Taking my own advice

This post is absolutely inspired by a comment I left at the end of one of Sarah’s posts.

I always find it kinda baffling how I will be trundling along with my stucks and then I read a bunch of posts all talking about the same things or similar things.

Certainly things which have lateral relevance.

Lateral relevance….huh I like that. I don’t actually know if it makes sense but I like it.

A couple’a stucks…

I have a couple of stucks at the moment. One is a new stuck and one is a very old stuck.


The old stuck is about how I want to ride my bike more, to get super duper bike fit again and have fun.

Several things put me off:

  1. Is that I have no one to ride with. I don’t like riding alone, it makes pushing up the hills very boring and lonely when you don’t have anyone to complain about the hills to. It also means that I have no one to help me fix a puncture if I get one.
  2. I was super duper bike fit and then I got dumped by the person I used to have gazillions of fun with on a bike. Somehow this killed my desire to get out there.
  3. I’m really scared of riding with people I don’t know and trust completely. This is only because I am scared stiff they will think I’m a complete ninny and hate me for it.
  4. After being super duper bike fit and getting dumped I got really, really sick. I’m scared that if I get back on my bike in a big way again I’ll get sick again.
  5. But mostly, it’s that I don’t have anyone to ride with.


The new stuck is about starting to make things to sell.

  1. I’m scared that I won’t be able to do it.
  2. I’m scared that I’ll start and then fizzle out
  3. I’m scared that I’ll have to invest a lot of money that I don’t have to get it going and then it won’t get going.
  4. Mostly I’m scared that I’ll be rubbish and no one will want to buy my stuff.

The Need

Overriding both these things though is the need, not to talk to my stuck and see where they’re coming from because I know that bit already, but for reassurance and belief in myself.

The thing is, as soon as I really, really want something I find it near impossible to believe in myself.

So I avoid, delay and procrastinate till the cows come home.

I put a lot of effort into that avoidance, but I hate that I know that I’m avoiding and I hate that I feel so out of control of the avoidance.

I’d just like to put it to one side and do it already.

What I really need is someone to hold my hand.

Or several persons to hold my hand.

To say to me that yes I really can do this, in a gentle, compassionate kind of way rather than a cheerleading kind of way.

A Champion perhaps?

I’d like for someone to make it publically known that they champion me. Publically means to me by the way, not some big announcement on the internet or local news or anything so drastic.

I’d just like them to let me know and let me know more than once.

Not that it’s a good idea or that they can’t wait until I do my thing already, but that they believe that I can do it and that I will.

Or a Mascot even?

Or perhaps I need a mascot, who comes with me and champions me symbolically.

Who whispers in my ear, “Dude, you are like the most awesome person ever, you can totally do this. I promise, cos I know.”

Who can fit in my bag, or on my desk, or by my sewing machine, silently reminding me that I can do this?


The Turning Point

Stop. Turn.

Solstice – it is here again. Always, it is here.

So it seems apt, at the crux of the year as night turns to day, as the phoenix rises once again from its ashes, born again in the never ending cycle, to look over what has been one helluva year.

It has gone seeming in the blink of an eye and yet this year has been ram packed full of enough experience, emotion and most of all LIFE to last several years.

Looking Back

This time last year when I sat back and pondered what it was I wished to learn about in the one to follow I chanced upon love.

I had in my mind that love was one small thing.

A romantic endeavour which would bring me happiness and all those things defined so perfectly by Hollywood’s ideal.

In my mind, love had eluded me and with that elusion all my chances for happiness etcetera had eluded me too.

I set out to find it.

What I found instead was a lesson.

Never underestimate Love

What I have found is that Love is a big deal.

  1. It is everywhere.
  2. It is not defined by anything and it probably will not be contained by anything.
  3. Ever.
  4. It is a really big deal.

It is about how you see yourself.

It is available in infinite quantities, but how much you apportion yourself is entirely up to you and only you.

In this lies a challenge of mammoth proportions and indeed also power of mammoth proportions.

I have learned that I am really, really scared of this.

Before anything can ensue, first there is the challenge – Love Yourself.

I learned that expecting others to meet with my expectations of love is to give my power away to them.

I learned also that to do this was less frightening to me than taking responsibility for loving me.

When I realised that I could do all that I wanted another to do for me and more, for myself – I got a fright.

It is a lot of responsibility.

