Newsflash: Tribe Found in South Pacific!

Hello there! Sorry its been a while, but something very exciting has been happening..

I was just reading through some old blog posts and found a post about desperately missing my “tribe”. And I still do, very much. But the very exciting and lovely thing is that I have found another. Another group of people who really care about me; who I am, what I think and how I feel. And, what is more, I have felt the joy of simply being myself with reckless abandon again.

Of course the curse of it all is that by its very nature this tribe is transitory – I am always having to let someone go, and soon enough they’ll have to say goodbye to me and the grief I already feel at some day having to leave this place will become palpable.

But for now, I love that people laugh with me, and occasionally at me; that my social calendar is almost too full; that I have several people who will gladly give me full body hugs n the street; that I have platonic husbands (and wives!) willing to go away on weekends and shoot the breeze for hours at a time about the kind of stuff that floats my boat.

Friendship is truly transformative and I have a renewed perspective on life that I am entirely grateful for.

So if I say this is wonderful, believe me when I also say that my heart longs for my friends and family at home who get me and love me in a way that has provided the strength and foundation for this experience as well.

It strikes me that my cup of friendship runneth over – and I can only hope that I can give back to the people I love – the rich gifts I receive.

In short. I love yous all.

Inspired to Dream!

Check out this awesome book!

It has inspired me to dream the biggest dreams I can imagine... all over again!

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Clarity

Clearly, Paulo Coelho can say in one line what it took me a whole blog post to clumsily articulate:

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dream.”

yep, that's pretty much it.

A word about me

I think I’d almost always rather try something and be a spectacular failure – than not try it and settle for mediocrity.

Having said that, I need to clarify 2 things so I don’t sound like an uber- hypocrite.

The first is that I actually have nothing against mediocrity; most of us are spectacularly mediocre at most things and it ought to be embraced. If we spend our lives trying to excel at everything – we are bound to overshoot and end up disappointed most of the time. Which is also not to say we shouldn’t shoot for quality experiences – or that we shouldn’t be mindful in our interactions, its just to say that there are bound to be particular ways in which our time and our skills can be best maximized in life rather than be spread thin as an oil slick.

The second thing I need to clarify is that I am a crap goal setter and of course have not attempted to do all the things I have, at various times dreamed for myself. If I had shot for the moon on everything I’d be playing wembley stadium tonight (or at least the Tivoli); I’d be launching a novel or appearing on Parkinson… so yeah its perhaps true that mediocrity is a relative concept and that I have hidden out in my own version of it too.

What I think I’m really talking about is the fact that when I know something IS right for me, and I am scared to death to do it – I would rather follow my instincts and jump than stay living safely on the precipice with the view of my possible future always in sight but just out of reach. To be honest I feel like there are plenty of occasions on which I have gritted my teeth, steeled my jaw , taken a deep breath and plunged head-long into the breach in the name of my own sanity; in the name of what was truly important to me; in the name of walking my own path. It hasn’t always been a comfortable experience. Sometimes its been scary as hell. Sometimes it has been against the will, advice and support of those closest to me – who I would never want to hurt or harm. But it has always been the right thing to do.

Each of us has one thousand lives inside us; one thousand possible paths to tread. Sometimes when we think we are taking a fork of the road that will take us far away from the place we are currently standing, we find in fact that it leads us right back to where we are, because that’s where we are meant to be.

Sometimes, it feels like the most selfish act in the world to be true to myself – to that invisible magnetic force that pulls me inexorably to the future I am supposed to have. In fact it is the most selfless act I have in my arsenal. I can’t be true to anyone else if I can’t be true to me.

I can’t say I never struggle with decisions and I can’t say I always know that the plunge I am taking is definitively correct. But I can say that I have never regretted living my truth – and that I have regretted decisions made in fear. All I can do is learn from those patterns.

Right now I have some decisions to make and they feel like they will be some of the most definitive of my life. Maybe they won’t. All I know is that I am approaching a fork in the road and not even the various paths are clear yet – but what I can say is that the more I tune into myself, the more I trust I will know the right path when I see it. And I am making a promise to myself that I will walk it – even if its steep and I can’t see round the bend.

Hazy Hours at the edge of the Universe

Twice now I have personally witnessed the birth of a child. On both occasions my younger sister has given me the very great privilege of accompanying her through the hazy hours on the edge of the universe where women go to do this amazing thing they do.

My nephew was born 40 years to the day after my older sister was born. For my own mother, also present at the birth of her Grandson, this must have been an amazing marvel and I have to say some of the tears I shed after our gorgeous lad’s appearance were for my mum – who took that journey alone all those years ago. No sister held her hand; no mother was allowed in the room; no husband could witness the miracle. Only a crisply starched nurse held her hand as she gathered her strength to push life into the world. How things have changed for the better!

