it fell on a monday nite. sam was already sick on the sunday of his profession. the bug probably got into me by then. monday nite was mild and warm. perfect for a swim. uni pool brewing at 27 degrees and i dipped into it. 30 laps. dried-clean and emerged out, against the evening. just berms, singlet and a thin pullover. cycled home for tofu and salmon.
nothing but
arrrcheewww the morning after. nosey-waterfalls, giddy spells and the alien sense of heaviness, body speaking the language of sickness right to the marrows of bones. i switched to self-imposed quarantine. tried to hitch for one lesson but the autumn wind sent more
arrrcheewwws bellowing from one despondent nose. even my bicycle shook from the unsteady gait brought forth from that legendary
arrrcheewww. the body and its tenor of resistance. i too must obey.
to see a doctor here would be crazy. unnecessary referrals and always, the long queues. i have a stockpile of medicines with me. decolgen, clarinase, night and day. once, twice double-shots and plenty of forced rest. i only wrote 3 paras or 2 for that gross piece of essay i'm working on. still, they were good paragraphs. the mind has a way of distilling its best thoughts even though the rest of the body moves into shut-down mode. something has to get moving- tapping other sources of energy to keep the Self breathing.
i cooked the healthiest meal as yet. thanks to the internet's 'how to counter the flu with natural food' websites. i made the best of what i had in the kitchen. like a scene of yoda from tatootine.
soon had my brown-rice porridge with dollops of coriander, mint, ginger, sweet potatoes, tumeric and almonds all in one. a side dish of salted cucumber, olive vegetables and anchovies as accompaniments. reminiscent of alexander hospital in the early 80s when i was warded for severe asthma, as a kid. a broth choked full of memories. the comfort-food which the chinese sage spoke about while prescribing traditional remedies to peasants from afar.
here i was, peasant of a different breed. locked into the tight premises of a studio-apartment. away from a tropical homeland. body learns to adapt, to the cold draught that makes people sick. ying-yang body topsy-turvey. as i unlearn the lore of that healing memory.
john 13: 1-15
there are brows of excitement everywhere; the leaf-strewn pavements lining the cool box of bluewater pools lodged beside the training track. you can swim or run in mild autumn air.
easy too, to discard your studies for a moment and find again, the residues of trees that resemble the ones you love to gaze from home. casurina and birch, angsana tints and maple-hues patching sunsprays on earthgrounds. syrup-brown reds hiding the drench of greencool rain. a scent of the coming afternoon.
this is my secret cache of raw energy meals. varied stockpiles for moody autumn days when it gets too cold to eat out on your own. money-savers ready to celebrate another day of flavours-
a lull and the dream... what yesterday left in its wake.
weekend. these yummies could last till sunday. they came free; smoked salmon bagels, curry rice with chicken and cashew nuts and ricotta with tomato pesto, basil and fetta. goodness gracious me. honestly, i was already thinking of drawing her a card & giving her some fresh flowers before i leave. her goodwill is amazing, not forgetting the generous discounts she gives for the mocha cuppa i order from her on most mornings. you meet these kind souls on the road of life.
soon had my brown-rice porridge with dollops of coriander, mint, ginger, sweet potatoes, tumeric and almonds all in one. a side dish of salted cucumber, olive vegetables and anchovies as accompaniments. reminiscent of alexander hospital in the early 80s when i was warded for severe asthma, as a kid. a broth choked full of memories. the comfort-food which the chinese sage spoke about while prescribing traditional remedies to peasants from afar.
she seems a nice lady. germanic intelligence all merged in one. her suits are all smart cuts and neat tucks. philo-trained consultant in educational leadership. scores of papers published in worldwide journals. recommends her own 'biblical' text, perhaps the only one she wrote for constant referencing. 'read this and you'd be fine', says she. nah. i know the tricks of these academics. cite and critique their works and some glow like crazy. intellectual puffery. let's take the less trodden way. i have my own sources for confirmation. re-vision and re-imagine. i dig from corners unseen. those creative energies are excavating...and these lines will march in unison. O Lord, bless my work that it may make good difference to bodies of knowledge long-exhausted.
we find joy on a journey. sensing faith, flowering into fidelity. that hard-won road, down a monk's humble quiet ways; sharing Christ's solitude and silence as your lifelong listening to the Word commits you to the backwaters of a changing world. led from nowwhere and finding your love for place on the plains. here at tarrawarra.
THANKS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSO MUCH for the multitude of questionaires that are pouring in even as i am typing this! am overwhelmed by your generous support and rally call for my SOS! 
you are making heaps of difference to my project and trust me, your views and suggestions will take me to lala land and more importantly add value to our collective goodwill for the college all of us grew up with/ in.
