Well, it actually IS winter...
and I actually AM in Sydney.
How ironic that this almost "annual" blog only involves itself in my life when I am in winter (contemplative, cold, burrowing), and in Sydney (a city that, in winter, is hardly itself.).
How do I find myself today? How do I approach this tiny corner of cyberspace at the moment?
Sydney in winter continues without showing any signs of ceasing. I find myself wishing for the warmth, for the freedom and fresh air of being able to go outside. I am sitting in a different place than the previous 2 posts: last one on Bower Street in Manly, last year on Lochness Court in Vienna, now on Cliff Street in Manly.
My email box is calling: absolutely shocking after having spent 4 weeks away from it. Correspondence can be a full time job: and though I love it, it doesn't come as easy as writing here, with whatever and whenever.
Tomorrow is full on with helping the boys and going to work after Grace's Charlotte's Web play at school. Work is flat out. Difficult as anything and sad. Seemingly unaffected by the joy and motivation of the Olympics, the clusters of abused, traumatized and poor are always there, lurking.
I wish that the spirit of the Olympics, the energy and optimism and discipline, could transform whole communties, but I guess that is the go, anyway: the spirit of the Olympics isn't inherently transformative. But what and where are people being transformed.... and by a spirit of what?
Of course, I know what the answer should be, but as far as physical validation, I guess I am not really getting it.
May it not be another year, another Winter Sydney day until I post again!
