I love children – they give me an excuse to let my inner child loose.

Not that I need an excuse. I just wanted to create an octopus playing with a snail and the play-doh had my name all over it. Hanging out with a wonderfully creative four year old got me all inspired to mush all the colours together and top him off with blue hair.

There’s something quite cathartic about not wanting or expecting something to be perfect in design or functionality, let alone real. And there is something quite extraordinary in observing a child make something completely from the imagination.

Here’s some instructions to make your own gooey clump of non-toxic dough for you to experiment and create.

It’s guaranteed fun for kids of all ages. What do you dare create from the depths of your imagination?

you bloody ripper!

Last week I realised yesterday was a public holiday to commemorate the eight hour work day. As I’m struggling doing any work at the moment, thought it an ideal opportunity to celebrate by doing no work. It was time to rewire the frazzle of the past few months to ensure all connectors were back in the right place.

It’s been a while since I took a road trip. The only reason I keep my car is so I can take road trips on the odd occasion. Parked in the drive for most of the year, it provides me with a permanent sense of freedom, only a key turn away.

After my last gig of ‘helping’ on Sunday morning, I headed out to the Kinglake National Park. I’d never been there before, and with 98% of the park destroyed during the Black Saturday fires, I had no idea what I would find. All I knew is there would be fresh air, space, regrowth and a chance for phase one rewiring to commence.

There’s nothing like that first breath of eucalypt forest to clear out the dust that has settled due to long gaps between escapes. As it was almost time for the sun to set, on arriving in Kinglake, it was time for a quick meal before heading deep into the Robertson State Forest for an elusive (and probably illegal) camping spot.

There is one part of the daily cycle that never fails to disappoint when you are in the country: it’s city cousin can never compete in the magic of a night sky. Tonight I felt in true awe of the power nature has to energise, reform and bring back from the dead. As I sat on the barren earth, I observed the new life pushing its way through the blackened trunks of a forest that had died, resurrecting itself into a maze of new life sprouting from any where it could find. The moon looked like it was swathed in a deep orange velvet cloak, ready to entertain the million sequinned dinner guests, and one willing observer.

There are more important things than what people do each day. Rewiring phase one complete.

Awaking refreshed the next morning, it was time for a walk. Unfortunately, most of the tracks and camping areas have not been rebuilt since the fires. Heading into Kinglake National Park, there was a small 3.5km track open to the peak of Mt Sugarloaf. Not exactly a 2000m plus mountain I was used to climbing, nonetheless, I threw on my boots and headed off to conquer Sugarloaf.

The view from the ridge of a sea of blackened trunks gave a clear indication of the extent of the fires. As I opened the air vents in my hiking pants and sat on a burned log, I closed my eyes and felt the power of nature’s force. On opening, I reflected on that force emulating the struggles of all humanity and the desire to not be destroyed, to co-exist, to survive, to create miracles.

When you find yourself in a dark place, if you wait for a while and listen, you will find yourself again. We are all born with the ability to create new life and survive. Rewiring phase two complete.

After waving at Melbourne in the distance, I began to head down the same path when I hit a crossroads. On investigation, I decided the awkwardly placed red tape and ‘this track is currently under restoration’ didn’t really tell me not to enter. Besides, as I too was under restoration, perhaps we could both test out how much we both needed work by a moderate – difficult 6.5km shared journey. The worst that could happen was I give up and head back to the top and hitch a ride down to the base of the mountain. Having broken my cardinal rule of always carrying enough water, I was more worried about the 100ml left in the bottle. So I opted for the tortoise and a slow and steady pace to win the race.

Three hours later, I hit the bottom carpark. I passed no one. I meditated for 20 minutes at the base of the valley surrounded by blackened trees on either side. I crossed paths with Mountain Creek, and on dipping in my fingers and meeting a surprisingly warm sensation, walked for 100m, stripped off and lay in the water for half an hour under the rays of a warming autumn sun. I was glad the ferns were reconquering land that had been theirs for centuries, I could shout out loud and feel so insignificantly powerful in a new landscape created by significant force.

