A Light in the Dark

I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore. No one on this earth actually cares about me. Some pretend, sure, but no one really cares. No one would notice if I just suddenly disappeared from their lives. No one would notice the absence of my presence. So why am I still here? I’ve asked myself this question so many times, but I still can’t find an answer. I just am. I just am.

The terrors of my past haunt me. They won’t leave me alone. I hate the night because that’s when they enter into my weakest moments; in my dreams. Day is feared. Day brings back the memories of what’s been done. Haunted in daylight; haunted in darkness.

I prefer the darkness. In the darkness I can hide. The terrors and secrets of my past are hidden in the darkness. It is there no one can find me. It I there no one will look. Everyone seems to be afraid of the darkness. They are afraid of what it hides. It comforts me. The darkness is my friend.

Ghostly figures float before my eyes, illuminating me in the darkness. A man, a woman, a young boy, a young girl. All dead. They know me. They call me by name. But they do not care about me. They haunt me. They will continue to haunt me. They will remind me of what’s been done until the day I die.

Suddenly I am alone. Standing suspended in a pure white light. I am not standing on anything, but I do not fall. The light pierces my body and I cry out in pain. I feel so exposed in the light. The comfort of the darkness is gone. Instead I feel myself slowing breaking apart from the inside out.

Then the pain leaves. As suddenly as it began, the pain leaves me, but the light does not fade. In anything, the light brightens. I hear a voice calling out from the light, comforting me. It drives away all of my fears. It drives away those who were haunting me.

A great host of angels appeared before me, singing praises to a God I had never known. Without knowing why I joined with them, and sang with all I had. Tears flowed like rivers down my cheeks and I awoke with a start. Feeling a strange sense of peace I sit up and stare in surprise. Angels fill my room, shining brightly, smiling down at me. I blink in disbelief and the angels disappear, but the inner peace from the angels lingers on.

Picking up paper and a pen from my bedside table I start writing. Thank you God, I pray. This is the most beautiful vision I have seen.

Matthew Reilly

Whoops, it's been a couple weeks since I posted. I'm such a bad blogger. But please excuse me, I have been wrapped up in some of the most fast paced action books I have ever read. Matthew Reilly is an Australian author, and I have fallen in love with his books. The first book I read of his was called Scarecrow. I saw it at Kmart and after reading the blurb I knew I could not put it back. Would you?

IT IS THE GREATEST BOUNTY HUNT IN HISTORY

There are 15 targets.
And they must all be dead by 12 noon, today.
The price on their head: $20 million each.

ONE HERO

Among the names on the target list, one stands out.
An enigmatic Marine named Shane Schofield,
call-sign: SCARECROW.

NO LIMITS

And so Schofield is hunted by gangs of international bounty hunters,
including the 'Black Knight', a ruthless hunter who seems intent on
eliminating only him.
He led his men into hell in Ice Station.
He protected the President against all odd in Area 7.
This time it's different.
Because this time SCARECROW is the target.

And the book was amazing. In 500 pages only 24 hours passed, and they were so very full of action. Now I realise this is the 3rd book in the Shane Schofield series, and I have gone back to read the others.

Matthew Reilly has also written about an Australian hero in his Jack West Jr series. I have completed this series just this afternoon, and am in awe. It reminds me of Indiana Jones, but on a much larger scale. In fact, when asked about this in an interview, this is a similarity he notes. The series follows our hero and his team to each of the seven ancient wonders in a race to prevent the end of the world.

If you enjoyed the Bourne series, you will definitely enjoy these books. If you want to borrow any of the books, let me know. You know you want to. And soon you'll be begging me for more.

Blackholes

I have recognised recently a few time blackholes in my life: TV and Facebook. When I turn on the TV somehow an hour can pass in the blink of an eye, generally coupled with the use of Facebook. My mind feels numb afterwards. In fact, while writing this post I have been distracted by the TV and 'blacked out' for 5 minutes. I waste a lot of time looking at a screen, and know I could use this time more productively.

I very much enjoy reading (as you are most definitely aware!) and have started turning the TV off after dinner so I can read without being distracted. In doing so I have been able to read 2 books in the last 2 days, along with baking, cleaning, washing, going out to lunch and assisting with DIY projects around the house. I magically have way more time.

So I challenge you to turn off the TV and pick up a book. Try and lose yourself in a different place or learn something new. If need be, put on some quiet music in the background (classical and movie soundtracks are good for this because they don't have lyrics to distract you). My favourite station is SkyFM Simply Soundtracks by Internode.

