Final reflections of the year

It has been an interesting last two weeks of the year. I've completed the Queen Charlotte track, had a smooth family Christmas, went tramping in the Waitaks and swimming at Piha with my sisters, conquered Mt Pirongia (the walk almost conquered me!), cafe-hopped with my eldest sister and then went to a bar and cafe with friends last night (going to a bar is a rarity for me). Today will bear a nice lunch with mum and a party to see in 2009. It has definitely been my most relaxing, pleasant end to the year that I can remember with any clarity.

I haven't really had a chance to really look back on 2008 with any deep consideration. It has been definitely been epochal; traumatic as well as stimulating. It redefined my future path to the extent that I'll probably let the first half of 2009 run along before setting substantial goals. 2009 is a great unknown for most aspects of my life. I cannot predict where I'll be, what I'll be doing, who I'll be with nor what I want come December 2009.

My new residence in central Auckland has been an experience in itself. I'll think long and hard if it is where I'd like to live longer than the 6 months I've promised. It has been the perfect place for me at the time I came.

Yesterday I made a disappointing discovery: my left rear brake light was smashed (with the pieces on the ground) and a black mark had appeared on the bumper. Someone in my apartment complex or a visitor had pulled out or in unskillfully and damaged my car. There was no note or anything like that. It is possible that someone in a four-wheel drive (that would fit with the damage) with the music on might not notice such a contact. It is very true though that this place is an enclave of predominantly bad drivers. I have, on more than one occasion, had to take evasive action as people reverse out of their car-parks without checking for on-coming traffic. Such is life.

The only thing that I can say with pleasure is that I'm very happily Daniel and, come what may, I'll be pretty pleased with whatever happens. I wish you all a pleasant change of calendars and hope that the time till you have to head back to the grindstone passes with exquisite slowness so that you can enjoy every moment.

Exhaustorama

October was cruisy. October was cool. New work was on the horizon and everything was at peace.

It was peaceful until this week, when upon me fell a ton of bricks: I truly had to work harder than I have ever had during my working life; I had to endure more tiredness than I've usually have. It also sets a few new personal records too.

The next few weeks will quiet down till the new year and then hopefully it will open up afresh.

Financial Malaise

The on-going financial crisis has been a pretty reliable topic in the speaking section of each lesson I run - new ructions, plans, hikes, crashes and spasms splashing the news day after day. Interest though noticeably evaporated last week. It appears the whole situation has just gone on too long. The novelty has not only worn off but is starting to bring many down.

Having a varied group of nationalities, I follow the relative damage to the countries concerned: Hungary has been tarred by association. CNN decided to put it in the same sentence as Iceland (reckless, perhaps) and said that the IMF had offered it a loan (which it declined). The market and the currency nevertheless plummeted in response from which it hasn't recovered. The Czechs and Slovaks are the happiest: their banks are safe; their economies are still unaffected; their only sadness is that with the Euro (and their currencies which move with the Euro) are appreciating, eroding their New Zealand savings. The Croatians are also fairly unaffected except for those speculating on the sharemarket as it keeps its downward trajectory ('I just keep buying the stock so I can lower my average.'/'It just keeps falling!' from two different students).

I've heard from a couple of self-employed people who are struggling a little. I haven't had any noticeable effect (it'd be a surprise if I was affected as quickly as them though). I have recently been given a project which will be a monthly money earner. I hope this will insulate any post-Christmas easing. And the boom of this year has left me with reasonable savings. Interest rates falling along with house prices appeals to the acquisitive part of me. I'm not yet into house buying mode or even in a situation where it is an ideal plan but the fact that the trend has begun that will eventually suit me is good. Lower petrol prices suit summer roadtripping too. Maybe post-crisis living won't be too bad for me after all.

Thinking of more than just myself, the scale of the crisis is starting to unnerve me. Commodity prices are crucial to New Zealand and they are simply plummeting with global demand. It'll be quite some time before they can get back to that high. And still the extent of the carnage globally is still not known. Along with 9/11 and the Boxing Day Tsunami, this is another global phenomenon that we get to experience in our adult lives. It is special.

Daniel on the classroom floor

I'm floating. No, really I am. It has been exactly a month since my anxiety faded into nothingness. All I've been left with is a general levity, not an ounce of stress in my whole entire body. I've had favourable conditions, it's true. Work is not work. It has sustained itself and, without any doing of my own, is building up and producing more opportunities. (My reality check will come this Thursday when one opportunity will actually make me put my nose to the grindstone!) I've had pleasant preoccupations, considerate friends at my side and no hick-ups.

My dermatitis has finally left its stronghold on my right hand. My back-pain (AKA Xin-pain) has completely gone. The apparent and underlying stress is draining from me slowly. I enjoy my back stretches. One I do on my back to adjust my hips: pop-pop-pop, and ohhhhhh, how nice it is to just lie on my back on the classroom floor. I could stay there for hours.

