Category: Love and Hope

Seeds and Growth

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They certainly did not know that we were seeds! Seeds containing the most fragrant, vibrant flowers. This life, it can get so ugly. I have had my body smashed up, bloodied and ground into the dirt. I have been saved by garden mulch. When I am out, and find it has stuck to my shoes and clothes, I am not in the least irritated. Rather, I am grateful for being reminded of the time it saved my life. If I had landed on concrete, I would be gone. The mulch softened my fall, allowing me the opportunity to live.

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The battle was far from over. There I’d be- lovingly attending my budding garden- when a slug would come along and eat the shoots. Pesticide was poured over the dirt, and it seemed that everything had died. Over and over again. Little did they know that there were slumbering seeds buried way underneath the mulch. They couldn’t destroy what would flourish underground! As a grown woman, I have tools to keep the pests at bay. I have a little fence (not white picket in nature), and those seeds are about to rupture. No matter what they do, they can’t access those seeds. I think it’s time for us all to bloom. I will scoop up a handful of mulch, and give thanks.

Retreat and Refreshment.

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This was me at the end of term 2. I was hanging out for the school holidays, longing for days at home. The last week of term, I was in the city five times for workshops, shows and other commitments. It is a journey of almost two hours each way. I would curl up in the shower each morning, allowing the heat to wash over my spine, willing myself to get going. When you are in that level of pain, you operate on automatic pilot. The promise of a two week break got me through. We have been for walks through our beautiful town, and have had plenty of home days. It has been bliss.

 

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Getting the house in order and planning for Term 3 has been wonderful. Resting when I need to, and playing with my daughter has been a treat. Life gets so busy; too busy. There needs to be retreat as well. I don’t know how anybody with a massive amount of daily pain does it. I certainly don’t know I get through!  I do it because I have to. I am grateful that I still can.

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This is sometimes where I find myself. I have to rest, and connect with my daughter. I need to lay flat, as it’s the only way I find relief from the relentless pain. It is frustrating when there are so many marvelous things going on, and so many special friends to see. Those closest to my heart are those whom understand and patiently await our return to society. I appreciate them with all my being. No pressure, just love. I am starting to let go of feeling bad if I have to have a day in bed to recover.

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These are indeed the best moments; the pockets of time where we can heal and grow strong. On my walks, I have been able to appreciate the sound of the bell birds and kookaburras, the sight of llamas, horses and cows, and the pleasantries exchanged. I have caught up with friends I haven’t seen for well over a year, and it is as though no time has passed. We pick up where we left off, and there is nothing but love. I will keep going on this strange and wonderful journey, and during term, whirl around from event to event. In the holidays, I will continue to retreat into the mists, emerging refreshed. It is how it has to be.

 

 

Real Friends

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I love the above. For too long I tried to be everything to everyone. I tried to fit into spaces not meant for me. I lost my voice and my boundaries. My life was a free-for-all. I was exhausted. When the drainers were done, there was nothing left. I watched as they flitted from energy source to energy source, surviving quite nicely without me. The fact was, I wasn’t helping them anymore than they were capable of loving me. I have come to learn what love is by uncovering what it isn’t. 420866_339739942726524_237387945_n

Friendship should feel good; you ought to feel assured of your place in their world. I have come to understand that it isn’t based on what you are able to do for that person,  but rather who you are. Can you imagine being surrounded by friends who affirm that if you have nothing but yourself to give, that is more than enough? Friends who offer support and call in with food when you are sick? Friends who celebrate and commiserate with you? Friends who love you because you breathe? I am proud to say that I have these friends. I had to fight many a battle to get to them, and the path was fraught with detractors.

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I have turned myself inside out for people I called friends. I was used, scoffed at, ignored and discarded. It hurt, but not knowing the light of my own being hurt much more. I had to determine that I deserved better in order to find true friends. I accept invitations when I can. I help whenever I possibly can. It feels as though no time has passed when we have the opportunity to spend time together. We have each other’s back. There is still a child inside my soul, alone and begging the world to love her. My job is to guide this enthusiastic character, so she is steered toward people who are open to loving her as she does them. Boundaries are a good thing. Not everyone is meant to hold the precious key to your heart. I find you aren’t hesitant in showing your vulnerability when it occurs in the presence of a true friend. That is worth holding on for. Stubbornly refuse to hand over the key until you have found your tribe. There will be exchanges of heart and mind, with an equal amount of energy flowing in an endless cycle. That is the safety which comes from having boundaries. Start with being a friend to yourself. Friends will come and they shall stay.

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The Time I Won a Car!

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I didn’t get my driver’s license until after I had my daughter. I was too busy having surgery in my earlier years, and besides, living in the city, it was more convenient to take public transport. I started receiving driving lessons whilst undergoing IVF. The instructor was a tiny little lady with a Cockney accent and a bubble car. She had to sit on a  cushion whilst driving (as did I). I failed my first driving test as the gruff instructor was frustrated that I hesitated when he ordered me to go right at a notorious intersection. The next time I sat the test, I passed. I was praised by the female instructor for being cautious at the same intersection!

I was in need of a car, so imagine my delight when a local pharmacy rang, congratulating me for winning a car in a competition I had entered months before and forgotten about. A junior assistant spoke with me, and said I could pick it up from the pharmacy within a few days. Excitedly I texted everyone I knew. “My luck is turning!” I relayed. Friends congratulated me, and we all anxiously awaited the date of delivery. I was asked many times what kind of car it was, and I answered that I didn’t know, as I hadn’t asked. “Who cares! Its a new car!”

I went down to the pharmacy, anticipating that it would be sitting in the car park, wrapped in a huge bow. A lady came out of the stockroom with a box. I had won a car alright, a bright red toy coupe. My toddler was impatient as I put the blasted thing together, and then excitedly banged into every corner of the house as she ‘drove.’ I had to laugh, even as I sheepishly sent out another message to explain my mistake.

