Standing On the Edge of the Bay

Walking with our feet soaked in the surging low tide, Dule and I immersed ourselves into  the night, as part of the calm ocean waters sweeping gently on to the shore at Cronulla Beach, southern Sydney, made a connection with our inner selves. The air hung thick with heat and humidity. There was muted laughter somewhere, and then once in a while, a liberating shout or fun scream jabbed the silence like in much needed relief. It was way past midnight.  Small groups of people could be seen through their silhouettes, sitting on various nooks and corners of the long sandy stretch hugging a wide bay.  There were even a few midnight swimmers, mainly party revellers and teenage groups, enjoying a dunking cooling time on the water near the shore. What a summery night.  We tried to check out the catch of a fisherman, but he was rather quiet and reserved, so we left him alone.

Back in Dule's place, sitting in the back patio of the family home, even on a rather muggy hot night, was reminiscent of old times I spent with the Subotic brothers.  Father Subotic was friendly and animated in conversation and  the pet, little Gingi, was getting old and frail.  In the car, Dule mentioned this time around about feeling rather strange, returning for a visit after a few years, about Australia, even if this was the land he grew up in.  Maybe Dule had totally embraced his new adopted abode in London, with so varied and different parameters - and the spaciousness of and apparent lack of people in Australia was a shock back to the future.  In London, he commuted by bike, faced more confronting temperatures, came across more people, faced up to more diversions, and generally dealt with more dynamic activity. Dule later said over the phone about going back one day to the old work haunts around Wynyard, Sydney - and that it felt so long ago, just hanging around there.

This evening, I felt rather out of place as well, but in my adopted land.  Maybe it is a passing fad for me. Working hard for most of the day in the office, without much opportunity to dwell on it, I suddenly felt a wave of lack of purpose, an apparent throb of the same nothingness, the same some kind of people ignoring me and the spectre of superficiality of things.   Once back home, to try to shake it off, I went through the motions of keeping busy, even if I was exhausted  with a lack of motivation. I vacuumed, I cooked and I instant messaged people on the mobile, even if it was a Monday night.  I looked for the monitor lizard that had escaped inside my house yesterday morning.   Still,  I could not shake off the realisation that I could not continue like that - going through the motions.  I had to re-inspire myself!

I thought back to that night standing on the edge of Cronulla Bay. It was magical. It brought back memories of a more care free time, even extending back to the heady beach days of Phuket, Koh Samui and Penang. It was a period of acceptance, of no unrealistic expectations, of enjoying the present moment. Holly passed me an article she wrote only last week, of always embracing fully, and without hesitation, of what life has to offer now, even if in a cluttered, imperfect way - no matter what. Even if I have seen and aspired to attain what can be otherwise, but have not. The salt and wind on our faces was not comparable to anything that I come across in the day to day routine.  It reminded me to just take in what was there for us.  And accept with gratitude the still good things that make me happy.

Like when I was pleasantly surprised as to how delicious the satay chicken was at My Lan Restaurant in Wollongong town, and if Dylan had not suggested ordering that , I would not have realised this discovery.  Another recent culinary delight and experience I had was by the river near the Kallang Stadium in Singapore.  Kit and Bee had organised a hearty seafood dinner along what seemed to be a look alike Brisbane River scene.  The evening was rather cool for an equatorial place and the company easy and relaxing, with Tricia and Austin as well.  Then there was the afternoon Alice, Ah Choon and their Mum invited a few of us to their residence for home made traditional recipe noodle soup.  We were just ourselves, unassuming and taking in the love and care of cooking from the heart.

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