I'm at the hostel and it's my last night in Australia, tomorrow I fly to San Diego to continue my adventure. I leave Australia with a greater awareness of the amazing world of the amazing people around me. I leave humbled by how much more I've yet to do... In spirit of starting a new chapter with my life, I'm closing this blog... at least for awhile. I don't anticipate that to be a huge disappointment to anyone, I don't even know how many people read this, but that's not the point.
It's served its two main purposes of keeping me connected to you while overseas and providing a different means for me to explore my perspectives while here. Of all the many 'take aways' from my time here, one has been a glimpse into all of the kick ass things there are to do in this world. So many crazy experiences to have. I have an appreciation for all that I've done, and an even greater desire towards all that I want to do.
The main question I have after making this dream of mine happen: What the hell took me so long to get here; what else am I putting off that could be as good as or better than this? So in that spirit of desire, I thought I'd close this blog with a journal I did sometime ago during my stay here.
Thanks for your company, all is Love, dare to dream.
"God asks, 'Ryan, do you love me?'
I stare, think, stop, 'That's a good question... why do you ask?'
And my heart continues, 'For you surely already know the answer; you know it more assuredly than I do. So why DO you ask, because I truthfully do not know. I think I do, I want to, I think I want to, but I pause when I go to respond. How is it that I can want, to DESIRE, to love another, when I'm not even sure what that entails?
I don't believe I've experienced that DESIRE to love another HUMAN BEING... there's been a desire for the human, physically or emotionally, but not a desire for the love, at least according to my senses - although with my new focus on the feelings instead of the person that perspective seems to be changing. But perhaps that's all one in the same. Perhaps the DESIRE for love is where divinity really rests, not the love itself, or lack there of, but that space between... I think we can agree that the desire for love and not the desire for the individual is what is supreme.
The people and creations of this world are God's and God is Love... some would say desire separates the two; others would say it links the two. Feelings and non - feelings... our experience is God's experience... through Him we are given life, and through us He gives Himself... contrast... perspective... desire. In my humble human eyes the all-knowing, all-powerful, all-pervasive existence of God can't know that powerful feeling of desire save through the experiences of His creations. For me, the phrase "Seize the day" or "Live like you're dieing" takes on new meaning in this context. It's powerful to want, to dream, and it's divine to pursue those ends... even in the smallest, seemingly insignificant ways.
Lord give me wonder and give me awe, give me a touch of folly. I don't want answers, only to let me know your Love in new ways, everyday."
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Moving on
It's good to be free again. My brother and parents have made their trecks back home after their successive two week visits. And was it ever an amazing time. This isn't to say I'm happy to be 'rid' of my family. Not at all, but my time here has really started to come full circle. It felt good saying so long to my parents as they hopped in the cab watching me walk away not having a clue as to where exactly I was going. I felt comfortable this time though. I wasn't nervous, or unsure of myself the way I was my first night in New Zealand... an entirely different anticipation and excitement for what's to come. So yes, it's good to be free again. Free of my apartment, free of classes, free to explore on my own accord. Interesting thing is we're always free of that stuff, we just make excuses so they get in our way.
Patrick's week here flew by. We did the bar thing here and there, met some locals, laughed, and just enjoyed each others company. Though I should have expected this, it was strange how natural it was for him to be off exploring the otherside of the world with me. We picked up right where we left off, as brothers naturally would, but before he got here I was expecting some overwhelming sense of "Hot damn I can't believe you're here!" And that sense was there, but it was more calm cool and collected, more, "Yeah, this is pretty cool, this is good, this works." Same thing happened with my parents.
So over the past few weeks we drove a couple thousand Kilometers in a gigantor 20 foot wide RV Winnebago. I distinctly remember calling my parents warning them that alot of those camper vans are manual transmissions. They didn't seem too concerned about it. So when my dad and brother weren't back at 3:00 in the afternoon with the mamoth van, I called the rental company and learned it was picked up at 11:30 that afternoon. After a few other phone calls to the police and to their cell phones, I arrived back at my apartment to see my dad chuckling and grinning from ear to ear, my mom laughing at the hell we were surely about to unleash on the roads of Australia, and Patrick cowering upstairs, clutching a bible, refusing to speak about the afternoons events until the end of his time here. It was gonna be a great time (ahem, the RV was a manual transmission, with a crappy first gear).
