A Dog's Eye: A Moving Story

Without wishing to downplay the stress involved in what happened, this is not a heartwarming, emotional post. It's a post about shifting: changing situations, attitudes, jobs, and addresses.

                                                     (unrelated cute dog photo to warm your heart)

If there has been one consistent theme to my prayers over the last 3-5 years, it has been peace and simplicity. These two things are not necessarily easy bedfellows, nor are they always found inhabiting reality. I would like a peaceful and simple life, but neither my choices nor the circumstances of my life - not all of which are the results of my choices - promote the achievement of that goal.

I'm forcing myself to write this because I haven't written for a while. I found a slot on Sundays before church in which I was regularly adding content to this blog. Two Sundays ago, we moved house which meant I not only didn't write but I wasn't able to attend church. Last Sunday, I was too tired which has become normal for me these days because I am having to get up ridiculously early to go to work.

                                                https://www.vox.com/2014/11/10/7184149/social-jetlag-sleepy

Wait a minute, I hear you say. You're a writer. Why do need to get up before Sparrows to go to work? You set your own hours, so why not get up later to give yourself sufficient sleep? Alas, being a full time writer remains a dream for me, albeit one which I am pursuing with much more focus and vigour than I have previously done.

We've got bills to pay so I thought a part time delivery job would help, particularly as working AM shifts means I am free to write in the afternoons. I don't work every day at this delivery job which I've been doing for a month now, so I have full days which I can devote to writing. Theoretically.

Yesterday, I had 'all day 'for example, but I spent three hours trying to do something unrelated to work; a home project to help my wife. It would not have been so bad had I actually been successful, but I failed miserably which left me thinking I had wasted half a day. So much can happen every day; thousands of other needful things, distractions and interruptions all working against my plan. 

Speaking of thousands of things, it's incredible how every day at the delivery job throws up new challenges. It's much more difficult than I thought it was going to be, and I'm certain I will grow to hate doing it before too long. However, I prayed for a job, searched for jobs, applied for many, and this is the one I got. It's not all bad. I love meeting people, chatting on porches, driving around the Illawarra enjoying the beautiful scenery, and of course, I enjoy getting paid.

The problem is I can't shake the nagging doubt that it's taking me away from where my focus should be. Writing. At times it seems like there is a conspiracy operating against me. Even my own energy levels aren't supporting me in pursuing my dream. I feel stuck, and unsure what to do.

We didn't want to move from Albion Park Rail and it was a monumental hassle; not to mention stressful as we had a very short time to find a new home and make it all happen. Despite the pain and inconvenience, we are definitely better off. The new house is better situated, bigger, and cheaper. I've even got an office. What a luxury to have my own room in which to work. Sure, I don't have any furniture apart from a camping chair and a large carton which is serving as a desk, but I have the space and the space will be filled in due course.

Lockdown has finally ended, so my wife has been able to resume her hairdressing and massage business. She's happy, so I'm happy. Things just keep on changing and I keep on adjusting, remembering to always remain thankful, but it isn't quite how I want it to be.

Out of necessity, I deliberately override my feelings, and try to move into the right space - the right metaphorical space - by being positive and refusing to let go of the dream.

I say it often because I believe it. There is always hope. Everything is temporary, everything passes in time. The biblical injunction to give thanks in all circumstances and to rejoice always requires discipline. Living by faith means sometimes ignoring one's feelings and choosing to see things the way God sees them. I said everything is temporary, but things of the spirit are not. God is not. He doesn't change. I can trust him because he's good and he's proven himself faithful to me.

Money is tight. My freelance writing career is in a trough. I have no money to advance my personal writing projects. I'm doing a job I don't really like in order to pay off a large and long standing debt as well as contribute to rent, food and other household expenses. It doesn't feel right nor does it look right, but I have no sense that it is not right.

I'm going to watch television now and come back to this tomorrow after I deliver groceries, then come home and take a nap. On we go. Did I move you?

A Dog's Eye: Freefaller

I stepped off the edge, but I didn't fall. Was it a miracle? Was it luck? Was it, in fact what I had suspected all along? That if I surrendered my right to financial security based on working 9 to 5 for a wage, I would survive? 

On April 8 this year I was made redundant. My role as lead teacher was identified by management as one which was unnecessary. I was no longer required. I couldn't help feel, as I still do, that the decision to deem my position surplus to requirements cast a pall on everything I had done during my two and half years with the company. It doesn't mean my contributions had no value, but it's difficult not to see it that way.