I haven’t been driving this year, partly because it is cheaper to get around with public transport, though mostly due to my spine. My right leg and foot goes numb and are painful, and the medication I am on makes me feel spacey. I look forward to driving again, and having  more independence. If I ever win a car in a raffle, I shall be asking whether it is a toy or not!

Toilet Stall Wisdom

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These were discovered in a toilet stall at a young people’s theatre. The writings really spoke to me, and I had to photograph them. I wonder where these kids are now; whether they are still performing? I hope that they all have grand lives and I thank them for their ponderings.

‘Acting isn’t about putting masks on-But taking them off.’ Indeed, young sage.

The Wish Game App

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 I have always had a healthy cynicism regarding the positive thinking movement. I think most survivors do, having repeatedly heard such chestnuts as “forget the past, look to the future.”  I once took a call at a luncheon from the IVF scientist in charge of taking care of my two precious embryos. They informed me that one of the two had perished. Heartbroken, and left with one chance of successful implantation, I went back to the table. “What’s the matter?” a companion asked. I told them the news, and they smiled. “Chin up!” they said, and went back to their conversation. I felt dismissed, and certainly my grief was unheard. I felt almost embarrassed, as though I shouldn’t have had a reaction at all. Platitudes don’t help, and are almost certainly entirely damaging when one is fragile, whether it be through grief or other trauma. Positive thinking can sadly be an escape for those who aren’t comfortable supporting and hearing another’s pain. Throw a person a platitude and then walk away. Being happy and planning for the future is altogether different.

It was in this spirit that I tried out this particular app. I was cautious, not expecting much at all. I punched in my desire to travel, and was pleasantly surprised at the result. The game took me through my desire, and then looked at how I may be sabotaging the realization of this goal. I realized that I have a fear of flying, and also am hesitant about travelling due to my health. Even the hassle of obtaining a passport has put me off! Once I looked at all the obstacles, the game allowed me to break down the steps into workable pieces. It is going to send me reminders on the dates I set! I see this game as a useful tool to get me to where I want to be. When you look at your dreams, they can seem too big and overwhelming. It is only when you break them down that you can see a way to achieving them.

The Wishing Game App is available here.

A Wedding Brimming with Love

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My daughter and I attended the wedding of a dear friend a short while ago. It was fortunately scheduled exactly a week before wild weather flooded our area, making road closures necessary. In the spirit of the couple, the wedding was held inside a barn, and had a rustic, low-key vibe. There was even a photo booth! I trembled at the sight of my friend being escorted down the aisle by her teenage son. She looked gorgeous, in a beaded gown the hue of champagne. It was made all the more precious because at one time, my friend teetered on the precipice of hell. Through her own tenacity, she found her way through, and into a life beyond her wildest dreams. Her fellow had sent her a random Facebook message, and they had started chatting, this stranger and her. I have never seen a woman look happier, nor a groom look more at peace. It was an honour to be there. They held a sand ceremony, where each of the family poured coloured sand into a decanter, symbolizing their bond.

The reception was held in a country town’s community hall, and old-fashioned games were set up for the kids. They didn’t stop playing all afternoon! The adults talked of their hopes and visions of the future, and lovely connections were formed. This was my kind of wedding! Informal and fun, love infusing the air as the sun beamed down.

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Happy endings are achievable. It often requires a risk; a suspension of disbelief. Happy endings are possible. My friend taught me that.

Raphaela’s Picks of the Week

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Here is what transported, transfixed and transcended the everyday this past week.

A hummingbird dress. I want one!

We are in the midst of floods in Sydney at the moment. The following advice is important if one finds oneself on a flooded road!

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Vintage Clothing and a Ballerina!  https://www.buzzfeed.com/xmonix/this-ballerina-is-mixing-ballet-with-vintage-2efu6

Sacred Whinging Spot

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I used to live near a lush reserve, groaning with Weeping Willows. I had a sign on my front door, advising (pleading), for guests to let all the negativity go at the threshold, and come into the house with fresh energy. As a hermit, my house was sacred, a place where I was protected from doom and gloom. A sanctuary where magic existed alongside art and the sound of my typewriter clanging away. I had a business, Avalon’s Gnome, and created a world away from the everyday. Heaven knows, I knew that irritations would arise, as would anger. I just didn’t want to pollute my space with the residue.

I came up with the idea of a having a designated Sacred Whinging Spot. I went for a walk, and found the perfect place. It was a covered area with seats, nestled in amongst the Weeping Willows. I would stuff a cob loaf with ricotta, tomatoes, basil and garlic, and take it along with a thermos of Irish coffee to this space, and when nobody was around, I would let it all out. In between operations, I would relay my fears. I wept, I raged, I told people off in my mind and I expressed my irritation at circumstances and situations. I would eat my Cob loaf and drink my coffee, and leave refreshed. Heck, if you are going to have such a sign over your front door, you have to practice what you preach! I lived in this Federation brick house until it was knocked down to build a unit block. It was one of the happiest, most serene of my many abodes, and I am pretty certain that a part of that had to do with my rule. There were no arguments or words spoken in haste lingering in the rooms. Once my aggravations were expelled at the Sacred Whinging Spot, they were pulled into the earth and transmuted into pure energy.

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Maybe its time to resurrect the notion of a Sacred Whinging Spot, to ensure my home is acoustically clear. Letting it all out whilst surrounded by nature and trees that sway sympathetically in the breeze. There’s magic in that!

Raphaela’s picks from the Internet this week.

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Things I have found inspiring throughout the week. Look at this fellow below!

A fabulous article on Sydney’s Vivid Festival by Elissa Blake. If you are planning to go, read this first!

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