QOTD - 18 October 2018

There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they
exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them ~ Denis Waitley

Oh my goodness... Could the Universe get any louder!?

The message has been well and truly received. And I know that it has finally sunk in because this morning I woke up ready to tackle the day, and I have had a pretty productive day.

I am ready for the take the responsibility to change the current conditions.

I am ready to stand up for myself and get the training I need to be the best I can for the new chapter in my working life.

I am ready to enjoy my work again.

I've got this - BRING IT ON!

{Picture found here}

What challenges have you risen to recently?

What sadness can bring

Mr M lost a very close friend a week ago. It was an unexpected and tragic death, and he leaves behind his wife and toddler, and a small community of family and friends struggling to comprehend what's happened.

Death and grief are two of my all-time least favourite subjects (and I don't think I'm alone in this). I have a tendency to run away from death and grief in the hopes that they will never touch my life; I know, I know, dumb and impossible.

But, Mr M has been utterly devastated by this loss and I am proud to say that even with my aversion, I have fully stepped up to help him through this sad and painful time.

I NEVER confront death. If the thought of it enters my head, my brain scrunches its eyes shut tight, holds its hands up to its ears and sings "LAH LAH LAH, I CAN'T HEAR YOU" ever so loudly. But this time, I told my brain to stop. I'm not wallowing in my emotions, but I am sitting with them; welcoming them into my heart, acknowledging them and allowing them the time to be processed appropriately. I respect this man too much to ignore my hubands (and my own!) feelings on the sadness of his passing.

(Huh. It seems that I may have grown up somewhat... well, that and a few years of therapy!)

With this newfound sense of acceptance, I have also broken through my fear of visiting with our friend's wife. I was terrified that I would do something wrong, or say something stupid and thoughtless in my awkward uncomfortableness with the enormity of the situation. But in the face of her all-consuming grief, a grief that I cannot even begin to fathom (thanks to my never entertaining the thought of such a loss), I stared down my fear and reached out to her with an gigantic hug and a heart full of love. And from her reaction, I did good.
Side-note: I'm a great hugger, it's kind of my signature move.

~*~*~*~*~

As usually happens in the aftermath of a tragedy, the truly important things in your life tend to pop out in stark contrast to the mundane and ordinary things; the things that seem to consume all your time and energy but aren't really as important as they pretend to be.

Through the (far too) few times we have spent time together, and stories from Mr M, I know that his friend was funny, insightful, spiritual (though not religious), a very devoted husband and father, generous - he was a giver (of time, energy, and things when required), a super talented cinematographer, a writer, a refugee, a pain in the ass sometimes (aren't we all!), a dream chaser, a lover of animals, open-minded (and even when he was being a judgmental jerk, he was still open to the alternative view), an amazing friend to Mr M (with a fantastically eclectic bunch of friends), and a real go-getter; if he said he was going to do something, he went and did it. No exceptions. And everything that he did, he approached with an open heart ready to accept the adventure ahead.

Because of his friendship with Mr M, and with his passing, this man has become an inspiration to me. His heartbreakingly early death has reminded me that life is waaaaay to short to be fucking around with things that make me feel "meh" or make me unhappy. He was prolific with the work that he created, writing a feature film about his family's life and their ordeal to seek asylum in Australia in the 70s, whilst at the same time working on a documentary about an orchestra from his home country, and filming artistic adverts for international fashion houses.

He was living every single, day doing what he was passionate about and enjoying every moment. Yes there were bad times for him, and unpleasant interactions that impacted on him. But they never stopped him from pursuing what he wanted.

A few days after his death, I wrote a list: "Things that need to happen". Some of the things on the list are chores that I should have done ages ago (contact a financial advisor); some are things that are super important to do ASAFP, especially now that I know that any moment could be my last (write a will! This also falls under the should have done ages ago section); and some are things that I have been meaning to put effort into, but just never find (make!) the time to do.... such as writing and finding a side hustle.

To honour the life of this talented mo-fo, I have decided to live my life more fully. Concentrate on the things and people that fill my heart with love and joy. Dedicate some time each day to writing, and to find the joy in learning the craft. And together, Mr M and I have decided to live the life that we want to live; to pursue a lifestyle that results in our family's happiness.

Hold your loved ones close, and connect with those who mean the most to you, tell them WHY they mean so much to you. Try not to take anyone for granted, for who knows when they won't be there anymore.

Big love.

It's time for a change

Have you ever woken up one morning, and just KNOWN that something has fundamentally shifted within you?

{Image from here}

I've had it once before (that I've been aware of), when I realised that it was time to end my previous relationship.

But usually I have a minor shift; nothing that I really take notice of, more of a general “hmm, I think I might need something to change, but I’m pretty ok with what’s going on so I’ll keep it in mind but I’ll leave it for a while”

After one of these shifts, I will often give a half-hearted attempt to look for something that has the potential to soothe my soul. But I never follow through with anything, and so have never found what it is that I need. Oh man, I am so not good to myself!

