Telling myself over and over to "get up!", to build higher and do more and be audacious. Yet here I stand. Waves crash around my feet and the shifting sands give me the illusion that the world is moving and changing and I can actually feel it turn on it's axis. But it is an illusion. Its a beautiful illusion; it keeps me planted here in this spot. The world is turning but I'm just standing still letting it continue forward, to keep going, to evolve in the way that I cannot. 

I dream in vivid colour, in excruciating detail. The world in my head threatens to overwhelm the world occurring around me. I interact with the former more than the latter. I participate. I create. I live. And then I wake and I stand still and I watch. I write, but the words stay shut in the book and never see the light again. 

Where do forgotten memories go?

I suppose they can no longer go by that title, as 'memory' implies that it might be recalled.

We can look only in one direction of time. Which is kind of odd really.

earth

Tom is using google earth for Uni, but I'm just looking for interesting views from above. All of these are within an hour or so from where I live. Madness.

words and getting older

I feel like I've lost my way in regards to this blog. What was it that I hoped to achieve from this space? I've almost forgotten.

A small part of me always grieves for that girl. So young, she could never know how truly young she was. And though that time of crippling loneliness passed in what now feels like a blink of an eye, those months will feel like an eternity to her. How I wish to sit with her in that beautiful sanctuary that felt so many miles from the ugliness of the world. I would tell her tales of a wonderful life since her demise. But she is gone. Time has stolen her away from me and I will never be able to tell her how truly magnificent she really was.

I haven't been blogging much lately, things have been just slightly askew. I could not figure out what was missing, but something was off. It turned out to be more than just a little something. Purple and green are the colours of the aliens I used to draw as a child. How strange it is that as an adult I must take pills of those colours every day. This past week has shown me that my need for them has not waned. Not yet. I must be more diligent. I must be more responsible with my most precious of organs. I had forgotten that sadness. How did it not occur to me that my constant headaches might be a cry for help, for those synthetic hormones that keep me balanced. It can be hard to find joy when all you feel is pain. I cried to Tom today "it hurts so much" and he thought I referred to my head, but it is life that causes the most pain.

that's outrageous

We went to a great party on Friday night creatively themed "That's Outrageous". We drank a myriad of home-made flavoured spirits (including nutella!) and home-brewed beer & cider that were in dangerously endless supply. I chased a cat dressed as a dragon. It didn't like me very much. A joyous evening was had by all.

secrets and solitude

Here's a little something I wrote a long time ago. Time passes and she feels like an old lost friend, but this is a story about myself.



"I just think we should distance ourselves from her." She took a considered sip of her cappuccino, careful not to tamper with the perfect froth sitting on top, placed the cup back on it's saucer and turned to the group. "What do you think?" She was not looking for a consensus, rather daring someone to object.

And so it was that I lost every friend I had made at school, without my even knowing. 

I was seventeen years old when I suffered the worst of my bullying. The teasing of my Primary years proved to be nothing when I later encountered the ripple effect of a simple say-so from the leader of a crowd. 

I returned daily to the cafe where my ostracism was decided. It was a beautiful place to sit quietly. In the middle of the most commercial and plastic part of the city I had found a sanctuary. This place was a storey above the noise of it's surrounding shopping Mecca. High ceilings and white walls lined with furniture and an endless supply of caffeine and cake. I would nurse the same coffee for hours with a notebook balanced on my knee and a watchful eye looking out for those I still foolishly believed friends. I was not there for myself, I was there in the hope that I might bring back the days I had only glimpsed, of a friendship forged over coffee cups and ashtrays on a balcony above the hubbub of the city. Hindsight proves that a wide berth had been forged around this shop in the daily activities of these former friends. My presence rendered their once-regular a no-go zone. But I wasn't to learn of this for many months yet, and thus I created my new lonely home with company, not solitude, in mind. 

"I collect people." She nodded to the surrounding group of contrived eccentrics. "I have an artist friend, an actor, a singer, a couple of  dancers and now," she had looked to me, "I will have a writer." She rattled off the list like a proud mother, as if their creative achievements might in some way be attributed to her. Perhaps she wished herself their muse. Perhaps she was just like me, trying to prove to herself that she had value. 

so that I might remember

We created a world of brightly coloured fabric, but it was a world that could never survive. Imaginary worlds always fall to reality in the end. I want to remember the reality as well as I remember those hours under the dim light tinged with the green of my scarf.