Losing my job was a good thing. Even though I enjoyed most aspects of the work, and of course I loved the regular pay packet and the associated tax benefits of working for a not-for-profit organisation, I wanted to leave. I had been praying for a way out.

Ever since I was gifted an old 486 computer, in 1998, and made the subsequent decision that I wanted to be a writer, I have been dreaming of achieving that goal. Of course, I could never pursue that dream full time. For mostly financial reasons, my writing remained a hobby, until April 8, 2021.

The time had come. I once dreamed of being a professional writer, of earning my living exercising my brain and my imagination by tapping on the keyboard of my laptop. Now I dream of more. I am a writer. Although it has taken some time to get used to, I now tell people when they ask what I do. I tell them I am a writer. Thanks for asking, I say then I give them one of my business cards. I'm a writer, but I'm not earning a living...not yet. I'm in a kind of freefall. Financially untethered.

I have six novels and scores of published short stories under my belt, but I've only made pocket money from these works. I have a memoir which is nearly ready to be published, and I've almost finished the first draft of what will be my seventh novel. My most recent short story will feature in an upcoming anthology. This is one aspect of my writing, one half, if you like, of my work as a writer. These are my projects. They bear my name. They carry my hopes. These are the projects will fuel my creative fire.

The other half is the new world of freelance writing: content articles, short stories, longer works of fiction, non fiction books, and even speeches. I get paid for them but none of these works bear my name because I'm a ghostwriter. Someone else gets the glory. I do get paid way more than I've ever earned from those pieces which bear my name though. It's not regular pay either, and mostly it's not big money and a lot of it is just work. The passion I feel for my work is missing with this ghostwriting work. It's just work.

The two platforms I've been using to find freelance writing work since I began my freefall are Upwork and Freelancer. Yesterday I made the decision to leave Freelancer. I apologize for teasing you. I did say in my previous post that I would discuss the differences between these two platforms in this post. However, when I sat down to write, I was carried away to another place. Not far away mind you. Not the bottom of the cliff from which I stepped off. I'm not going to reach the bottom, by the way. I'm on the way up because God caught me soon after I yielded to gravity. I'm safe, even though I don't always feel safe, I am.

I'm a freelancer. I'm a writer. My decisions are based on that fact now. How does this or that support my quest to return to my previous income level, or higher, on the back of my writing? That's the question.

Why have I dumped Freelancer? Why do I much prefer Upwork? How is my journey from hobby writer to professional going? Next time, I promise to lay it all out for you.

A Dog's Eye: Life's a Funny Thing

The day had not gone at all according to plan, and as I sat in the taxi, I was contemplating how unfair it all was. For a fraction of the cost, I should have been riding a bus. My intention was to test the route for the children to get to and from school. Alas, it was not to be. What now I wondered? And this on top of everything else.

We arrived in Wollongong on June 1, after an eight day road trip from Darwin. We spent three weeks at mum's place, looking for work, looking for a place to live, praying things would work out, fighting the doubt which naturally arises following each disappointment. Each closed door, each rejected rental application, providing opportunity for us to allow despair and regret to run us over, or to praise God for the opportunity to trust him. Remember, prior to our departure, we had confidently stepped out in the deep ocean of uncertainty and insecurity to trust the God who called us.

We did all that we could. The children started school, and I continued to apply for jobs, as well as pursuing my dream by writing. When we finally received a 'yes' from an estate agent, we were naturally elated, but soon after began to worry how we would pay the rent. My wife and I took turns encouraging each other to keep the faith. Why would God help us get a place to live, then not help us to pay the rent? That was absurd. I kept applying for writing jobs and many others, some in my professional field, others not.

The house we got became yet another test, as many unsatisfactory elements only became apparent after we moved in. We struggled at times to stay thankful in the face of so many irritating little problems. Some, like the lack of functional TV antenna, and missing locks on the windows in the main bedroom, were serious, others less so.

With my redundancy payout now exhausted, no income, and no prospect of paid employment, an unexpected and avoidable taxi fare was nearly the straw which broke this camel's back.

So I sat in the cab, feeling sorry for myself, wondering when this season of insecurity would end. I had a feeling I should talk to the driver. I'd said hello, and asked how he was when we boarded, but had maintained silence since then. I didn't want to talk to him, but the thought persisted that I should. Three times I felt the urge, and each time I was given the exact words to use to open the conversation. Finally, I relented.

'Life's a funny thing, isn't it?' I said, turning to the driver.

We chatted for the remaining fifteen minutes of the trip, after which I realised how talking to him had lifted my spirits. Either by functioning as a distraction, or releasing a blessing because I responded, albeit reluctantly, to a prompting to start a conversation, doing it had made me feel better. Much better.

