I’m sure everyone has at some point been told putting yourself out of your comfort zone brings benefits, and trying new things helps us grow as individuals. We can choose to do this, but at times it is thrust upon us. This past week could have been an “interesting” one in that regard, but fortune was on my side and just in the nick of time things took an unexpected turn in my favour. Twenty one years back, almost to the day, the official running the ceremony when along with a bunch of strangers I took the final vows in order to become a citizen, told us that we now had three great advantages in life:
The passport was the first, and the second was the chance to be called for jury duty. I had managed to avoid this second wonderful advantage in life until two weeks back when I got the letter calling me in. On Monday last week I turned up and waited in a small stuffy room with some fifty other people. Over an hour later we marched into the court room and the accused stood and pleaded not guilty. This meant twelve of us would be “lucky” to get picked, and the lotto was drawn. They quite literally pulled pieces of paper out of a box with our respective allocated numbers on them. My number was drawn, and it was due to be a four day trail:
All I will say is that it was not going to be a pleasant experience. The formal court proceedings were broken up with various adjournments, and soon it was late on the first day. We walked back into the jury box for the fifth time bracing ourselves again for the uncomfortable experience of hearing from witnesses and seeing confronting and graphic evidence. Instead, the accused unexpectedly changed their plea and the jury was discharged. It is fair to say all twelve jurors breathed a huge sigh of relief, and of all the people who knew I had been called up only a small handful said they would enjoy the experience:
You may be wondering what the final “great advantages in life” was that I earned twenty one year back. And this one I really hope we, and I mean we, never have to encounter as it was being able to be enlisted to serve and fight for the country. While this may seem a rather miserable topic for my musings today, the topic of trying new things is relevant. After taking Sarah to Moses Rocks last week, Rongy and I today introduced her to its big brother. We had another wet and wild week, but the Friday and weekend were forecast to have a minimal chance of precipitation:
Howsie popped up to Welly Dam on Friday and told me every route was running with water, which is unusual. Due to the steep walls there, normally one or two lines are dry enough to be climbable. The conditions steered our thinking towards Smiths Beach, which like Moses Rocks has amazing friction so it didn’t matter if the rock was wet. Of course it was wet, although it was more because of the rough swell that was crashing at our feet. As we drove in the bay of Smiths Beach was full of people surfing, but many of them would feel confronted by standing were we were now:
Despite being the very same ocean that they were fully immersed in, I guess standing on the edge of where the waves hit land is probably the worst spot to be. As all the momentum is abruptly halted the direction the water takes somewhat unpredictable. Understandably, for many it would be a strange place to be able to operate in an anxiety-neutral state of mind. But it is well within my comfort zone, and to be honest I feel there isn’t much that nature can throw at me that would really worry me. Although that may be a statement that I have to retract in approx. five months:
We of course applied good safety practises being in such a location, although at the very start before we had even started climbing I was caught out and got drenched from head to toe. As I stood looking out across the bay I noticed the water dropping at the end of the zawn, as a clean wall of water came in. A sure sign that when the wave smashed into the rocks water would be sent high into the air and sure enough all over me. At times like this it is best to brace for what is coming rather than trying to run away from it, which due to the terrain would likely result in a fall and probably a more serious injury:
We notched up four of the great routes on Harbour Wall, which always avoids being directly hit by the waves due to the direction the swell takes as it enters the bay. Sarah got up the first two, but whether due to being physically or mentally exhausted she sat and watched the waves as we climbed. Then to allow her to get another climb in we left the zawn and headed to a small buttress on the headland high up above the water. It felt strangely quiet and calm here. Despite the easier angled rock and less intimidating situation, while having a go at the start of the first route here she had nothing left to give:
Rongy and I ran up the two short lines and called it a day. Normally it would be back to the car and time to head home, but today Sarah was keen to try a café in Busselton. And seeing that she was brave enough to give Smiths Beach a go, I agreed. Although in terms of comfort level I really don’t think the two compare. It was however an opportunity to see if Lisa wanted to pop out and join us for a bite to eat, which she was more than happy to do. It did feel strange when I finally got home not to feel like I did needed to grab a feed. Something I really should do after being out, but as Lisa will remind me it is something I don’t do often enough:
Sandbagged 