“Find out one thing about your partner that no one else knows and share it with the group.”
There were lots of ooh-aahs as people shed light on their little-known achievements and talents at our recent choir retreat, even though some of us have been singing together for three or more years. “I didn’t know that about you!” If we asked that question more often, we’d learn so much more about each other beyond just our jobs or interest groups.
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“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our Big Fat Greek Easter Show,” Nick announced with a flourish. “We've got an exciting performance for you this afternoon and we hope you enjoy it.”
Aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins cheered in rowdy applause as the curtains parted, while Jen and I were discreetly positioned behind the handcrafted stage. We’d spent weeks rehearsing for our live puppet show which featured an elaborate and colourful array of props and musical performances. I was a shy, introverted child and throughout my teens I drifted on the edge of social circles.
Surprisingly, for someone who’s more comfortable as a wallflower at parties and networking events, I’ve always ended up in jobs that required public speaking. Perhaps I’m just a closet performer at heart. “What - more sweets?” I groan at the sight of the three white boxes in the middle of the desk.
“Who’s name day is it today?” “Ours,” respond the three Marias at our Athens-based office. Custom dictates they bring a box each. I just can’t keep up and neither can my waistline. Really, some months feature an endless procession of name day celebrations and obligatory eating of syrup sweets. “How about an evening frolic down on the beach?”
“Err, no thanks,” I replied. “If you’re worried about leaving your friend on her own,” he said with all sincerity, “she's welcome to join us.” While initial amorous advances are flattering, continuous entreaties for a late-night rendezvous are irritating, especially when the enamored young man follows you home. It’s considered stalking in some cultures. _ I'm always travelin’, I love bein’ free...
You may recognise these words from Peter Allen’s iconic tune ‘I Still Call Australia Home’. It’s a fitting song for a nomad who’s spent most of my life on walkabout, spurred on by a passion for travel and new experiences. It captures that special essence of ‘home’ - I always feel a lump in my throat whenever I hear it as I fly back to Australia. “Who’s your guru?”
“I don’t have one.” The young truckie gasped audibly. “What Teachings do you follow, then?” “None in particular,” I responded, “I’m open-minded to all ideas and beliefs.” _ For the record, I have no plans for 2012.
I’m making this public as it’s the first thing people ask now that we’re at the start of a new year. So what’s in store for me in 2012? I have no idea. |
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December 2019
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I acknowledge the traditional Custodians of the land on which I work and live, the Gubbi Gubbi / Kabi Kabi and Joondoburri people, and recognise their continuing connection to land, the waters and sky. I pay my respect to them and their cultures; and to Elders past, present and emerging.
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