A Whirlwind Week

February 24, 2016February 24, 2016 raphaela995 Comments

On Sunday, we watched a short film that Rev. Bill Crews is putting into a festival. It centred around the homeless residing in two parks near Central Station. How it must feel to be out in the elements in heatwaves and bitter cold… Many in society have a tenuous grip on their security, and it would take but retrenchment or ill health to plummet them into the homeless community. Perhaps that is why many look away. Fear will do that. A lady talked about her daughter’s high school, how they went to one of the parks, armed with sleeping bags. The kids asked questions and listened to the people table their stories. The people became human beings with back-stories, rather than ‘the homeless.’ What a wonderful thing to do!

In the evening, I took my daughter to Govinda’s, a vegetarian restaurant in the city. My daughter proudly ate a lettuce leaf, and some sunflower seeds, and then devoured a bowl of ice cream! She has promised me that she will try new food every day, and I am holding her to it! It would be great to expand her repertoire from beyond Vegemite, apples and Lavash crackers! Okay, she does eat more than that, though barely. Kids can become fixed with their eating habits. I have found that when I leave it up to my daughter to uncover the joy of a new food, it ends much more happily than if I had forced her to try it!

On Monday, I was waiting for the bus with my daughter, to go to drama class. The lady I befriended at the bus stop a few weeks ago pulled over and offered us a lift. Bless her, she went out of her way to take us to the train station. My daughter was impressed with her Hello Kitty seat covers and the delicious air conditioning. It beat waiting in the blazing sun! Australia is having a very hot week! How wonderful it is when strangers become friends.

We were at a show yesterday, and I was seated next to a stranger. She was an older lady, and she asked whether my daughter was having a day off school. I explained how she is home schooled, and that it has been great for her dyslexia, to be able to take her time. She told me about her grandson, and how he is dyslexic. Sadly, he has no confidence in his abilities, and left school early. I was able to give her some details about the Exodus Tutorial Centre-among other resources -whom may be able to help. Her eyes lit up, and I knew it was not by accident that we were seated together. She lives not far from me either! Life is a strange and wonderful thing!

It has been a whirlwind week, and it is only Wednesday! More activities have been heaped onto my plate, and at the moment, I am eager for them. I haven’t started the medication for my nerve pain as yet. I have been warned by my doctor and those on it, that whilst it is effective, it will certainly cause drowsiness. I am making hay whilst the sun shines! It is going to be factored in within the next few weeks, making home time necessary. Life is cyclical, isn’t it? I am in the season of crazy-busy, and within a month, I will be in the cycle of repose whilst I get used to this new medicine. Nothing lasts forever; not the whirlwind, nor the sleepiness. Its a matter of adapting to your situation.

Update from Raphaela

October 5, 2015October 7, 2015 raphaela9910 Comments

I received some devastating news last Friday. It came in the form of a group email, stating that my publisher had gone into receivership the previous Monday. I read and re-read the email, unable to take it in. I worked hard for two years, promoting my book and also planning eight further titles. The room spun as I tried to gather my thoughts. It meant that I wouldn’t receive royalties, and that the income I hoped to receive whilst home schooling my daughter wouldn’t be forthcoming. Life had to continue, even as I struggled to process what had occurred. I took my daughter to a friend’s home, as she was going to go to an ice-skating party with a bunch of girls. I didn’t talk about what had occurred. Instead this mum and I laughed about all manner of things until tears streamed from my eyes. It was such a release. I found it hard to leave and go back home to try to do the practical things necessary in this crisis.

On the Saturday, I attended a 40th birthday party for a courageous friend. I have watched her create a wonderful life for herself and her girls over the past eight years. It hasn’t been easy, but she has done it. There was a fire pit, and I sat mesmerized as the flames danced. I haven’t been sleeping since this occurred, feeling as though I am in limbo. I can’t do anything until the receiver’s get in touch and let the author’s know about their books. I am stunned that we were told in such a manner, and angry that the publisher didn’t live up to many parts of the contract. I had to trust that they would, as we have to do on many occasions. Trust a person’s word. Trust them on face value.

