So, friends of the blog, old and new. Here we are again. They tell me that blogging isn’t really a thing any more, and I get it: it’s another thing for you to look at, yet another job to do, and of course you have to actually find blog amongst all of the things that are flashing through your algorithm. Will you even be able to notice me? (See me, notice me, adore me). I see that the pundits are all over Substack and that’s where I am now supposed to share my heart. The thing is, I feel like I might have hit peak saturation for learning new platforms, and this happened unfortunately before Substack came out. I mean sure, I dutifully created an account and all, but I don’t think I can learn one.more.thing. At least not in this general area. I am soothed by THIS familiar template and blog knows how to draw the words out of me. I heard that Neil Gamin writes longhand and transcribes his stuff, becoming his first edit, but I just got a handache from the pen and a headache trying to decipher my pretend-doctor’s writing. I read that Cormac McCarthy wrote on an Olivetti, so I had a little go of that, and even though a manual typewriter was where learnt to touch-type, pushing those keys down is hard with these fancy nails, plus, my accuracy is down these days (under 90% on a recent typing test) so that got tiresome very quickly. For a little while I tried the longer FB post thing, but it was a bit like those Bunnings-style fruit and veg shops littered around the suburbs in the late 80s: NQR.

So here we are.

I want to write you some things, and I hope you might read them. I’m just not sure how you will find me, because the Instabook algorithm sure as heck doesn’t like me taking you away from the scrollhole and over to another piece virtual realestate.

Perhaps if we are going to have a fling, you and I, you might have to send me a message of some sort, and tell me where we can meet up. Tell me how you found blog, let me know if we can have another date here, or if I really do need to pop on some lippy and get an uber over to Substack. Back in the day we used to get our blogalicious content delivered straight to our RSS feeds, but is that even a thing any more? If we are relying on socials to get us together, then I think we might be doomed before we even get to first base. So how are we gonna do this honey? I’ll wait for you to swipe.

Too fancy to type

Do you believe in magical thinking? I do. I know deep down that what we sing about, we bring about. And by that I mean: the things we love to think on, the things we give energy and good juju to, are the things we attract. Of course we have to add lots of fun and allow for time, but it seems to me, if we want things enough and are prepared to do the work for them, we very often get them.

And then there’s magical thinking.

I got thinking about magic a couple of days ago when I went into Unit Two’s garbage dump bedroom and noticed this picture by the gorgeous Kate Knapp on the wall. We got this for Coco when she was a little screamapillar, probably more for us that for her (she couldn’t read, after all) so we could think of a future for her that was more sunshine and unicorns than the one the medical staff were suggesting. Her bedroom these days is littered with half used lip gloss tubes and Minties wrappers, back then it was filled to the brim with life-affirming slogans and brain-enhancing paraphernalia. It’s been a long moment since I noticed this pic, with Saffy the skaterdog living large. Take a look: she’s wearing roller-skates. And guess what Coco’s fave activity outside of scroll-holes and hot-water-depleting-showers is? Yep, give the lady a prize, it’s rollerskating. Magic? Or coincidence?

Then there’s the vision boards I’ve created over the years. At one stage the kids told me to be careful what we put on them, because “everything on them comes true”. (Well duh, dummies; that’s the point). It think it was the day that I was putting a picture of a restaurant I wanted to go to, replete with food porn pic. The kids were going through what we shall call their “culinary white phase” so the rainbow of nutrients gave them palpitations. (Don’t worry kids, you were not invited any way.)

So I looked around at the other pics that adorn our walls: the painting of Nath and I staying true to our promises. The Leunig that reminds us to be where we are. and who we are and shut out the “next shiny thing” noise. The blackboard scrawl reminding us of how lucky we are. The little bookcase light that says, “Do things that matter” and helps me to shrug off the things that don’t.

There’s more of course: I’m a purpose gal- I don’t choose to collect things, ideas or people that don’t have significance to me, so it’s been fun to have a look at the things that our home is peppered with, and be reminded of how the magic can unfold. How affected we can be by slogans and ideas and pictures of the world we wish to inhabit.

This week I’ve been motivated to create some vision boards- one for the house upgrades we will be working on next, and another for my beautiful life over the next five years. I can already see some things lining up, simply by surrounding myself with the magic. Isn’t magic funny. It works even when you aren’t checking in on it.

Now the only concerning thing is this delightful little vision that Unit Two put on the ceiling above my bed a week or so again. Oh Cillian… why did they do this to you?

I’m sorry Cillian

I love a bit of woowoo. I have loved ‘pulling a card’ since Di Coleman introduced me to her little affirmation cards close to thirty years ago. I am not the type to put my life in the hands of the gods, but I do like to make meaning of things. So I like to pick a card and see where it makes my mind go, what connections I make, and whether or not I see it as relevant to me.

