Sitting with a multitude of faiths

Its the summer solstice here today, and I often get a much more spiritual feeling about this occasion than about the christmas festival.
There's a connection to the rhythms of the earth and the skies, and feeling a part of that, however small.
Christmas is nice because it's time to pause and take an audit of everything that's good in life, and what we have to be grateful for, but I'm afraid that unlike my childhood, the story of the baby in Bethlehem leaves me cold.
I used to love reading Luke's gospel - the most poetic and fairytale-like version of events, and while I still enjoy indulging in the story, I've lost a connection to it.
It doesn't make sense - a child who's brought to life solely to die prematurely, a supposedly loving father who would allow his son to die in pain and torture to save our souls. The big guy's supposed to be god - why can't he just snap his fingers and do it? No matter how you explain his motives he doesn't come off well, and well, I don't think I'd like to be associated with such a cold deity.
And then you see the connections - the virgin birth myths in history (Egyptian, Greek and Buddhist lore for example), the sacrificed son myths in history (eg Viking and Judaic history) and and you see that the Christmas story is just another version of a very ancient myth. Who knows why we cling to these stories and patterns?
When it all comes down to it every faith, every religion is just us trying to give ourselves an explanation of our presence here on earth. No one knows who is right or who is wrong, so as long as we harm no one and promote the well being of ourselves and others maybe it's enough just to sit with the multitude of faiths and let them be.
However you interpret it, however you celebrate it, I hope this Christmas season brings you peace and contentment, love and warmth, and a feeling of being part of something greater than you alone.

Paris, Paris, comme je vous aime...

I'm about to experience Paris for the first time, in the next few months. My anticipation of the city is torn between what will be the reality, and the lifetime of media fed expectations that have so far constituted my vicarious experience of it. I love looking up articles on google about the ten best things to do in Paris. They range from the standard tourist haunts as must sees, to the quirky, personal things, like eating an eclair hot from a patisserie oven, and walking by the Seine at sunset.
So, have any of you been to Paris? Did you have something favourite you'd say was a must-see? Let me know. I'd like to compile my own top ten list of things to do - something to make it that bit more memorable.

Rollercoaster sugars and asthmatic aircon

Must be getting near Christmas.
The volume on the xbox is near stadium level indicating that there's more than one delinquent in the house, the aircon is crapping itself due to freakish hot weather and I witnessed a guy in a business suit try to convince a drunk bloke to get up from the footpath at 7.45am this morning, despite the drunk bloke seeming to be quite happy where he was in the middle of Grenfell St, thanks very much. The seemingly forced helping was awkward to watch as I sat at the traffic lights.
On other fronts the usually reasonably healthy eating patterns have given way to rollercoaster blood sugar levels resulting from eating too many sweets and leftovers, the urge to dress in anything resembling a businesslike way has gone for a burton and fairylights have taken on a major role in my enjoyment of everyday life.
Yep, must be getting near Christmas. Its noice!

it's Christmas, Carol!

It definitely must be Christmas - Just watched Blackadder's Christmas Carol!

The nearest to an arse-kicking he'll get

I got a letter today inviting me to attend the family conference of a youth who, as one of three, spent a night in October smashing windows of cars and houses up and down my street. As one of the victims - he put a rock through the plate glass window of our bedroom - I'm invited to say something to help make him realise the consequences of his actions.
The reality is that we were luckily out at the time. Where the rock landed was right in the middle of the bed and the spot that at least one of our dogs would usually be sleeping. Apart from the psychological effects of coming home to find your window smashed and wondering if someone was in the house, and whether the dogs were alright, and even after the terrific insurance company had sorted a glazier and the police had been, we had to start to clean a room in the early hours of the morning that had thousands of tiny slivers of glass strewn to the farthest corners.
It happened two months ago and we're still finding glass, still getting cut and scratched and we're out of pocket by $100 for the excess for the insurance company.
So I'll just go along and observe the process, take part and try to work out if it will do any good. I hope it will - its the nearest to an arse-kicking he's likely to get!

Day 1

Set up a blog, he said, after we watched the film Julie and Julia. you should do that, he said. And to be honest I quite liked the idea. and then blog stuff started to appear in front of me everytime I went online, and so here I am on a Sunday morning with heaps to do, but I'm choosing to ignore it, and all a sudden I'm on here and writing.
Why?
I write for a living, but I write other people's stuff. I'm out of the discipline of writing my own thoughts in prose form. Whether my own thoughts are even worthy of my writing them down, or worthy of you reading them will no doubt become evident as time goes on. At work I write articles, brochures, advertisements. I edit publications all to a set of key messages and formats.
What are my key messages? I don't know. Maybe that will become evident too.
I also write my own standup comedy stuff, which I love, but which is also terrifying. What if I think something's funny but no-one laughs? Will the world tear apart with a great rendering crack and swallow me up? Well yes, probably.
As for me and my world, well as an introduction I'm in my very late 40s, female, just married for the second time to a wonderful bloke, mum of a 15 year old apprentice delinquent male child and stepmum to a 23 year old young man and a 21 year old young man.
Up until last year I'd had my old dad live with me for 13 years since my mum died. It wasn't easy but we were blessed that he wasn't really infirm and still had all his faculties til the end. I never thought I'd say it but I do miss him.
I live in suburbia, drive a 10 year old car and have a brilliant job. For the first time in my life I don't seem to be struggling. Its a nice feeling.
As well as working I also do standup as mentioned, and I'm involved in the amateur theatre scene now and then in Adelaide as a performer and as a reviewer - check out my reviews on www.theatreguide.com.au.
Oh and I'm a Scot, living in Australia for the past 10 years, and for evermore - love it here.
Well, that's enough about me. What about you? :o)