My daughter was asked if she could climb a glorious tree in a friend’s backyard and thread through lighting and mirror balls in preparation for a house-warming. She is an avid climber and had a ball helping out. I sat underneath this beautiful tree, and it reminded me of the one in The Magic Faraway Tree.

The light shot out and changed colour every minute. It turned the tree into a kaleidoscope of luminescence. The kids chased each other and threw water balloons, and I listened to the band singing ‘Blackbird’ by The Beatles. At that particular moment, all was calm in my world. There were tears as I talked with friends, but there was also laughter. I feel the need to display to my daughter how one can bounce back from betrayal and disappointment. It helps to sit in a lush backyard with a beautiful community of people on a Spring evening. A galah joined us, and to our surprise, regaled us with a stream of profanities! It was perfect in its whimsy. I am so tired that I can’t think. I am so anxious that my stomach is in knots and my body is shaking. I feel a cacophony of emotions and dread the thought of starting again.

Start again I must, for there is a little girl watching; a child that I have to provide for. There are friends and magic trees and visiting galah’s with rude vocabularies. There is music and sunshine and giggling and water bombs.

Blogger Spotlight.

February 11, 2015 raphaela991 Comment

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.

The story behind my book…

VideoNovember 6, 2014November 10, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Lived to Tell is now available as an ebook. How it came to be is extraordinary, as is the story behind it. I sought refuge in writing, from the time I was a child. When I was eleven, I wrote a story about being thrown through the air, a bad man behind the plunge. I would […]

#ProjectPositive, September 27th. Personality.

September 26, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela992 Comments

The lady who helped reconstruct my life was an elderly Welsh doctor. She was a child therapist, who had been awarded an Order of Australia for her work with abused children. Over three years, she watched me grow, and shake off my demons. Looking at me intently, she remarked, “I thought you were irretrievably broken when I first encountered you. You have proved me wrong.” In my medical notes, a letter she had written to my orthopaedic surgeon was wedged between the pages. ‘I cannot say thankyou for referring this young woman to me, for managing her will be an overwhelming task.’ It wasn’t just this wonderful lady who had her misgivings. How often do we hear that when a tragedy befalls a person that they shall never get over it? At times I was afraid that I was irretrievably broken. Being a rebel, it became another tag to defy. I was not damaged beyond repair. We have a doll factory in Sydney, where even the most delicate porcelain dolls who have had faces fractured and limbs ripped off, can be put back together. If an inanimate object can be repaired, surely flesh and blood and heart can be too?

I firmly believe that your personality is gifted to you, and has nothing to do with your upbringing. You are a part of a tribe, but you are also an individual, here to shine in your own way. I look at my daughter, who has always been full of energy, stubbornness and humour. She has a pixie flitting around her soul, and it holds her in good stead. She has had her challenges and has seen me go through mine. She is made of strong stuff. I believe you grow into your personality. At first it can seem an odd fit for a little body, but as you grow, your essence makes more sense. If anyone-including an esteemed expert-ever dares to profess that you are irretrievably broken, don’t you believe it. Prove them wrong. Your personality is beyond what cruelty can damage. They can’t take it from you, nor reduce it long-term.

#ProjectPositive, September 17th. Good Vibes.

September 16, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

Good vibes is having hundreds of fairies in the room, trying to break the world record!

Good vibes can be found in the most extraordinary places, and in the most unexpected ones. You have to be on the lookout for these wondrous moments. The morning after the fall, I was wheeled along to the Catscan machine, and screamed in pain as I was lifted by six people into it. Exhausted, I was laying on my trolley in the reception area, waiting to be taken back, when an older lady came up to me. She smiled and stroked my cheek. “You have beautiful skin, darling,” she said. When I looked in the mirror held up to my face later that day, I only saw a severely bruised face, cut lip, cracked head, and dry, matted blood throughout my hair. The lady had good vibes, and saw me, beyond all the detritus. That’s what these folks do, they spread their good vibes around, like warmed butter. They cut through pain, sorrow, and horrendous times. It’s a gift. They flit in and flit out, much like a hummingbird, searching for nectar.

