Vodka, passionfruit, lime and vanilla.

Ouch. One of my friends said to me yesterday you have to start saying yes. She said it because my work is winning at the moment and instead of backing off on that, I’ve said no to things outside of work. I’ve said no to the fun stuff, so I can say yes in my 9-5 world. So you know, ouch.

I’ve my balance so ass around I couldn’t see it. I’ve missed out on a lot in the last few months, all those early nights and skipped parties because I was dog-tired and no fun. By Friday night I was at work and then heading home, too tired to do much more than catch the ferry to the island (lol well Manly really). Two Sunday afternoons in tears and I still couldn’t see what was happening.  The thing is everyone in my company works like me, in fact I probably work the least hardest in my team. Still the art of balance is my responsibility, no-one else’s.

Saying yes at work is a strange thing to do when I know I’m outgrowing my job.  There is a disconnect between who I am and what I do. I don’t mind that, it’s gentle, but it’s left me with a vague sense of unease and fatigue. When we’re lost we can’t really discern what works for us so we try to connect with pretty much anything; we’re scattered.  The problem is, I’m not lost and I’m not scattered. So, the less scattered I am, the harder it is to connect with what isn’t me and that’s where it gets tiring.

Obviously saying no isn’t working. I just didn’t know it until my lovely friend pointed it out, exactly when I was drinking a cocktail called ‘Yes Please’ (it’s vodka, passionfruit, lime and vanilla). You think the universe was telling me something?!  Hell yeh.

This disconnected life has been fine up until now. Kind of. The last few months have been all about awareness. Awareness just isn’t enough now.  Awareness is waking up but it’s not the same as being awake and engaged.  To connect to what I want I have to say yes even when I’m dog-tired and want to curl up in a ball, not play ball.

Committing to yes means I’m not so tired because I’m committing to connection not disconnection.  I like that. It makes sense to me. So I guess, to go all Anthony Robbins, it’s time to walk the walk. Probably off a cliff knowing me but hey muppets can fly right? And I’ve a lovely cape ;)

Shaken, like a wet dog.

Grrr. This is how life has been feeling for me lately. Like I’m shedding skin but in a grumpy, restless, bone shaking way.

For the last five days I’ve woken up and thought I’m over it. Over what I’ve no damn idea. I’ve just no patience this week and it’s been a cool week too. Excellent things have happened and yet I keep waking up thinking like this.

I want to scream. And stamp my foot. And say wtf? …. a lot. I like my life so why doesn’t it fit me properly this week?

I’m just restless, irritable and frustrated. Not that anyone would know really. I’m not feeling that way about the humans, just about me and I’m not unhappy.

It’s dawn and beautiful. The sky is blazing pink and thunderous purple and I feel like its mocking me. How good is this and I’m over it?

And all this started when I read this quote:
“At the root of every large struggle in life is the need to be honest about something that we do not feel we can be honest about. We lie to ourselves or other people because the truth might require action on our part, and action requires courage. We say we “don’t know” what is wrong, when we do know what is wrong; we just wish we didn’t.

Buggar.

I’m over all the boundaries and little boxes I’ve made to house me. I’m sick of the body armour. I’m beyond tired of it.

I feel naked. Not a bad thing, given it’s a metaphor ;) The thing is when we’re naked everything touching our skin is a little more raw and intense. The lightest touch can feel like a slap and the softest breeze like a typhoon. It’s all a bit more real. And you know what? It’s a beautiful thing. I’ve not been appreciating the quality of vulnerability and rawness, I forgot in being over it, I’m still here.

And because I’m me, I’m smiling now.

So this is the way it goes down this week.

One little wet dog, shaking off some boundaries, shaking off some old weight.

Over it? Oh man I think it’s just beginning.

Road testing resistance.

Nightmare. Three ways to distract yourself from change and fail spectacularly. All road tested by me…sigh.

1) Lower your self esteem. Choose your poison here – chocolate, vodka, your thoughts. I can’t. I won’t. I feel guilty. I’m rubbish or a million other nasty things we fling at ourself.

This is only going to work to distract yourself from what’s really going on. Like an ostrich. When you take your head out of the sand you really will feel rubbish because a change that was vaguely gentle is now in your face. It’s now so much harder to flow with change. Not helpful.

2) Criticise other people. People walk too slowly. Talk too loudly. Wear tartan. Drive the bus jerkily. Want stuff from me. Seriously, who are these humans? Arghhh.

You end up thinking you can’t change because it’s clear the world is against you. Again you’ve diverted your attention. You’re looking for solace in the external. A reason not to move forward. Ain’t gonna work.