Take the unknown path: treasures await the willing explorer. You know from where you came. You will not know what you could find unless you step forth. Rewiring phase three complete.

After a very sweaty afternoon of 10km of hills and climbs, with the sun only having another 1 ½ hours of light, it was time to head to the only re-opened National Parks camp site in the area: the Gums. I’d read it was by a mountain stream, and with ½ hour of driving, it was time to head straight there and hopefully get in an evening bathe under the rays of the setting sun.

With no one else at the site, and having spent a day immersed in the power of nature, who was I not to get back to nature in its most simple form. Stepping into the freezing mountain stream, I found a spot to safely sit and convey my deepest thanks for a cleansing day of country air, silence broken only by the chorus of birds creating a symphony of shrills, the aching thighs and empty mind.

Nature has a way of stripping you bare. Rewiring complete.

You bloody ripper!

Today I helped with eight hours of admin. Soul-destroying crossed my lips. Not that I begrudged helping to get a much needed job done. It was just I’ve been doing that a bit lately and I really need to start getting on to what I need to do. Time to start asking for some of my own help.

You see, I’ve spent my time writing million dollar budgets and executing them. I’ve managed staff, I’ve done deals, I’ve been a million dollar sales consultant and I’ve dined with prime-ministers. What I’ve learned in 40 years, is that I don’t want, nor need, to work in an environment that is not conducive to my Purpose. Or has no purpose.

Right now, it’s a little tough as my Purpose doesn’t really align with making any money, hence the need to do some soul-destroying admin. Okay, perhaps I need to rephrase it to admin with purpose and the daily grind may not cause me so much angst.

And what’s this about Purpose? For me, it is working at a grassroots level. And it has a lot to do with the developing world. When I reflect on my life and the plethora of experiences that have made an indelible mark on my soul, it is the times I have had my hands dirty in piles of rubbish, building houses where there once were hammocks, where no tourists travel, where courage and survival co-exist… these are the times that have brought me most joy, internal and external.

Next week, I am pitching for entry into a 10 month mentoring program for a small vision that has the potential to create huge impact. It’s finally my turn to start asking for help: mentoring, marketing, finances and legals. The greatest request will simply be asking people to help turn on the light in Bangladesh.

Having travelled extensively around the world, I agree there is a lot to be said for education programs. However, when the reality is there are no jobs, basic survival needs some redirected focus placed on it. Since being told three years ago by a group of women in Barisal, Bangladesh (the ones in the picture) that all they wanted was light, I’m on a mission to set up a solar light micro-finance distribution centre back in Barisal, then to other areas of Bangladesh. No need to stop there: light is a valuable resource that can make a huge difference across the globe, and that darn kerosene just ain’t no good for anyone, or the planet!

This journey is still in planning phase, and with a desire to head over in monsoon season to produce an expose on the power of light, there’s quite a bit of admin to be done.

I’ve pulled together a few of my photographs from some of my journeys through Bangladesh, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam and China to get people thinking about how light is one of our most undervalued resources.

So on with planning, finding people to help and creating. I just have to remember it’s admin with purpose. The greater Purpose lies ahead.

you bloody ripper!

Have you ever met a person that lives life exactly the way they want to? A person who thrives on fun, generosity, health and constantly inspires others in their ability to exude pure joy in the pursuit of pleasure and experience?

Nic is one of those people. He makes people smile. He makes people believe they can do anything.

Critically injured in a kite boarding incident, Nic has severe head injuries and has been placed in an induced coma. This is where I ask for your help.

It would be really bloody ripper if you could send a positive thought to help pull him through. Healing energy does work, and along with the thoughts of his family, friends, anyone who has ever been inspired by him (me included) and your small thoughts of positive healing, Nic will continue to prove life is for living. He’d be going crazy doing nothing.

Repeat after me: “Nic, you really will hate the hospital food when you wake up. There’s much to be done, so get up and on with it. Positive vibes, healing and love heading your way”.

