The problem with relationships

Marriage on a good day can be great. On a bad day it can be War of the Roses. I've been lucky to enjoy a marriage that's been a significant contributor to my happiness. That's certainly not the case with all relationships.

Marriage vows, of the traditional form found in most Christian services, contain more lies than a job interview. Take the "to death do us part" bit. Does anyone really mean that? I don't think so. In most cases the promise is full of implied conditions such as "so long as you don't sleep with someone else" or "so long as I feel happier being here than somewhere else". Only the most new age of Christian services would include honest vows.

This "to death do us part" creates a sense of failure on the part of a couple who decide to separate. It's simply not needed and, I argue, not healthy. Surely it would be better to stay together while ever two people are committed to one another. If staying together produces greater happiness for both partners then stay together. But when when life changes, move on and stay friends. A marriage committed to "to death to us part" is pointless. A marriage committed to one another's happiness and well-being makes sense and contributes to a better world.

This thinking works for all kinds of relationships. Intimate partnerships, friendships, work, you name it, a relationship founded on a promise to stay together for a life time is simply not realistic. Better to start off with a dose of reality and make sensible commitments than set oneself up for continual failure. Sure, commit to another person's life time happiness, just not to a life time in the same bed.

Did I make a difference?

Today I had a conversation with a young man. He's a young man with a troubled history. One of those histories that you hope your unborn kids don't inherit.

The start of this story is the first time a needle touched his skin. The first buzz of the craziness of a line of speed. The slow, smooth wash of a cone laden with ganja. And from each of these firsts came a life slipping, sliding, scrambling, and slithering into a life of blurred senses and frightening criminal actions. A life, once full of promise, that today clambers for the tiniest of recognition beyond bars.

Life in these surrounds seems at first to be desperate and hopeless. Each day turns into the next with only the sun's slow arc across the sky to set them apart. Hope is what is read in a magazine and life is what is enjoyed by others.

But this young man is different. In his eyes is a steely resolve to start anew, to be something more - or just to be normal. Sometimes even the most mundane goals are those from seeds of the greatest tree of inspiration.

His are goals to be merely normal. To contribute in ways that the most ordinary of the free take for granted. And in this struggle to be normal and average is a struggle to learn the skills that many boring, pedestrian, mundane successful people take for granted.

Forget the grand, forget the eloquent. Just let's make it to tomorrow in a way that leaves this young man proud to be just ordinary.

In my heart of hearts I hope I'm there to cheer him on and to make that tiny bit of difference. In so doing I hope that his life becomes the most beautiful, ordinary life there is.

Ban plastic water containers?

It's easy to complain about life, to be critical but do nothing to make a change. That's exactly what I was beginning to do several weeks ago. I climb Jacob's Ladder at least three times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at 6am. Jacob's Ladder is an amazing place. At the top the views of the river and city are sensational and on a crisp, clear morning I love being part of the sun peeking over the Darling Scarp and bringing myself to life with the sound of birds and people doing good things for their health.

When I climb stairs I tend to look down. It's a smart thing to do. And that's when I began to notice the amount of litter under Jacob's Ladder. There were pieces of paper, glass bottles and plastic drink containers. Actually, make that lots, and lots, and lots of plastic drink containers. Under bushes and shrubs, under the stairs, in the grass. All over the place. And that's when I started to complain to myself.

Why isn't the council doing something about this? Someone should do something about this mess. Should, should, should. Then I got to thinking that, rather then simply wish for something different I could do something about it. I'll phone the council and ask them to get someone out there. But that could take ages so I thought why not just clean it up myself?

And that's exactly what I did. Over the next few visits to the ladder I took some big green garbage bags and cleaned the place up. Now, each time I climb the ladder I keep a look out for plastic drink bottles and collect them and throw them in the bin. It feels great to keep a little part of this beautiful place in the world looking clean and tidy.