3) Everyone else is more important than you.

Oh please. Another distraction. Leading to resentment. We need to put ourselves first (in a healthy way)to live a meaningful, happy and interactive life. Choosing to play martyr is an escape clause so we don’t have to examine what we want or omg say what we want.

I’ve certainly been a fan of options 1 and 2. I’ve tested those out quite extensively in the past. The result? A lot of grief for no good reason. Option 3 I seemed to save for when I was so resistant to change I really needed the world’s biggest excuse.

All I can really say is it’s brilliant I know I did this. Well…in a ‘yay it sucks’ kinda way. I find it frustrating to know I wasted time distracting myself like this.

So what to do?
Recognise your behaviour. Sometimes it’s the hardest bit but if it doesn’t feel good you’re on the right track to working it out.

I also road tested the solution -lol how could I not?! – and it does get easier. Your focus inevitably changes to something better and more useful and suddenly change feels a lot more organic. And that is ‘Yay in a not sucks’ kinda way.

Grey.

It’s getting harder to stay still. I’m restless. My life’s just not fitting me as well as it did a year ago.

I keep expanding what makes sense to me. I think I’m becoming grey. Sigh. Nothing feels like an absolute. If something doesn’t work out, I cry and I’m unhappy and I hurt and then on I go.
My life isn’t as black and white as it once was. It’s not I don’t care. I just don’t feel polarised by life anymore. Lol have I given up controlling everything? Who is this girl?

I want to say it’s all falling apart but it sounds so negative. It’s not. Not at all. I mean it in the sense we fall apart to construct ourselves. Falling can be a gentle thing if we know it’s coming. We can sidle up to it, like patting a timid calf, and gently reach out to it. No one has to be scared and lol hopefully no one will get bitten.

It’s the funny little quirky things which help me realise I’m on a new path. I used to loathe dance music and now I listen to Swedish djs who do just that, as often as I listen to live acoustic and 70s stuff and my grungy gods and sexy Ben (Harper that is). I don’t remember the last time I wore jeans and these days I’m a little grumpy if I can’t ride my bike everyday. I feel like a kid who’s been grounded. Today I spent the day at work in flat shoes. Uh what?! This is the woman who thought 7inch heels were low. The books I always reread when I’m a bit stressed have no appeal. The stories seem too fluffy and not quite right.

For the last few weeks it’s like the world has dawned on me. I wake up or at odd moments think I live here, this is my life. So, this is what waking up is. Looking around me and actually seeing what my life is about. Being present. It’s the strangest thing. Lol though not in a best-see-a-therapist pronto kind of way. More like I’ve just worked out I made my life. I make my life.

I think this is why it’s harder to stay still. I’ve been taking the time to really look around and see my world. It’s been awesome and a bit…well cool..to see what I’ve created – the good and the feral. All up it’s quite hilarious given I could be the most uncool girl on the planet to think things are cool :) Now, it’s like I can see I’ve this bit exactly right, so what’s the next adventure? The next experiment?

I’m not planning to implode my life. I like where I live and I’m not sure I need any big gestures. I’ve done the whole imploding thing and I know how heavy it can be. It’s why you always know when it’s warranted. It’s not warranted for me now. Not to say something epic won’t happen, only it won’t be such hard work. It doesn’t need to be because right now, I’ve nothing to prove.

It’s like my soul has cartwheeled into another space and my head is having trouble catching up. It’s tugging at my hand saying come on!! much like me running down to the sea for a swim.

Lol and the song I’m obsessed with at the moment and no it’s not a DJ. It’s a cover of Only You by Mat McHugh and the Blackbird. It’s not about the lyrics, it’s a love song about a break up, but it’s the gentlest music with a voice which simply soothes. It’s the the perfect soundtrack for me now. Mesmerising.

Bored and a Bedouin.

I think I’m bored. Hmmm….bored? Really? Nah not bored, unchallenged. Too in my comfort zone for life to feel quite right. Wow how curious is this? I’d think the comfort zone is a great place to hang out. Seems not.

We really are nomads in our psychological lives. We’re always changing and moving on from what we believe and know now. We’re all Bedoiuns at heart ;)

I read a post this afternoon by Kayla Cruz about this very thing. I love the comment we’re not trees, we can change anything.

I can tell I’m ready to change something again. I’m a bit restless, and things which seemed hard and stressful a week ago, seem easier now. I’ve totally relaxed into this zone. I’ve been having a period of chilled-out-ness (and yep I made the word up :) which felt pretty good but now I’m ready to go again.

