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freedom · gratitude

Ultimate Freedom

Joanne2 Comments

Today’s post will be a quick one, basically to keep my commitment to NaBloPoMo and postaday2011.

Not that I have nothing to say…there is always something to say!

It is 8pm on Friday night as I write this. And I’m alone.

Not lonely; but alone.

I feel like a real grown up!

I’ve had the house to myself all day and will be alone all night as well. My family all have places to go and people to see.

This is the first night I have spent alone in the last…um…over twenty five years!

So this is big!

I’ll fill you in on the details tomorrow.

I’m savouring every single moment of this serenity.

For now, I’m going to make the dinner of my choice, watch the television shows of my choice, go to bed in my own good time and wake up tomorrow when I feel like it.

Oh, the freedom of it all! 🙂

Uncategorized

The Sounds of Silence

Joanne2 Comments

How long has it been…three, perhaps four weeks, since I have spent the day alone, at home?

I can’t quite remember; it’s been so long, too long.

Days of solitude are a necessity to me, as essential as food and sleep.

But it hasn’t always been that way.

When my four children were all much younger the house was continually noisy, in one way or another. Talking, television switched on by the first child out of bed in the morning, music playing (in more than one room), phones ringing, and usually all at the same time!

On the odd occasion when I would be in the house, in silence, I couldn’t cope; I simply had to switch on music, or the television, anything to cut the deafening silence!

I’m not sure how the changes occurred, the changes within myself, which brought about the demand (yes, it was a demand!) for peace and silence around me.

The sounds around home have altered now. My second oldest lives in her own home now, my eldest is quiet by nature (thank you, God!), and then there’s the two teenagers.

As is the case with many siblings, they are constantly bickering, only pausing long enough to sing together. Yes, sing. They have the same taste in music and, as teenagers do, know every word, to every song they hear.

Their singing can actually be rather entertaining, especially so when I way up the pro’s and cons…would I rather listen to squabbling, or the singing? Hmm…

Today there will be no voices, no phones, no mobile phones, no skype, no texting, no online chatting ~ everyone is out.

I have the house to myself.

My herbal tea is made and my ironing awaits me. Whilst ironing, the only sounds I will hear will be the pattering of the raindrops falling, the occasional chorus of frogs croaking and the distant buzzing of the cicada’s.

It’s a day to restore my equilibrium, to silence my busy brain, to focus on the here and now.

A day to appreciate the Sounds of Silence….

(Photo credit ~National Geographic at Google Images)

Australia · nostalgia

The Blue Mountains

Joanne6 Comments

Two days ago I mentioned here on my blog page that I had lived in an area prone to bushfires ~ The Blue Mountains of New South Wales.

The Blue Mountains was my first home, the area where I spent the first thirteen years of my life.

Many years later I still reflect on those thirteen years with feelings of immense nostalgia. I’m sure I could start a separate blog entitled something along the lines of “Memories of my Early Life; Growing up in The Blue Mountains” and never run short on content!

They were happy years, filled with magical discoveries, exploring, adventure and learning, back in the days when the world was young and I possessed not a care in the world. *sigh*

The famous Australian poet, Henry Lawson, penned the most perfectly descriptive poem about the Blue Mountains, which I would like to share with you today.

Henry Lawson is an Australian icon, born in Grenfell, N.S.W. in 1867. Henry departed this world at an extremely early age, in 1922. I’m certain that upon his demise he took with him many untold stories and poems about Australia.

Today’s photo is another oldie from my first photo album. ‘Tis a very young “me” again, this time taken at Echo Point, Katoomba, the lookout of the world famous “Three Sisters”.

I do hope you enjoy the poem. It was written in 1888, after Henry had spent a few years living in the Blue Mountains himself.

The poem was copied from the book, “The World of Henry Lawson”, a book I discovered and purchased in 1983. No internet links provided for this one! 😉

I’ll leave you now with Henry Lawson, who is far more capable of describing the breathtaking landscape of the Blue Mountains, more lyrically than I would ever be capable of! 🙂

The Blue Mountains

Above the ashes straight and tall,

Through ferns with moisture dripping,

I climb beneath the sandstone wall,

My feet on mosses slipping.