There is power in the mass.

you bloody ripper! (with your help)

Quite a few months ago, I helped a friend build her website. I didn’t ask for anything in return, because I’m kind of used to saying yes.

When my friend handed over an envelope, I was totally bowled over with the thank you of a trip to the only traditional Japanese bath house in Melbourne.

Recently in decluttering mode, I found the forgotten voucher. As it was added to the ‘must use now’ pile, I added it to today’s to do list to make the appointment.

The exciting thing is, tomorrow, I’m getting naked. I’m not worried about the excess Divine dark chocolate with raspberries I have been devouring. Nor, the big, blue bruise on my arse from a slip on the wet grass. I’m just so darn excited about an hour in the hot water, a full body scrub and a very much needed shiatsu massage, I could do cartwheels on the front lawn without caring how many bruises I end up with.

And to add to my excitement, when I pulled out the voucher to put in my bag for tomorrow, I jumped up and down because in the morning I will have to call them and extend the massage – 1.5 hours of pure blissful relaxation and a long overdue rebalance.

If it’s traditional, I had better kick back in true Japanese style. I’m already daydreaming of finishing up for an hour curled up in a kimono and slippers on the tatami mats, surrounded by tranquil bamboo and water, listening to music, sipping on a few glasses of sake and nibbling a few wasabi peas.

Time out is well overdue in my life. There’s been too much ‘yes, I’ll help’ coming out of my mouth. Injuries. Sanity (or lack of). Life getting in the way.

I am excited. At 12.00pm tomorrow, I switch to 100% time out mode. The water will be heated to a nice warm 40 degrees. There’ll be a nice pair of cotton pjs waiting for me, a tatami mat with my name on it and a warming sake (or two) to sip and savour.

I’m getting all warm and fuzzy just thinking about stepping into Japan and out of life for 3 1/2 hours.

Go on… book yourself a treat. I can guarantee the anticipation this side of time out oozes

you bloody ripper!

I keep seeing all these tweets with the #b03 hashtag. Kicked off by Steve Hopkins, it is challenging people to write anywhere on the web, once every day for the entire month of March.

I definitely wouldn’t count myself as a bandwagon whore; infact I usually head the other way from the school of fish all swimming in the same direction. But considering this one could get me to start writing again, I’m jumping onboard before it whizzes past me and leaves a trail of dust.

I haven’t been writing because it’s just been too darn frustrating due to the serious fog that needs clearing in my brain. I’m hoping that reforming a habit of writing regularly, may just create a blower effect. Fingers crossed.

I can’t really do much work. And I fear my school is going to get an application for a leave of absence anytime soon. So for the remainder of March, I’m going to focus on what I love best – the every day bloody rippers that make us smile, even when we have serious brain fog…. and life could otherwise suck.

This challenge could either go two ways:

1. I’m not one to give up, but this is going to be a tough task. What would normally take five minutes will take 30. What I normally do with ease, will be blended with a whole lot of frustration. I’ve already written a swarm of fish instead of school. I’ll have to edit, re-edit, cross things out and start all over again. It’s like all my filing cabinets filled with words have been relocated. I’m hoping the removalist brings them back soon. There’s some important data in there. If it all gets too frustrating, I’ll have no option but to jump off the bandwagon, do a roll and tumble, shake off the dirt and head off to find something else to do.
2. Second option is to persevere. I began this blog when I needed to focus on the positive after some big fat skeleton popped out of a closet. From someone who has written since she was five, I have already accepted, that little of what I write this month will be up for any big award. Probably none of it. So the option to just keep on writing, no matter if it’s simply a word, is still a commitment to the challenge.

What could be worst than a bandwagon whore for a month? Thinking I can’t write and abandoning two things that turn me on: writing and bloody rippers? Or not giving something a go, even if you fail.

So I’ve drawn my habit calendar and by the end of March, I’m looking for one big straight line from 03 to 31.