Today I had a little time, so I decided to use my cute little animal tarot cards to do a full Celtic Cross. It’s always fun to see what I think about the ‘problem’ I see myself in, once the cards give their opinion, and what will happen going forward, based on tiny pieces of cardboard. Would I make a major decision due to the presence or absence of the Dragonfly card? No. However sometimes having someone (card, person, meme) jump into my mind can solidify what I really think. Below the surface of the daily to-do list, the opinions of others, and the demands of running a business or two, it can be fun to take a moment and reflect on what is under the calm surface of a life.

So I dutifully laid my ten cards out, nodding along at some of the suggestions (and let’s face it- a card reading is only going to be as good as the person interpreting it) and tilting my head in curiosity at others. I always hold my breath a little when it comes to the last card in the cross, for it’s the the big enchilada: “The Most Likely Outcome.” (Ta-da). It’s the card where the curtain is pulled back and we get to see what the great and powerful Oz really looks like. Are we still in Kansas, Toto? Or are we about to land on some funky ol’ witch?

I sucked in my breath when I saw that my outcome card was from the Minor Arcana (damn) and the suit of Winter (double damn). I hate Winter in life and in cards. The Winter suit is always a bit sucky. Anyhow, it was too late to put it back in the pack in the hopes of getting a more auspicious card*. To add insult to psychological injury, it was a card with bloody birds on it. Winged-rats are my kryptonite.

I’m about to share with you what my most likely outcome card said, but I don’t think it was just for me. I think it might be for you too. I won’t type the whole thing out, but here are the Cliff Notes on it:

• It’s easy to convince yourself you’re trapped when you really aren’t.
• Being afraid of change can prevent you from having the vibrant, colourful life you’re dreaming of.
• Believe in yourself.
• Ask for help.
• And most of all the message is: “Escape the cage of your thoughts, sing your song, show your true colours, and know that you’re beautiful.”

So take this as your reminder this lovely day. It’s your permission to be wholly and fully you.

Go and “Fly my pretties! Fly.”**

*I may or may not do this sometimes if I don’t like a card.

**Don’t come at me. I’m referencing the original cut.. Or Mr.Burns, choose your poison.

PS That Em Rusciano vid is worth a watch. It’s a banger.

Shall we talk about something nice now?

The reason I blew the dust off the pages of this blog and decided to put fingers to keyboard again was because I felt like I wanted to add some value to the world. I have a busy bee of a brain, and I can move through a myriad of thoughts and feelings within a day, and I thought some of them could be of interest or use to you too. Lovely friends read my musings and tell me to write a book. Something longer and well constructed and more impactful, but I think we have to be honest here: I’m essentially a light-weight. Just as I love to talk a good talk about loving Veuve; two glasses and I’m pretty well gone. Samesies for personal development: I read all the books and do all the things, and then it comes to pass that all I really want to do is be like Cyndi says. Plus imagine an edit? No thanks. I’m too fragile to be told that I have to change something.

Funny, because just as I wrote that par above, a friend messaged me that I should take a look at Substack. Some kind of writing forum I guess. Mayhap I will. Or maybe I’ll just plod along doing what I do here with no real plan or goal other than looking after my mentals, amusing me, and possibly you.

So something nice:

I said I wouldn’t do any more grief posting, but I do have one more thing to add. I won’t tell you the whole story today- but suffice it to say, last year I won at a silent auction at a fundraiser in support of someone who’s life is entwined with mine. My bid won, which meant that we got to go to The Long Apron up in the hinterland for an amazing five course degustation and wine pairing. I’m not a winey, so I love it when someone does all the work and chooses the perfect blend. It’s always amazing to me at how certain flavours go together and can in fact change the entire dish. People are so clever.

But back to the Hinterland. As you can tell, I have some griefs going on: my kid has moved out, my cat got munched, and it’s winter, which is always a time for me to go internal and reflect. So being able to take some time out to go and stay up in the hills was an amazing privilege. Do you find that? Getting out of your own home can have huge benefits. It helps you to see things a little differently, and to come back home with new eyes. Added to that, the Sunshine Coast Hinterland is gorgeous. We have these little towns nestled into the cliff side, so there are views right back to the coast, and yet you are in another world. The shops are different, the restaurants are different, and the weather is different. On Sunday we drove home through actual fog, something I haven’t seen in about twenty five years.