Last Valentine's Day, my beautiful friend invited my daughter and I for dinner. — Last Valentine’s Day, my beautiful friend invited my daughter and I for dinner.

Each hospital trip, they have found me. I will never forget coming out of my coma at thirteen, being taken back to my ward after weeks in ICU. The kids who had witnessed the doctors trying to resuscitate me, had decorated the walls with artwork. We sometimes feel impotent when tragedy strikes a person. We may not have the money to send large floral displays or gifts. We feel like we may be intruding. I can assure you, it’s the little things that mean so much. The card received in the letterbox. The meal cooked with love whilst I have been recuperating. The kind messages on Facebook. The reassurance that you have people in your life who love you and shall be there.

A wall of good vibes at Yoko Ono's exhibition, MCA. — A wall of good vibes at Yoko Ono’s exhibition, MCA.

I try to get over feeling self-conscious when a stranger obviously requires good vibes. Whether it be a smile, a compliment or assistance with directions, it can make such a difference in someone’s day. I have read of occasions where it has saved lives. Sure, I come across the odd sourpuss who looks me up and down and refuses to smile. That’s okay. Who knows what is going on in their life, nor the ripple effect my greeting may have on them throughout the day? Some of the best results happen behind the scenes. Good vibes are everywhere. In the art installation in the park, in the flower stubbornly growing in a crack in the pavement. Everywhere, man!

My friend, sending good vibes to a Gorilla. — My friend, sending good vibes to a gorilla.

A brave pirate with my feisty daughter. More good vibes!

#ProjectPositive,September 15th. The Biggest Thing I’ve Overcome.

September 15, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela994 Comments

The biggest thing I have overcome is…

I don’t have a personal favourite. Each time I overcame trauma, it was humbling, surprising and wondrous!

Child abuse. Being told that you are a slut, being labelled as stupid and being hyper-vigilant. A pleasant occasion, with cordial conversation and laughter makes such a child tense up. You sadly know it is a harbinger, ringing in screaming and fighting. As a result, I grew up extremely aware of my surroundings. I can tell you who is standing in the next paddock after a quick sweep of an area. Sensitive to noise and environments. There were times I wanted to die. Times when I felt I would never recover, nor feel whole. I went back to each place of trauma, wrote about them, took pictures. I was in fact saying that I was here, and I survived. Throughout this period, I learnt a lot about myself and why I respond the way I do to situations. Don’t like loud knocking at your door, nor talking on the phone? There is a reason for that and its a perfectly normal response when given your history. Need time alone to process and unwind after a social function? Again, perfectly reasonable. When I started to understand why I am the way I am, with my little “things,” I began to heal.

Being told I was stupid. I lost so much time at school in primary and high school, due to being drugged or being in hospital. I was told I was stupid and wouldn’t amount to anything in Year Seven. When you are told often enough, you tend to start believing it. They were wrong. A kid who isn’t clever couldn’t have survived the years that followed. I left school at fourteen, when I was put in the clinic, and was extremely nervous when I was signed up to Distance Education by my surgeon when I was fifteen years of age. I was in my rotor bed when the first pack of lessons arrived. To my astonishment, not only did I enjoy it, but I was also good at it. The teachers were encouraging, and I knew I had been lied to about my intelligence and ability to learn. I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to find out. Don’t believe them when they label you, please don’t absorb it!