Now the question is, how do we get rid of the water bottles in the first place? My challenge to anyone is to observe the litter on the side of a road or footpath. In most cases much of it will be plastic drink containers. If keeping our part of the world clean is not motivation enough how can we create an incentive for people to recycle/reuse/collect these containers. I'll bet if we had a clever solution there could be a great little business in people collecting drink containers to claim a reward. Outside of a small incentive for people to return them to a collection depot, as they do in South Australia, I'm not sure how else it could be done.

What a mango asks about carrots and water

It's just started to rain. That light rain that slowly gets heavier and heavier and where the air is still and thick. A thunder storm is not far away.

The weather has little to do with eating a mango. Eating a mango in the tropical heat of an impending summer storm feels the right thing to do though. Almost as if I'm in the tropics far away - just me and my thoughts and mango juice dripping from my hands and down my arms. It's luxury to eat so decadently.

This mango came from Derby. It was plucked from a tree by a friend and boxed up with a dozen or so other South bound mangoes. Just as fresh and as ripe and as chemical free as can be. Perfect.

All this mango heaven got me thinking about carrots - and water. My nephew brought around a fresh garden carrot the other day. Plucked from their garden and brought right to our front door you'd think it would just be the tastiest, crunchiest carrot in existence. But it's not. Within no time at all it was soft and soggy and you'd barely contemplate eating it. I got to asking "why does this carrot, so fresh from the ground and so free of chemicals, get to be so soggy when the ones we buy in the shop stay crisp and strong for so long?" What's the difference?

Which brought me to water. The other night on the tube there was a feature on fluoridation of water. Here in Perth our water is fluoridated. We don't get to chose if we want it fluoridated or not - it just is. And this brings me back to carrots. I don't know what's in those shop-bought carrots that are so crisp and taste so fresh. Are they genetically modified? Do they contain chemicals that could be doing me harm? Why do they stay so crisp?

Of course I'll probably never know the answer. But one thing I do know is that mango was simply delicious. And being that it was plucked from a tree in a back yard, untouched and unpreserved by chemicals it was a real gift to enjoy.

Sometimes hope is hard to find

I was driving to my IT guys office today and saw something that gave me reason to think maybe we shouldn't be hopeful about the future. I should probably firstly say that I'm usually a positive person. In most circumstances I can see how the human spirit can, and usually does, triumph over adversity. But today was a bit different.

My travels took me through Rivervale, a working class suburb of Perth, but one that isn't particularly rugged or rough, and one where you could expect to drive trough without too many problems. What I saw shocked me. In broad daylight and in full view of the public, I saw a young man shooting up on the sidewalk. It wasn't so much the drug taking - there's plenty of that happening. It wasn't even so much where it happened. After all, even wealthy suburbs are full of drugs. I guess what unsettled me was the apparent hopelessness of the scene. Here was a young man with his life in front of him and all he could see was the point of a needle plunging in to his arm in order to get high. I just thought that, if that's the future of our country and our planet, then we don't have much of a future.

I'm really not sure what to make of this but I guess what I saw is a very small unrepresentative sample of today's youth. What I didn't see is all though young people working at creating a future for themselves by studying or working at a trade or generally contributing to society. I hope to continue to set an example to give the world a better future.

First year finished

That's it, the first year of my Master's degree is now officially over and I'm now waiting on my final marks. The last essay I handed in was a disaster. I was just so over studies by the time I got around to writing that I couldn't get my thoughts straight. There were points mentioned twice and the flow was really awful, but hey, it's done. Now I'm looking for a job.

Last night I jumped onto Seek and found a few short term contract jobs that look interesting. Will make a few calls shortly to make some inquiries.

I stacked my bike this morning

That's right, a crash. Riding along the same path I always ride on with a highly experienced rider next to me on my right, he decides he wants to turn left with no indication whatsoever. He bumps me hard and I end up climbing - then crashing - over an island in the middle of the road and take some bark off my knuckles and shin, he hits the deck hard on his left shoulder. He thought it may have been dislocated, but rode off anyway.

It's just one of those random things that happen in life.