Like ramparts round the valley’s edge

The tinted cliffs are standing,

With many a broken wall and ledge,

And many a rocky landing.

And round about their rugged feet

Deep ferny dells are hidden

In shadowed depths, whence dust and heat

Are banished and forbidden.

The stream that, crooning to itself,

Comes down a tireless rover,

Flows calmly to the rocky shelf,

And there leaps bravely over.

Now pouring down, now lost in spray

When mountain breezes sally,

The water strikes the rock midway,

And leaps into the valley.

Now in the west the colours change,

The blue with crimson blending;

Behind the far Dividing Range

The sun is fast descending.

And mellowed day comes o’er the place,

And softens ragged edges;

The rising moon’s great placid face

Looks gravely o’er the ledges.

floods · Mum · Tweed Valley

My Country

Joanne6 Comments

There’s been an awful lot of rain in my part of the world lately; rain, along with cooler temperatures.

Some areas of Queensland have flooded, while others are on flood alert.

The roads in northern New South Wales, where I live, are full of pot-holes. Apparently, the Tweed has been listed as a disaster area.

The rain is predicted to continue. Already it has been gauged that Australia has just had the wettest spring on record. Many of the dams throughout the country are full to overflowing.

An Australian politician has even declared, “This is a disaster of biblical proportions”.

Is there any good news?

Okay world, that all sounds like bad news. So how about some good news? Isn’t this a blog about “Everyday Inspirations”?

Yes, we’ve had a lot of rain, mostly in the sub-tropics (where I live) and further north in the tropics.

It’s summer, the cyclone season, the wet weather season. This is typical summer’s weather for these parts.

What isn’t typical is the cooler temperatures. Do you hear me complaining? Not a chance! We get enough heat in summer, on a regular basis. These cooler days are pure luxury!

The dams are overflowing. For many years, up until just recently, most areas that I know of, on the eastern side of Australia at least, have experienced water restrictions, due to drought. Livestock and plants have gone to God, due to lack of water.

We should be dancing and rejoicing in the rain!

The rain has prevented the usual outbreak of raging fires throughout the country. Hallelujah!

Has it always been this way?

During my lifetime I have lived through both fires and floods. My family was evacuated from our home when I was ten years old. We lived in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, an area prone to fires.

From nature’s point of view, fire is necessary to rejuvenate the bush!

From a human point of view, fire is destructive. It takes lives. It burns down houses. My Godmother and a close friend’s home were both destroyed in the aforementioned fires, but they survived. So I’m thankful.

When choosing an area to live in, isn’t it wise to find out if flooding is likely to occur? Or if the area is prone to bushfires? Or if venomous snakes have been sighted in your area? Or if the local aeroplane flight path goes over your home? Or if the during the burning of the sugar cane, ash is likely to litter your back yard?

That’s Australia.

Australia is Australia. It’s a harsh country. And that is the way it’s always been.

One of the most famous Australian poems is “My Country”, written by Australian born Dorothea Mackellar in the early 1900’s.

A rather lengthy poem, containing six verses, Dorothea began writing the poem in 1904, during a bout of home sickness. She was travelling through England and Europe and missing her homeland.

The poem was first published in the “London Spectator” in 1908, by its original title, “Core of my Heart”. It was republished in Australia at a later date and has been a favourite with Australian’s ever since.

The first verse of the poem refers to England. This is the second, and most famous verse of “My Country”.

“I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains

Of ragged mountain ranges

Of droughts and flooding rains.

I love her far horizons

I love her jewel sea,

Her beauty, and her terror ~

The wide brown land for me!”

~ Dorothea MacKellar (1885-1968)

If you would like to read the full version of “My Country”, it can be found on the Official Dorothea Mackellar Website.

