The Circle of Life
With the large amount of rain falling upon the ground over the last several days, I have noted with some interest how much damage a persistent drop in the one place can do. I have noticed a rock on the side of my house actually start wearing away as the drops consistently fall in the one spot. Kind of makes me think how much one person can achieve with persistence, focus and direction. I would like to think of that drop being a little like myself. I am still trying, still nudging the success barrier I can almost "feel" it happening.
When I think about the seemingly weak elements like a water droplets power, it would be hard to go past a single blade of grass as it breaks through the concrete ceiling and overcomes it's captor as well. I marvel at simple things. I am kind of strange that way I guess. For example when my car pulls up at a set of lights and I happen to glance at a leaf or a person or piece of paper, I actively think, I will never see that moment or object or person ever again, and I try to "drink" the moment in, almost as though it is my last.
I am, and have always been, conscious of life's fragility. I think losing my adopted Father when I was but 14 taught me that early. I recall going to a school sponsored week of swimming instruction at the Parramatta Council swimming pool at the same time my Dad was going to be operated on by the late, and great, sadly murdered, surgeon Dr. Victor Chang, when my school friends in the way 14 year olds ask, "Could your Father Die?". I of course answered "Yeah!", thinking it would be cool that my Dad was undergoing life threatening surgery. It just never occurred to me that it was life threatening surgery, or that he would actually die. I was stunned and motionless when I heard the news. I was sent to my friend John's house at Long Reef on Sydney's northern beaches. I remember being across the road at the beach on the Monday, the 3rd of December 1979 when I came back to John's home when his Mum said, "Craig ring home". I did, and knew something was up when a family friend Kay answered the phone and said "I will get Mum, hang on" and then Mum came to the phone and said simply "He's gone Craig, Dad died today, can you come home, I am sorry to interrupt your fun at your friends house". I don't recall my response other than feeling like I was instantly wrapped in cotton wool and protected. I also remember the week before my Dad's funeral as the most "numbing" I ever felt. It can best be described as a week of a "slow down" that can occur to you just before you have a car accident or a big fall where for a moment everything hits a massive slow mo button on a mythical real life remote as though it's natures way of cushioning the imapact. And it did.
I think further that it is an interesting phenomena that we as people are all walking volumes of experience. My dear friend Lynn, and many others are a marvel to me. I have listened intently to some of Lynn's life experience and to that of others as well and I cannot help feel a huge degree of gratitude that I am given, as all of us are, the ability to share and learn from each other. To illustrate further my point here, I am led to the the lyrics of Disney's Lion King song "The Circle of Life" written by Sir Tim Rice whom my friend Glenn A. knows as a friend and ally.
From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round
Chorus:
It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life
Today my wish for myself and for those who visit here is that we may, each of us, find "our place", and as we move through the circle of life, understand that the only way we can see more than can be seen is to learn and share with others, their hopes and dreams, their fears and their sorrows. My life has certainly not panned out the way I imagined as a young boy of 14. I really missed a Fathers influence in my life. There were some who stood in as friends to help me learn how to drive, and some who tried to guide me, all of which I am grateful for. I have largely made choices, not all of which the outcomes I would have wanted or realised at the time, but I am still standing. I am still here. I may stand feebly at times, but I am still standing nonetheless. I am grateful for life and the chance I have to participate in the wonderful journey it is. I am especially grateful for all of you who visit and contribute to, and enrich my life experience.
Todays pics are of my dad, Arena Tumu Peihopa (Allen James Bishop in English), and a group of 3 pictures of me at 2, at 6 and at 14. The one at 14 is a polaroid picture taken of me the day after I found out Dad died. I was in a complete daze. I recall going past a shop called Elton Ward photography and they were showing the new sensation of a polaroid "take it and have it now" camera. They took a picture and this is it. Check out my hair, and see the dirty ring mark around my neck. I was in a complete trance as I remember.I am not embarrassed looking at my own pictures. I can look and say that was me.
Take care you guys
CP
When I think about the seemingly weak elements like a water droplets power, it would be hard to go past a single blade of grass as it breaks through the concrete ceiling and overcomes it's captor as well. I marvel at simple things. I am kind of strange that way I guess. For example when my car pulls up at a set of lights and I happen to glance at a leaf or a person or piece of paper, I actively think, I will never see that moment or object or person ever again, and I try to "drink" the moment in, almost as though it is my last.
I am, and have always been, conscious of life's fragility. I think losing my adopted Father when I was but 14 taught me that early. I recall going to a school sponsored week of swimming instruction at the Parramatta Council swimming pool at the same time my Dad was going to be operated on by the late, and great, sadly murdered, surgeon Dr. Victor Chang, when my school friends in the way 14 year olds ask, "Could your Father Die?". I of course answered "Yeah!", thinking it would be cool that my Dad was undergoing life threatening surgery. It just never occurred to me that it was life threatening surgery, or that he would actually die. I was stunned and motionless when I heard the news. I was sent to my friend John's house at Long Reef on Sydney's northern beaches. I remember being across the road at the beach on the Monday, the 3rd of December 1979 when I came back to John's home when his Mum said, "Craig ring home". I did, and knew something was up when a family friend Kay answered the phone and said "I will get Mum, hang on" and then Mum came to the phone and said simply "He's gone Craig, Dad died today, can you come home, I am sorry to interrupt your fun at your friends house". I don't recall my response other than feeling like I was instantly wrapped in cotton wool and protected. I also remember the week before my Dad's funeral as the most "numbing" I ever felt. It can best be described as a week of a "slow down" that can occur to you just before you have a car accident or a big fall where for a moment everything hits a massive slow mo button on a mythical real life remote as though it's natures way of cushioning the imapact. And it did.
I think further that it is an interesting phenomena that we as people are all walking volumes of experience. My dear friend Lynn, and many others are a marvel to me. I have listened intently to some of Lynn's life experience and to that of others as well and I cannot help feel a huge degree of gratitude that I am given, as all of us are, the ability to share and learn from each other. To illustrate further my point here, I am led to the the lyrics of Disney's Lion King song "The Circle of Life" written by Sir Tim Rice whom my friend Glenn A. knows as a friend and ally.
From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round
Chorus:
It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life
Today my wish for myself and for those who visit here is that we may, each of us, find "our place", and as we move through the circle of life, understand that the only way we can see more than can be seen is to learn and share with others, their hopes and dreams, their fears and their sorrows. My life has certainly not panned out the way I imagined as a young boy of 14. I really missed a Fathers influence in my life. There were some who stood in as friends to help me learn how to drive, and some who tried to guide me, all of which I am grateful for. I have largely made choices, not all of which the outcomes I would have wanted or realised at the time, but I am still standing. I am still here. I may stand feebly at times, but I am still standing nonetheless. I am grateful for life and the chance I have to participate in the wonderful journey it is. I am especially grateful for all of you who visit and contribute to, and enrich my life experience.
Todays pics are of my dad, Arena Tumu Peihopa (Allen James Bishop in English), and a group of 3 pictures of me at 2, at 6 and at 14. The one at 14 is a polaroid picture taken of me the day after I found out Dad died. I was in a complete daze. I recall going past a shop called Elton Ward photography and they were showing the new sensation of a polaroid "take it and have it now" camera. They took a picture and this is it. Check out my hair, and see the dirty ring mark around my neck. I was in a complete trance as I remember.I am not embarrassed looking at my own pictures. I can look and say that was me.
Take care you guys
CP
Comments