Luminosity

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Last night, we went to Luminosity at Australian Technology Park. It had been a rough week  on many levels, and I dragged my aching bones out of bed to get ready. There was no way I was going to miss an event run by Endometriosis Australia. This wretched disease has taken so much from my life. My battle is over after a vicious ten-year fight from the time of diagnosis until I went into premature menopause. My fervent wish is that our girls don’t suffer as we did. My daughter and I walked into a foyer bustling with activity, yellow balloons and friendly faces.  I caught up with a dear friend, Naomi, who had been an inspiration to me  before I started my IVF journey. We embraced, and it was felt on a cellular level. I will never forget visiting her after she had yet another surgery at RPA, a lady of dignity, reclining in a chair and smiling in spite of her pain. It was the first time we had met in person. I met the marvellous Donna, who had also organized the Luminosity event in Melbourne on the 7th March. The volunteers were all awe-inspiring.

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I sampled the most delicious raw food, and we got our fluoro paint on. I made  friends with women who shared their endo journey’s and we swapped numbers at night’s end. My daughter chased boys around, and put me to shame with her hula-hooping.
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We entered the main room engorged with music and neon lights, and I basked in the glow of over a hundred people who have been affected by this disease. They were glowing for real! Some had endured twenty years of agony, had their bowels resected, had been on  a litany of powerful medications, had been burnt, lasered, cut open and had IVF. They were heroines at Luminosity. We watched amazing performances, even an acro-yoga display. With a fused spine, I wasn’t bendy, but I loved the stretches. I loved feeling a part of my body, at one with it. A body which had harboured disease the size of oranges, and had the consistency of elastic bands.My daughter thanked me for the lovely girl’s night she had experienced. I promise you, little one, that if your tummy aches when you are older, I will be watching. I will get you the best help. I pray I don’t have to. To find out more about endometriosis, or to donate either time or money, go to Endometriosis Australia.

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Joy in Another’s Happiness

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This little girl ran into the bathroom yesterday morning, anxious to tell me some important news. I was half-asleep, and worried by how animated she was. Was something wrong? “Mummy! Exciting news! The Today show rang a lady and she answered and won $30,000! She’s a single mum and needed a new washing machine and vacuum cleaner! She can’t work anymore ’cause she hurt her shoulder. I am so happy for her! Isn’t that the best news?!” I hugged her so tight. It was indeed the best news, not only for that lady, but also for this one. My child has a beautiful heart. She understands that when one of us wins, we all do.

Sharing Blogs!

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The wondrous Nerd in the Brain has started a blog party, and I thought it was a lovely idea! Put a link to a recent post on your blog in the comments, so we can all come and enjoy your writing!

You Sent Butterflies.

IMG_6205 Serena, I remember when you won the pair of purple boots. You were so thrilled. You used to win everything you entered, though in the end, you lost your life. You had an eventful life, and some parts of it were bitterly unfair. You found comfort in butterflies. They were your totem, fluttering about  whenever we walked or sat at the park. I  gave you a purple butterfly mobile on your last birthday.

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Every year we did the Challenge Walk together, me complaining as we reached the peak which held a painted blue tree. Dead, yet alive. You would laugh, and point to the wrong flag, convincing me that I had done more km’s than I had. I fell for it every time. 2014 was to be our last year together on the walk. If I had known that, I would have hugged you tighter upon meeting, shouted you lunch afterward and organized a band. This year, one of our beautiful friend’s and her girls joined us. We acutely felt your absence, and I kept looking for you. So many  women with cedar hair looked like you from the back. The girls and I chatted, and we laughed. We fell silent and then talk turned to you. We were followed by butterflies the whole 6km’s. I wanted to cry, and scream at the unfairness of a young woman leaving this earth halfway through her life. I did so inside my mind; silently, respectfully. As long as butterflies remain in the world, so shall you. I anticipate bumping into you wherever I go. Instead, I am surrounded by butterflies and memories. I signed up for 12km’s by accident. You would have found that hysterically funny. When the time came to continue on, or pull out, I hid my registration details under the bag I was carrying, so I wouldn’t be forced to go around again. I had seen my butterflies and that was enough.