The Promise

It took a long time to climb the mountain. But we did it. The view from the top was amazing, and made the fatigue my limbs felt from the climb up disappear. Beside me, my father stood, invisible to all but me. He was the only one who knew I was here on the mountaintop. As I stared at the horizon a light mist began to fall from the sky, but I stayed dry. Here I was, above the treetops, above the mist, and I felt so peaceful. The scene before me was so calm and tranquil. A tear escaped my eye as I thought of the day I decided to climb the mountain. I was just nine years old.

“Daddy, one day will you take me up Mount Summer?” I asked, pointing to the mountain, the highest point hidden by clouds.

“Sure. The day you’re old enough to climb Mount Summer I’ll be there by your side,” he said. “I promise.”

I had been so young. He died two years later in a mountain climbing expedition.

This put me off climbing for so long, but the dream of scaling Mount Summer was always in the back of my mind. I knew that I wouldn’t feel I’d accomplished anything until I reached the top.

I was twelve when I started climbing again. When I was on my own I found myself talking to my father. As time went by, I began doing it more and more often, and I began to think he was really there. Mum thought I was still suffering from grief, but I knew this was just my way of coping.

I trained specifically for my climb up Mount Summer for a year. I started my training the week after I turned fourteen as my father had said I would be ready to climb the mountain at fifteen. Just after I began training I set the date for my climb. It was to be the 9^th of September – my father’s birthday.

I got up early, about five o’clock, as I normally did for my training, while everyone was still asleep. I dressed appropriately and had breakfast as quick as I could. I had packed a bag the previous night with provisions and safety gear for climbing last night, and I shouldered it before walking out the house.

I caught a bus as far across town as I could get, and then walked the final k to the base of Mount Summer. I knew I was disobeying the first rule when it came to climbing, but I had to do this alone. I didn’t even want to tell anyone that I was going.

The climb was the hardest I had ever attempted, and at half way up I was beginning to question my readiness. But after I had rested for a while, I felt ready to go again. The time where I passed through the cloud was probably the worst I had experienced. In the climbing team I was in we had been told about what it was like to climb through the cloud, and had even had a quick simulation-like thing. But that didn’t really prepare me for what it was really like. It was like walking through thick wet fog, except I was climbing, and the low visibility wasn’t very good. I panicked once as I slipped and almost fell, but my father caught me. I felt as though I wanted to give up, but I endured. I had to.

A little further ahead of me was my father. He was a lot more experienced than me, so he was faster, but he waited for me so we could step out onto the peak together.

I turned to my father, a wide smile on his face. “We did it,” I said. “We climbed to the top of Mount Summer.”

“We certainly did. I’m very proud of you,” he replied.

“You kept your promise,” I added. “The one you made to me when I was nine.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, ever. You’re my daughter, and I love you,” he replied.

“I love you too, dad.”

As he hugged me I felt his presence disappear, and he vanished from view. Strangely, I didn’t feel alone. I could still feel him with me, even though I couldn’t see him anymore. As I looked at the beautiful surroundings, I felt a great sense of accomplishment.

I decided, with little hesitation, that I was never coming down from the mountain.

GIRL DIES IN CLIMBING ACCIDENT

On September 9^th local girl Jennifer Adams, 15, attempted to climb Mount Summer, but slipped and fell before she was even half way up. She hadn’t told anyone that she was going, and her mother was distressed when police rang her with the terrible news.

“Jennifer has always been into climbing. I’m devastated that she’s gone, but at least she left us doing something she loved,” her mother commented in between tears. “She’ll definitely be missed.”

Infidel, an autobiography

If you know me, you'll also know that I like to read. That is a slight understatement ... I LOVE to read!

Recently I have read an autobiography that was fascinating in a couple of ways. The book is Infidel, by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. (This is the Wikipedia page) As an autobiography, it is about her life; her childhood growing up as a Muslim girl in Kenya, Israel and Ethiopia, her escape and asylum in Holland, and the beginning and end of her political career. But always, throughout, her amazing strength, courage and questioning that has inspired so many women, but especially the oppressed Muslim women.

I have learned from this book (and the sequel Nomad) about the Muslim faith and practices. Women are given so few rights, and are looked upon as lesser people. As Ayaan was born in the 60's I am not 100% about the facts for now, but I would assume there are still villages and even cities that would not let a woman walk the streets, let alone buy food or anything for their family without being accompanied by a man. Female circumcision is still being practiced, and not just in the developing countries. Even in communities in the West young girls are being mutilated for the sake of their religion and being "pure".

