Category: Love and Hope

Hold On.

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I am going to republish this post, after hearing of the passing of Robin Williams.There are many amongst us who are battling depression. Brilliant people, who seemingly have the world at their feet. I can tell you from firsthand experience,that when you are feeling low, you have fallen into an abyss where the stars aren’t seen. They are smothered by an unforgiving cluster of coal, smeared across the light. I almost succeeded at ending my life at fifteen. In fact, I had a few serious attempts. Serious enough to have claimed my life each time. I didn’t want to die, I just wanted the pain to stop. I had to be brought back after my heart stopped. I awoke several days later in ICU,after dancing between life and death. I wasn’t pleased to still be here. I felt like a stranger in this world, without a home nor tribe. It seemed that circumstances including severe abuse- had conspired to push me out, and so I spun around in orbit. I tried to cling to a glimmer of hope, but in that dark moment,I couldn’t imagine anything changing. This was before being thrown off a building. This was before more pain, and a lengthy recovery.
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I am a grown woman now. I would say to that teen, “little girl, don’t give up. Don’t react in an act of violence against yourself. There will be growth after this anguish is done. You will get away.” Have you ever seen a forest after a bushfire? Black, the trees devoid of life. Then, regrowth. New shoots, tremulously and shyly start to peek out of the hollows. When I see this spectacle, I get emotional. That is what a person battling depression must cling to. New shoots will grow. It wont always feel like this. Today I talked to a friend, was helped by a friend, my daughter told me about her day, and we played. I had a few of her friends rush up and give me a hug. I have been loved. I have eaten good food and smelt citrus fruit. I have heard my little canaries melodic song and patted my guinea pig’s soft fur.
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Those with sensitive spirits, the wounded and vulnerable. We need more of you. You are the healers. Defy the pain that wants to take you out of this world. Just keep breathing. The answers will come to you in time. If you speak and aren’t heard, put it down to a dodgy connection, and try again with someone else. I love the saying, ‘If you are brave all the time, people will come to expect it of you’-Mignon McLaughlin. Nobody sees your suffering if they don’t know it exists. It is true, that some won’t understand when you speak your truth. Keep talking. I know Lifeline is stretched, and sometimes they can’t pick up every call. Try again. The stakes are too high. You are fighting for your life. You are precious. We need you. Lifeline, 13 11 14 in Australia. xxx

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DV

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The hidden, silent epidemic, wounding our children, scarring families and killing partners. We see the end result on television, and picture the scene we have once viewed in a movie. The partner arrives home, after visiting the pub, his dinner is set down in front of him. “What’s this muck?” he yells, before throwing the […]

The Fairy Playground.

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Sigh, I am an adult. I like the sense that I am able to choose my behaviour, and be responsible as a grown up. I don’t like that I gasped dramatically upon entering my child’s room and seeing this. The Fairy Playcentre.
She heard me, and came running. She had taken down all of her precious trinkets, and arranged them on her desk, trailing down to the floor and beyond. I saw an hour’s work putting everything back. “Do you like it?” she smiled. “I did it for the fairies to come play in.” I nodded, and reprimanded myself for being a silly adult. We wrote a little note to the fairies, asking if they liked what she had done, and left the room. “They loved it!” she squealed upon her return. On the note-by way of reply-was a resounding yes! We constructed more of an area for the visiting fairies. I wondered when I had lost my sense of wonder, believing in order more than mystery, order rather than games. Once again, this precious little soul has taught me. P1080403

Summer Holiday.

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It was hectic at the airport, even at dawn. My daughter got her little case spontaneously searched and hands on hips, rebuked security. “I am only a kid! What would I have a bomb for?!” They smiled, and I hurried her along. We got to our destination and were alarmed that our hire car wasn’t actually waiting for us at the airport. I had booked online and presumed it would be there. I was bit concerned that a man I didn’t know took us in a mini van to a place we didn’t know. Very relieved that he pulled up at an actual caryard and we got our car! Okay, step one down. My daughter and I made a unilateral decision to go to Tropical Fruit World. Barry, our tour guide, had that dry, laconic Qld wit I adored. When we all raised our arms in reply to his asking if we lived in NSW, he looked at us with a great deal of pity. P1070540After learning about the medicinal properties of fruit, I made a mental note to eat more of them in 2014. We arrived at the resort, bone weary but had an excited little girl with us. She immediately got in the pool, and as kids do, made many new friends.

She wanted to try the new ice-skating rink out, and I helped her lace up her boots. I had a lump in my throat as I watched other parents help my unsteady child. Soon, she had abandoned the ramp, and was whizzing around. P1070581Times like these, I feel quietly robbed. I would have given anything to be on that ice with her. When the time was up, I was greeted with a warm hug. “I pray that the doctors find a cure for your bones mummy.” She kissed me and I was healed. IMG_1123

Merry Christmas.

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“In every encounter we either give life or we drain it; there is no neutral exchange.” —Brennan Manning
I pray to always give life, rather than drain it. I think intent is all-important. I am going on retreat with my little family for a while. Back to basics. Have thrown a few items into a suitcase, and will sit on the beach and listen to the waves. Eat cheap meals at the local vegetarian restaurant. Just be. I haven’t done that in a long while. I said to my daughter that we were gifted with a holiday, rather than presents this year, and she was beyond happy. She cant wait to swim with me in the pool, and go to the local parks. To sit atop a mountain and reflect. I pray that whatever you are doing on Christmas Day, and no matter how challenging your year has been, you can find peace. Enough to fill your pockets, and cheer your heart. I know what lonely and broken is. How it feels. Connect with others. Go to one of the free meals angels such as Bill Crews at Exodus in Ashfield put on. Know you are loved. Know that even though the world seems to have stopped, it shall continue and you wont be a hostage, rather a willing traveller. Eight years ago on this date, I was told I was pregnant. Hope resumes, loneliness subsides, and life begins anew.