Eating disorders. I had no control over anything in my life. I couldn’t make sense of schoolwork, as I had lost so much time. Where to find a modicum of control? I would alternate between bulimia and anorexia. I thought if there was little left of me, I could disappear. It was harsh and brutal. Walking for hours with an empty belly. Swallowing vomiting tinctures designed for victims of poisoning. Being happy when getting my stomach pumped as I would lose a kilo or two. It was savage and hard. Learning to love and appreciate this body took years. It was hard to look at food in a normal manner again. This is why I don’t hop on scales now, and make myself eat regularly.

Endometriosis. This one brought me to my knees. After having survived such darkness, I wanted a baby with all my heart. It was the carrot I clung to. Since age eleven, the pelvic pain had been agonizing. A proper diagnosis got left behind in the pressing need to stay alive. I was only officially diagnosed in my twenties. Hospitalized regularly, I was always placed in the maternity ward, a cruel and unusual way to be treated. The years of drug treatments and surgeries were tough. IVF was beyond hard. I went to ground, shutting off completely. That it eventually worked, was astounding to me. I had wanted more children, and nearly lost my life in the attempt. I grieved for quite some time, before finding peace.

Surviving it all! I am still amazed by the dawn of each new day. Amazed that I am here to see it. To have survived is extraordinary. I have my medical notes, and at times, the prognosis was grim. Here I am, an intelligent woman in her thirties, who smiles more than she frowns. Who plans for the future, and has left the pain behind. There was no magic secret I uncovered. It had to do with giving myself a break, understanding myself on a deep level, and kindness. With self-love and kindness, the healing begins. You define who you are, not them. xxx

#Project Positive, Day 8. My Job…

September 8, 2014December 30, 2014 raphaela992 Comments

Sydney Town Hall, reciting poetry. Ten years ago!

I am great at my job because I love it! I have always loved reading and writing stories. I had my own newsletter called ‘The Weekly Mag’ when I was little. The subjects I chose to focus on were the environment and animals. I printed copies and distributed it for a donation, which I would give to charities. Hearing people’s stories is a privilege, and relaying them is a big responsibility. I believe that we need to table our stories, and share with each other. We garner strength and courage by doing so. I relayed on this blog a while back, the time I met a schoolteacher after my second spinal operation. I was sixteen years of age, about to endure the committal hearing, and had a lot on my plate. I feared I may topple. This lady wrote her story down for me, and as she sat with me, my eyes grew wide with wonder. She was also very young when she had been subjected to an horrendous act. She had endured the court proceedings too. She told me this as a woman in her thirties, with a beautiful life. At that moment, I could see myself surviving, as she had. What a gift she gave me. If I can do the same, then my life has been blessed. It is hard to open oneself up, and become vulnerable, but the alternative is far worse. What would the point be of all that you have learnt, been through and accomplished? We are each other’s beacon’s. I love writing, and am blessed to be able to do it consistently. Find what makes your heart sing, and do that thing!

Write Facebook Status Updates for the year 2017

July 21, 2014 raphaela994 Comments

I am content.
My birds are tweeting happily.
My daughter fills me with joy.
Booked the flights to Paris, New York and London with bubs!
Feeling the best I have ever felt.
I love inspiring people.
I love you all dearly.
New book shall be out in spring!
I love my new home.
Nothing is needed to complete this moment.
Raphaela is alive and content.
This life is beautiful.
The demons have been vanquished, at last, at last.
I am content. (Did I mention, I am content)?

A Houseplant is Dying. Tell it why it Needs to Live.

July 18, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

You were a thing of beauty. I brought you home and proudly found a place for you, your green leaves redolent with sheen and strength. Did I not feed you the right preparation? Did I hover too much? Just as neglect can cause life to wither then die, so can hovering, over-feeding and watering and generally being cloying. Please don’t die! It’s disheartening to have failed in my quest to nourish you. If I cant keep you balanced and healthy, can I nourish myself? I am tired too, but I cant give in, I won’t. I want this same determination from you, my darling plant. Defy the frosts and gale-force winds, the summer heat and my little birds scratching at your soil. Stand proud with a sheen on your leaves. You are symbolic of new beginnings. If I see you resurrect yourself, I may too.