I realised why it is that I look to others to be responsible for my emotional welfare.

When you really, truly hold yourself accountable for your life, for your emotions, when you absolutely love yourself and know that first it is your responsibility to look after yourself you realise that there are no excuses.

That is a big deal.

Love, when it is not being dressed up in costumes and makeup or portrayed as the bringer of all things secret, holds you accountable to yourself for yourself.

Love, it turns out, has no business with sissies who like to go around crying, “Poor me.”

It is compassion and it has absolutely no tolerance for bullies (especially when you try to bully yourself), but it also asks tough questions when you are weeping and wailing about the poor deal the universe has heaped upon you.

Love turns your attention to the divine spark which is in each of us and it asks you to wake up and stop imagining that this divine spark is anywhere but inside you.

It tells you that you are the creator of your universe. The universe is not the creator of you.

It says, “Allow yourself happiness and success.”

It says, “Hello God/dess.”

Love reminds you that as the creator of your universe, creations do not happen with the click of a finger but through letting the passion you have live through you.

You put your energy into allowing yourself to be happy rather than trying to make others happy.

You put a step forward, you put the hours in, you plan, and you do because you love.

Love is unconditional – it is for everyone. Passion is not just for idealists and the lucky few.

If you love it – do it. Even if what it is you do is boring old Quantity Surveying.

Love asks difficult questions of you.

It asks why it is you are sitting there allowing the unhappiness.

It asks you why, as the creator of your universe, are you not doing something about it?

It asks gently, but it still asks and when it asks questions like this, it can get a bit uncomfortable because Love requires intimacy.

Intimacy with yourself and if you are not comfortable with this then Love is going to ask you to become so.

Love is a mirror which shows you in your brightest light and says, “Yes, this is you. Now. Always. Now believe it is so.”

‘Tis the season…. for assignments

It’s that time of year again when my life shuts down and I panic to get assignments in by their deadlines.

And it’s full of drama and hair tearing because Oh! Woe! Is! Me! Assignments! The whole world is out to Get! Me!

And it’s Christmas too, or rapidly approaching and normally I like to be baking up a storm, filling the house with cinnamon, gingery delicious smells whilst pretending to be some version of 1950’s perfect.

I loves it. It’s my baking fix. I remember my Granny and I spread cheer through butter filled treats and shortbread.

So I’m not doing that so much at the moment because of the dratted assignments.

I’ve also been very remiss about writing on here. Now you know.

Some realisations about how I’m working on this degree thing have been making themselves known and I shall endeavour to be kinder to myself and maybe do some of this work before it’s three days until hand in.

I will try. That’s as much as I’m committing to at the moment.

At the moment, because of all the panic, my feelings are in stasis.

Suspended amongst panic.

But is Christmas and hell, all my family are in Australia and I can’t be there, with my darling Pink Fish, Grahamski and Natbug, my marvellous mum and a gajillion cousins and aunts and uncles that I haven’t seen for waaaaay too long.

So when I put down the panic I want to cry.

Perhaps the panic does more than jolt me into action.

Perhaps it’s a useful mask for overwhelming feelings that I don’t want to feel right now.

And I’m sad because I didn’t get an invite to Christmas in Portugal when it was apparent that Australia was off the books, so when I did invite myself it was to find there was no room in the inn.

Or actually that nobody was going to be at the inn.

Otherwise I would have made do with the stable and the cows.

So I’m alone again for Christmas and I know it’s only one day.

But it is the one day that, until the last two years, consisted of vast quantities of family and love and laughter. And yes… whisky.

Which makes it special. (The family and love etc … okay fine! – and the whisky)

I’m contemplating how my Dad’s move to Portugal has really made me feel.

Initially it was huge quantities of rage and anger.

Which I tried really hard not be shoe like about and I’m not so sure I succeeded. Oooof.

But I know in myself the most true statement is that behind my anger always, always lies feelings I find harder to deal with – sadness, loss, grief and fear.

When my Pink Fish wrote about this she did so with an honesty that took my breath away and made me want to be as honest with myself.

What I’m feeling comes with a huge judgemental side serving, the biggest should not I can think of at the moment.

I’m jealous.

The one chance I had with all my family in the same country, the chance to build a relationship for the first time swept away by another person.

Another person, another country chosen over daughters.

