot a model on a commercial looks could affect the women in their lives. Even their fiercely independent, self confident, well educated, girl friends and girlfriends were not able to shake off these toxic thoughts all the time.

It was about this time that my guy friends really seemed to grow into their “big daddy” protectiveness. Spencer never missed a chance to hold a door open or take time to understand my stories and my opinions. Tyler watched over me while we traveled abroad. Matt found time for many small acts of kindness, such as when he went with me to the in pound lot when my stolen car was found stripped to its wires. Wade and Brent are my “dates” when I had none to escort me, as I was an extension of their beloved girl friends, now wives. It was from them and other important men (Chris and Chris, Nathan, Richie, Jake, Adam, Brian, Doug, Ben, my brothers....and the least goes on), that I was able to regain the little girl who knew she was pretty in her Christmas dress, the little girl who is worth it. My girl friends are essential to my understanding of the world and emotional support but my guy friends are essential to my courage and internal hearth of beauty.

Once again, I was on the ferry leaving Manly behind, when the two older gentlemen I was sitting next to lost their cell phone. I helped them find it and we began chatting a bit. Sometimes I forget how much my accent gives me away, because before I knew it I had two champions on my side for the rest of my hour and half journey. It turned out the two men, Ron and Victor, were heading to Seven Hills, one stop off from my own destination of Blacktown. Ron gathered me maps of places I should go and helped me get a train ticket (neither of which I needed help with but the thing is guys, no matter how old, like this whole taking care of the lady bit. Why would I want to rob them of something that makes them feel so good?). They told me about their lives and their wives and answered my sometimes too “blonde” questions. They made suggestions on where I should park the next time I took the train. Victor had a bad back that made him a bit cranky all the time. Ron good-naturedly picked on Vic's moods. So, I defended Victor back, joshing Ron a tinge. When I was saying goodbye to my two gentleman escorts, Victor looked me straight in the eyes and said I was an absolutely lovely lady. He was telling me I was worth it.

I left the trains for the warmth of my good guy friend, Riaaz. Sydney had been pouring rain all weekend and although I was planning on walking to his house from the station with my trusty umbrella, Riaaz would hear none of it. He had gotten minimal sleep the last couple of days and nights because his security job has him up until the sun awakes and his work out, as well as social/family life, keep him busy during the day. I was getting ready for a birthday party at his house right smack dab in the middle of his precious sleeping hours. And now he was picking me up. Once more, he gave me his room to get ready in and fed me delicious food. Riaaz smiled at my girly need to spin in my party dress and complimented my carefully applied eye makeup. He tells me I’m beautiful often, sometimes in words but usually just by being my champion.

Before my ferry trip that day, I had been visiting my Kiwi friend, Andrew, in Manly. Some of you might remember him as my pilot friend from my Outback days. He came to Sydney for a holiday and to reunite with me and our other Outback friend, Amelia. Andrew treated me to a three course, menu changes every two days, fancy meal at a Darling Harbor restaurant called Café 22. Presumably, the Mama Mia casts like to hang out there as well. Andrew never misses a beat to be the generous benefactor in our activities together. He wouldn’t even let me pay for my fourth visit to Max Brenner in a week! He’s always going out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable and looked after. He’s planning on flying around the world in a six seater plan and wants me to come along to write about it. He’s an avid reader of my blog. He tells me I’m beautiful often, sometimes in words but usually by being one of my biggest fans.

So Max Brenner coffee in hand, I remember thinking how wonderful it is to have so many amazing men in my life. And how do you graduate to “man” status might one ask? Well, here’s a test I use. If I reach out to put my arm through a guy’s arm (this coming from years of doing it to my father, partly to keep from stacking over my own feet and partly because my legs are so short I could never keep up otherwise) and the guy automatically shifts his arm into a “L,” you know they are at man status. The “L” is all about knowing how to stabilize and guide. After mentoring high school boys, I had seen many a limp arm.

I was explaining this to Kreton as he walked me to my car after we had Max Brenner number one for the week. Of course, he was using the manly "L." Kreton is another example of a gentleman and dear friend in my life. After I had been picked up by Riaaz from the train station, Riaaz told me Kreton had requested I call him to work out plans for the evening. Kreton is always smaking sure I’m in the know with plans and making sure I know where to go (since I have no concept of the streets around here yet). He picks me up or has me follow him. He walks me to my car. He makes sure if I get separated from the group in a large crowd, that I’m not lost for long. He knows I need positive touch and gives me hugs like he means them. He tells me I’m beautiful often, sometimes in words but usually by being one of my most considerate fellows.

Men. I could write another three pages on how dense they can be at times. But for now, I’m soaking in all the ways they have blessed me of late. So to all of my males, keep inspiring the women in your life. It means more than you know, says the little girl spinning and twirling about in her green Christmas tree dress.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Daddy. Love, Your Joy

A Hammy Joy

“Unless you fill yourself up first, you have nothing to give anybody. Therefore it is imperative that you tend to you first. Attend to your joy first. People are responsible for their own joy. When you tend to your joy and do what makes you feel good, you are a joy to be around and you are a shining example to every child and every person in your life. When you are feeling joy you don’t even have to think about giving. It is a natural overflow…All your joy is on the frequency of love—the highest and most powerful frequency of all…when you love you are in complete and utter harmony with the Universe.”

