Several years ago, about this time of year, I was staying in a one room flat near our office in North Sydney. The apartment was uncomfortably warm. (Since the temperature in Syndey is nearly always perfect, the room had only a small, portable heating / cooling unit, which was hard pressed to do anything against the unseasonably hot, humid air.  The flat's one small window had been painted shut, so it offered no relief.) It was late, but I was too uncomfortable to sleep.

 

Lounging on the bed, I flipped through the 4 (count 'em 4) available television stations, and found a rerun of an American Cop / Firefighter drama.  With apologies to all of my wonderful Australian friends, if you've ever visited Australia, you know that the local programming leaves something to be desired. Even reruns of mediocre American shows are a welcome distraction. 

 

About a half hour into the show, I heard someone pounding on doors throughout the apartment building. My first thought was that it had to be kids, but since I was on the 7th floor of a secure apartment building, and you couldn't move between floors without a key card specifically for each floor, it made bored kids less of an option. Still, I decided that someone who was randomly knocking wasn't looking for me, and I ignored the pounding when it came to, then passed, my own door.

 

A few minutes later, the pounding returned to my door with vengeance. "Open the door or I'll break it in!" someone shouted repeatedly from the other side of my door. Startled, I jumped up and looked out the window, only to discover six police cars on the narrow street beneath my window.  (There weren't any fire engines... another early thought, no doubt inspired by my choice of entertainment that evening.)

 

Well... I decided that if it was a bad guy, the cops couldn't be far behind.  Since they weren't going away, I threw on some sweats and went to the door. As soon as I unlocked it, the door was thrown open and ten of the best looking people I have ever seen (in real life or on TV) came storming into my apartment. The first few police officers through the door kept saying something about being "concerned about the welfare of my neighbor" and needing access to my balcony.  I didn't have a balcony (although, apparently, my neighbor did), and my small window wouldn't budge, even for these most determined, beautiful men.

 

I must have looked startled and disoriented, because the last person into the room was a female police officer. Again, model-beautiful, she looked at me sympathetically as the rest of the officers determined that my apartment couldn't help them gain access into my neighbor's.

 

Side note: You might wonder why the most memorable part of the evening was how good looking these officers were. In my defense, I need to point out that most Australians don't look like Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman, and the contrast between "my cops" and the ones on the television I had been watching was startling. Mine were SOOOO much better looking, there was just no comparison.

 

Anyway, about 5 minutes later, another officer stuck his head in my apartment to say they had gotten in to the other apartment some other way, and they all filed out of my flat. At this point, I was not only too hot, but far too keyed up to sleep. I watched through my small, closed window for the next hour or so, as an ambulance arrived and left with someone on a gurney.

 

I never did find out what had happened to my neighbor, how the police knew about it, or why it took 12 police officers to deal with the situation (although I suspect it might have been a slow night). I did, however, learn about a similar incident that had happened in Sydney a month earlier. The next day at the office, as I was telling the guys about my previous evening's excitement, one of them was nearly as startled as I had been. He told me: "Wow, it was a good thing you were alert enough to answer the door and do what they said. Last month the police accidentally broke into the wrong person's apartment in the middle of the night, and when the guy didn't respond correctly, they shot him!"

 

Whew...

 

 

A couple of weeks ago, I flew from Salt Lake City to Seattle. From the start, the trip seemed doomed to be an endless series of minor annoyances. The plane was delayed for a tire change, my reading light didn’t work, and there was so much static on my headset that it made watching in-flight entertainment painful. Annoyed and left with nothing to do but stare out the window, I watched as the sky grew dim.

 

When I first noticed the sky, all I could see were a series of pimples on the distant horizon. As we flew closer, it became obvious that I was looking at the mountain peaks that make up the Cascade Volcanic Range.  The individual peaks divided the horizon.  Beneath the mountains it was black, and they broke into a skyline that began as a deep burgundy that gradually turned to burnt orange, before lightening through shades of orange and yellow.  The yellow lightened and became a light blue that then darkened into the deep blue of night.  There were no clouds, and a single star, just above the horizon, accented the bright blue of the evening sky.

 

It was one of the most stunning views I've ever seen from an airplane, and one I would have missed if even one of my minor annoyances had not manifest itself on the flight.

 

It got me thinking… maybe the other "delays and inconveniences" in my life are actually the Lord lining things up so that I don't miss something amazing a further down the path. Maybe there are always a series of unexpected surprises on the horizon, and I only need to wait for them to unfold. Maybe, by keeping myself busy instead of taking more time to just look around, I miss out on what is already there.

 

The inconveniences of the night weren’t quite through.  When I went to get my rental car, the arrivals board showed my name, but told me to go to the counter instead of directly to a car.  I wondered why I wasn't pre-assigned a car (as I usually was).  The worker didn't know, but assigned me a FUN blue Ford Shelby Mustang as my rental for the trip! 

 

Once again, a minor inconvenience and slight delay turned into a great surprise (not quite on the same level as the sunset, but in business travel, I'll take what I can get…).

Port Douglas

After checking into my hotel in Port Douglas, I was thumbing through the Hotel Guest Book looking for things I might want to see, do, or eat in the area.  (It was late, I was unfamiliar with the area, and television stations in Australia are somewhat lacking, IMHO.)  On the page that dealt with what to do in case of fire or other emergencies, there was something new: "What to do in case of a Box Jelly sting."

A box jelly and the results of its sting. This isn't me, by the way. It is from the site linked to below: 'Box jellyfish are probably the most toxic creatures on Earth'

The next morning, I took a long walk on the beautiful beaches and spent most of my time contemplating how unlikely I was to EVER want to swim in those particular waters.

