I like to think that I approach life with an open mind and an open heart. That's certainly my aim. Not that I don't come with baggage, but hopefully it's a carry-on case rather than a convoy of lorries. I've had tough experiences, but no more than most other people I know and a lot less than the vast majority. I've had extraordinarily positive experiences too. I'm grateful for every opportunity that has opened up in front of me, and particularly for those that I've been brave enough to pry open further. The whole grab-bag of good and bad makes me who I am.
It was a big call to come back to Canberra - for a number of reasons - and I've had moments of regret along the way. Moments where I've felt like I might be running away from something rather than towards something. And that's in spite of the clear purpose I came here with. I'm fulfilling that purpose and will qualify as a primary school teacher by the end of this year. Beyond that lies a big unknown that will take me to my seventh home town.
Given that I won't be staying in Canberra beyond this year, I'm tempted to give up on it altogether, to put my head down and pretend that I'm living in a cave rather than a city that I've always struggled to connect with. But after weeks of thinking it over I've decided to invite the Berra back into my heart and to give it one last bash. It might be a cheap-n-nasty student-styley bash. It will definitely be raw and emotional at times. It might be silly + boring + sad + nonsensical + nostalgic + much more (or less). It might attract an audience of none. That's all okay. At the very least this blog gives me a way of recording and reflecting - of hanging in there - through these last seven months in the town I grew up in.
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