One of my clearest childhood memories is the day my younger sister was born. I was so excited as we crowded around her cot to welcome her to our lives. Pretty much every day since she has given me cause to marvel at her creativity and her strength. Sometimes, even when she seems at her most vulnerable – she digs reserves from somewhere and she brings beauty forth from pain.

No matter what I do in this life – it will never come close to that. But at least I was there to hold her hand and for that I will be forever thankful .

The Easter Message

I actually love going to Church on Easter Sunday. I love responding to the minister’s proclamation “Christ is risen!” with a resounding “He is risen indeed!”

And it’s not because I am a firm believer in Christ or the Judeo Christian philosophies – it’s because these Easter themes of loss and re-birth and renewal are universal and because hope, more than any other emotion should be celebrated and its joy and promise shouted from the rooftops.

I think about this stuff every Easter – but there’s no better time to be thinking about redemption and renewal than when you’re waiting for a baby to be born. And that’s exactly what I am doing right now; waiting. My sister’s second child is due imminently and we’re all coaxing it out by our sheer will.

So what exactly, this Easter needs to be cast away? To be let go of? And what needs to be turned over into the soil of my life providing fertile ground for renewal?

That my friends, is the money question. In recent times, I’ve never felt as great an urge as I feel now to push away from the shore – to cast off just about all the vestments of my former life and begin again. How exciting that would be in many ways.

I think of my sister bringing on new life and envy her the opportunity she has to explore again the duality of parental life; the opportunity to at once be your self and fulfil your own desires and yet also invest so heavily in the “invention” of another. I watch my friends beginning new relationships or reinvigorating old ones and I envy them their opportunity to reinvent themselves by being seen through someone else’s eyes. I think of my young, idealistic friends in Honiara and envy them their life before them; uncharted and full of promise.

And I think I want all of this and none of it. I want it all because I want to embrace renewal and rebirth and the freedom of starting with a clean slate – and I want none of it because I want at once both freedom from my past and the opportunity to turn the sum of my experiences back into my soul-soil and to finally learn their lessons.

But these things really are at the heart of the Easter message. A clean slate is ours every day if we want it. We forgive and are forgiven, we learn, we move on. It’s the forgiveness that’s the key. Whether of ourselves or others.

In the Christian story of Easter, Christ’s family and followers rolled the stone away from his grave and found him gone. Before ascension could be known and celebrated, first there was grief and a great test of faith. For me, rolling the stone away this Easter means embracing what must first be lost to ever be found again. I have to forgive myself the thousand errors of judgement that have lead me down the path I find myself on and yet simultaneously celebrate and have faith in my choices.

It’s a long time since I’ve swung on monkey bars but I reckon Easter is a bit like that; the moment of greatest fear and exhilaration is the dark moment – hanging with one hand - right before something solid and known can be grasped. Just like the birthing process I am about to accompany my sister through. And writing that, she has just appeared to say her waters have broken… He is risen indeed!

If I Had a Hammer...

Warning – the following blog post is a completely revealing insight into my human frailty and base sense of humour.

Lately, every conversation I have is about sex. I’m not really that surprised; I talk about it a lot anyway so go ahead and add months and months of suppressed sexual identity and no prospect of an “encounter” or relationship and you have a recipe for … well to be frank and fairly uncouth – whatever the female equivalent of “blue balls” might be.

Just today, I was skyping with a good friend and we were joking about the fact that I mentioned I was on a boat trip and while out on the ocean was contemplating life and what prospects I had in my near future for “getting a bit”. She said “I get it.. big blue ocean.. who can I fuck?” and I said yeah big blue ocean, who can I fuck?... tall tree who can I fuck?... red car, who can I fuck?... empty beer can, who can I fuck?.. Oh yes, the situation is terminal.

Terminal because I can’t escape it; what’s that old saying?.. For someone with a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. Well I’ve got a big old hammer and everything- all my memories, past relationships, current interactions, chance encounters – everything – looks like a nail that either fuels the fire or explains why I have no fire to fuel!

I’m thinking meditation is the only answer. But, you know, it’s not the ONLY answer. It’s just the answer to avoid what some other answers might be – because clearly I have poor judgement in this area; clearly my big old hammer has gotten me in some trouble in the past; clearly I cannot be trusted with the hammer and need to miraculously turn it into something far less forceful and energetic and much more zen, like a feather. OK, very bad analogy.

If only I would use my energy for good and not evil.

Perhaps I will go and do some yoga – yes that way whilst I am calming my mind and walking the middle path I am also training my body to be a pretzel. One never knows when that might come in handy…