Best Quote Ever

For many years now, I have kept a quote book. I don't actively seek out quotes, but when I stumble upon one - in a newspaper article, in a book I'm reading, in a magazine or on the net - I make a note of if in my book. Then when I am feeling vulnerable, or low, or in need of guidance, or a boost of confidence, I browse through my book. And inevitably, something speaks to me. Whether it is some wise words about parenting, or some insights about relationships, or a fabulous quote about anxiety, I can always find exactly what I need to get me through that particular moment in my life.

At least, until the next crisis.

This has been a tough year. My husband and I separated, I moved houses, I tried very hard to push forward in my career. It's been a time of great change, some enormous challenges, and some great triumphs. Good and bad. Ups and downs. Happys and Sads. And enormous uncertainty.

I hate uncertainty. It is very difficult for someone like me. I like to know exactly what is ahead. What will my life look like in six months? A year? What about in five years? Ten years? When I'm a hundred?

And so this is the quote that is getting me through at the moment. It's from the Tao de Ching, and though I am far from being a Taoist (or even remotely spiritual in any way) these words resonate deeply with me.

I hope they resonate with you, too.

Don't seek and don't expect.
Be patient and wait until your mud settles and your water is clear.
Be patient and wait.
Your mud will settle.
Your water will be clear.

What's your favourite quote at the moment?

Rapture Fail

So Saturday was supposed to be the Rapture. Hundreds of millions of believers were meant to ascend to heaven, naked and flapping their arms*. I didn't believe for a minute that the Rapture would take place, just like I never for a moment believed that the Y2K Bug would wipe out the world as we knew it**. Still, it did give me pause for thought.

How would you react if the Rapture actually happened? I mean, imagine walking outside and seeing dozens of your neighbours floating skywards in the nude.*** How would you feel? What would you do?

So far the only reactions I've experienced to truly fantastical events are on TV or in the movies, and, quite frankly, I don't buy them for a second. Whenever something mind-blowingly bizarre happens - a spaceship lands, a boy discovers he's a wizard, an alien turns up in a picnic basket - the heroes express disbelief for about 30 seconds, then accept the situation and move on. It's preposterous.

"Wow, an alien!" the lead character will cry, then shake his head with wonder, then help him back to his spaceship without a second thought. Or "We're flying!" a first-time witch will exclaim, then start to practice her technique as if she's just discovered a fabulous new cleasing bar with which to wash her face.

Yup. I don't think so. If I discovered an alien in my closet, I would close my eyes and block my ears and rock silently in a corner, convinced I was becoming psychotic and that I would spend the rest of my days in a locked room wrapped in a white dressing gown with very long arms. My brain is not geared to handle bizarre sights. I'm still freaked out by the TV show I saw about conjoined twins, and that was five years ago. An alien would utterly destroy my mind.

As for flying, well, as I would love to fly, actually put me up there in the sky and I would scream and vomit and quite probably faint with fear, which would not be at all good for aerodynamics. I get nervous on aeroplanes and they are real machines, with safety features and everything. There's no way you're getting me to trust just my wimpy little arms.

Now if the Rapture was to happen in the movies, it would go something like this:

People start floating skywards, never to be seen again. Our hero looks amazed for a count of three, after which he goes in search of his estranged wife, who he's suddenly decided he still loves. He finds her (not ascended, clearly they were both very naughty) after dodging some nasty natural disasters. They kiss passionately, and live happily ever after.

If the Rapture was to happen in my world, it would go something like this:

People start floating skywards, never to be seen again. Kerri looks out the window, screams, falls to the floor, and starts clutching her head crying 'It's a dream! It's a dream!' The Architect runs in the room and commands 'Help me find the rabbit!'**** He pulls Kerri to her feet. She runs around in circles howling wildly, before banging into a door and falling unconscious to the floor. The Architect revives her, she screams and faints, he revives her again, she faints again, and so on, until eventually he just leaves her on the floor and starts a new life with the rabbit.

Or something like that.

So what about you? How would you react to the Rapture? Do you think it would be like in the movies? Would you be freaked out by superpowers? Most importantly, do you want to fly???

*Okay, so I may have made up the flapping bit.
**(though I did, ahem, stock up on extra water just to be safe....)
***Or floating skywards yourself, though that seems a remote possibility for me...
****There's no WAY he'd ascend, the evil little bunny

Simontology

After my evening in synagogue the other day, I began to contemplate the nature of religion. And I realised that each religion on offer today, despite having various major attractions - celebrations that involve trees and presents (Christianity), celebrations that involve fantastic amounts of food (Judaism), pilgrimages to interesting places (Islam), total oneness with the universe (Buddhism) and the potential for Hollywood superstardom (Scientology) - none of them offers the complete package.

Clearly, if I want to open myself to the perfect spiritual experience, I'm going to have to design it myself. So to this end I have come up with the Ultimate Religion, and I invite you all to follow.

So please find below the Ten Great Covenants of Simontology. Read. And Obey.

