{"id":111329,"date":"2017-01-05T07:49:24","date_gmt":"2017-01-05T15:49:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=111329"},"modified":"2017-01-05T09:58:54","modified_gmt":"2017-01-05T17:58:54","slug":"i-still-call-australia-home-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lukeford.net\/blog\/?p=111329","title":{"rendered":"I Still Call Australia Home"},"content":{"rendered":"

I was working an office job and playing this collection<\/a> of Australian folk songs over and over until I had tears in my eyes. The Peter Allen song, “I Still Call Australia Home,” killed me, particularly this stanza:<\/p>\n

Someday we’ll all be together once more
\nWhen all of the ships come back to the shore
\nI realise something I’ve always known
\nI still call Australia home<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

As I age, I get more nostalgic. I’ve led a fractured life all over the planet so hearing the words, “Someday we’ll all be together once more” touches on my yearning for healing, wholeness and reconciliation. I remember or imagine times in my childhood when I felt connected with family and friends and I yearn for that again. When I converted to Orthodox Judaism, to an extent, I cut myself off from my previous life (I lost many childhood friends, they felt that by choosing another religion, I was saying that their choices were wrong). I was born again. I was an orphan (from the standpoint of Jewish law, a convert doesn’t say kaddish or yizkor for his gentile parents and family). <\/p>\n

Ironically, much of what inspired my conversion was my desire to connect, and yet my self-defeating and isolating habits get in my way over and over. <\/p>\n