As a much younger girl, I wrote about a lion-hearted girl.
When all of this is over, I want to remember this period without the romanticism that accompanies time passed. I want to remember these days, these lonely hours, because these days have been challenging in ways that I know will fade from memory so quickly that they mightn't ever have been. When all of these challenging and exciting and inspiring and exhausting days culminate into that one piece of paper, it will be worth it. It will be worth remembering. All of that time and love and patience and stress and passion and so so many other vital ingredients.

I know I will forget because I'm already forgetting.

I've been running from the silence. Filling that void with made-up stories and the voices of strangers. Have I forgotten to be alone?

That's Outrageous! (the theme of this particular event)

Somehow I find that I only write about the simple day-to-day pleasures that I enjoy. I suppose those are the ones that so often pass by unnoticed that it seems a shame to me to let them slip by without recognition. But there are joys that come by only when planned or created and I've been letting them slip by without recognition. So I'll attempt to even the playing field, and I'll start with the party we went to on Friday night.

Because the simple little things are great, but sometimes you just want to party.

This particular sharehouse always throws the best parties, but somehow I never share them here. I've attended at least three of theirs since I've been blogging, and all of them have been wild & raucous evenings. Probably because they're always followed by a mighty hangover induced by the never-ending supply of crazy-flavoured home-made infused spirits and home-brewed beer & cider.

A small selection taken late into the night. And yes, that is Nutella flavoured alcohol. And yes, it was incredible.

It was a great night. I promise to write a proper post very soon. x

wednesday weekenders

Tom was at Uni for at least ten hours a day for the whole (long) weekend, so we gave ourselves a mini weekend together yesterday. Just what the doctor ordered.

Tom made banana pancakes for breakfast with homemade butter. I made the butter out of necessity due to our having cream (useless) but no butter (useful) in the house, but it's so much lovelier than the stuff we get at the supermarket. We built a fort in the living room and watched a couple of episodes of David Attenborough's Africa (because he's Tom's idol) and Bee Movie (because kids films are the best). For lunch we made mini burgers & shoestring fries with the mandolin dad sent us as a surprise. It's my new favourite toy. I want to slice things all. the. time. 

It was the perfect day. Full of cuddles and laughter and time out in our silly little fort.

 Tom, I love you so much. I love us so much.

running, yoga and setting goals for yourself

I've always placed precedence on nurturing yourself, and I've spoken about self kindness a number of times before. Something I'm only beginning to understand, though, is the power of pushing yourself also. The body is a truly powerful instrument, capable of much more than we realise or expect. I have heard this so many times from so many people, but this notion has only begun to resonate with me since I have started running.

Tom pushed me to run early in the year, but when I broke my toe I was off my feet for six weeks and even then I didn't run for another month. It took me a lot of persuading to get off the couch and hit the pavement and then I'd run until the lactic acid started pumping and walk for the remainder of the half hour. Basically I was running in two minute blocks. But one day I ran through that pain and realised that on the other side of it was the 'zone' that everyone talks about. I hit a rhythm and ran for a full ten minutes that day, easily three or four times that of the day before.

Now I think I get it. Last night I ran for almost two kilometres. Before this year I'd never run more than 200m at a time. Seriously. I have never been physically fit in my life. I used to play sick to get out of PE class, or else walk behind the rest of the class as they ran the oval. I had no desire or interest or belief in myself to even attempt to keep up or push myself. So running for twenty minutes straight, as slow as I might be going, is a HUGE achievement for me and I am appropriately excited and proud.

# ways to cheer yourself up when nothing is really wrong

You know those days where you feel kind of blue but there really is no obvious cause. It's not so bad, you just need a pick-me-up to remember who you are and what makes you happy.

1. do something nostalgic

# simple ways to be kind to yourself

001. 

lklklkl

002. wake up earlier

I know, I know. 

003.