-The Secret

Some of my friends in Australia have been reading and applying the words of Rhonda Byrne’s book “The Secret.” They were quoting it left and right and all around the roundabouts, so I decided I needed to investigate such inspiring material. Being my nature to be a bit critical of any book, or anything, that talks in absolutes, I have quite a few criticisms about this little self-help recipe book. However, in between it all there are gems of truth, sparking reflection, life the quote above.

There is something incredibly magnetic about a person who loves his or herself. I’m not talking about being conceited or arrogant but rather a healthy self-respect and inner knowledge of the his or her necessary uniqueness to the world. I think almost all people struggle with this. The ones who seem to not be affected are the very young and the wise (duh). Today when I read this quote, I understood it through an experience of just this morning. Little Hammish (9 months) is the happiest baby. Amidst the chaos of a sick mother, overworked father, older brothers with their own fears and needs, a new puppy, and a fresh au pair, the little guy completely “hams” out all the time. When I put him down for a nap, I started making this cooing/humming noise in my throat and the kiddo just belly laughed with such joy!!! And ya know what, I completely laughed too. I think that is a good summary of Bryne’s work, although I’ll add my own twist. Little Hammish often exists in perfect harmony with The Sacred. It flows out of him for the harmony of us all.

Speaking of joy. I had a weekend full of it, as I bonded with my Aussie mates at a water park called Jambaroo (yeah no joke). It rained on our way in and burned us on the way out! I thought maybe my “cheetah” tan from an unfortunate spray sun block incident the weekend before would be toned down but alas I still look a bit spotted, or skin tone diseased! No worries. Plenty of sun time ahead. Sorry all you States residers. Enjoy your snow angels! And the Super Bowl (Go Colts!!! That’s for Amy ;) ).

On the horizon, I have another weekend brimming full of people I care about. Andrew is here to visit! Along with Ameila and Cailey, we’re dolling up and going out! Yvonne has promised a drop in too. Then, Saturday is the declared day to celebrate Samantha’s birthday. Another night of dressing to the nines topped with the usual joviality. I’ll be traipsing all over the city and back for my people but don’t care a tinge.

Next Wednesday is Moving Day. We’re moving a couple suburbs over. Then, life will settle a bit on the work/home front. I think.

Alright, here’s my awards:

“You’re Brilliant” goes to the kids’ cousin Di Di. She’s 24 and stops in regularly to help out Jason and Judy. She’s a little bit of sunshine for everyone. The first time she popped in, I had just been thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to talk to (my age) and then there she was!!! Sweet as.

“Lame as” goes to the lady you yelled at Kreton and I that the mall was closed where we were when it wasn’t. And we were walking away from the closed area. And the gates weren’t down. And Kreton was being nice and finding me amongst the maze of closed up shops (did you know the shops close at around six in Australia…ummm yeah I couldn’t’ believe it either). Ah well. We had the best milk shakes from Max Brenner Chocolate Shop.

Contact info!!!

I want to hear your stories too!!! Here's how to get a hold of me....

Address starting Feb. 9:

22 Sentinel Ave.

Kellyville, NSW 2155

Australia

Aussie mobile number:

04 1571 4413

(calling from the U.S.??? you'll have to add international codes and drop the first zero from this number)

Email:

corjoy@bethel.edu

Facebook:

Look up Joylynn Renee Corum

Skype:

joylynnrenee

xxxx loves!

Light up, Light up!

****WARNING: I will be exploding heaps of typeface onto this first blog. I haven’t even started yet and I know it’s gonna be a book….

I’ve had brief moments of “what are you doing, Joylynn” throughout my life. I was sprawled out on the Manly Ferry on Australia day, trying very hard NOT to put my feet on the seat across from me (yes it is against the rules, yes I have gotten chastised for doing it). I had just left behind the “no shoes, no worries” of Manly and was heading into the first part of my last leg to Sydney’s western ‘burbs. All about were blue flag bedazzled Australians crazed with the excitement of celebrating their country. Now, none of my Aussie friends can tell me why January 26^th is Austalia Day. No historical significance apparently. But that in and off itself is Australia. It is a land of celebration and, what’s more, celebration for the sake of high spirits (and spirits in general) and frivolity. I, myself, nearly shouted out “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” in response to the overly animated “cheerleader” Australians on the rival ferry but realized my American accent would call me out. I laughed out loud at my silliness, our collective silliness.