In my life, it’s never been about laying down and giving up, no matter how fucking hard things get. And this time around, it’s not even about putting on the boxing gloves and fighting my way through. It’s about acknowledging there is a problem Houston, and doing my best to go with it, as best I can.

So I am blasting off into the #b03 challenge.

I always thought it was a good idea to make friends with your enemies.

What could be better than trying to get them on your side.

You bloody ripper!

Welcome into my life 2012. I’m planning for you to herald in a new season of battles few and pleasures many.

I’m the first to admit that 2011 didn’t go exactly as planned and I wouldn’t particularly rate it as momentous. I’d committed myself to stay focussed on centre this year, and for the second half of the year, I did. I’ve never really done that before and what a rollercoaster ride it set me on. Yes, you can. No, you can’t. I got things wrong. I dodged curve balls. I forgot about relevance and calibrated.The pictures at the end of the ride would have showcased one loud scream: get me off.

So before I rush off from last year, forget about it, and move on by writing a big long list of all the things I’d like to do this year, I felt a little need to recognise what did happen.

So in no particular order, here goes my 2011 bloody ripper wrap up from which to boldly take ten key lessons with me into the new year.

1. Learned how to say no

No and I have never had an easy relationship. It’s pretty easy to say and yet I’ve always had a problem getting it out. When I realised mid-year that I was in a job I didn’t apply for, saying yes too many times and no to everything I wanted to do, it was time to say a very fervent no, not just to the job, but to all that wasn’t taking me in the direction I wished to head. I realised I had yes exhaustion and really had to learn the meaning, and benefits, of no. I think I’m getting there. I’ve said no to lots of events, requests and people these past six months. I even told worry to fuck off. Saying no to others allows one to proclaim yes to self.

2. Went to university

I’ve never been to university. Work, life and opportunity always seemed to have got in the way. This year, I decided I wanted to learn a new skill I could take with me anywhere and allow me to make some money so I could commit to my writing.  In the second half of the year, I was so busy saying yes to myself that I realised I was doing two Diplomas and a Masters in Wellness. As well as working. And attempting to write. Woah. Apart from needing to get a little balance on the yes/no relationship, I realised that I loved to learn. It helped the studies had purpose, and not just because I needed a job out of school. Never be too old to stop asking why.

3. Love… actually…

It’s not happened very often in my life when I see someone from a distance and their energy makes me want to meet them. And meet them I do. I recall him saying “it will be fun”. I remember walking away from that offer and one hour later, grieving and writing condolences for my loss of spontaneity and randomness. Eight months later, that person is still in my life. He doesn’t need to be in my life every day. I don’t need to know his every movement. To close the open hand is hard. Love… actually… is a deep respect  for another human being that simply allows them to be themselves. To not expect them to be someone else. For then they would not be the one you love… actually… accept others for who they are, because of what they bring.

4. Completed a mission

My mission is detailed in Chapter 39.95, its success here. After riding around on the back of a motorbike for half a day, I managed to meet Nyoman, the moto driver, Ketut, his daughter and her baby son.  Whilst looking at the family photo album, Ketut brought me another book with a photograph of her prior to the operation, and my Dad. Nyoman started to cry, dug into his pocket and pulled out the driver’s license I had earlier returned, passing it back into my hands. “I miss your Daddy. He is a good man. You tell your Daddy to come and find me, like you found me.” Closure provides a door waiting to be opened.

5. Failures and demons

Like most years, I learned a lot in 2011. When I decided to go it alone, I learned how much better I am doing things for other people and not myself. I’ve learned I’m my own worst enemy. I’m far too independent. I admit I procrastinate when I sit in a room by myself. I confess I have let people down and am not afraid of sending out the apologies. I’ve dug out a few skeletons, brushed off a few chips and am still working on a few demons. I’ve said I’d do things. And didn’t. My hand is up high. No one is perfect. Everyone grows.  