We all took our chances in trying to learn to drive a manual - something that I've never been privey to before, but let Dad do most of the driving the first day. It took us two hours to get out of Sydney because I sent us in the wrong direction, and then the helpful homeless people started making enlightening comments like, "Learn the f*cking rules of the road asshole!" while walking through the cross walk which we were half way blocking due to multiple stalls and missed green lights. That time the people behind us didn't seem to honk all that much, which was a nice reprive from the normal symphony of horns we heard. I thought Sydney-siders used their horns alot when I was just walking down the side walk. Try being on the road during rush hour when no one has a damn clue what the rules are, let alone how to safely drive the vehicle. Dad relayed a few more stories about how he wasn't the only guy that wanted to "Beat my American ass"
You know that song, "I'm your venus, I'm your fire, your desire..." or whatever it is? They use it for a ladies razor I believe? We went on a little day cruise out to some islands to see the sights and do some snorkeling (which was absolute paradise), and low and behold the owner of the boat was the drummer for the band that wrote that song. Can't remember what they're called. But I just like those stories. What I like even better is that he sold his business, but his entire life savings and then some into his dream to build the very boat that we were riding on. He lives on it with his wife (at least I think that's what she was) and comes and goes as he pleases. Travels the world. He was caught in a Hurrican with that ship before. He is one sweet dude, so was the misses... that whole day was amazing.
So we drove some 20 plus hours north to some warm weather. Made some great stops along the way, and saw amazing scenery as well. A few nights we just parked along side of the road to recooperate from the wonderfully exciting day. If it was up to Patrick we would have driven straight through, the man's a machine, and by the end an expert driver. I let everyone else do most of the driving at first because I wanted them to get as much practice in as possible. I'm just considerate like that, but then my hand was forced and I got to tackle Sydney on our way home. By the end I was declaring my self a master driver and king of the world. I dominated the road... I'm guessing I only took out about two or three side view mirrors.
My dad, I see him as a sort of social genius. I'm not really too sure how he does it, but the man can just start talking to people and make friends. We met some blokes in Coffs Harbour one night when we innocently poked our heads into this irish bar looking for some dinner; two glasses of Jamison later, dad came back from his aimless wanderings and invited my mom and I over to their table and the drinks started flowing. It was an amazingly fun night. We made plans to go fishing the next morning and everything, but couldn't because the RV was due back in Sydney the next day (some 10 hrs away).
Dad bought me a fishing pole. Luckily enough because he dropped his into the Ocean one night when he was fishing off of the rocks. I just finished reading Cannery Row by... wow my memory fails me... John Steinbeck. One of the characters in it was a warm hearted, minding your own business but trouble seems to find him kinda guy named Mac. Dad met another guy while fishing named Mac who I envisioned as much like the character in the book. The real Mac did carney work for a living. He had a bad accident with a circular saw, mucking up a bunch of tendons in his wrist, so he didn't have good functioning in his hand, makes finding alot of work challenging. He claimed to be out there fishing every night until two in the morning, and were it not for the crazy weather the following nights I'm sure he would have been. He was a marine hobbyist, used to have like a 100 gallon fish tank, which was great for me because that meant we could actually talk about something. He told me about all of the crazy fish he used to have, he new a supplier that hooked him up with all of his stuff. It was nothing I needed to know, or particularly wanted to know, but it was a great time nonetheless. I didn't catch any fish that night. All in all, the time with my parents was freakin sweet. One for the record books. So many small little stories.
Now, I'm on my own again. I'm out on my own, with no one to answer to but myself, no homebase save the one on the other side of the world, and no worries in general. I've got a job lined up for the next two weeks, and then I head home to visit some quality people, and I transition from this phase of my adventures to the next with another glorious week of Eagle U.
Life is grand.
Patrick's week here flew by. We did the bar thing here and there, met some locals, laughed, and just enjoyed each others company. Though I should have expected this, it was strange how natural it was for him to be off exploring the otherside of the world with me. We picked up right where we left off, as brothers naturally would, but before he got here I was expecting some overwhelming sense of "Hot damn I can't believe you're here!" And that sense was there, but it was more calm cool and collected, more, "Yeah, this is pretty cool, this is good, this works." Same thing happened with my parents.