When I related this story to my wife, I became aware of the fear which had insidiously crept in and was negatively affecting everything. Our feelings, our words and our decisions. We talked it out and agreed to reject that fear and continue to walk in faith.

Then COVID joined the party and the city in which we live was ordered into a two week lockdown. 

Yesterday, looking resplendent in our face masks, and rugged up against the cold to which we are still adjusting, we caught a bus to the mall to do our grocery shopping. Did I mention we don't have a car at the moment? It's at the smash repairer because we hit a kangaroo 50km west of Renmark, South Australia.

You gotta laugh. Really. Life is a funny thing. I have even more time now to write and work on things writing related. I feel quite relaxed, even though we will soon be pillaging our nest egg to pay the rent and everything else. Externally, nothing really seems to be happening. We're quite stuck, but internally, we are growing stronger together, and continuing to laugh, even when we feel like crying.

A Dog's Eye: Space Invaders

It's funny you know. I didn't plan to write at all about the only thing people want to talk about. (Even if the main topic is not COVID-19, the subtext often is.) I guess the rebel in me, the one that might be condemning me to obscurity as a writer, just wanted to swim upstream.

I must be getting old and soft as I've just given in and jumped on the bandwagon. Partly, it's common sense. If I want to be in the world, why pretend that what the world cares about is a figment of overactive imagination? It's not. It would be stupid to think so. It's real and although I don't feel anxious, I acknowledge that many do. I wouldn't be a very good human if I didn't care about that. 

The other reason I'm writing about it is because it is having an impact on me. How could it not? Who hasn't been touched by what's happening? On Friday afternoon, we closed to students and will be switching to online delivery even though we, neither teachers nor students, are ready for that. As a result of the scramble to get ready, I've been employing a lot of mental energy to think of, process and implement various solutions to the myriad of problems which keep popping up. I'm not on my Pat Malone. Many people are facing exactly the same issues, or a host of different complications. Personally and professionally, COVID19's footprint is significant.

I don't recall ever spending so much time thinking about work as I have this week. I'm very good at switching off. I don't bring work home because I don't have to. I don't feel any obligation to complete work outside of the hours I'm paid for, nor to invest time and energy in solving work problems when I'm not at work. Of course, it happens sometimes, but as a rule, when I leave my office I leave my office behind.

This week has been different. I'm acutely aware I'm operating at a much higher level than normal. Those spaces reserved for non work related thinking are being invaded. Last night, I went to bed early and slept soundly. I told my wife, my brain was exhausted, but I was exaggerating...a little. If I was operating under my own strength, I wouldn't be able to maintain this intensity. However, my God is my strength and my song, and he gives me a fresh start each day. This morning I woke up good to go. Thankfully, I have two days at home before resuming the battle.

My prayer for everyone is that we become stronger through this trial. That we care more, love more and give more. That we value things we have taken for granted, and that we figure out what really matters and live out that belief instead of just paying lip service to it.

Celebrating teams #CTST

Last weekend I was dying of man flu. I had to take Monday off, but I was still battling the lurgy when I returned to work and through the rest of the week. And a busy week it was. I had four evening engagements planned. I made it to three of them. I want to tell you briefly about the two more significant ones.

On Wednesday night, I attended 'team night' at my church, C3 Darwin. Team night is a celebration for all those who serve in any capacity in the church: welcome teams, cafe teams, service hosts, parking attendants, connect group leaders (that's where I fit in), and the music team.

We ate together, then worshiped, and listened to a message of encouragement and thanks from our pastor. Well over a hundred dedicated souls were there, and it was a very uplifting and fun occasion. 

On Thursday night, I had dinner with another great team, albeit a much smaller one: my colleagues. We dined at Memories of India as we farewelled our longest serving employee. The departure of this very likeable and valuable team member, leaves me as the longest serving employee now. Management have decided not to replace him, so in his absence, our team of hardworking and dedicated staff will continue to do what we do best. To serve our students, and care for and support one another.

On the occasion of these two celebrations, I am grateful to be a part of two wonderful teams.

The Twilight Zone #CTST

I was surprised to see that my last post was six weeks ago. Where have I been? Where have you been, Dave? 

I finished work on December 11 and flew home to see my family which was great. Then I spent a week holidaying in Phuket which was a little crazy, but also super relaxing. Returning to Darwin on New Years Eve, I didn't make it to midnight, opting instead for a 12 hours catch up sleep beginning at 10pm. With one week, at that stage, before I had to return work, I did a whole lot more of nothing, but did manage to get sick (a really bad cold-almost man flu) for the first time since moving to Darwin in August 2016. Thankfully there was plenty of cricket to watch, and everyone knows how much I love that great game. Back at work, I was a little lethargic, but eventually got back into the groove, and before long the whole holiday seemed like a dream.