I guess the point of today’s post is not to make you feel a certain kind of way, but to perhaps remind you to think a certain kind of way. To remember that your brain loves novelty almost as much as it loves familiar routine, and that by expanding that part of your mind; the curious, light-hearted, fun seeking part, you will allow yourself to step back into the routine with renewed energy, hope and gratitude.

It’s worth a try.

Views to the coast from Montville

PS Pop over to my insta if you want to see pics of the food, and a wine glass bigger than my pin-head.

A little Of Course

Lately I’ve been making the time (no, not finding the time- when I try to find it, it is endlessly elusive, I have to MAKE it) to do some simple things. Breathing (don’t laugh, I’m doing breathwork- it’s a thing), coaxing and stretching out my wound-up muscles, taking fifteen minutes to sit quietly in the sun, designing my day so that I can have twinkling candles lit and dinner on the way in time for sunset, so that I can sneak away for a moment and drink in the last moments of the day.

To my Nan and the generations before I suppose this sounds like nonsense. Of course we would do these things. Of course you need to breathe with your whole lungs to keep the recesses fresh and clean. Of course your body works better if it actually works a little. Of course sunshine helps you to grow in more ways than just making your legs tanned. Of course the best time of day is when the light is low, delicious food smells engulf you and your nest is full of people you love most. Of course.

Yet somehow, some days, in the bustle of the hustle it’s easy to forget and forgo these little of courses, in search of a new course. Perhaps it might be something as fabulous as a new book, a new bar, a new job, or a new restaurant. Or it could be something more benign- just the rushing about in the minutiae of life- taking kids hither and popping to the supermarket thither, grabbing this or that or the other in order to tick all the boxes and have all the things.

Don’t get me wrong- these comings and goings are what makes up a life. They are the things that give meaning to our years, so long as we actually take the time to make the meaning and the memory by accepting the present of the present. With our presence. So many opportunities to receive. It’s often said that our true power lies in our ability to receive, and so that is the lesson of the simple of courses that I’ve been indulging in.

They feel so deliciously indulgent, which tells me they are something that my mind and body craves- so much so that I wonder how I ever let them slide. Yesterday I went down the slide- we have one in our own backyard, so I can’t tell you one reasonable reason for NOT sliding more often. As I slid, my scalp remembered pigtails flying behind me as I hurtled down a slide as a four year old. My skin remembered the sweet burn, as bare legs touched hot metal of slides that had baked in the sun all day. My eyes remembered looking to the sweet line of the horizon as I flew high in the air at the end, and wondered if I would ever touch the ground again. But most of all, my heart remembered the thrill of all of the slides: fast ones, slow ones, twisty ones. Ones where I crashed into some kid who had stopped at the bottom, or fell off the end, tumbling on grass or sand. Ones where I hurt myself a little, and then ran back to the ladder for another turn anyway. And best of all, it remembered the ones with the heavy-vulnerable weight of my own children in my lap. Feeling them press their backs against my chest, feeling for my safe heartbeat as they learnt to love exhilaration.

Those slides were the best ones of all.

Of course.

…From The Ashers

Somedays you can rule the world, make new content, slay the day, hustle and flow and GSD. Other days you don’t. On the days that are other, it can feel like you’re wading through softened butter- too soft to slide over, and too sludgey to swim through. So you trudge along, with slips and falls and easier bits and then the dogged trudging again. You know that forward momentum is what you need, in fact it’s the only thing that will get you through the mire, but sometimes you just want to lay down and rest. The butter would probably feel nice, wouldn’t it?

Somedays you wake up with energy and verve, and other days you would rather just hide under the doona and wait for the day to pass without it asking anything of you. Which is fine if that other day is a Sunday with no commitments, but if it’s a work day, and a school day and a you have to be a Mum day, then someone is going to pull the doona back and find you at some stage, no matter how stealthily and silently you hide away.

If this is the someday that you feel inspired to do all of the things: yippee. Go do them.

If this is an other day for you, then this is your reminder that you don’t have to butter up or hide from the world: you are allowed to take the day. You don’t have to be productive and perfectly put together every day. You just have to be true to you. And the only way to know what you wants, and maybe even needs, is to take some time to ask yourself. To sit quietly and listen to the beat of your heart and see what song plays today. It might be different to the one you were secretly hoping to dance to, but just like when the Wedding DJ plays True Colours when you were hoping for She Bop (and who doesn’t love a good She Bop? *leery winky face*) you can still swing it if you let the rhythm flow.

So this is your permission to do whatever day you want. Dance if you like, sing if you’re in the mood, or just quietly enjoy the music.

Tomorrow’s song will be different.

…From The Ashers

PS Sorry if you just found out that your twelve year old self used to dance around the loungeroom to a song about solo female pleasure. But if you did: go you good thing. Bop on.