So over the past few weeks we drove a couple thousand Kilometers in a gigantor 20 foot wide RV Winnebago. I distinctly remember calling my parents warning them that alot of those camper vans are manual transmissions. They didn't seem too concerned about it. So when my dad and brother weren't back at 3:00 in the afternoon with the mamoth van, I called the rental company and learned it was picked up at 11:30 that afternoon. After a few other phone calls to the police and to their cell phones, I arrived back at my apartment to see my dad chuckling and grinning from ear to ear, my mom laughing at the hell we were surely about to unleash on the roads of Australia, and Patrick cowering upstairs, clutching a bible, refusing to speak about the afternoons events until the end of his time here. It was gonna be a great time (ahem, the RV was a manual transmission, with a crappy first gear).
We all took our chances in trying to learn to drive a manual - something that I've never been privey to before, but let Dad do most of the driving the first day. It took us two hours to get out of Sydney because I sent us in the wrong direction, and then the helpful homeless people started making enlightening comments like, "Learn the f*cking rules of the road asshole!" while walking through the cross walk which we were half way blocking due to multiple stalls and missed green lights. That time the people behind us didn't seem to honk all that much, which was a nice reprive from the normal symphony of horns we heard. I thought Sydney-siders used their horns alot when I was just walking down the side walk. Try being on the road during rush hour when no one has a damn clue what the rules are, let alone how to safely drive the vehicle. Dad relayed a few more stories about how he wasn't the only guy that wanted to "Beat my American ass"
You know that song, "I'm your venus, I'm your fire, your desire..." or whatever it is? They use it for a ladies razor I believe? We went on a little day cruise out to some islands to see the sights and do some snorkeling (which was absolute paradise), and low and behold the owner of the boat was the drummer for the band that wrote that song. Can't remember what they're called. But I just like those stories. What I like even better is that he sold his business, but his entire life savings and then some into his dream to build the very boat that we were riding on. He lives on it with his wife (at least I think that's what she was) and comes and goes as he pleases. Travels the world. He was caught in a Hurrican with that ship before. He is one sweet dude, so was the misses... that whole day was amazing.
So we drove some 20 plus hours north to some warm weather. Made some great stops along the way, and saw amazing scenery as well. A few nights we just parked along side of the road to recooperate from the wonderfully exciting day. If it was up to Patrick we would have driven straight through, the man's a machine, and by the end an expert driver. I let everyone else do most of the driving at first because I wanted them to get as much practice in as possible. I'm just considerate like that, but then my hand was forced and I got to tackle Sydney on our way home. By the end I was declaring my self a master driver and king of the world. I dominated the road... I'm guessing I only took out about two or three side view mirrors.
My dad, I see him as a sort of social genius. I'm not really too sure how he does it, but the man can just start talking to people and make friends. We met some blokes in Coffs Harbour one night when we innocently poked our heads into this irish bar looking for some dinner; two glasses of Jamison later, dad came back from his aimless wanderings and invited my mom and I over to their table and the drinks started flowing. It was an amazingly fun night. We made plans to go fishing the next morning and everything, but couldn't because the RV was due back in Sydney the next day (some 10 hrs away).
Dad bought me a fishing pole. Luckily enough because he dropped his into the Ocean one night when he was fishing off of the rocks. I just finished reading Cannery Row by... wow my memory fails me... John Steinbeck. One of the characters in it was a warm hearted, minding your own business but trouble seems to find him kinda guy named Mac. Dad met another guy while fishing named Mac who I envisioned as much like the character in the book. The real Mac did carney work for a living. He had a bad accident with a circular saw, mucking up a bunch of tendons in his wrist, so he didn't have good functioning in his hand, makes finding alot of work challenging. He claimed to be out there fishing every night until two in the morning, and were it not for the crazy weather the following nights I'm sure he would have been. He was a marine hobbyist, used to have like a 100 gallon fish tank, which was great for me because that meant we could actually talk about something. He told me about all of the crazy fish he used to have, he new a supplier that hooked him up with all of his stuff. It was nothing I needed to know, or particularly wanted to know, but it was a great time nonetheless. I didn't catch any fish that night. All in all, the time with my parents was freakin sweet. One for the record books. So many small little stories.
Now, I'm on my own again. I'm out on my own, with no one to answer to but myself, no homebase save the one on the other side of the world, and no worries in general. I've got a job lined up for the next two weeks, and then I head home to visit some quality people, and I transition from this phase of my adventures to the next with another glorious week of Eagle U.