A couple of months ago I had another minor shift, and so I have been in the perfunctory throes of trying to find what it was that could ease my appetite for… well, I don’t know what actually. I just know that I have been searching for something.

Then weekend before last, I went into the study to clean up a pile of books that Warrie had thoughtfully pulled off the bookshelves. The first book on the top of the pile was a book that I had bought years ago, but never got around to reading – “I could do anything. If only I knew what it was” by Barbara Sher.

I picked the book up and put it on my bedside table.

A few days later I flicked through the book, and it randomly opened at a page. The following extract jumped off of the page and hit me like a tonne of bricks.

“… people who fear failure have got it wrong. They really fear success. If you truly feared failure, you’d be very successful. People who fear anything stay as far away from it as possible.”

Wow. Powerful stuff, right?

I had to re-read it a few times to make sure that I had understood what I was seeing. And every time I read it, it was like an alarm going off in my head.

I have spent so many, many years telling myself that I wasn't doing things because I was scared of failing at them. In fact, Mr M and I had a bit of a row about it just last month – I had told him I wasn't writing because I was scared of not being good enough at it, and his response was to tell me that I was talking a crock of shit; that I was making excuses. Needless to say, I didn't talk to him for the rest of the evening.

“If you truly feared failure, you’d be very successful.”

{Image from here}

Then I saw that line, and suddenly I got it. Mr M was right, I WAS talking shit. And I have been making excuses for myself for YEARS – hiding behind my so called “fear of failure” to justify to myself why I hadn't taken chances.

The crazy thing is, when I HAVE taken chances things have worked! The biggest (and best) example of this was breaking off my engagement and leaving my life in the UK to take a chance on a new relationship in Australia.

I risked everything to be with someone I thought could be “The One”, and I ended up married to the love of my life and with two gorgeous boys to boot. Pretty sure that counts as successfully conquering my fears!

A few weeks ago, I had a situation at work that has shaken me to my core; my professional and personal confidence has been shattered, and I have been left confused, scared and very unsure.

{Image from here}

Since then, I have spent a LOT of time thinking about the situation. An unhealthy amount of time, actually.

I have been trying to shift my mindset from one of fretting about and worrying at the problem, to a much healthier one of not worrying about what has already has happened, letting go, and dealing with things as they arise.

No mean feat for a girl who has been a life-long worrier!

But I think I have been successful. Now, nearly three weeks on, I see this “situation” at work as a catalyst of sorts.

I believe that things happen for a reason. And as distressing and exhausting as it is; I know that this has happened so that I can grow from it.

Maybe the Universe was sick and tired of me not following through with the minor shifts I had been feeling, and this was the only way it could get my attention.

Maybe it’s just my turn to have something a little unpleasant happen to me (and let’s face it, if this is the worst that I ever have to deal with then I am a very lucky girl!)

Whatever the reason, there has been a fundamental shift within my psyche that is too big to ignore. I can no longer stay stagnant; I have to move, I have to push my boundaries.

I have to be brave and find what it is that truly makes my heart and soul sing.

{Image from here}

What makes your heart and soul sing? Have you ever experienced a shift of your be-ing? I’d love to hear about your journey!

Self love is the new black!

So I feel like my last post was a bit of a downer. Especially as I set it to post on Mothers Day - awks! I had totally forgotten about Mothers Day when I scheduled the post!!

Today, I saw this post on MindBodyGreen about learning to love your body. And this comes just days after my Mum gave me a magazine article about being kind to yourself (which I'm yet to read).

So Universe, I get it, I am starting to listening to you. I will read the articles, take the advice on board, and take action.

I am sick of not loving myself enough. It has been such a long time since I fully accepted myself and been happy with the way I am... it was a magical few years between 17 and 20.

Mostly in the time since then, I have liked myself. Usually enough, sometimes barely enough. But loving myself? Surely that's what husbands are for!? (I'm joking!!)

So I'm ready to change, ready to be a woman comfortable in her own skin - stretch marks and all... well, maybe not the stretch marks just yet.

The MindBodyGreen post had a few suggested positive affirmations to help on the journey of self love. I have printed them off and I'm going to put them next to my bed to be the last words I see at night, and the first words I see in the morning....

• I am enough
• I am beautiful
• I am unique
• I love and respect my body (also, my mind and spirit!)
• I am more than my body
• My body is a safe, happy place
• I reject artificial standards of beauty that do not serve me
• I love myself unconditionally
• I see the beauty in all living things

To be honest, that last one has never a problem for me. But the rest is going to be hard to feel comfortable with for a while.