004. List three things 

new habits for a new month

I've been meaning to write my usual monthly 'looking back & looking forward' post, but I don't think the format is really working for me any more. Originally the idea was to look at the last month, what I enjoyed, what I did well and what I'd like to improve and to then move mindfully into the next month. This is not, however, what the series has become for me. It's a burden rather than a pleasure and is not promoting mindfulness.

I've decided, therefore, to start each new month with an intention, a focus around which I will create and maintain new habits that will enrich my life. And for this month...?

In June, my focus is to document simple day-to-day joys

This month I want to focus on the way I look at the world. I've fallen into a trap in recent weeks of allowing the negative to overwhelm the positive, to see stress and fear and overlook the simple joys. Just before I lost my job, I ordered a bulk lot ten rolls of film with the intention of getting back into the habit of taking analogue shots as well as digital ones. I miss the simplicity of film and the value of each shot. Digital allows you to take thirty crappy shots of the same thing whereas film demands you take time to be mindful of the lighting and the framing of each picture. When the package arrived today, I knew exactly how I needed to proceed. What film photography represents to me is a way of seeing the beauty in the world.

This month I want to relearn how to see. To take notice of simple joys, I've decided I'll need to do a few simple things:

001. write daily
002. take more photos
003. be grateful

I'm going to write three longhand pages every night, take a roll of carefully curated shots throughout the month and list three different things every day for which I am grateful.

I'll keep you posted.

lazy morning links

It's been a while since I posted one of these. I had wanted the series to be weekly, but I'm going to post them fortnightly from now on so that the links are all worthwhile. It was becoming difficult to fill a post with links I'd actually recommend highly enough to be a good read for a lazy Saturday morning, and I'd rather give you great links less frequently than give you filler links every week.

True Story: My Father is a Pedophile

all that glitters

I'm on a bit of a gold kick at the moment. My love for gold has grown and grown in recent years. I love the warmth that gold can bring to a space or an outfit. I've been thinking about how to incorporate more of it into our home decor, but with no job to speak of at the moment I find I have a little extra time to undertake diy projects but nothing to fund them with.

Here's a a few achievable gold-themed projects I've discovered through Pinterest. It's nice to remember that even though we don't all have infinite time and energy we can still undertake some great projects to improve our space or give more thoughtfully to others.

gold leaf terracotta pots

I love how the gold looks with the natural patina of the terracotta.

gold-dipped feathers

A simple way to make a statement. Display them in a bunch like in the photo or hang them as a garland. 

DIY metallic sack from A Daily Something

These are really just paper bags spray painted gold - but how great do they look? So simple and cheap, but such a big impact - these would be a great way to store those things that never find a proper home.


For more inspiration, check out my Make and Give pinterest boards.

bringing the outdoors in

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How does your garden grow?

Otherwise known as: tales of a nosy neighbour

It's incredible that anything grows in our garden when our nosy neighbour insists on ripping everything up when we're not looking. These onion-like bulbs shoot up every winter and bloom with tiny white flowers. They're cute enough, they're not weeds, and Tom & I would prefer them to a patch of soil. Nosy Neighbour, however, likes a tidy garden (no matter whose garden it is, apparently) and spends many hours imposing that upon us. She rips these out of the ground and then wanders around to our backyard to use our green bin.

No, she does not own half of the garden. No, we never asked her to wander around in our private yard. Yes, she thinks she's doing us a favour so it's difficult to ask her to leave us alone.

Our landlords happen to be Tom's parents, and they're not too fond of Nosy Neighbour either. She has a very obnoxious habit of telling us all off for our approach to the gardening. We're a bit more laid back than the original garden allowed, as it was designed for the hills or Melbourne, but certainly not the 'driest state on the driest continent in the world'. So we've let some things die and planted some other things and given up on the maintenance of a cottage garden that simply cannot thrive without tripling the water bill. And perhaps she finds that disappointing because it was a beautiful garden, but it was also the sole love and project of the lady who lived here before us.

Well, last week she pulled out my passionfruit plant. Just because she does not recognise it doesn't mean its a weed! I was looking forward to passionfruits in summer! I've started to think that this has gone on long enough, we need to reclaim our space.