I’m afraid to say that my fragile ego is finding it all rather hard to deal with along with the plain sadness at not having my dad around anymore.

He’s a short flight away and yet he feels further away than ever.

I’m finding that contemplating my Christmas with no family about me what so ever is bringing these feelings to the fore more than ever.

Most acutely I’m aware that this is my stuff to deal with. So I’m trying really hard not to pick up a shoe or two.

Boy would I ever like to find a way out of this.


*Comments: Oooh, I love comments. However, in light of the exceptionally personal and raw nature of this situation to me I would really appreciate an avoidance of shoulds or judgements. This is difficult stuff for me. That’s cool, we all have our stuff and we’re all working on it. This is one of the places I work on my stuff. Please, please be gentle.*

Unexpected Progress

Once upon a time…

Before I went away to India I was feeling almost desperate to find some focus somehow.

God, any old how would have been good.

So I asked an ask in the style of Havi’s very personal ads and then felt very frustrated because they just didn’t seem to be working.

Then I realised I was asking for things in all the wrong ways and so decided to get to the bones of my ask.

And promptly forgot about it.

Because when I am stressed out I have the attention span of a gold fish. Or the attention span that we all pretend a gold fish has, to add emphasis and oomph to our statements.

It’s a short attention span ok!

Where my attention went… it went on holiday!

My attention (for a short while) as all taken up by getting a diagnosis of Coeliac’s disease confirmed the day before I flew out to India.

Being told rather unceremoniously, over the telephone whilst in the cafe at University, knowing there was no way I’d be able to speak to anyone about it until my return from India was weird along with some other stuff.

Then of course, there was all of India to enjoy.

I was fully expecting to find my time in India spent deep in reflection, soul searching for my way forward in life and generally being miserable about having to come home and face facts.

But I didn’t, much to my great surprise.

Instead I frolicked about with my friends having an amazing holiday which somehow wasn’t marred by events which normally would have deeply unsettled me. (The Great Indian Swindle)

I felt more sure of myself than I have in a long time, and when it came to facing coming back home I discovered that I really didn’t mind it at all.

Surprised much? Me? Okay yes.

Being ninja’d by my very own brain. (WTF?! I asked. WTF indeed!)

I came back and thought that now I would need to be getting stressed and unhappy about things and desperately try to forge a path forward where no path seemed to want to go.

But that didn’t happen.

I kept calm and carried on.

Bemused but calm.

Slowly I was seeing inklings of something.

Somehow, in spite of a gloomy outlook things were going okay.

Just like a torch illuminates the path in front of you just, but leaves everything else deeply, inky black and full of noises that make you jump.

Just then a Googly monster jumped out the bush at me!…

All of a sudden a bunch of stuff just fell into place and BOOM! I knew what my thing was (the thing!) or rather my things (my things!) and I had focus and direction.

I knew that no matter what, I had to keep on my course that I was doubting so much. It doesn’t matter much how I get there, just that I do.

I’ve never felt so grounded in myself.

In finding my focus, I’ve found validation for myself within myself. Even though I gagged several times already typing that sentence. Gah.


Miss Havi, I have a bone to pick with you. Or perhaps some corn on the cob, since you don’t eat things with bones.

That’s one thing Ms Havi and her excessively cool duck haven’t told me about finding my thing (the thing!).

They appear to have kept it a secret that suddenly when you find your thing you do (you know the thing!) you suddenly know why you’re around and what you are going to do about it.

Bingo! Your being now has reason.

There’s a purpose to your Why? What? When?

Your soul wakes up and goes AH HA!

I mean, if I’d known that I probably would have looked a bit harder for what my thing was. Up until this point I just figured I was a bit of a misery with no thing of her own.

I suspect they have told me that when you find it, you do it because you have to, it’s your thing! to do, not so much because it will help other people or you or anything really as noble as that, but quite simply because it’s yours to do and it’s your thing.

Anyway, I’m slightly distracted now by the greatness of finding my things and I will get back to my point (if ever I had one).

Yup, so just in cases you didn’t click on the link above here’s what I asked for:

I would like to know that I am safe.

I would like to know that I am supported.

I would like to know that I have a direction.

Umm, yeah… It’s pretty humbling isn’t it?

(oh yeah, I’m going to keep my thing under wraps for a while though until I’m ready to whip away the velvet cover and shout TA DA! to all the world. But I will shout TA DA! I promise.)