4 Mile Beach, Port Douglas, Australia

Guinness World Records lists the cassowary as the world's most dangerous bird.  Cassowaries, deftly using their surroundings to conceal their movements, have been known to out-flank organized groups of human predators. Cassowaries are considered to be one of the most dangerous animals to keep in zoos, based on the frequency and severity of injuries incurred by zookeepers.  - Wikipedia

I also saw several stunning Ulysses butterflies, with bright electric blue wings spanning 5.5” across.

I didn't dive on that trip, but everyone agreed that the people snorkeling saw more interesting sea life than the divers.

I spent most of the day with an older man from the U.S. who was an experienced diver, but who had recently had heart surgery and didn't bring a doctor's note saying it was ok for him to dive. While his wife was enjoying the deeper dive, he hovered near the surface with me, pointing out many unique fish, rays, giant clams, and other sights I might have missed otherwise. I don't think I'll ever forget the sound of parrot fish nibbling on the reef.

 

Several years ago, during a business trip to Sydney, I decided to take a long weekend and fly north to visit the rainforests and the Great Barrier Reef.

 

I laughed in a mixture of delight and horror at the thought. As fun as their spontaneous journey and carefree lifestyle sounded, and as much as I would love to have a "bloke of my own" along on my adventures, I can't imagine throwing my lot in with some man after a couple of hours of conversation in a bar.
First of all, I don't drink. Even if I did, I'm pretty sure it would take more than a few drinks to convince me to throw everything away and tie my life to a man I had just met in a bar.

 

Looking back, I still don't think a nomadic lifestyle would suit my personality. While I enjoy this approach to life for a weekend, beyond that I'm more comfortable having some kind of plan in mind.

 

How about you? Could you live a nomadic lifestyle? Where would you start? What would you do?

I spent a weekend in Portland a couple of weeks ago.   I needed to be there for meetings on Monday and Tuesday, so I decided to fly up early to enjoy the scenery. I love the Northwest! All the amazing shades of green, the water, the trees, the mountains, the people, the food… I love it all!

 

 

On Saturday, I took a drive up the Columbia River Gorge. There are dozens of waterfalls within easy access of the road, so I spent the day enjoying beautiful waterfall hikes. There is something about being out with nature that sparks amazing insights about life and relationships in my mind, and it's hard to imagine a more pleasant way to spend the day.

 

            

 

On one long waterfall hike, I explored a fork in the trail leading slightly off the beaten path.  The path became steeper and rockier as I went, narrowing until it disappeared and forcing me to backtrack. It got me thinking about times in my life when I found myself pursuing dead ends in my career or in a relationship that consumed my time and energy without going anywhere.  I’m not always quick to recognize when I'm on a path leading to nowhere, and I've wasted a lot of time trying to make these dead end work.  What a waste…  Not the minor detour on the hike, but the dead ends in my life. I will do better!

 

      

 

At one point on this same hike, I got a "little bit lost." (Being a "a little bit lost" isn't like being "a little bit pregnant" even though they sound similar. ) This was an easily reversible situation.  I was on a well-defined path and could have gone back the way I came.  It would have been less interesting, and might take more time, but I definitely had a way out.  The problem was that there had been several unmarked forks in the trail. While I was pretty sure I wasn't on a dead end, I didn't know if I was still on the trail that would eventually loop back to where my car was parked. So, I was a "little bit lost" but still willing to pursue the adventure.

 

As I went, I got to thinking about the role that others can play in helping me find my way not just on an unmarked mountain trail, but through life. There were a few other people hiking this trail. Some people were going the same direction I was, but at different speeds. Since I had started out on the trail without really knowing where it led, they shared what they knew of the path that lay ahead -- a two mile hike that led to a waterfall before looping back to a lower waterfall and the parking lot. Some people were coming from the other direction. We encouraged each other to keep going, as we traded knowledge of where we had been, what was coming next, and how much longer the trail might be. Once, when I found someone who had actually consulted a guide book before starting on the trail, it reminded me of the scriptures - a guide book summarizing experiences of others who have traveled life’s paths before.

 

On Sunday, after attending church with a local ward, I headed north to Mount St. Helens. What an experience! When I think about forces shaping the earth (creating mountains, valleys, and lakes), I always think about the changes happening slowly - a fraction of a centimeter at a time over centuries. While the build up may have taken that long, the landside, stone storm and initial eruption of Mount St. Helens lasted just 3 minutes, forever changing the landscape of the surrounding 250+ miles. Amazing! 

 

 

 

I think big changes in our lives might be kind of like that. They seem slow, nearly invisible or impossible, because the forces for change may build up silently within us for years. But when the change happens, it is like something snaps and it happens all at once.  You hear weight loss success stories like that all the time. After a lifetime of struggles, something happens, triggered by a seemingly insignificant photo or a family outing, or perhaps a much more significant doctor's visit or death of a loved one. In either case, suddenly the pressure within is greater than the pressure without, and the change happens--not in 3 minutes, but in a relatively short period of time.  This is something to think more about…

 

Both evenings, after returning from my adventures, I joined friends for wonderful meals: first at an all-organic 5-star restaurant and the next day at a friend's home where the food was even better.

 

All in all, it was a great weekend. The only thing that could have made it better would have been having someone to share it with. I've spent enough time traveling around the world to be comfortable travelling alone and spending time with myself, but I look forward to having someone to share the adventure.