Any suggestions for dealing with this?

morning pages and other great habits

It is so easy to let habits go by the wayside, even when you know how greatly they benefit you and the way you approach life and the world and the challenges within. A habit I have allowed to become a rarity rather than a ritual is that of Morning Pages.

There is nothing I have found so freeing as relinquishing my struggles and fears and joys and gratitude to ink and paper, but I have found it hard to want to sit quietly with my thoughts for half an hour when I could instead sit with Tom and a cup of tea. There are only so many hours in the day, and instead of looking at how I spend my time and adjusting to allow for all those things I so greatly love and benefit from, I simply chose one instead of the other. I made Morning Pages a rare task usually assigned to a boring bus ride or a particularly difficult interaction I need to get off my chest. Morning Pages became a bandaid for times in need and overlooked when I didn't feel too greatly overwhelmed.

Tom, who has noticed his need for more mindfulness and greater self-care throughout this past year of changes and stresses, was instantly drawn to these ideas. I am consistently surprised by his desire to create better habits and be more mindful of his approach to stress and also to joy. We are more alike in some ways than I could have ever predicted.

He was drawn to the first of the five most particularly, I think, because it was so outside of his norm. I write constantly and always use it as a tool to process my thoughts when my mind seems to be teeming with many. We agreed to sit every night and write freely for three sides of paper. I was really pleased to be getting back into daily free writing and to have someone to hold me accountable, he was interested in the experiment, as is his nature, and wanted to see for himself if this process holds any weight to your wellbeing and general happiness. I think he was surprised.  

looking back & looking forward | May & June

Back: May

May was a tough month, but it showed me how much love I have in my life. Tom & I are truly lucky to  have such supportive families. I am so grateful that I've been so accepted into Tom's family from the very beginning of our relationship. I am grateful to have friendships with my parents, because sometimes it's not parenting that you need, it's a good friend to talk to. 

finally.

The assignment we thought would never end finally has. Even his thesis cannot compare to this ridiculously involved and time-consuming waste of twelve thousand words. (Most of which I had to type as he dictated. I honestly have no idea how he has made it through two degrees as a two-finger typer.)



Last night we drank wine, watched Game of Thrones and basked in the relief of some stress-free time together. Tom bailed on a game of Scrabble claiming that his brain was fried from the assignment, but we all know it's because I was wiping the floor with him. I finished the game against myself and he watched and teased me for being such a dork for enjoying having such an equally matched opponent for once.

We both agreed that we should instigate a new rule wherein all computers are off by nine and we spend time actually together and free from silly distractions every night before we head to bed. I'm not entirely sure that we're better off being so constantly connected and contactable. It's far too easy now to be in two places at once. We need to switch off more in order to be present. I do think that part of the reason life gets overwhelming at times is that it is non-stop - you can take work and study and every other stupid distraction with you. It's worth making the effort to step back from all of that and be mindful. An evening ritual that does not include checking emails and RSS feeds and googling the ridiculous questions I don't immediately need to know the answer to is a good place to start, I think.

One of the most important things that has come out of the last few trying weeks is an awareness of what matters the most and what makes the most difference to my overall happiness.

Flash mobbin' (as you do)

You might remember that back in April I was part of a flashmob with Reproductive Choice Australia. Well, here's the video I promised. I'm the one in lace leggings and green boots, and that sexy blonde beside me is my wonderful mother. I had a lot of fun jiving with mum for a cause I support.

Lazy Morning Links

Tom has been using my computer for the assignment that WILL NEVER END. So even though I haven't managed to post all that much, I've read some great things on my iPad over the last couple of weeks.

a manifesto for mindful living

I'm tired of being so negative. The image I posted alongside my last outpour of despair was more telling than I even realised at the time. I destroy myself. No one and nothing is trying to destroy me. Life is just happening, and I am choosing to destroy myself with fear and anguish over setbacks and disappointments rather than to thrive in the face of these challenges. The grass is greener where you water it. 

So I wrote a list of things that I only ever find myself doing when the grass is looking a glorious green, things I want to remember to keep doing even when the impulse does not come quite so naturally. It turned into a manifesto for living mindfully, for living fully.

The world looks a whole lot brighter when I remind myself of the influence I have over the way I see things.