6. Dancing and exercise

Thanks to my local council, I opted in for a ten week outdoor exercise program at my local park. Thanks to some wonderful friends, I stuck a second hand up for some Nia dance lessons. Over the last couple of months in the year, I’ve pedalled, swum, run, boxed, tapped, walked and squatted. Now the classes have finished, I miss it. My body and mind miss the adrenalin, stress relief, meditation and feeling of knowing I’d pushed just enough. Push some more.

7. Asked for help

It didn’t matter the request came back negative. I asked. Ask again.

8. Sketching

I never thought I could draw. After picking up a pencil mid-way through the year, quite often I’ll be found curled up on a couch or under a tree with a sketch book. A few people have suggested they’re not too bad and I should take lessons to learn a few finer skills. I thought about it. I won’t. I like being one with an image and a blank canvas. It’s my meditation. I don’t need to seek perfection. Love what you do. Do what you love. Love what YOU love.

9. Climbed a volcano

It wasn’t a momentous year, but it nailed a momentous 40^th birthday. With my yes exhaustion, I decided to head to Bali for some rest and relaxation. A few weeks out, I was determined to find myself a challenge to complete: and a 3100m volcano had my name on it. Commencing the ascent at 1.00am on the morning of my birthday, I climbed with the only female guide on the mountain. One foot in front of the other, a small headlamp beam providing the only glimpses of tropical growth and volcanic rock. The moon was hidden, and the hope of a magic sunrise slowly retreated as rain began its unwelcome fall. I had done a month’s half-hearted training before leaving Australia and spent the two days prior to climbing wandering around the hills of Bali’s central region.

One foot in front of the other. I was exhausted. Fear had crossed my path countless times. “Tina, we have 800m to go. It is the most difficult part of the climb. When you are ready we will go”. It was then I sat down and cried. An accumulation of fear swept through me: the fear I had felt as I’d slipped down a wall of loose rocks, the fear of coming down in the morning when it was light and seeing the vastness below me, my legs that could hardly move, the fear of again having to push myself, myself. “I can’t do it.” And I cried some more. “It is up to you Tina. You came here for a reason and it is your choice if you achieve that reason.”

Damn it. As the tears continued to fall, I began to laugh. I realised what I’d put people through. I realised the belief I have had in others, but never myself. I’d never climbed a mountain by myself. I didn’t like it. “There’s a boiled birthday egg to be had on top of that mountain. Let’s go.” Those shear rock walls that weren’t walked but free climbed, in the pitch darkness, were totally insane. I got there. To an unbelievable sunrise. I believe I can fly.

10. My biggest regret

This year I retreated – online and offline. In a world of information overload, I felt the necessity to step back and find more wisdom from within. As a creative person who has spent a good working lifetime helping others with creative ideas for their projects, apart from this blog and my new found appreciation of pencils, I have neglected to explore my creativity in the pursuit of my own projects. Two weeks ago, when I asked for help (and remember I got a no), I sat down and thought if my last test results weren’t so good and I was looking at a terminal illness, what would I regret? I went back to my ten things of value. Without hesitation, I answered that question. I thank my withdrawal for allowing me the space to be influenced by self. As much as I love my study, I’ve deferred the majority of my studies for next year. It’s time.

Now that’s all out in the air, it’s time for my 2012 resolutions

1. Get on with it!

you bloody ripper!

Blank page. Strange considering the thousands of thoughts wandering my brain – space, freedom, and silence have a tendency of doing that. It is New Year’s Eve after all: a time for reflection, resolution and promises.

What makes 01 January such a special day? Why is it that this day provides us with an excuse to make change, be a better person, remove old habits, release old pain and plan new beginnings? Is tomorrow just another day, like the other 364? Isn’t every moment the beginning of the rest of our life?

Having spent the last five days appreciating the fresh air, tranquility and beauty of the Australian Alps, I have enjoyed not only the visual space the mountains provide, but the space to lose oneself in selfish retrospection, appreciation for all that is strong and belief that within us all, lays a powerful spirit that when unleashed, can move mountains.