This has been a faith-builder in the power of life, the temporacy of turmoil and the joy of being. It is now that I take a breather before I dive back in.

Flutter, iced water and the odd case of the VW

During a tough week two weeks ago, I was struggling to understand the way my emotions flowed far beyond my control. I would pitch into despair without warning. I would be beyond consoling and only distraction could save me. I explained it to friends who didn't seem to have had a similar period.

This last week I've similarly been stricken again by the surge and flow of emotions, but this time positive - I haven't been this electrified in a long time. It has been simply extraordinary.

EXHIBIT A: Unsent clumsy prose

"If it makes you feel awkward that you have made me so happy, just think that you have been a catalyst rather than a source. To use an analogy of Socrates, you’ve been the midwife who has incidentally helped me give birth to a surprising amount of joy. Maybe before there was still the burden weighing down my balloon, but the weights have been released so I could ascend with ease: 自由自在"

While there is no news to tell (I've been refreshed by cold water), I'm in a very interesting place. I feel like I've ascended to a height from where I can see over what came before with some insight. But then again, I can hardly bank on another emotional rollercoaster not happening in the near future.

This winter has brought me: cruel heartbreak, depressive depths, the giddiness of being lovesick and the joys, agonies and flaws of true honesty. Could it possibly be that I'm getting more from this season than any other? Truly to all those who have been a part of this: Thank you. (And Winter isn't over for another week and a bit!)

Spring, Truth and Allegory

My weekends haven't gone well lately; even ones with promise have taken unexpected dives. This weekend bucked that trend and is hopefully a start of something new.

I had planned to go on a road trip by myself. Before the morning of departure all I had in mind was to go to Rotorua for a hot spring and then onto Taupo to stay over at a friend's. Going down, I sighted a familiar mountain, one that I had wanted to climb but had been prevented by weather. It seduced me (I just love mountains looming over highways). So the hot springs had to take a backseat as made a sharp turn and zoomed off to the cute town of Te Aroha, and its distinctive toponymically named mountain.

I rocketed up with my usual gusto, but two-thirds of the way up I was hit by either my lack of fitness or the difficulty of the ascent. I struggled a little and eventually summitted (a quick time of 1 hour 40 minutes). The view was outstanding. Standing on the Kaimai-Mamaku ranges means you can see the whole Bay of Plenty, the East Coast and the Hauraki Plains (and if weather had been better, the central plateau mountains). I saw the most ragged possum ever, which stared at me then ran. I felt compelled to complete the loop that the summit track was but a section. I couldn't find the sign for it; perhaps it was down a metal road. I descended the road for about 10 minutes but there was still no sign. This is a fairly common walkers experience: Do I continue with the route or cut my loses to avoid complete disaster? I chose the latter, but coming out of it, retracing my steps back to the summit was horrible but then it was a simple route to the base and freedom. I saw the same ragged possum, which stared at me and ran. So back down the summit track I went. Later I heard that if I had persisted down the metal road I'd have gotten to the trackhead soon.

I thought on the way down that all of the above could be an allegory for life. But the themes will always enmesh our lives to be learnt from if we desire. Or not, perhaps to our detriment.

Now boy-racers enjoy their needs for speed and danger by hurtling themselves in metal missiles down suburban streets. The tramper version of this is superior. Running down mountain tracks is the most exhilarating experience you can have tramping. Your eyes are fixed on the path searching for the safe places for your feet. You swing on branches. You jump over obstacles and duck low hanging branches. Of course there is always a risk you'll miscalculate and it could be your end or at least a chance of serious injury - but at least it isn't like the thick-skulled boy-racers who often imperil the lives of others.

I emerged at the bottom and the dashed over to my car. Unfortunately the adrenalin was still in my veins and on the way to Taupo was usually over the speed limit. Bad Daniel. Arriving, I discussed my topic of the year: Relationships and love. Later we played board games - it has been quite some time since I had.

The next day I did some things for the first time: abseiling and rockclimbing. The former I'm yet to really accept and the latter I'm getting the hang of - mainly that my mind has trouble accepting that it has to give confidence in the physical attributes of things out of faith: The foothold will hold. My leg can go to the groove. The shoes won't slip.
One thing I had faith in that didn't live up to expectation was the crotch of my pants, which must have given up during some of the climbs I did. I only climbed up the steep face three times but I am satisfied. I might try the rocknasium sometime.

Heading back, I trusted the directions given to me by one of my rock-climbing companions. "Take the left at the next T-junction, then right at the next one. Then there will be a sharp left and then a sharp right and then you'll be in Kihikihi" To a townie like me, that sounds like a piece of cake. Like where to walk to find a shop. But of the four directions given, getting to the first junction took an hour, the second another 40 minutes, the third 30 minutes and then the fourth 1 minute. It is strange how the briefness of the directions didn't represent the distance I'd be covering. But I trusted them and I was delivered to Kihikihi, a perfect example of how a suburban town should look.