It made me think again about how lucky we are to live in Australia. Seeing what we take for granted everyday from the eyes of someone who has never had the simple freedom of walking down the street without being completely covered, to having the freedom to choose to study whatever they want at university to make a career of their own choosing. We are so blessed. Ayaan made her freedom and new life in Holland count. She studied politics and has become an advocate for the rights of asylum seekers and especially Muslim women.

Unfortunately because of the controversial nature of what she speaks out against, and the very profound moment where she denounced her Muslim faith (an act punishable by death) she travels and lives 24/7 with bodyguards. And yet she continues to speak up for those who cannot.

If you would like to read this book I purchased it from Book Depository (free postage) or when I get it back from someone I lent it too I will be more than happy to lend it to you too.

A long weekend

Well, what a weekend! It all started Wednesday night. From work Jesse, Andrew and I all drove up to Gretel's house in Renmark to begin our long weekend.

On Thursday we celebrated Australia Day. It was a fabulous day spent drinking, chatting, eating BBQ and spending time with friends - old and newly met on the day. Even though the temperature was in the mid-high 30's we thought it sacrilegious to go inside on Australia Day. More people had arrived by dinner time, and our head count was up to 10. After the sun went down we went for a walk to the river. It was still very warm.

Friday was spent relaxing. We did a little shopping in the morning after breakfast, then had lunch. The afternoon was mostly spent reading, watching movies and chatting. Our head count rose to 13, and for dinner we went to the Renmark Hotel. Dinner was OK, though the kitchen managed to mess up our orders and only half the meals came out at a time, with a 15 minute difference before the other half. Once everyone had finished eating we jumped in the cars and rushed out to the Paringa lookout where we caught the last 2 minutes of the sunset and watched the storm come in. It was an amazing sight.

On Saturday by the time everyone had gone through the shower and had breakfast it was about 10.30am. A few people went for a walk down at the river. I opted to stay home and read - it was still hot outside! While they were out I did the breakfast dishes and made lunch - burritos! After lunch we split up again. A group of people went to Lake Bonnie swimming and I went with Jesse, Gretel and Andrew ten-pin bowling. I won both games, but it was a very close competition. Our numbers diminished that night with a few people heading home. Movies, board and card games were played that night.

It rained last night, and it was cloudy and wet this morning. We churched in Paringa, we're almost becoming regulars with the amount of times we go there! A few of us left straight from church, and we were down to 5 for lunch. We were all on our way home by 2pm.

It was a great weekend. Oh, and happy birthday Collie.

Cyclists

I wrote this post before Christmas. It seemed like the right time to bring it up with the Tour Down Under...

I saw a cyclist get hit by a car this morning on my drive in to work. It was on one of the major arterial roads into the city, and traffic had slowed as per usual. A car went to turn left into a driveway and did not see the 4 cyclists approaching. One slammed into the turning vehicle, seeming bouncing off onto the pavement. He picked himself up and checked his bike for damage. Two other cyclists stayed with him as the vehicle parked, but by then the traffic was moving and I didn't see any more.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach thinking about the incident, imagining it could have been so much worse. Yet I didn't feel as sick as when I saw a dog get hit and killed by a car almost a year ago. The fact that the cyclist picked himself up almost immediately eased my worry. But it got me thinking about cyclists in the city.

It is a controversial topic between motorists and cyclists. We see the advertising campaigns on TV and hear them on the radio about sharing the road. Sometimes it is easy; others it is not. These are just a few thoughts I have had - keep in mind I am a motorist.

- There was mention of a 1m gap rule when passing a cyclist. I don't see this as practical. If you were to leave 1m you would be crossing in the next lane, or into oncoming traffic, which is far more dangerous. When it is all clear, not a problem, but not when it is busy.

- Cyclists should not be allowed on roads with very limited visibility - like Greenhill Road, Norton Summit Road and Gorge Road - it is far too dangerous, as cars get stuck behind them with no ability to overtake because of lack of room, or they risk dangerous overtakes.

- They should get rid of the rule where cyclists are allowed to ride 2 abreast - everywhere. If they take up less room on the road they are less likely to be hit or cause frustration and road rage.

- Cyclists should be required to register their bikes to ride on public roads. Registration should also include a booklet or handout which states road rules for cyclists. It should be mandatory they know the road rules.

I'll leave it here before I offend someone...but what do you think about the subject?