In the meantime, to counteract the negative feeling I was left with after my last post, here are a list of things I love about myself:

• I love the shape of my feet and how cute they look when I get a pedicure
• I love my legs
• Mr M loves my bum, so I guess that I can love that too.
• My biceps are pretty alright too.
• I love my big heart, and how open I am to loving people and letting them in.
• I love that my smile always reaches my eyes. I don't usually fake smile - if it's not for real then I just won't smile, full stop. Oh unless it's small talk stuff and I'm being polite... but even then, I think I'm pretty genuine about my smile.
• I love my eyebrows - I have had a number of beauticians in the past tell me how lovely they are, and my Mum is totes jealous of them! :)
• I love my personality, I'm usually bubbly and always ready to see the positive side of things (unless it relates to me.... but I'm going to change that!!)

Huh. I actually already feel a bit better.
I did NOT see that coming! :)

So Ladies, and Gentlemen!, tell me what you love about yourself. It can be something small, it can be something big. It can be something physical or a part of your personality.

What do you LOVE about being you??

We were meant to be

Last night, Husband said probably the most romantic thing ever to me.

He told me: "Babe, we were always meant to be together"

We were driving home from our touch footy game; our two boys in the back, talking about how other people handle their relationships. He made some comment about how he had never been in a relationship where they broke up and got back together.

I looked at him - "But we did....."

~~~~~~~~~~

July 2008
Husband had been living and working in Fiji for about a year. We'd been taking turns to visit each other for a long weekend about every 10- to 12-weeks, but our relationship was mainly conducted via telephone, texts and emails.

My last visit to Fiji hadn't been a good one. In the few weeks leading up to the trip, contact with Husband had become less frequent and, when we did talk, it was very strained.

I spent the majority of our weekend at the beautiful Wananavu resort (quite possibly one of the most romantic places in the world!) with leaking eyes.... We were tense and stilted.

The dreaded phrase 'it's not you, it's me' had reared it's ugly head.

By the time I left, we had come to some sort of strange impasse. We were in limbo. No "issues" had been  discussed, we just knew that something wasn't right.

About a week later I got an email at work: "Call me when you get home, we need to talk."
Well you just know that isn't going to be a good conversation.

A few hours later, I hung up the phone in floods of tears. Whilst we hadn't actually broken up, things were not looking good.

During our hour long phone call, Husband had told me that he didn't know what he wanted anymore; he wasn't even sure if he wanted a relationship.

Of course, looking back, and after subsequent conversations with Husband, it's clear to me (us) now that he was a man nearing a crisis. He was just 30; living away from family and friends, and a newly appointed GM dealing with some of the most stressful workplace issues he'd ever come across, all without any "on hand" means of support (from his employer as well as family and friends)

Somehow (and to this day, I still don't know how I managed it! I put it down to the counselling course I had completed a few year previously), somehow I found the courage inside to tell him that it was ok.
I told him that I loved him, and I wanted what was best for him. I told him I could ease some of his stress by giving him breathing space; I wouldn't email or text or call until he told me he was ready.

He had already booked a flight home for the end of August. So we agreed to see how things went until then. He thanked me for being so loving and understanding; he thanked me for being such a good friend.

We both cried. My heart broke.

During that time, as hard as it was, I was true to my word; I gave him space. Though every day my heart ached, and I wondered if we would make it.

It was Husband who initiated all the contact... In fact, during that time he emailed or texted me more than he had in the previous 6-weeks. I tried to keep it light; I didn't want to give him anything more to run away from.

It was a rough time, no denying.
And unlike me, I knew that he had no-one to talk to; no-one to vent about his stresses, no-one to talk through his thought processes... He ended up doing that with me, in regards to work, as we had done for the last 18-months. But I knew there was no-one for him to turn to personally, and it made me so sad for him.

He hadn't told his family. I was still having weekly dinners with them, and his Mum would always ask if he was ok. Three weeks into the ordeal, I finally broke and told her. Of course, she knew something was wrong, but he was resolutely avoiding the topic with her

Even his friends didn't know what was happening. Weeks later he told me that he hadn't said anything to them, because he knew they would give him a bollocking.
I knew that too, which was why I hadn't said anything to any of his friends. I just told them that he was a bit stressed and could do with a friendly ear.

I wanted him to work through it without people pressuring him....

I wanted him to choose me because he wanted to be with me, not because his friends and family had told him to be with me.

Soon. it was the day of his return. I went to the airport to wait for him in a state of turmoil; I was excited to see him again, but terrified as I knew that this was make or break.

Then I saw him, and he looked happier than he did when I had last seen him in Fiji.

And then he saw me; and his face lit up, and in that one brief moment, I knew, JUST KNEW, that we would make it.

~~~~~~~~~~

"It was just like the old saying: 'If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours...'" I said last night. "In order to keep you, I had to let you go, even though it broke my heart to do it."

And that's when he said: "Babe, we were always meant to be together"