Having walked 37km over a couple of days and with the final 22km walk to the peak of Victoria’s second highest mountain still on the agenda, there has been plenty of time to dispel redundant thoughts with each step. It’s why I came. To allow oneself the opportunity to feel insignificant amongst the momentous, certainly helps to put things into perspective.

Three days ago, I stood at the 1897m peak of Mt Loch and surveyed the dots below indicating ski huts, hotels, lodges and people. I fully appreciated the power of self and reflected on the insignificance of the dots that follow us through our lives: the patterns, the stories, the broken lines, the inability to recognise, the beauty reduced to a chaotic sketch where nothing is clear.

As I turned 360, I saw the peak of Feathertop beckoning my footsteps to greet it. In its exposed face, reflected the challenges, obstacles, shadows, scars and pain of my own life. As I allowed myself to reconnect with the familiarity of the physical and emotional qualities of any demanding journey, I was also reminded of the courage, perseverance, commitment and ultimate reward of one step at a time.

As I began to write this story, I thought its message would be the need for us to dismiss the insignificant from our lives – the dots, the stories, the fuzzy lines, the small stuff. But as I sit in the comfort of my lodge and look across the valley to the same peak I felt so powerful on reaching, my view, once again, has turned 360. You see, I now need the binoculars to clearly identify the peak. Yes, the same peak that made me feel powerful, courageous and committed, is now merely an insignificant dot in the distance.

I have always been one to focus on my successes, to strive for success, to push myself to extreme limits, both to prove to myself and others that I can climb mountains. However, looking back at the mountain right now, I realize that all that has been small in my life has also been a big part of shaping the person that I have become. For the first time in years, I have an overwhelming sense of serenity.

From 2004 to 2006, I took a sabbatical from the normality of life, finding total fulfillment in a journey that not only allowed me to travel the world, but an inner journey that brought me total joy, inner peace, fun, freedom and a new found belief in self. On returning to Australia and moving to a new city, I felt lost in the vastness of an energy that pushes away rather than attracts. Not to say I didn’t have some wonderful friends, but I also found myself unable to deeply connect with anyone – I was trying to fit in to a world that I did not.

And so for the past three years while overcoming illness, removing demons, shaking monkeys and reconnecting with myself, I have also been forever hopeful of a magical answer, a potion of solution, perhaps even a person of strength to come into my life and provide a cure to fill all that was missing.

The last year has been particularly difficult: the emotion, the people, the decisions, the lack of action, the failure, the circumstance. Three months ago, I was on the verge of emotional, physical and financial exhaustion. Never had I felt so alone, uncertain of the direction in which to take my life, a deep sense of sadness for the lack of family in my life, the lack of balance and my profound desire for community and connection.

At a point of absolute desperation, I took myself away to a place of healing and painfully dissected all that had held me back, caused me pain and given me courage. I battled with myself like never before, but instead of heavy scars, found myself adorned with a sense of new direction and inner peace. My life has turned 360, and I finally feel I have reached my own peak.

I began this story with the aim of erasing the dots scattered throughout the past 38 years. However, sitting in the safety and comfort of what was a dot three days ago, appreciate that they can and do, in the future, provide us with comfort, safety and fond memories.

Looking back at the mountain, I recognise that we need to enjoy and place value on the small things and realise the significance they do and will play in our lives. We also need to have commitment and resilience to overcome challenges and not be afraid to push through the pain in order to achieve success and the rewards that are granted once we reach the peak. Even our angst, darkest moments, concerns and deepest fears are significant. They form part of who we are and without them, we would not learn to fully appreciate the greatest joys, loves and moments in our lives. Our life would be filled with the ordinary rather than an opportunity for the extraordinary to exist, even in a single moment.

I am committed to climb all mountains I may find myself at the base of, but I no longer feel the necessity to do it with everything in my life – there is no need to prove to anyone anymore, especially myself. I am no longer afraid to open up the dots that form my life to those who bring meaning to my life: the significance and impact they have had are just as important as any mountains I have climbed.

