"So this is the New Year..."

"...and I don't feel any different."

That's the first line of the song "New Year" by Death Cab For Cutie. And I felt that both, re-initiating the blog and the song lyric were appropriate for today. As even the most casual observer will note, I haven't posted anything outside of my Jaiku feeds since I left Australia back in September. I decided that the turning of the year was an appropriate time to begin again and issue some updates.

Part of the reason that I've held off so long is because I wanted to have my future (more or less) settled before I said anything, especially here in the blogosphere. No, for those of you with whom I have more regular contact, none of this will be particularly surprising.

I have been missioned by the Society back to the Australian province to help in trying to get a Jesuit school started in New Zealand. That's the long-term goal. But it's going to take some work and some ramping up. Which means that I will be going back to Australia to work in one of their existing schools (St. Aloysius, in Sydney) to get the feel of English descended, Antipodal secondary education. And, in my opinion, to understudy under a Jesuit there who started a school in Sydney and learn from him, first-hand, how he (and the Society in Australia) do mission and identity work. And also, let's be frank here, so that the Australian Jesuits can get to know me and I can get to know them. All of which is incredibly reasonable. So. That, for some of you may be the Big News. (By the way, the photo under the masthead is the view from the old Jesuit residence where I will be living and working. Don't feel too bad for me, I'll take this one for the team...)

It's been challenging trying to get all the coordination done, get provincials to talk on the same sheet of music, etc. etc. But it's finally come together. So for the next six years, I'll be down south. Waaaay down south.

Now, the Society has missioned me there, but I'd be lying if I didn't cop to the fact that I am wildly in love with both Australia and New Zealand. New Zealand more so, but Aussie is a wonderful place too, and both have been absolutely remarkable in what they've meant for my growth and where I've found life in the last few years. While we are in the 'Full Disclosure' mode, (or at least as full a disclosure as you are likely to get out of me on the web,) part of my asking for this assignment revolves around how increasingly challenging I've found it to live in the US the last few years. Especially since the war and returning from Active Duty in the Army. Sheesh, you want to talk about complicated. I'm not even going to try, in this space, to explain how it feels and why I need to get out. You just wouldn't understand. Some days, I don't understand. But, if you catch me in person, maybe I can try to fill you in.

So, since returning to Seattle from Australia, I've been working a little development, trying to re-organize my junk (and, while I may not have a lot of stuff by some standards, YOU try getting ready to move half a world a way and see what you think is indispensable and what goes into the circular file,) getting out of the Army, helping out at a parish here and there, running the Seattle Half Marathon, and working on.... a book. Which is about 1/2-2/3 of the way completed by my count. The working title is the same as this blog. I chose that title because so much has gone on for me under night time skies that are so alien to the ones I grew up under. Terror and blood. Healing and grace. Beauty and chaos. And trying to find the words to communicate all of that is both good and challenging and cathartic all at the same time. And as a writer, I know how frustratingly limiting words can be some times. It's strange because, as sloppy as I am about some things (anyone who has seen my room can attest to this,) when it comes to language, I am like some bizarre craftsman, carefully lathing each verb so that it is precisely the perfect fit into the sentences I've constructed. Writing is, in my world, definitely a craft, and what some are able to do with wood; shaping, carving, sanding, finishing, polishing to a high sheen, I choose to do with language. Will this book ever be finished? Will it ever be published? I don't know. But if these things do begin to coalesce, watch this space for an update. I owe you that much if you are reading this now.

I will not vow that I will be more regular, or effusive in these posts. Only that I want to keep people informed and this is an easy way to do it. At least, it's easier than writing: A) 20-40 individual emails or B) 1 email and shotgun blasting it out. But at least I'm back. I hope you'll come along for the ride...

So Long. Farewell. Auf Wedersein. Goodbye.

It's early, and, God bless the kookabura outside. He got up at 4:30 to say good bye to me. I'm leaving Australia this morning, for a while at least. Provided that the PotUS and his security detail, and their 'fans' (and by fans, here I mean crazy people hell-bent on disrupting life for earth people by rioting at the APEC conference) don't decide that this morning would be happy fun time to have an airport clogging riot.

Australia. Thank you. It has been a great year. You have, for the most part, wonderful citizens and inhabitants. You are blessed with beauty beyond what I had imagined. Far beyond. I will return. Soon, Inshallah. Soon.

So there you go. It's early. I may post a couple more pics from this last New Zealand trip, because I got some good ones.

Now. I go to enter my time machine. You see, I arrive in the states before I leave Australia...

Uh, yeah...

It was a Very Beautiful Day.

Wellington on a GORGEOUS day

Wellington is spectacular today. Wow. Just wow.

More Wellington

The Breaking of the Fellowship

This weekend, Tertianship officially ends.

Most of us are kicking around for a week or two before heading back to our points of origin, but it's really all over but the crying.

And I might, a little. This has been one of the best years of my life, period. So as you might imagine I'm not anxious to see it end.