We came home and put our blingy slippers on.
We came home and put our blingy slippers on.

Stained Glass Wolves

 

Stained Glass Wolves
Stained Glass Wolves

In my travels, I met an extraordinary young lady called Celia. She started Stained Glass Wolves on Facebook. It is for ‘victims and survivors of abuse, homelessness, domestic violence and the people who support them.’ There are two projects on the hop at the moment, Basic Love Packs and Knitting to Spread the Love and Warmth. The mascot is  The Mistress of Awesomeness and she certainly is! Apart from everything else she does, she is also a singer-songwriter.

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Celia is 28, and lives in Sydney. She is currently an AIN, working in a nursing home, and is also studying nursing at university. She believes in true equality, love, loyalty, compassion,truth, genuineness, dignity and justice. She has three specific missions in life:
1. To run her charity, Stained Glass Wolves, and reach out to the broken.
2. To sing and write.
3. To be a qualified nurse educator specialising in brain trauma and also making specific care plans for individuals; working with families, carer’s and the client to make a manageable plan to give that person the best quality of life.

Celia has qualifications in mechanics, and in the hospitality industry. There is nothing she can’t do, teaching herself to knit via YouTube. As a child, she was abused in every way a young girl can be, and was told that she was worthless. She refused to believe it. How she healed, and what she has done, are truly inspirational.  She has suffered depression, nightmares and flashbacks, but miraculously survived. The heart seared with great suffering often becomes the heart with the greatest capacity for love and compassion. Nobody came and rescued her from the thatch of thorns where she lay. She retrieved herself.

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She found her calling in nursing after encountering a 104 year old lady in a nursing home who inspired her. She applied to study, and a letter arrived from the ACU. She reluctantly opened it, thinking it was a rejection letter. They instead wanted to know why she hadn’t accepted her placement. She checked her spam, and there was an acceptance email! Check your spam, people! At university, she noticed there was a scheme, offering placement overseas to the student with the highest mark. She applied and was accepted! She went to Cambodia, volunteering in health camps, and also travelled to Georgia College in Atlanta. Like I said, inspiring. She is the rainbow after  the darkness dissipates. A survivor in every sense. If you would like to learn more, visit Stained Glass Wolves.

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Summer didn’t want to let go.

These two became mums!
These two became mums!

After a particular mum (not mentioning any names), mistook boy guinea pigs for girls, two ladies became mums!  My daughter is an adoring aunt, whereas I am apparently a grandma! Nine little ones in all.
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Homeschooling is amazing! Munchkin is progressing extremely well, and has a passion for learning that is an honour to witness.
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We went to the library the other day, and she read a chapter of her book all by herself. She was excited, and I was overjoyed. This particular book is from her I Can Read program, and has codes at the top of each sentence, so she can easily decipher the words. Afterward, we went past a factory seconds store, and found a beautiful guitar. It is the right length for a child, and in her favourite colour! It was cheap, and the fellow said he could re-string it for my left-hander. I felt privileged to witness her excitement. She is learning guitar, and has often said that she didn’t mind not having her own. She rarely asks for anything, so this guitar shall be valued.

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Saturday night, went to The Sound of Music Sing-A-Long at the State Theatre in Sydney. It was particularly special as it is the 50th anniversary of the movie this year, and I got to dress up as a nun! We happened to bump into a teacher from my daughter’s former school. This lady has inspired my child in so many ways, instilling  a belief in herself and to think outside the box. For that, I shall love her forever. We became friends on the playground, and I am sure Mrs Z shall always be in our lives. You never forget the teacher that goes above and beyond. I find it quite moving, especially as Lizzie was never in her class.

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Sunday, I went to Catalina for a friend’s birthday. This lady doesn’t usually celebrate her birthday, so this was special. It was a lesson to me that you are worth celebrating, and that life is far too precious and short not to gather friends. 10985543_924478147586031_8814010349597699618_nIt was the first day of Autumn in Sydney, but the sun beat down mercilessly, pushing the temp up to the high 30’s. Summer stubbornly refused to release its grip. My daughter found these gorgeous floral displays abandoned around the side of the restaurant, and after gathering a few blooms for herself, we delighted in watching parents pick their children a flower or two.