I finally understand that what may give us strength today, may not exist tomorrow. What may at one point in our life, allow us to feel the might and power of success and completion, may be insignificant tomorrow. I comprehend there is no longer need to attach myself to the meaning or irrelevance of mountains or dots.

Too often we stand, paintbrush in hand, with the ability to design our life with all the colour, acquisitions and accomplishments we desire. Is there not as much, if not more pleasure in, the sharing of the journey, the value of our thoughts, the sensations that arise, the blending of the hues? Perhaps small dots compared to the consequence of attainment, but definitely necessary to experience and appreciate if we are to ever create balance in our lives.

The strength gained from the depths of depression can be as powerful as an 1897m climb. The significance of a glance, a touch, a simple word, the sharing of thought can be just as meaningful as a wedding portrait.

As I look out the window at a sun setting not only on this day, but on one difficult year, I have no desire to be a better person, ask for anything, release anything, remove any habits or plan any new beginnings. After many years trying to find it, I am merely thankful to have come to the realisation that balance in one’s life exists within us every day. It is simply a matter of perspective.

you bloody ripper

written New Years Eve 2009

Today I came across an old story I wrote on my last big travel trip to Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam and Bangladesh, 2.5 years ago. Here it goes:

My mum asked me yesterday, ¨are you enjoying your trip?¨

I certainly have a purpose for being here, but it certainly isn´t to enjoy. Having been to Cambodia in a previous life as a tour leader, I have seen the main tourist sites many times. I´ve enjoyed myself – hanging out in the hammocks at my favourite sunset bar, helping the locals plant rice, celebrating birthdays, house warmings and weddings, eating too much (do I count tarantulas and crickets as enjoyable), drawing with the children, laughing.

But this time I am seeing a side of Cambodia that as a tourist, you never have the opportunity to experience. Why would you seek out the slums, brothels, walk the streets at night and visit communes exuding extreme levels of poverty from every square inch.

The landscape on this trip is not so much the palaces, the temples, the wats or the countryside. Instead, it is an emotional landscape that has taken me on my own journey of reflection, appreciation, sadness, pride and joy. I have come to appreciate how, no matter how bad things can get in one´s life, that as human beings, we are strong. We can survive. And there will be opportunities presented to us that we can grab with both hands and create change in our lives.

Anyone who knows me, knows that I embrace life, and understands that I certainly don´t intend on living an idle life. There is too much to learn. Too much to experience. Life is a whole, it is a privilege and it provides us with a unique opportunity to find purpose.

I certainly haven´t always been like this. In fact, quite the opposite. However, I have travelled through a transition period and feel I am finally coming out the other side. I have been thinking about how I have changed, and I believe it is simply that I have taken responsibility for my life. The biggest opponent I have faced in the past has certainly been myself, but I now feel that I am no longer taking the corner option, but going into the ring with the fists ready to fight and to embrace whatever punches are thrown.

To others, I probably have an irrational level of optimism. I lack ordinary resentments and regrets – they waste too much time. There is no point in thinking that change cannot occur, for even in worst case scenarios – there is hope. Even here, in the depths of no hope, there is potential, there are gloves. I have seen it in the slums, the brothels, the communes.

Take Salin. At 19, she is the head of her family supporting her grandmother and four brothers – 19, 14, 12 and 5. Both of her parents died with Aids, leaving Salin with the responsibilities of income earner, cook, educator, gardener and head of her family. I first met Salin when visiting Chupvary, a remote village in north-west Cambodia. She has been embraced by the Hope Project and provided with an opportunity to learn sewing skills and be a part of a project providing uniforms to a number of schools in Phnom Penh. After a full day sewing, Salin heads home to prepare the dinner, work in the garden and care for her brothers and grandmother. Prior to being involved with the Hope Project, there was little hope and no opportunity for Salin. But now there are smiles. This is not about pity. This is about positive change and the provision of opportunity.