Life is grand.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Pootypablo and the Olympics
I know what you're thinking. WAIT. First of all, for those of you out of the know, Pootypablo is also known as my brother (the twin) Patrick N. Bannan. He's also known as Beetle (as in Beetle Bailey) and other various names which I will not get into here.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Oh, Pootypablo and the Olympics, Ryan is probably gonna make some lame heartless joke about the Special Olympics." But you're WRONG. They're completely unrelated topics.
1) The PatMan himself is FINALLY here. He has been here for 26 hours and I have already laughed more then I have in the past 5 months of being here. It's GLORIOUS I tell you! So grateful to have the family I do because they rock my socks off, bitches.
2) I just had one of the most amazing conversations of my life with a guy who plays volleyball in the Olympics, is a professional speaker, and has all kinds of other crazy business ventures in the works. Speaking of the Special Olympics, inspiring-ly enough, this man I just talked to draws a lot of his inspiration from his mentally handicapped brother who despite his challenges, was the picture of what is happiness and joy in this world. So many people have so much more than that young man and we don't do what we are capable of to really take advantage of this gift we were given... reminds me of the father who does marathons and iron man competitions with his handicapped son - and still finishes at the top of the pack (you can find something about that on google or you tube - pretty inspiring stuff). The guy I just talked with is Andrew McCombe, and I'm going to plug his website and business now because that half hour conversation did great things to change my perspectives on life, and he gave me some great tools to make my dreams happen. www.activateyourlife.com - check it out. And if you like that, well even if you don't like that, you should also check out www.coachedbypatrick.com - I am a personal growth junkie, and this stuff is powerful, plain and simple. DO IT.
3) Did I mention Patrick is here? The man's hilarious. He's probably thinking about something ridiculously funny right now, and the average person would never know it. Yup.
You have a fantabulous day dear friend.
Radical Ryno
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Oh, Pootypablo and the Olympics, Ryan is probably gonna make some lame heartless joke about the Special Olympics." But you're WRONG. They're completely unrelated topics.
1) The PatMan himself is FINALLY here. He has been here for 26 hours and I have already laughed more then I have in the past 5 months of being here. It's GLORIOUS I tell you! So grateful to have the family I do because they rock my socks off, bitches.
2) I just had one of the most amazing conversations of my life with a guy who plays volleyball in the Olympics, is a professional speaker, and has all kinds of other crazy business ventures in the works. Speaking of the Special Olympics, inspiring-ly enough, this man I just talked to draws a lot of his inspiration from his mentally handicapped brother who despite his challenges, was the picture of what is happiness and joy in this world. So many people have so much more than that young man and we don't do what we are capable of to really take advantage of this gift we were given... reminds me of the father who does marathons and iron man competitions with his handicapped son - and still finishes at the top of the pack (you can find something about that on google or you tube - pretty inspiring stuff). The guy I just talked with is Andrew McCombe, and I'm going to plug his website and business now because that half hour conversation did great things to change my perspectives on life, and he gave me some great tools to make my dreams happen. www.activateyourlife.com - check it out. And if you like that, well even if you don't like that, you should also check out www.coachedbypatrick.com - I am a personal growth junkie, and this stuff is powerful, plain and simple. DO IT.
3) Did I mention Patrick is here? The man's hilarious. He's probably thinking about something ridiculously funny right now, and the average person would never know it. Yup.
You have a fantabulous day dear friend.
Radical Ryno
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Inspiration comes in many forms
Of all the crazy things that can inspire us and amuse us in the world, our friends and family far surpass anything else that I've come across which might be considered even mildly entertaining. There are a few people in our lives, well, a load of them in mine, and I'm sure in yours if you take a second to think about the uniqueness of each person you've met, that have so much character to them.
Life for me has become a whole lot more entertaining when I stop and appreciate the kinds of wacky characters that are in my life. Namely, but definately not limited to, the better looking version of me, my brother Patrick, who's going to be here in a few days. This is his latest email reply to me in response to my proposed itinerary I sent to him:
"Boy, you're amazing. This is weird, but I'm a little scared this trip
is going to fly by so fast superman couldn't catch it. I'm shitting my
pants I'm so excited."
Gotta love the characters. My family is full of them, which, if I can say so myself, is pretty derned Radical.
