Jitters

I have the pre-first-day-of-school jitters.

The kind where you’re so excited that it’s hard to even imagine going to sleep.

Except that I’m not going to school tomorrow… I’m going to America.

Well, technically I’m not going to America. I’m going to Sydney so we can leave for America the next morning.

But whatever.

Tomorrow’s the day we pack our toothbrushes and board the plane.

Tomorrow’s the day we switch into holiday mode.

Tomorrow’s the day we go on a family adventure.

Tomorrow’s the day we head from winter into summer. (Oh please God, give us summer-ish weather in Oregon. Please?)

Between the excitement of the Voice finale and the trip beginning tomorrow, who knows if I will ever fall asleep tonight. But for everyone’s sake, I’d better go and try.

STOP.

 

Q for you: When’s the last time you got those excited jitters I’m talking about?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

More

I’m having one of those “alien” days.

The kind where you feel like a foreigner in your own land.

I’ve written about this before – about the feeling that you belong, but not quite. The longing for something more.

It’s the hope of heaven. The promise of a real home.

And it’s not that I’m discontent where I’m at.

The opposite really – I love my home, my family, the life we’ve built.

But I know there’s more.

Perhaps it has something to do with returning from a place (Sydney) where I always feel a glimpse of destiny. A something “other” that I don’t even know how to pinpoint.

Perhaps it has something to do with remembering what it’s like to connect with friends from a special (favorite) season of my life.

But whatever it is, the feeling is there. Real, raw, a little bit nagging.

The calm after the storm and the anticipation of the next one all rolled into one.

And I remember that I’m an alien here.

I really don’t belong.

My passport says USA. My address says Australia. But my heart says heaven.

My home is not here.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Do you ever feel like you belong, and yet don’t belong?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

Going away and coming home

I just returned from the most refreshing three days I’ve had in a long time.

Judah and I went to Sydney where I met up with friends–most of whom I haven’t seen in five years–and visited family.

We ate Thai. We picnicked in the park. We got absorbed in the city. We talked about deep and meaningful issues. We walked miles and miles and miles, pushing strollers all the way.

I had pockets of “alone” time – small ones – but enough to remember how much I love breathing city air and merging into the bustle. (Alone time, meaning just Judah and I.)

There were special moments between my son and I that are hard to articulate, but I’m so grateful for. We’re closer because of it.

It’s hard to explain why this weekend was so perfect, but it just was.

And as I collapsed  into bed last night – exhausted and sore – I had a smile on my face knowing that I’d wake up and go home again.

Home to my family, home to my loves, home to my heart.

Going away is amazing. But coming home is even better.

(I missed this guy.)

I’m so grateful for this weekend away. My heart is truly full.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you been away lately? Do you love coming home as much as I do?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

City and country

I’ll probably never fully be able to understand it or explain it.

I was born and raised in small towns but I feel most at home in the city. Always have.

I remember as a kid going to Portland – a small city that I thought of as a “big city” back then. It always gave me a thrill. I loved the traffic and freeways and tall buildings and bustle.

I loved the fashion. I loved the movement.

I’ve never been to a city I didn’t love, although I’ve travelled in cities all over the world in both developed and developing countries.

But no matter where they are, cities captivate me.

The countryside is gorgeous and I adore the mountains… but I’m happy to seek rest there and then return to “normalcy” in the city where life bursts from the seams and sidewalks are filled with diversity and rhythm.

I’ve always known I would be a city girl.

As an adult I understand the pull a bit more:

I love the nations and they way they melt into urban centers and yet still bring with them so much culture and interest. (There’s a togetherness in the separateness–and a separateness in the togetherness–which I love.)

I love the beauty they offer – the art, the music, the theater, the style.

I love that they are a microcosm and a snapshot of the nation at large.

I love that they are the seat of power and government and commerce and education.

I love them so much that I find it hard to understand why anyone would want to live anywhere else.

And yet after seven years of living in the city I’m once again living in a small town (and have for the last four years).

We’ve never really been a great fit – the small town and I.

And yet I know I’m where I should be – my small town by the sea.

If I’m lucky, someday I’ll live in my city by the sea.

Sydney would do just fine.

STOP.

 

 

Q for you: Are you a city person or a small town person?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink FIve | Five minutes a day, unedited. 

What I hate about Australia (besides giant bugs)

There are so many things to love about Australia:

The sun.

Gorgeous beaches.

Ridiculously cute animals like koalas and wallabies.

Cool buildings like the Opera House.

Indigenous art.

Bush dances.

BBQ culture.

Passionate sports fanatics.

Words and phrases like “mate” and “g’day” and “no worries”.

The amazing (Asian) food that you can find everywhere.

Teh fact that most people don’t take themselves too seriously and are quick to have a laugh.

Morning tea.

Afternoon tea.

I love so much about this nation. So much. (I’ve been here 12 years, duh.)

But there is one thing I hate. (And yes, I know “hate” it a very, very strong word. One I don’t use often.)

Yes, I hate the cockroaches, the ants, and the mosquitoes that I come across on a daily basis… but that’s not what I’m talking about.

What I’m talking about is this:

THE AUSTRALIAN SHOPPING TROLLY.

(Otherwise known as a shopping cart.)

I have never, ever, EVER driven one of these things that steers correctly. Tehy are not made to balance and flow like the American ones.

They simply will not go in a straight line when in less than perfect circumstances.

Going around a bend (with a full cart) is like trying to pull a semi-truck around a hair-pin turn on the side of a mountain pass. Ugh.

Trying to push a cart with 50+ pounds of groceries in it and steering it in teh right direction when there is any remote slope to the ground is virtually impossible… Comparable to crocodile wrestling. (Just try to imagine that.)

I’m convinced that the CEOs of Woolworths and Coles have never gone grocery shopping a day in their lives.

If they had we would be seeing some radical reforms in the trolly department.

A nation that’s built the Sydney harbor bridge, hosted the Olympics, and engineered countless other modern marvels…. yet they can’t figure out how to make a decent shopping cart.

(Embarrassing.)

So this, my friends, is the thing I hate about Australia.

Shopping trollies.

STOP.

 

Q for you: Have you ever tried to wrangle an Australian shopping cart?

 

Love,
A

 

Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.