IMG_6155As we left the city, the storm clouds gathered, and  a torrent of raindrops thumped to the ground.  The last grand summer storm before autumn colours  the landscape in crimson and rusty hues. There are challenges, for myself and my loved ones, but when isn’t there? All we can do is stick together, embrace and love, and eat good food and ride it out. Winter is coming, but then, so is spring.

Blogger Spotlight.

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I am honoured to be featured in Anastasia Amour’s Blogger Spotlight for February. If you haven’t checked out her blog as yet, you are missing something special. This young woman is highlighting what it means to have self-esteem, and encourages her readers to stop listening to the negative voices in their heads. She has become a dear friend, and I love her dearly.

It’s okay to stuff up!

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This term has seen us hit the ground running. I thought I was on top of things, planning the weeks in advance in my diary and calendar. Attempting to sort through email. However, when more assignments come in, and appointments are running late, it all goes to hell. I noticed I had a heap of unanswered messages in my ‘Others’ folder on Facebook. Some were important, and not just from yucky old men who thought I was “lovely.” I no sooner had handled these unexpected messages, than the email box filled up, then Twitter, then Pinterest, then Facebook… I felt like Lucille Ball at her chocolate factory gig.

Getting through one task, then something else demands your time and energy. I still held onto the fantasy that I had it all under control. My endocrinologist advised that I need to slow down, and spend an hour each day exercising. I need to take preventative measures for my health. It all sounded great, and heck, my doctor said I could stop once in a while. It was prescribed.

That was until I discovered I had lost a whole day! I thought it was the 2nd Feb, when it was actually the 3rd! “You are only a day late,” a snooty receptionist snarled when I ventured into my appointment. Crap! I had missed a whole bunch of things. I glanced at my phone. On top of the 500 emails waiting to be read was one notifying me that an old friend had passed away. I teared up, and my daughter hugged me. “Just because you lost a day this time, doesn’t mean you will do it again,” she consoled. “You just need to prioritize and think about what is important in your day.” Such wise words. How did she get so mature and clever? She is right. I feel like I can’t stay on top of everything, no matter how much I try. I want to be a terrific friend, a fabulous mother, a consistent writer and respond to all messages swiftly. It is entirely unrealistic though. I can only do my best. We can only do our best. I believe intention is most powerful. My friends know that they are loved and will wait for me. My daughter adores her eccentric mother…

My friend Russell was a curmudgeonly former newspaper editor. We had some great times throughout the years. He was of an older age when he passed, but gee those years of life still zoomed by. My daughter is right (as is my endocrinologist). Slow down, breathe, walk and prioritize. Even it means losing a whole day now and again. The appointments were rescheduled. I was forgiven, and it wasn’t the end of the world.

Gnome Conventions and Life.

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Can you believe that we are in February? January leans in, digging its elbow into the tender parts of our psyche. People struggle with big issues. Finances are depleted after Christmas, relationships are in turmoil, people you love are in pain. At the same time, you are attempting to plot the year ahead, and work ramps up for another year. January can be pressurised. What do you do to escape? We went to Casula Powerhouse to see the Mind the Gap exhibition.

Mind the Gap
Mind the Gap

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A wondrous affair, resplendent with model trains grafted into sculpture.
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I felt my hair, barreling down my shoulders, tired and splintered. I sought reparation. I usually do a haphazard job of trimming it myself, but as I had pledged to take better care of myself this year, I had it done at an actual hairdresser.

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I had a fortnight of no sleep, due to my bulging spinal discs. I lay awake with a pillow between my legs, my hands attempting to force the discs back into place. I tried to rest, my back brace tightly bound around my spine. It was hard, particularly when life demanded that I partake during the daytime. On Australia Day, I went to the annual Gnome Convention at Glenbrook. I had to go. If one can’t find escape from one’s pain at such a do, then I don’t know where one can!
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Feeling entirely restored, I celebrated my birthday. Now birthdays have always been a weird dark night of the soul for me. Melancholy, renewal, taking stock and everything in between. I ran away to Sydney with my daughter. We looked around, rode on public transport, and came home to a glorious delivery of flowers.