Thankyou.

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Thankyou for believing in me and for the unbelievable support I received during this year. Having my book launched in 2013 was both thrilling and terrifying. The messages and love made me buoyant. If I could give you one further message as this year winds up, it is this. You can survive, you can endure and you can overcome. I have a situation at the moment, which has rocked me to my core. That is how these things happen isn’t it? Unplanned and swift, without any notice. Here we are, minding our own business, ambling along, when thud! I was stunned by the visage of my tree of life falling. I started shaking, and then I cried. I talked my truth, and held my child. Shocks have a habit of seeping into the festive season, have you noticed? Everything is so concentrated. The need for more time, more energy. Day five, I am feeling stronger. I will make it. A tree fell, and I am crestfallen. If I put it in a pot, decorate it with bells and lights, it will be pleasing throughout Christmas. In 2014, I shall plant a new tree. It will be small, but with dedicated care, it shall grow. I shall grow. Remember throughout this season, to gather your thoughts, make time for a cup of tea, and breathe. Just breathe.

Weird day today.

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After a concentrated, delightful weekend, I faced a weird day. One of those days when you feel out of sorts. I got home from pickup, the most pressing feature being getting feeling back through the right side of my body. A hot bath then voltage via my Tens machine! Yes! A missed call from my beautiful publicist, saying that Radio National wanted to interview me for White Ribbon Day. Oh my goodness! I called her back and she said I was to be interviewed live at 5.15pm! I felt a weight of responsibility on my shoulders. My little girl was excited and declared she would hold my hand throughout the interview. What a price to pay. It is a daily price. The pain never fades, in any respect. I am not doing any of this for me. I could have written children’s books from the start! I am whimsical and it is what I relish. I am ill-prepared for my story. It is ill-prepared for me.

My daughter is on her headphones, listening to Katy Perry, and singing her lungs out. We are cool! I feel the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. I am so sorry, so very sorry, for all those that didn’t survive. I am hoping to lead the way for all those that did and wonders what happens next. I am so glad I am here. I understand those that couldn’t hang on. At the end, there is nothing but love. It is hard to rebuild a life. I am still constructing, but after the violence ends, there is nothing but joy throughout the whole process. I am thinking of all who have been told they were nothing, have been abused in any manner possible this White Ribbon Day. Believe me, you are everything. xxx

World Vision.

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My gorgeous friend is a World Vision volunteer, and put the call out for an assistant to help her sell Ken Duncan’s new book, Vision of Hope: Mother & Child. Grateful for the opportunity to hang out with my friend, I said I would come with her. The rain was heavy as we made our way over, and we were amazed at the amount of cars and people at the Parkside Church, Edensor Park. You know the feeling of uncertainty when you are in unfamiliar surroundings? That’s what we experienced, at first. There were food stalls set up, catering for every culture, and the aromas were delightful. Inside the hall, a man was strumming his guitar and friends were seated at tables, hanging out. We found our World Vision guide, Warwick, and he explained the intricacies of the Eftpos machines (which I prayed wouldn’t fail me), and that all money raised from the sale of the spectacular book would be going to their typhoon appeal for the Philippines. The cover is smothered in saffron and honey tones, and I marvelled at how gorgeous our world really is. How blessed are we that photographers live in the mindful state required to capture such beauty. We put on our orange t-shirts, and talked to our new friend Warwick, sharing snippets of our lives, his in Melbourne and ours in Sydney. He loves his job, and is fantastic at it.

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Listening to Ken Duncan talk in the church, I discovered a dynamic man. He is in love with life and filled with faith. In our Western world, it is easy to become insular, and see the issues facing others as suffering on a different planet. His images, of little girls becoming Indonesian princesses in gowns, after having been rescued from the sex trade, of mothers and babies and little ones smiling, are heavenly. They are us and we are them. We are one. People came up to our table to buy the book. People of all cultures and walks of life. Gracious people who waited patiently as I fumbled with the Eftpos machine. Those who inquired about sponsoring a child, well, I wanted to jump the table and hug them in appreciation. The thrill of seeing the photo of a child being removed from the board after sponsorship had taken place was an event that will stay with me. http://trans.worldvision.com.au/visionofhope/

Crystal Painting.

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My dear friend Britta Ehlers has devised a medium called crystal painting. It is ingenious, combining pulverised crystal into paint, as well as such materials as four leaf clover and sand. I had wanted to do a workshop with her for a long while, however, life wouldn’t release its grip. When the opportunity came up last weekend, I did what one must when there is a burning desire to fulfil a dream. I paid my deposit and cleared space on the calendar. There will always be a reason that you can’t do the very thing you need to. You need to give yourself permission. A group of gorgeous, strong, brave women gathered at Britta’s, a clear vision in our mind’s of what we needed to create, and the colours we would be using.

The sun signifies promise to me. The promise of a new day. When I was fifteen, and preparing myself to die at the hands of a homicidal maniac, it was nightfall. I believed I would never see the sun on earth again. The next morning, the staff had to take me to a specialized radiology department, and I was wheeled through open corridors at this large hospital. It was early, and I looked up at the expanse of clouds. Suddenly, the sun broke through. Tears ran down my face, as I smiled. The break of dawn. A sunrise I never thought I would see. During the bleakest times in your life, I pray you will hang on for that sunrise. It lives up to its promise.

My painting will be displayed in my living room, a symbol of hope to my family, and all our guests. It was painted using rubies, pyrite, orange calcite, peacock father and sunshine calcite. Thankyou for the gift of your time, love and friendship, Britta Ehlers. xxx