My brief moment of “freak out” had come about a week earlier, as I prepared myself to leave, yet again, the faces (and warm embraces when they let me) of all “my people” for the newest adventure. Unlike four months earlier, I’d be making this latest trip to the Down Under on my own. And I would be living in an unknown family’s home. And I would be away from the travelers’ hub bubs, so making fast food quick friends would not be happening. I live a spirited life, occasionally a brave one, but the sudden idea of having a very holey support net made me freak. Not to mention, I felt as though I was leaving a bunch of loves in a bit of lurch with my impending absence. For years I’ve designed my life to fit around the joys and sorrows of those I care about. Did I really want to miss weddings and proposals and late night girl fests and moves and birthdays and graduations and, God forbid, tragedies???

As my feet somehow made it to the seat across from me without me allowing them to, I looked up from my lovely Ann Lamot book, to see a father (grandfather?) follow a chubby toddler all about the ferry. The man is only three or so steps behind, letting the young one explore all the crannies of our vessel. He doesn’t stifle the little footsteps but he definitely doesn’t take his eyes from his precious little guy. I had noticed them earlier. The father had plopped the boy down and gave him some home packed breakfast of some sort. The two of them munched together happily. Now, the father scooped him up and began to thoroughly wipe sunblock from ear tips to chubby big toes. The little boy just sat on his lap and smiled contentedly. The thought popped into my head. THIS is the real life illustration of God being my daddy through this all. His sunblocked covered hands have been all over this latest adventure from its birth.

One Sunday in early December, I found myself feeling extremely frustrated with how stuck I felt in my current life situation. Nothing seemed right in a place that was so right before my first Australia trip. So, I started cruising an au pair website I had signed up for back in September when I first got back from Australia. Literally, hours later a family contacted me, interested in me to work for them as an au pair. A few emails later and a skype interview, I had a job halfway around the world. In less than a week. The visa took 24 hours. The plane ticket was inexpensive (as international travel goes). I would arrive in time for Australia Day. I could stay with my dear friends in L.A on my way out of the States. My beautiful cousin, who I never see nearly enough, volunteered to pick me up at LAX and treat me to dinner (along with her very impressive new diamond ring and equally impressive fiancé). Two brilliant gentlemen mates assured me they would pick me at the Sydney airport after my long weary hours of travel and safely deliver me to Manly. Another friend from my Outback workdays made room for me on her double mattress to rest for my first days back in the “Holy Land.” Um yeah. No need to freak out, ay?

I had someone following three steps behind me and, of course, three steps ahead. In 24 hours before I left, I had a sequence of fortunate events that made me just sit contentedly. I was invited to an Aussie Day BBQ. My best friend and his fiancée had me over for a breakfast of champions. Starbucks, quickly followed by outrageous telling of black listed stories to my friend’s boyfriend, thrown in with some laughing faces of my closest Sioux Fallsians, mixed together a joyous farewell brew. And as I burned the midnight lights, one kindred spirit curled up on my bed, telling me to definitely bring two pairs of high heels. My parents bestowed upon me St. Christopher, the Saint of travelers, and a prayer for safety and serendipity. The security check kept me from tears. My cell phone warned off loneliness.

I laugh and shake my head at my own worries. Why am I always amazed by how well loved I am? Once more, is that it doesn’t stop there. Oh no. It all exceeds my humanly hopes. Little moments along the way that have bolstered my strength. Travelers who become my friends and a part of my story. Residents of Australia who embrace me into their homeland. Amelia taking me dancing and us having to make a run for it when a guy was mad about her drink being spilled on him. Rescue missions for “family” in icky circumstances. Walking for 30 minutes because the bus failed to come and knowing its worth it when I see Yvonne waiting outside of Maca’s. A splendid Barbie on a super hot day. Bubz keeping me company and chuckling at my pineapple cutting skills. Christine and I talking about the wonderful world of nursing (because I failed at talking about WoW), even though she doubted my coolness after discovering my love for “Twilight.” Trying to sing with Sam for Wii Guitar Hero (“trying” is so key here). Finding a kindred moment with Riaaz. Knowing in my gut the family I live with are good people. Successfully driving on the left side of the road. Skyping at 6 a.m (with crazy hair and sleepy eyes). with best friends when I needed to just hear the voice of someone who “sees” me (Avatar reference anyone? Love it). And all of those mini stories could have their own chronicle. Wow. The meaning of “no worries.”

I put on my running shoes today and the song I started pumping my legs to had my flinging out my arms and raising my face. My ipod shuffled me to “Run” by Snow Patrol.

“Light up, light up

As if you have a choice

Even if you cannont hear my voice

I’ll be right beside you, dear”

This is my adventure, my latest moments of inspiration and intrigue. As if I had a choice.

;)

As Chris suggested, I’ll be doing a bit of a Colbert report rip off to end my blog…

“That’s Brilliant” award goes to the ginger haired kid getting his hair cut today. His red hair was cut all asymmetrical and haphazard in the Aussie style I’ve come to love. Why is that only Aussies can really pull that off?

“Lame as” award (yes there is only suppose to be one “s” there) goes to the driver that honked at me in the roundabout yesterday. You were going waaayyyyy too fast. Who thought roundabouts were a good idea anyway? Or driving on the left side of the road?