SHORT STORY
Karen Paull
Community Chaplain
Leaving the Shore
The Dusty Veteran Old Mate would peddle his stories to anyone who walked by. He looked as old as earth; his face lined like the ripples of the desert. Upon the sparse tufts of prickly grass outside the front of Old Mate’s house was his rusting cast iron tub. Old Mate would wake with the colouring of the sky and fill his tub, bucket by bucket. His frail frame would strain under the climbing sun, red dust filling the cracks of his cobbled brow. After the bath was full, he’d change into bathing shorts, place his faded pink towel astride his head, and slosh into the cool water. Old Mate would wipe his face with his knotted hands, and gently wash the few hairs on his speckled head. Children of passing families would try to stop and listen, eager to hear what he had to say. On his good days, he told stories of working on a submarine that took him to far away countries, how it had breached and was torpedoed. He spoke of prison camps in dusty places where one could poke a finger between their ribs and find nought but sand and space. As he spoke every shadow of the landscape appeared to shift to his words, and he himself appeared lighter. On his quiet days, he could be seen looking despondently into the dirty waters of his bath, resigned to accept that the dust would never wash away from the creases of his body. AISLINN MCKENZIE
We stood admiring the peaceful myriad boats anchored in Middle Harbour. My husband and myself were preparing our next ‘Walk and Wonder’ event, which often incorporates a group discussion midway, over a snack and a coffee if we’re in luck. So, we lingered, sampling the coffee from the van there, as good group leaders do! As we sipped, we wondered, how many of those boats remained there permanently and how many still ventured out to sea? And what about us, were we still ‘venturing’? Crossing from Adelaide to Sydney seven years ago was so enlivening! Significant risks and complexities were involved, but we felt ‘called’ to this endeavour, so we examined it from many angles. Consultations with family members, mentors and trusted friends, future employers in situ, all undergirded by prayerful consideration, occurred. Then we pulled up the anchor! We are so glad we did. It felt like we had been transported into a new and refreshed life, while retaining important links to the ‘old’ one. Anchors in our lives keep us stable and sane. Without some constants, life is tiring and too many changes are counter-productive. However, if there is no movement happening anywhere, I question whether this is the best life can be? We can become too comfortable and forget what it’s like to live with uncertainty, so change becomes something to fear. Fear can limit us from taking steps that would be highly beneficial for us and for others. What stable areas of your life no longer serve you and those around you well? Could they do with some rocking? Small movements are a helpful start, if fear has taken hold. Having a friend on the new journey is beneficial too, although not essential. Getting involved in your local community may be a safe place to begin. Or are there are bigger changes to consider? Discussing them with someone who cares about you, can help move them ahead. As your Community Chaplain, I may be able to assist you. I can be an independent sounding board if you are considering making changes to your life. I also host various groups where people enjoy meeting and including others. Maybe join our Middle Harbour meander when restrictions are lifted? Or meditation over Zoom may be more your style? Contact me for more details. “A ship in harbour is safe but that is not what ships are built for” - John A Shedd, 1928
Contact details: Rev Karen Paull 0400 299 751 lanecovechaplain@gmail.com www.lanecovecc.com LANE COVE COMMUNITY CHAPLAINCY TVO 35 SUPPORTED BY LANE COVE UNITING CHURCH