Ooops and then I thought go where? Now there’s a trap for young players. It doesn’t matter where I end up so much as being ready to follow whatever comes up. I know something feels ready to be handed over to the past but I’ve no idea how to achieve the change.

Not that I need to know how.

I used to be all about how but how is all about one possibility. It’s way too limited a way of looking at the world. Limited not only by the hope for one predetermined (by me) outcome, but limited by the imagination of my human brain.

Fearful thinking needs to know how. Trust doesn’t.

I’m a massive fan of the idea of ‘this or something better’. I heard a meditation teacher say it once and I hear it resonate around the web too. It allows for possibilities and reminds me the how is incidental. So often something more amazing than we imagine materialises. It doesn’t necessarily have to feel full of joy to begin with, though it does an awful lot, but in the end it’s the better than you could have imagined.

Perhaps it’s like when people say they love their partner more than they thought possible. Love better than you ever imagined? Now there’s a possibility none of us would choose to limit.

We’re mad to consciously discount the myriad of ways something can potentially come to us. It was pure muppet thinking by this little one.

I’m intrigued to see what this change is about. Something’s up but I’m
not yet sure what. I think I’m about to find out….awesome.

Mothering.

I used to mother people. Grrrr. I did it for years with an old bf and sometimes still do it with friends. I thought it was a good thing. It’s not, unless you’re actually a mother :)

Someone told me recently when we mother people we’re saying our needs are secondary. We disempower ourselves. It was a total oh yeh moment for me. Pure sense.

I mothered people because I thought I was supposed to, that being selfless was a good thing. It was a role model thing. As long as you put everyone in front of you, everyone will be happy. Right?

Uh no.

We all deserve to be heard, not least because we all have needs we deserve to have met. Knowing that means putting yourself first sometimes. It means saying what I need to do is important too. We’re all adults here. It’s no big deal if we interact like adults.

I realised the more I mothered, the more unhappy I was. Embarassing really but anyway..sigh…my hand is up. I did it. It led to a resentful me and a disempowered him, and a mess.

I learnt my lesson there and I’ll never do it again. It’s not possible. If I find myself mothering my friends I try and remember they’re adults and anticipating what they need, or have forgotten, is a bit mad.

Mothering means we think we know best for someone else and so we don’t always listen to what we’re really being told. How is that really being a friend anyway? I don’t want to be mothered I want to be heard and likewise for most adults in the world.

When we’re in mothering mode we’re not listening to ourselves either. Our focus is on anticipating what someone else needs and we forget, or ignore, what we need as well.

So. Not. Cool.

Amsterdam part 2.

So life came flying towards me and gave me everything I needed on this trip. Everything I had no idea I needed to see. I want to cry with the beauty of it.

Better yet it was all and more than my friend had hoped for. For him it was all he needed too.

A trip is just another journey. This one was different however because I was so ambivalent about the travel I had no expectations. Yet it was one of the most present and trippy weeks of my life. I don’t know why. It wasn’t intentional but everything worked out perfectly.

Everything we needed to do and see came to us. I’m not sure why we started saying it but our mantra became anything is possible. And it was. We never woke up any morning (lol or afternoon) saying we had solid plans for the day. We just went with the story and discovered hidden places and lost streets and old and new friends. Anything was possible.

This trip has shown me anything is possible if you open yourself to possibility. As soon as we have an expectation things will go one way we lose possibility.

We can’t ever know what life will bring to us in specific terms but when we open ourselves to a general feeling – for example to love or letting go- amazing things come to us. It will never be as we think it is but it will be. It’s like if you think you only want one guy you don’t have, you’ll not see the new and beautiful one in front of you with all the qualities you adore- and more :)

This life…sigh..

Maybe this week I really lived it like I’ve always wanted to. Or maybe at last I’ve opened my eyes to what is possible?

I’m on my way home now. Three more countries and time zones and flights to reach Sydney. I think I’m taking home with me a little of what I found of me here.

Gezzelig.

A half smile.

I feel grateful today and there is absolutely no reason for me to feel like this. I cried myself to sleep last night and then barely slept because I’ve a blocked nose and life hurt a bit and yet…

Sitting here on the ferry today heading to work, tired, messy, me, I feel like this life is something to be massively grateful for.

I am lucky in all I need comes to me. It’s not always graceful or sweet but no matter what an answer finds me. I am so completely blessed by all the people and experiences I’ve had right up until this moment.

It’s interesting to feel grateful when frankly I feel so rubbish. My mum reminded me last night of a couple of times in my life where it all felt like hell and how it was all ok in the end. She reminded me we may not know the end point but change is inevitable.