- the Rhinocerous
Life for me has become a whole lot more entertaining when I stop and appreciate the kinds of wacky characters that are in my life. Namely, but definately not limited to, the better looking version of me, my brother Patrick, who's going to be here in a few days. This is his latest email reply to me in response to my proposed itinerary I sent to him:
"Boy, you're amazing. This is weird, but I'm a little scared this trip
is going to fly by so fast superman couldn't catch it. I'm shitting my
pants I'm so excited."
Gotta love the characters. My family is full of them, which, if I can say so myself, is pretty derned Radical.
- the Rhinocerous
Monday, June 18, 2007
Sunflower seeds
I'm amazed at how just a few handfuls of unsalted sunflower seeds can maintain your energy levels throughout the day. What a glorious snack I've stumbled upon! I may have recently become addicted to novels by John Steinbeck. Better than TV (except for House, and movies on TV are exempt as well... as long as they don't have stupid commercials).
....
Ok that's all. Make it a great day.
....
Ok that's all. Make it a great day.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Oh yeah,
That last post was never meant to be about my beard. WHOA what a tangent. It was about how the younger dude was saying hi, and then today on my way to school I passed a grown man and we both WHISPERED "hey", only it was more like "eh", as we passed each other in a 3 foot wide alley with no one else in the vicinity. CAN'T LET ANYONE KNOW YOU'RE BEING FRIENDLY SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! People are interesting. How hard is it to say in a clear and concise way, "Well hello there kind Sir, you have a jolly good day now!" It doesn't seem that hard... seems kinda weird when I put it like that I guess, but whatever...
Walking by saying HIIIIIIII!!!!
Back in the old days, when I was a wee young lad, around the ripe age of middle school, I was a rather gregarious fellow. That is if the definition of gregarious works for the description I'm going for... Let's see... Yep that'll do. I was a gregarious young fellow, belching out HI, and HELLO, and HOWDY, and HOLA, and pretty much whatever the hell else you can think of that mean's "hi". One of my buddy's got me a card that had a billion ways to say hi on it because I was always saying "hi" to anyone and everyone who would, and wouldn't, give me attention. I think he was talking shit, but that's besides the point.
Some little dude gave me one of those friendly shoutouts the other day, only here it's more like "AYE!", or... "EYE!" But I could be wrong because people also say that when they can't understand a damn word that's commin outta your mouth. I think he felt connected with me because we both had facial hair. He had a rat like mustache we commonly see pre-pubescent boys on stereroids with. He had a rat like, 13 year old stereroid mustache that was thicker than the entire conglomerate... wait... dictionary... I find the best way to learn words is by attempting to use them... and risking making a fool of yourself because that is definately not the word I was looking for... unless you consider the colors. I've got some reds, I've got some blondes, I've got some browns, I've got it all baby. Sorry. Back to my story. He had more mustache hair than I did on my entire face.
I was at some German bar the other night and some dude started yelling "CARNEY!! CARRRRNNEEY!" In a really obnoxious, gruff, joking manner to one of his other buddies. He was either making reference to my beard, or he was making reference to my beard. I find that to be HILARIOUS. Mostly because it brings me back to the good old Curwood Days... makes me feel connected to home (tear). But enough about me... I think I'll actually make an attempt at talking about something other than myself next time I write.
Some little dude gave me one of those friendly shoutouts the other day, only here it's more like "AYE!", or... "EYE!" But I could be wrong because people also say that when they can't understand a damn word that's commin outta your mouth. I think he felt connected with me because we both had facial hair. He had a rat like mustache we commonly see pre-pubescent boys on stereroids with. He had a rat like, 13 year old stereroid mustache that was thicker than the entire conglomerate... wait... dictionary... I find the best way to learn words is by attempting to use them... and risking making a fool of yourself because that is definately not the word I was looking for... unless you consider the colors. I've got some reds, I've got some blondes, I've got some browns, I've got it all baby. Sorry. Back to my story. He had more mustache hair than I did on my entire face.
I was at some German bar the other night and some dude started yelling "CARNEY!! CARRRRNNEEY!" In a really obnoxious, gruff, joking manner to one of his other buddies. He was either making reference to my beard, or he was making reference to my beard. I find that to be HILARIOUS. Mostly because it brings me back to the good old Curwood Days... makes me feel connected to home (tear). But enough about me... I think I'll actually make an attempt at talking about something other than myself next time I write.
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