I think that's one of the things I really like about vacations. especially overseas or even interstate trips: they are real, but not quite real. There's an ephemeral quality to life in another place where you don't work, you just rest and play. You save, plan and wait, then you enter the twilight zone.

Then, like a flash of lightning in a stormy sky, it ends before you want it to, before you can really enjoy it, and soon becomes just another memory.

2018 is here. 2017 seems like so long ago.

Celebrate the small things: the air rushing out

This time last week I had just farewelled mum at the airport after her week visiting us here in Darwin. I know she had a great time, and I certainly loved having her here, especially as her visit coincided with my birthday. Mum was typically meticulous in her planning (despite her son's deficiencies in this area), and exuberant in pursuit of new experiences and knowledge. This is one of the many reasons I love her: she remains active in life, and sharp and inquisitive in the mind. Mum is not one to stagnate, nor will she let life pass her by. In this way, I am very much my mother's son.

When mum left, life resumed its usual cadence, although this past week has been an interesting one, particularly at work. A former employee, more than merely disgruntled as it turns out, lodged a formal complaint against us to the regulatory body which oversees Registered Training Organisations (RTOs) in Australia. His allegations are all either false, or at best exaggerated. We have had to assemble evidence to respond to these allegations. In spite of the inconvenience and the disappointment, we feel this investigation against us will turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

I finished work early yesterday so Jessie and I went to Berry Springs for a swim. It was a perfectly excellent and super relaxing way to finish off a challenging week. This morning I went to a men's breakfast at church which was great. Not so great was getting a punctured tyre on the drive home. I got a little dirty and pretty sweaty changing the tyre, but at least I had a good spare in the boot.

For mum, and her visit, for my workmates and the way we stick together and help one another, for the beautiful and peaceful Berry Springs, for the men's ministry at church and for my trusty Ford Falcon XR6...I am truly grateful.

What challenges did life throw at you this week? How did they inspire gratitude?

Celebrate the small things: Life's little pleasures

I work late on Fridays because I have so much marking to do, and I also need to prepare for the following week's class. When I finish work, I head into town for my Friday grocery shop, and I return via the bottle shop, here in Parap, where I purchase my reward.

Life is full of little pleasures, little treats: a rest, a break, a reward. I am not even close to being a workaholic. Work has never been my priority. I enjoy work, and I am not lazy, but I work to live, not vice-verca. The beer and the nuts reward is just one of the many ways I chill in order to keep as calm and relaxed as possible. 

Chilled is not my normative state. I'm inclined to be a worrier, and a stress head, but as I sipped my Boag's draught from the beer stein my son bought for me when he was in Germany, and chewed on those crunchy, salty nuts, I was thinking about nothing except the pleasure those things were giving me.

Destination Unkown

If you catch a train to work, you arrive at the train station knowing what time your train is due. It might arrive on schedule or late, or even be cancelled, but eventually you will get to your destination. The trip itself will be predictable and unless you have a good book, somewhat boring. After eight hours or so, you will ride the train home again. You paid for a return ticket because you don't want to stay at your destination. You want to go home.

Maybe you are about to take a long overdue and well earned vacation. You have chosen a destination from literally thousands of possibilities, a place where you really want to get away from it all and relax. You might catch a ship or fly, you'll find when your transport departs and from where, and you'll be there, on time and ready to go.

The time spent travelling to your holiday destination may be predicable and not especially enjoyable but when you get there you'll have bucket loads of fun. After a week or two you'll have to go home, and although you might want to stay on vacation a little longer, you can't. You bought a return ticket, so you have to go home. In fact, part of you wants to go home.

It doesn't matter where we go, or how long we stay, or for what reason we are travelling. Most of us will always want to go home eventually. Home is where we belong.

Life is often described as journey, and it is a good analogy. It is a voyage which we must all make and one for which we cannot purchase a return ticket. We do not choose to be born, and death is unavoidable. Much of what happens in between is beyond our control. Sometimes we feel as though we have very little choice, or worse; no choice at all.

We do however have a choice about the final destination of our souls. The Bible says that choice is simple. Hell is eternity without God. Heaven is eternity with God.

Of the two, heaven is the preferred destination, and the only way to get there is to choose to repent of your sin and place your faith in Jesus Christ. Climb aboard the train which is bound for the glory of our eternal home. It is where we belong.