I returned home to Auckland. The joy of my new location means I can shoot up the motorway and then from off-ramp to carpark takes only a minute. This is going to suck of course when I need to get back in rush-hour, but that is for another day.

"It's warmer now." I hope this weekend is a nice marker for the beginning of Spring, even if I do generally wait for the Equinox to celestially indicate its arrival. May this winter be buried post-haste.

Intensive care

'Moving on' so far has seemed something far from linear, but rather something akin to Snakes and Ladders. A misstep sends you back several lines, or potentially back to the beginning; I can say this from a place not far from square one. Snakes and Ladders is not a game of strategy, but one of luck. I'm not sure if moving on is the same - I hope not; I've tried some strategies but have been left here. I've just undertaken the most extreme strategy I can contemplate: complete isolation from the source. A ladder would be falling for someone else. That might be where the luck comes in.

I can feel great. I can believe I'm better. But it only takes three words to bring me to the brink of tears, and a poorly chosen fourth to take me down all together.

The Sting

Reality will always punish the rationalist; there is always more under the sun than we can fit in our systems. It reminds me of the scorpion and the frog.

A good life

One can get philosophical: We live in affluent countries; I have avoided a great many possible traumas in life so far. The effect of this, however, was to leave me psychologically unprepared for whatever inevitable life jolt that should arise; maybe it had even given me the fanciful thinking that I was strong and could handle with equanimity whatever could come up before me.

In the scheme of life heartbreak is apparently a common phenomenon; frankly, I've found it to be rather debilitating; all those poor people out there suffering along with me; perhaps, I wasn't as immediately sympathetic before. I know better now.

It makes me want to survey the experience of such pain. On three occasions in the last three and a half weeks, I've been reduced to an inconsolable heap and several other times it has come close to that extent. For me this process is quite regular: the latent tremor I have intensifies violently and becomes irrepressible; tears well and then the corners of my mouth do something I cannot event figure out; they kinda twist; I lose speech and strength and then the most stifled quiet screams emerge out of my mouth. The first time it happened I noticed that my mind virtually seemed to have broken in two: my rational mind was calmly thinking: 'oh bugger, that was pretty bad news; worse than I thought it would be; hey, what's up with the shakes?' while the other part shattered unable to even sustain a modicum of dignity.

The following day after it occurs I am blighted by the most hollow, sapped feeling. The first time it happened, I could actually work quite well despite the turmoil; the second time I was definitely distracted; while the day after my third (today) I was barely holding it together. Before the third time, I naively thought I was over the worst of it; and then consequently found that there was a while yet to go before I'm even remotely better.

For those I've talked to and who have sent me messages during this time, thank you. For those who I haven't told, sorry, circumstances may not have arisen or I just couldn't raise it at the time. Invite me out sometime.

Refresh

Last week was probably the bumpiest of the year: I was sick with a cold from Saturday to Monday; Xin was unwell too, and preparing for an art collaboration in Wellington; later in the week, something else viral hit me pressurising my skull and causing discomfort; I parted with Xin on a cold night; I had trouble on the Wellington Airbus where I had $3.20 on my card and coinage to make up the shortfall in the fare, which for some weird reason could not be accepted by the driver; and then my plane was delayed.

But today is another day; A Saturday; Winter solstice; Saturnalia, if Ancient Rome still existed and were in the Southern Hemisphere. I spent it tidying, planting trees, walking and running around the summit of Big King skyclad (I'll claim it as a religious observance). The latter was a spontaneous decision during a nice urban stroll. As I ascended the wind gathered with a light drizzle. When I reached the top, it was positively howling and threatening to unleash something furious. Perfect: It was elemental; it was glorious. Not a soul was around. It was the night of an All Blacks' test afterall.

Descending, I felt sublimely good; a sensation that has to be enjoyed in its ephemerality.

Oh lord, don't let me be misunderstood!

I recently met someone who is very presumptious of my words and actions. It is ironic because I can imagine many of the comments and thoughts I have had about other people in the past were equally presumptious.

That type of person

I generally consider myself able to communicate well with most people. But there is one kind of person that I seemingly always have trouble with. Fortunately, I have met only three of them in my life: they are all female; they seem to wait for me to say something when I am expecting them to speak; I speak just as they open their mouths to speak. In the perpetual confusion of when to speak, what to speak is frustrated to the point that nothing is said. Headaches abound and pound. Fortunately I'm teaching one: I think I've almost worked out how to.