1. Simontologists worship Simon Baker as a god. We know he isn't god, and we don't expect him to have any actual powers, and for this reason we don't bother praying to him - we just fantasize about him a lot and hope to meet him one day. For those who don't wish to worship Simon Baker (or who are more inclined to worship female members of the species), then George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Scarlett Johansson, Justin Bieber or Natalie Portman are acceptable alternatives. Except Justin Bieber. I was just joking about him.
2. Simontologists drink the ritual Gin And Tonic at the Holy Hour of 5pm every night. This Gin And Tonic may be substituted with Wine or other Alcoholic Beverages with the special dispensation of the local Spirit(ual) Advisor (i.e. Bottle Shop).
3. Simontologists celebrate good news with spoonfuls of Nutella, which explains the alternate name of the Simontology faithful: Nutellites. 
4. Simontologists are kind to each other, unless 'each other' has done something really mean, in which case feel free to give them hell. 
5. Simontologists are kind to animals, except for rabbits, which are just annoying, and very bad value as pets. 
6. Simontologists read lots of books, but never, ever lend them out to other people. They rave about the books and encourage their friends to buy them, but give them only a tantalising glimpse of the front cover before snatching the book away. This is because they know that if they lend the book out, then the author will not make her teeny tiny commission of $1.20 per book, and Simontologists want authors to be paid for their hard labour. 
7. Simontologists do not do too much exercise because this makes other Simontologists feel bad about how unfit they are. 
8. Simontologists engage in frequent Meditation sessions, during which they Zen Out in front of episodes of the Mentalist, episodes of Mad Men, episodes of Weeds, episodes of Top Gear, or in fact episodes of anything they like, provided it does not feature Justin Bieber. 
9. Simontologists do not kill, unless absolutely necessary (for example, in a tussle over an extra large jar of Nutella).
10. Simontologists do not need a Tenth Covenant. We make our own rules..

So will you join me? Any other rules you wish to add?

Christmas.... From The Outside

So, as many of you know, I am experiencing Christmas from the outside. As opposed to most of you, who are experiencing Christmas from the inside. NOT that I'm implying that you're in jail, which is a different 'inside' to the one I'm referring to (er... not that there's anything wrong with being in jail (er... actually, there is)).

No, I'm talking about being Jewish at Christmas time, which is an interesting experience, given that most people in Australia are not.

Being Jewish at Christmas time is like waving everyone off to a huge annual party that you're not invited to. You've never been invited to this party, and really have no great interest in going, as you have your own annual party just a couple of weeks earlier*. Still, you do feel slightly wistful when you think about all the goodie bags everyone else is going to get, and wonder vaguely what a real Christmas turkey tastes like.

For those who don't know, Jews don't 'do' Christmas. Jews believe in the existence of Jesus, but do not recognise him as the son of God. So we do not celebrate Christmas, just as people outside the British colonies do not celebrate the Queen's birthday. It is just not relevant to us.

However, in this country, the irrelevance is irrelevant. Because here in Australia, Christmas is EVERYWHERE, and it does feel a little disenfranchising to be so obviously removed from the dominant culture (or, to use a slightly less technical term, it makes you feel kind of left out). This isn't such a big deal for me - I mean, most of my friends are Jewish and none of us celebrate Christmas - however it can be odd for the kids.

All three of my kids are bombarded with Christmas images in the media and in the shops. They are forever being asked what Santa is bringing them, and if they're excited about Christmas. My big kids are old enough to understand, and just smile politely, or say 'we don't celebrate Christmas'. Three year old Boo, on the other hand, has completely bought into the propaganda, asking frequently when Christmas is coming (er, soon) and if Santa is coming down the chimney (er, no). And she simply doesn't understand why we don't do Christmas when iCarly and the Simpsons and Spongebob Squarepants and Shrek and every other significant character in her life (okay, fictional character, but she doesn't quite differentiate at this stage) does.

Still, there are definite advantages to not celebrating Christmas. For a start, I don't have to buy presents for everyone I know, which I can only imagine is excruciatingly difficult and time-consuming and expensive, fraught with the potential for error and hurt feelings. Of course, I don't get presents either, but that's a pay off I can live with (except when I buy Chrissy presents for my non-Jewish friends as a mark of respect, and, as a mark of respect, they don't buy presents for me. In this situation, I'd rather disrespect.).

Furthermore, I imagine that it must be tremendously difficult for many of you to have the wonderful Christmas day that is expected, particularly for those of you from broken or blended families, or who have suffered the death of a loved one. As someone who has lost a family member, I'm kind of glad not to have another formal reminder of her absence.

So what do I actually do on Christmas day? Well, everyone is on holidays so it's a great time to get together with the people I love. When I was young, I used to go to Bondi Beach with a huge group of my Jewish friends, and hang out in the sun with the British backpackers while the rest of the country was inside eating ham. These days, I go to my parents' house on the coast with my husband and kids, and we have a barbeque lunch. There's no tree and there's no presents, but we do buy Christmas crackers because it's fun for the kids. And, whilst there's no turkey or ham or bizarro white desserts, my mum makes a brilliant fruitcake, which we devour with custard, simply because it's yum.

And there's my Christmas on the outside. So a very happy belated Chanukah to all my fellow outsiders (and a generic Season's Greetings to those of other (or no) faiths).

And to all of you celebrating Christmas from the inside, I hope your day is everything you wish for it to be, and you get all the presents you'd want for yourself (with maybe a couple of extras thrown in that you hadn't thought of).

Merry Christmas guys.

Love, Kerri

*Chanukah, the festival of lights, which admittedly isn't as big as Christmas, but also starts with a 'Ch'