Lamb in the Mirror

As I turn up the collar on my favourite winter coat, this wind is blowing my mind ...

There I was, walking across Commonwealth Bridge by sunset, the wintry breeze against my face, and tears in my eyes. Walking helps to clear my mind, so I had decided to take the one hour walk home after a particularly draining day at work. There’s something invigorating and life-affirming of walking in your environment, a flanuer through your city.

And yet, here I was stranded on the bridge, in tears, the dim lights of Civic ahead, and Parliament House lit up behind. What had brought these tears, is the subject of this [self absorbed] blog.

At that moment on the bridge, I had the sobering realisation that, while I knew I was not perfect and my life was not perfect, there was a void within me. My comfortable first world life was tolerable and manageable, momentarily beautiful and occasionally transcendent, but at times also terrible and apocalyptic. And, at that point, incredibly empty. Where did this emptiness come from, and where does it reside?

No matter how altruistic, worldly, or selfless, the centre of one’s world is inevitably, oneself. The outside world is filtered through each person’s own experience and perspective. I’ve ambled through the last 31 years of my life doing well for myself, but not yet perfected. Or even near 80%. Was I a coherent whole? I felt that there were whole parts of me missing. In a rush to achieve this milestone, achieve that goal, by this time and by that time, to survive this and experience that, and become something … in the end, on this day, who am I?

I’m not a someone, I’m a some-little-bits-and-pieces-put-together. I’m a set of jigsaw pieces that may yet form a picture, but all the edges don’t click well. I’m cookie dough still baking in the oven, at 31. Life skills are missing, experiences not yet taken, and my connection to other people and the world worn down over the years. Some things are gonna change.

I’m gonna make a change, for once in my life, it’s gonna feel real good ...

For the past 3 years, I was working overseas in various capacities, in some middle-echelon of intergovernmental cooperation, and on the coalface of the refugee experience in Asia. I made my own little contribution to LGBTI health and drugs policy in Asia. And while it was a struggle at the time, in hindsight, they were some of the most rewarding experiences of my life. A hotline to the pulsing heart of humanity.

Against this, I also knew that, yes, the world is fucked. Not a fucked up whole - I haven't worked that one out yet. But fucked up in so many little ways, in all corners of the world, that there appears to be much suffering and limited fairness in the world. I myself, am a contributor.

And now, love, circumstances and my own decisions have brought me back to Canberra. Also fucked. And also beautiful.

I’m starting with the man in the mirror … I’m asking him to change his ways

Like I said above, I want to change. I want to fill in the gaps of my emptiness. I want to put all of me together, roll me all up, and process myself into a functioning contribution to this world. I know I’m just a speck of dust on the verge that connects to the wheels, whose cogs make the clock tick, as time moves at its inevitable and unyielding pace. And in order to be as functional a speck of dust as I can be, I’m going to have to look at myself in the mirror and work out who I am, who I want to be, and ask myself to change. It is in that gap between who we are and who we want to be, that we reveal an authentic part of ourselves. The emptiness in my life exists because I am unsure of who I am, and not sure of who I want to be.

So buckle up, it’s going to be a bumpy post-by-post look at Lamb in the Mirror.