Recurrent pain

Generally I'm not a person who gets angry or sad easily; but there is a definite sore point that can elicit a wince, a stiffled curse, an urge to strike and a clench of the teeth every single time. In some of the interactions I have with people I say something I regret, and recalling it each brings the same pang, the same pain and the same wince.

lifeThe (spinning) wheel of Justice

Another two days of jury service has provided me with more chatting and book-reading. Today I got as close as I have done so far to serving on a jury. My name was called. I stood up and took two steps before the accused uttered the word 'challenge' to send me back to my seat. My ex-con friend said that he recognised the accused from his time in prison; he just didn't recognise the name.

In other news, fate, intuition, or mere coincidence has come to bear relieving me of some festering guilt. When a team-mate in our Trailwalker team pulled out, he entrusted me with his sponsorship book and a donation cheque. Very regrettably, despite my best intentions, it was misplaced and had been missing for three months, presumed fatally recycled in a freak paper sorting accident. Despite repeated ransackings over the house and the general passing of time (which often brings lost objects to light), it never reemerged. This week is the last for donation books to be sent in and d-day in terms of sorting out the associated mess (calling OXFAM, that member and telling his donor to rip up their receipt etc.). I decided to call them yesterday, coming home from jury duty with the full intent of doing it as soon as I got in the door. I hesitated, procrastinated with the use of a book and my business accounting. Time moved forward to 4:30pm when I finally summoned enough resolve to get up to the phone and bite the bullet. But naturally I walked past the phone and into my room where I felt compelled to do some tidying. 'Perhaps it was in my old folders' my mind said. 'You're procrastinating' said my my conscience. It wasn't in my folders. I looked down at the bottom shelf of my desk and sore a little pile of things. I'd looked their before of course. But I was moved to look through them. Moving the top one revealed a sponsorship book beneath. I had found it! After dancing around the house and doing various victorious poses in glory, I sat down feeling elated before dashing out the door to my evening engagement.

All hail procrastination!

It is the emptiness of the wheel that gives it its function

My first day of jury duty ended with being randomly not selected for two trials, one long horrific one and one short milder one. I didn't even get to the point when I could be challenged by the lawyers. Nevermind, better luck tomorrow.

Natural rhythms

They are invading again! They are coming from all sides, through the gaps under the doors and through the windows. Pregnant Mantises, that is, ready to lay their egg cases in the dryness of the house. That desire causes me to remove them several times daily. They're are tripping over themselves to get in - sometimes at their own peril. I saw one enmeshed in a spiderweb and another had fallen into an uncovered jug with a little disinfectant in it. That isn't good for them. Fortunately the peak is over and border security can rest.

Jupiter is rising high in the night sky. With my new found astronomic awareness, I now am following its progress through the arc of the zodiac. It is absolutely stunning, currently residing in Scorpio, and is going to be in complete opposition (a Full Jupiter) on June 6. I can't wait. It is the last 'star' to disappear in the morning. Last week I was watching it till my carpool friend picked me up. It was still shining after the sun had risen!

The climax of this week however has already passed. In my third busy work week in succession, I had several additional obligations that sapped my time and energy. I can now rest with my Earl Grey Cream and reflect. Today especially was the culmination of a pile of work resulting in 6 hours of sustained activity: A speech at a powhiri (with a good proportion of te reo Maori), a conducting a lesson in Maori language, an hour session on culture and then instruction in Ti Rakau (maori stick games). There was a lot of good that came out of it. Namely, I met some really great people, and what's more, there were some fascinating conversations and there were some important discussions that flowed from the culture discussion. Everything went more smoothly than the last time I did facilitation at this event. My speech was more sophisticated in intent and language and was appreciated by the hosts. I am glad I was asked to help - although I don't like the idea that perhaps I am over-relied upon. I'd hope others are inspired to be able to do such sessions or to find people capable of doing so.

This week has also featured some rather startling ineffable realisations. Sometimes you require 'that' to clarify 'this' and then 'neither and both' to level 'them'. Never try to explain the ineffable. You start to sound like you are making stuff up.

A change in the weather

I drove home listening to the children's programme on Chinese radio, trailing a car that despite his best intentions to get ahead by driving over a zebra crossing with people on it, speeding, tailgating and generally aggressively driving, had failed to get any further ahead. The children's programme featured a segment The Mysterious World where they talk about the wonders of the natural world. I reversed into the garage in sunshine. I waited in the car listening about koalas. They apparently don't drink water. Soon as it finished the torrential rain was unleashed and so was I as I scurried up the 10m of stairs. Such a small distance yet such a drenching.

At work, my hours are swirling about too. Classes are appearing out of nowhere - other classes being cancelled.

My confidence in my fitness is now the highest it's been since September 2005. The true durability of my ankles is still something I can only take on faith - but it has survived several pounding walks. Last Sunday I lugged a 10kg backpack over the 20 kms of hills and have no signs of damage. A month remains until Trailwalker...