We have had a remarkable group of men. We have had incredible experiences, both together and separately. We have lived and made a community and, as they say here, 'a fair go' of it.

And now it's over. One is going back to editing a magazine in Italy. Another is becoming part of the faculty of the theology school in Frankfurt. A school chaplain in Berlin. A pastor in Winnipeg. The JSTB gets its liturgy professor back. A Swiss retreat house will see its director again soon. A new high school principle for Northern Poland and a returning vocations director for Southern Poland. A Korean missionary in Cambodia. One is returning to the classroom for his Masters in Fine Arts. The CPE Supervisor is returning to training people. And one is becoming president of a theology center.

But I think we'll carry each other for quite a while. We've really impacted one another. That is for certain. And I'm pretty sad that it's ending. It is the nature of the both my life and this year though, that the good things don't last long. So I have tried to drink deeply while the tap has been on.

My own adventures will continue on here. Despite the breaking of the Fellowship.

"Well, here at last, dear friends, on the shores of the Sea comes the end
of our fellowship in Middle-earth. Go in peace!
I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil."

Say What You Want...

...but you can't say I didn't see Sydney.

You can't say this because I ran in the City2Surf run in Sydney yesterday. It's a 14k run with 65,000 participants. It is HUGE and madness, but it is madness that is exceptionally well organized and run. Registration was a breeze, and all you really had to do was show up at the start with your pre-mailed number pinned to your chest.

The atmosphere was very Circus Maximus. As I waited at the start with all of my friends, I was astounded by the wide variety of people who showed up for the event. There was a guy next to me with his five kids who was leading them on the run/walk. There was an early twenty-something couple who were waaaay into PDAs (Public Displays of Affection, for those of who have never taught high school) for the rest of us to be comfortable with. A group of people in grass skirts and leis running. I saw Hugh Hefner with a group of bunnies lined up at the start (I'm not sure about the wisdom of running in silk smoking jacket, though, seems like it might be hard on the silk.) Teams and single runners, everyone was there. I was lined up in front of the Australian Museum probably 500m from the starting line. The race started with a gun for 'preferred racers' at 9am, then the people who have run the race before with certain times at 910am, then us unwashed masses at 920am and finally, the Soul/Back of the Pack entertainment runners.

The weather was simply gorgeous, if a little warm for the race itself, very spring like, but a little too warm for running even at 9am.

If you look at this map, you will see the route of the race, the following section references the map a couple times.

Some things guaranteed to make a better race:

1) There were live bands all along the route. From jazz quartets to a bagpiper, there were all there. The highlight here was at about the 4km mark near Manning Street on that map. As I came down a long hill into town, I could hear heavy metal music blasting. Which was unusual because I was wearing my iPod and playing that pretty loud to cover up the sound of stomping feet generated by hordes of my compatriots. Coming into the town lined with shops, on the right hand side of the street was a large, old, Victorian style pub with a huge marquee. Atop the marquee was a Guns-N-Roses cover band, complete with bad wigs, BLASTING G-n-R classics. It was too good. I threw them 'The Horns" as I ran by.

2) The things you won't see anywhere else... Moving about 2 kms down the road to Rose Bay, where I boarded the yacht Love and War a few months back, I spied a group of protesters on the side of the road holding a banner that read 'No Mega-Marina.' I don't know what a mega-marina is or if I should be opposed to it, but they had a lot of banners. Which was when I noticed that that one of the banners was moving. Approaching the moving banner from behind, I could read it through the sunlight, it read "I'm not Borat." Which confused me because I wondered what Borat had to do with Mega Marinas. Following the moving banner, down, I noticed that it ended at it's base in a naked, running man. Who looked just like Borat, I guess. Well, he wasn't *quite* naked. He was wearing the appropriate footwear. And he actually had a...thongish thing on. I guess. I suppose you need to wear something to pin your race number on, don't you? Knowing, at some primal, instinctive level, that looking at him could lead to nothing good, I resisted the urge, which I observed in most of my fellow runners, to turn and look back as you past him (after all, running while carrying a banner like that is no joke.) And take it from me, he's not Borat.

3) Finishing on Bondi Beach. Every race in the world should end on Bondi Beach. It's just better that way. Logistically challenging, but better.

4) Hills named 'Heartbreak.' Seems like every big race has this hill on it somewhere and the City2Surf is no exception. It didn't seem that bad to me, but judging from the number of people who were pulling off to the side of the road to abandon hope, I may be wrong. These hills test you in the midst of a test you are putting yourself through. There are to be commended for their contribution...

All in all, it was a good day and a fun run. My time was horrible due to two factors:

1) My training in the three weeks leading up to the race was pretty much non-existent. A sure fire recipe for distress, if not catastrophe, but I had signed up and knew I could finish, so I did.

2) There were 65,000 other people I had to dodge for 14K. The other 64,999 only had to dodge ONE person. Me.

So there you go, in some ways a great way to say 'good-bye' to the city of Sydney until next time.