I took this shot at the Taman Sari Bali resort in North-western Bali. I got up hoping for a beautiful sunrise. What I got was this…not what I was looking for, but still kind of pretty. A little illumination from the sliver of sunlight.
This year has been momentous. I have watched as my family and I have adapted to our move from Chilliwack, British Columbia, Canada, to Jakarta, Indonesia. I moved from teaching in a public school to an international, private school. I moved from one of the most beautiful places in the world (nah…it is the most beautiful) to a place I haven’t figured out yet. I moved from mountains and rivers to busy streets and overpopulation. I moved from ease and comfort (with a bit of financial challenge) to a place of challenge.
2012…the year of the move.
Our move to Jakarta from Chilliwack, British Columbia, Canada, was in large part due to a desire to show my children the world. There are moments, however, when I think that I was crazy to take my daughter (above) from the relative ease and comfort of North America and transplant her in a city like Jakarta.
I attended a formal dinner hosted by the Australian Embassy last night and was asked by some of the people at my table if I had lived in any other Asian cities before. When I answered, “No”, their reply was one of shock. When I asked why they were so shocked, they told me that if moving to an Asian city is like learning to ride a bike, then Singapore is the easy bike with training wheels, and Jakarta is like trying to learn to ride a bike by starting with a unicycle.
I guess I like a challenge, and I want that for my daughter. I want her to grow up knowing what the world is like, that there are challenges. What’s important is that we meet those challenges; sometimes we will fail, and sometimes we will triumph, but we will never avoid.
I hope I made the right move.
What is missed most in day to day observation are the things that exist, the beauty that exists, right under our proverbial noses. It is the trees that I pass every day on my commute. It’s the grasses, above, that grow outside my classroom. It’s the way headlights illuminate the reflectors on the road barriers.
Sylvia Plath wrote a poem called “Black Rook in Rainy Weather”. In it, she wrote the lines:
... A certain minor light may still Lean incandescent Out of kitchen table or chair As if a celestial burning took Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then...
It’s this “celestial burning” that I’m going to keep trying to capture this year. It’s day three of 365 photo posts. Let’s see how the rest of the year goes. Notice the most obtuse objects and capture celestial burning.
Well…at least that’s not too much a challenge.