Wikipedia also has further background history to the poem, along with information on Dorothea Mackellar herself here.

A Diverse Climate.

Australia has always had, and no doubt always will have, a very diverse climate. When you call Australia home, you learn to live with it, you get used to it, and yes, you love it!

P.S. The photo credit for today goes to my Mum. Yes, that’s a fifteen year old “me”, as my family prepared to batten down the hatches at the store we owned, in Murwillumbah, Northern N.S.W.

I was heading to our neighbouring business, (either to ask for or offer help, I don’t remember which). The river, only approximately 50 metres away was predicted to break its banks at any time.

My mother’s contribution during this time of crisis? Taking photos for posterity, of course! (I wish she were still here today to thank her!) 🙂

Australia · challenges · Changes · freedom · gratitude · happiness · inspiration

A Leap of Faith ~ Immigrating to a New Country

Joanne2 Comments
My sister Annette (centre) at Balgownie migrant hostel, N.S.W. Australia, 1951.

“What the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve.” ~ Napoleon Hill.

After World War II had finally ended in the mid 1940’s, England spent a number of years in recovery. Ration tickets to acquire certain food items were still being handed out, air raid shelters remained in residential back gardens and ex-soldiers struggled to find their place in society, during the post war years.

A virtual life line was extended to many of the walking wounded and their families, with promises of beginning a new and wonderful life in a land of sunshine.

Paying just ten pounds per adult and with children travelling for free, these English migrants were offered a ticket to board a ship, bound for Australia.

Those who accepted the offer became affectionately known as the “Ten Pound Poms”.

Even in this day and age, packing up your belongings and family, lock, stock and barrel, boarding an aeroplane and moving from one side of the world to the other would take a huge amount of courage.

Can you imagine the risks of making such a move some forty to sixty years ago, with little knowledge of what to expect, taking a voyage on a ship which would see you arriving at an unfamiliar destination around six to seven weeks after leaving England?

I’d call it nothing short of a leap of faith, and certainly not a move for the faint hearted.

And yet tens of thousands of so called “Ten Pound Poms” took up the offer, on nothing more than just a promise of a wonderful new life, which included work prospects, comfortable accommodation and a freer and more relaxed lifestyle in a warmer climate.

Upon arrival in Australia, many immigrants were to discover that the only guarantee they actually had was the warmer climate. Steady employment wasn’t as easy to acquire as they had been led to believe and the accommodation offered was in the form of a small hut, in what was known as a Migrant Hostel.

And yet most of the “Ten Pound Poms” rejoiced at the opportunity offered to them, a chance to start a brand new life in “The Lucky Country”.

Gone were the days of fear, struggle and uncertainty. In the eyes of these people, they had the world at their feet; anything was possible, opportunities abounded ~ they felt privileged and proud to call Australia “Home”.

In this day and age, I see the move these people made as a giant leap of faith; in those days, they saw it as a gilt-edged opportunity to begin a new life in a new country, away from the heartache they had experienced during the war years.

Numerous stories could be told of the families who risked everything, in search of a more prosperous life to share with those they loved, stories of the heartache and joy experienced during those early days of their new lives, in a new country, on the other side of the world.

One day I will tell my story. Am I a “Ten Pound Pom”? No, but my whole family were. My parents and three sisters made that giant leap of faith in 1951, many years before I was ever thought of.

There’s is a story of hope, inspiration, commitment, struggles, happiness, gratitude and simplicity, but most of all faith…faith in themselves and faith in the promises held in an unknown land. And when I share their story, it will be told with all of the pride and admiration I feel towards my courageous and unassuming family.

If you have the means to honour the actions of someone you know, who also took a leap of faith at some stage in their lives, why not share the story and give them the recognition they so well deserve? Why not write your own article of inspiration?

It will offer reassurance to anyone who reads your story that whatever they set their mind to doing, it can be achieved…because it can.

There’s no such word as “can’t”. 🙂

Photo credit : http://www.migrationheritage.nsw.gov.au