My mum’s infernal optimism drives me nuts sometimes because it can mean not listening and glossing over the facts but last night she heard me. And I heard her and was reminded it’s always just a moment and we’ve no idea what the next one will entail. No door needs be closed forever :)

So I’m grateful. Not happy exactly but grateful for this life. I’m must be feeling better in half smiling now.

Go easy: lessons from riding a bike up a hill.

Lol I make myself smile sometimes with the futility of what I persist in doing. I often ride my bike with my groceries or whatever up the hills near my house. Both are baby hills but it’s still an effort. For about a year I never bothered changing gears. It didn’t occur to me, random I know. Then a friend I was riding with, kindly pointed out the idiocy of my behaviour. ‘It’s why your bike has gears Jane, you know to be used’. Point taken.

Anyway I found a new route which doesn’t require carrying my bike up steps. It makes one of the hills longer but the ride is more fun. It’s a trade-off I can live with. Until recently however, every time I hit the hill I always went hard. I would completely tire myself out in my effort to get it over with, up the hill and home as soon as possible. I wanted the hill to be done. Sometimes I do that when I’m walking or swimming or driving. The feeling of just get me to my destination nowwww is one I’m a little familiar with.

This morning I was tired and for whatever reason I took it easy. I just didn’t push myself like I usually do. I started riding up the hill and I thought it’s not going to be over any quicker if I go harder. It’s the same distance, the same incline. So I decided to go with the moment and ride a lot more gently. The result? Same hill but a lot less grief riding up it. I kind of enjoyed it. It felt like being present.

So wow, a little reminder about being in the moment and patience for me today. It seems like there have been times in my life where I’ve felt I’ve wasted so much time waiting for something to happen. The reality is we’re never waiting anyway. It might feel like it, but the situation is changing whether we perceive it or not. It’s the nature of life.

I’ve missed the understanding going hard doesn’t necessarily mean choosing to be impatient or racing ahead. Going hard simply means immersing yourself in the experience and not holding back from the moment. To get where we need to go doesn’t need to be aggressive.

In fact to be open to the journey we definitely need to be a lot softer. So perhaps going hard is actually better described as going easy. Going with what is, in an organic way.

Let’s not get carried away though lol. I’ll never be the most patient girl on the planet, I’m a bit too cheeky and kid-like for that honour and I’m not yet awesome at waiting. I need to be taught a bit of patience once in a while ;)

Btw the model of my bike? It’s called the Go Easy. How can you not love that?!

One bed or different continents.

Ow. One bed can feel like two sides of a vast ocean when it’s all falling apart.

I don’t know why I remembered this but I remember my dog sleeping between us like Switzerland. When he was there we were there, but in summer when he went to sleep outside, it was just us, and it felt like we were on different continents. There was no beautiful bolster of fur and personality to anchor us. I clung to the edge of the mattress like a life-preserver while he stretched out.

In hindsight perhaps my dog could have slept out more. We’d have moved from Swiss to tiny African nation under attack a lot more quickly. Then again what does it matter? It was how it went down and now, as then, I know it all happened as it was meant to. Of course it did.

The bed? Amazing. A piece of furniture I loathed on sight but had no say in, as I wasn’t paying for it. It was like the metaphor of all we managed to get wrong. Two people with totally different expectations, in a bed with the same disparate ideology. Iron and wood and we dragged the bed across three states.

A huge mattress with enough room for two humans and a stretched out border collie. In the end it was a bed for me and the pup. A giant dog bed where we had half each and where I’d wake in the night and touch fur and be comforted. In the way human skin hadn’t afforded me comfort in a long time.

I love my bed now. It’s smaller and white and is the place of long nights and happy days. A bed I share very preciously and when I do I love it. A bed with a view through blinds I never close and the simplest design that takes nothing away from the fact I chose it and love it.

As usual, like everything I adore, it came to me :) I’d been looking at loads of beds, was over it and was about to buy a bed I sort of liked, when right near the check out was this one. Last one left, display, half price. Lol and I knew instantly this was my bed. A bit careworn, I think it had the gummy prints of three year olds, a rescue bed and so me. A bed for a beach house.

The day it was delivered I’d stayed out until 6 in the morning, so when I was putting it together, I was half drowsy and sliced my finger open. I didn’t love it any less for my loss of blood. In fact sleeping on it with my bandaged hand only made it all the sweeter.

This bed has never felt like a continent apart. It’s what a bed needs to be – comfort when I wake at 2am, a place to be shared and a place I can leave anyone asleep in while I go about my day. If I’m not here this bed offers sleep and peace to whoever lays here. It’s such a good place to dream and drink coffee and be silly and cause all sorts of mischief. It’s mine. A whole continent right here.