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Friends took me out for lunch in the coming days, and I was humbled by their thoughtfulness. I was driven to a birthday dinner last weekend and had a lovely time. It was an occasion where you imbibe with good wine and company, and can be silly and free.

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Another friend had a party, Superhero themed. I adore this lady. So far, we have celebrated space, feet, the first letter of our name, and now heroes. I was the Queen of the Rainbow.

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I also confronted a park containing many memories of Serena. The number of times we have sat at the seats below, watching the children play and drinking coffee… I expected her to come along at any moment. There were tears, and my little girl hugged me. She knew. She felt it too. After the sorrow, we smiled, recollecting the parties, festivals and many joyous times we had experienced there. At the end that is what remained. Above all the strife in January, that is what we shall hold onto.
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Johnny Nothing-Ian Probert

Johnny Nothing Author, Ian Probert
Johnny Nothing Author, Ian Probert

I have had the pleasure of making a new friend in the form of UK author, Ian Probert. He has recently published his latest book, Johnny Nothing, a rollicking, enthralling book for ages ten and up (mind you, my eight year old daughter absolutely loved it, and was doubled over from laughing in parts)! It is reminiscent of Roald Dahl, and about the poorest boy in the world, who has the nastiest mother in the universe. It is available on ITunes and Amazon. When did you make the decision to become a writer? “I never really decided to be a writer as such. It was a gradual process. At school I was good at Art and English. I used to fill up exercise books with stories about vampires. It must have driven my English teacher to drink. I come from a working class family and becoming a writer was never really an option. After failing most of my exams at school I went from one dead-end job to another. I was a draughtsman, a waiter, a landscape gardener. I worked in  KFC, in motorway service stations, telephone sales, in clothes shops. I was pretty aimless until I managed to get into art college to study painting.It was there that I started keeping a diary and discovered that I could write reasonably legibly. After art college, I managed to blag my way into a job at a newspaper. Somehow, they employed me as a sports writer. After that, I actually ended up editing sports magazines. My articles got longer and longer until it occurred to me that I ought to try my hand at writing books. I was very lucky. I got an agent almost instantly. A publishing deal followed soon after. I was rather blasé about it. In retrospect I didn’t realize how fortunate I was. As you know, it’s very difficult to get an agent to even look at anything you’ve written, and its even harder to get a traditional publishing deal.” Where did the inspiration for Johnny Nothing come from? “It’s a long story, the tale behind its birth. Basically, I was ill for almost 15 years without being really aware of it. I had Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. It’s not exactly an uncommon condition, but can have catastrophic consequences for your life. I did this article for the Guardian on the illness. The end result of this was that I lost my ability to concentrate. I didn’t have anything published for more than a decade. I tried writing things, of course, but would always give up after a chapter or two. I thought I was getting old or something! When I was diagnosed and given drugs to combat the condition, I got the proverbial burst of energy. I wrote a lot of things very quickly indeed. Johnny Nothing was written for my ten-year old daughter. I think it was to prove to her that I could actually write. For years she had been hearing me drone on about how I used to be a published writer. I wanted to give her something that would make her proud of me.” What are you planning next? “I always think it’s a little reckless to tell people what you’re writing. The problem is that one can be really excited about a new project and bore family and friends to death talking about it. Later, when you’ve decided that the idea was actually pretty crappy, you then get people asking you how its going and you look a complete fool. These days I only tell what I’m doing to people whose job it is to know such information. That would be agents and publishers. Over the years I’ve never learned to show anything I’ve written to people until it’s actually on the bookshelves, or nowadays, on Kindle. There’s nothing worse than a friend telling you that they’ve written a book and asking, ‘can you read it and tell me what you think?'” Ian has produced a masterful story, full of darkness, hilarity and light. The hero will have you cheering as Johnny Nothing ends up being everything.