Salin´s story is not unique. Everyone here has a story – the Khmer Rouge ensured that the majority of families have a legacy of loss and hardship.

But as I walk around this new landscape, I can see the gloves coming out. I can see the hard work, the desire to win and the heads held high when victory is theirs.

For the organisations providing the gloves, theirs is a continual battle to educate, both foreigners and locals, about choices as much as it is about providing opportunity. A mother will earn more sending out her child to beg or sell books to the tourists than if she learned a new skill and sold the end product. Try and convince a mother to send her child to school and learn how to make handbags herself when double can be made with the child on the streets, all night. But what will happen when the child grows up? No more pity from the foreigners. No more income. And the cycle begins again.

No mum. This trip hasn´t been enjoyable. But it has been a remarkable journey and I can´t wait to hear about the next bout as I experience a night on the streets speaking with the children and hearing about what they want and how we can help, like Salin, in providing them some gloves so that they can go into their future with their own fists, ready to fight.

How has this story from the past, inspired me? My attempt at making a difference in the past failed. And not because I didn’t have the passion. It failed as I don’t do passive giving very well. And it took me a while for that realisation to kick me in the guts.

Finding this story reminded me that tangible giving definitely needs to be included in my planning and goals in the future. I need to get my hands dirty. I like a little sweat on my brow. And we all know sweat doesn’t happen without a little bit of hard work.

If you dare look, the past can provide inspiration to propel you into the future. What inspires you? What lights you up – inside and out? What provides you with purpose? Find those answers and instil them into your goals and daily life.

I don’t need a new year to inspire me. Sometimes the past can be the greatest source of inspiration from which to create. For it reminds us what we need to do…

you bloody ripper!

As part of my Masters in Wellness, I’ve been doing a few activities on finding meaning. Activities that encourage you to think deeper about the big questions: who am I, why am I here, where am I going, what am I doing with my life, what do I want, what is real?

On reading the first activity I had to do, I thought it would be simple.

Supposing that you needed to escape from where you presently live, and could take only ten things that you currently have, what would they be?

Considering most things I own can be found in two rooms, five minutes is all I would need. The question was pretty vague and for all I knew, I could have ended up in Disneyland and had the time of my life for a day before ending back in my two rooms.

I began to scan room one. Slowly, one item was added to the list only to be crossed off when something more ‘valuable’ to my unknown future was identified.

I assumed I was wearing clothes when I escaped, so I didn’t even bother considering my wardrobe. I’ve arrived in places before with nothing and always managed to rebuild, so it was easy to remove half of what I could see from the consideration list. It was then I found myself reflecting on my life to give each item its ‘value’ on which to make the decision if it stays or if it goes.

So how did the final list shape up – one hour later?

• Passport
• Good hiking boots
• Voice recorder
• Sketch and note book
• Pencils
• Sarong
• An album of all the important people and a few key milestones from my life
• Visa travel card with $200 on it
• 20 year old backpack
• Pocket knife

Could I survive with just these ten items and the clothes I left with?

It was an interesting exercise to undertake as my list didn’t end up being about survival. From my experiences of meeting people in some of the most poverty stricken countries on our planet, I believe most of the items we need for survival are not so much physical but traits such as strength, courage, creativity and perseverance.

My list therefore came down to those items which would help support me through any experience: war zone to Disneyland. The backpack allowed me to have space to carry more things I may find/be given on the way and give me a good pair of shoes and I can walk for weeks. I had a little bit of cash for an emergency/bribery/border crossings and figured that I also had skills that could help me in raising some $ or to barter for a roof, food and water. It was important I had the ability to leave and enter destinations, hence the passport, as were the tools to record the people I met and the journey.

And so with ten physical objects, I added another big list of traits, abilities and willingness and figured that no matter where I ended up, I was certain to make the most of any situation for I had caught a glimpse of what is most meaningful to me.

Meaning comes from inside of you, and finding meaning is certainly a process of going to the source – yourself.

What do you value? What would you take?

you bloody ripper!