Category Archives: Work
It’s usually played at remembrance ceremonies and funerals for soldiers. In some ways, this last post isn’t very different from that of a B bugle call playing in the distance as the sun rises to remember brave soldiers and battles fought.
Only this time around, it is my battle and not those I’d reflected on in remembrance.
In the past ten months, I found out I had cancer cells, had to sit around for six months waiting to hear if they got them all (which they did… I put it down to telling them to f#@* off), sustained an arm injury which tore me away from work and study for six months, was physically assaulted, someone deleted all my websites, I had to move house unexpectedly, couch and floor surfed for nearly four weeks and to put the cherry on top, was in my new house for two weeks and got broken into. And this list certainly doesn’t count all the other lemons, some of them just too damn bitter to recollect in an open forum.
Do you know what it’s like to feel like you’re losing your sanity? And you don’t even know why? To sit on a tram, only to turn around half way on the journey because you just couldn’t be around people? Finding every excuse in the world why you couldn’t, wouldn’t, just damn well didn’t want to see anyone. How going through a box of tissues in a day was normal and you became used to darkness descending at 7am, forcing a day under the covers in the hope you would wake up and it would all just be a bad dream.
I knocked back the anti-depressant prescriptions : I had a tried and tested tool of focussing on the small things that bring us to life. Besides, I didn’t need to add to the GDP to make Australia an even greater country. I withdrew from most of the world, including friends, was careful where I went, who I was with and what I was doing. I continued to sketch, write and outwardly seemed to be alive. Internally I was desperately trying to fight off the insanity of how I was feeling and it was only because I never forgot who was hidden inside that the embers kept alight.
Last year I celebrated my birthday by climbing Mt Agung in Bali, celebrating with friends on the coast and on returning home, had one fun karaoke night with some beautiful people, recognising the awesome of every page within my chapter 39.95. This year’s birthday, I struggled getting out of bed, I didn’t want to see anyone, managed to stretch myself for lunch and at the very last minute braved it in a room full of strangers at a story-telling night. The theme was turning points, and half way through the night, I decided to share a few of mine. You can’t have had a full life like mine and not had some turning points that have whipped your life 360°.
At the height of my stress levels and depression, the assault happened. Talk about hitting you when you’re down. Thank goodness #b03, a daily blog commitment, came along. Every day I sat, sometimes, all day, to pump out a post on something great that happened in the day or a reflection I had on the past. I credit this month, along with #MindfulinMay, for dragging me off the floor and keeping me focussed, on my writing, and my sanity. That, and a very humbling post from a wonderful friend who had taught me about purpose and owning your story and the comments from people when I made it to the final three of a blogging competition. They were all part of my turning point to understand the power of self-responsibility to take control. That and the realisation I was on a collision path.
This soldier was ready to stand up and start fighting. And again, whip my life 360°.
I started this blog when I accepted a challenge. I do have stories to share that could change the world, but this blog was always primarily to help me change my own world. Considering all the lemons that life had thrown at me, at first I wasn’t entirely sure I needed anymore challenges. So the preface was I would keep writing until I, or anyone else, didn’t need it anymore.
That time has come.
Over the past two years, I’ve never written for anyone else nor felt the need to promote my thoughts to the wider universe. It was my therapy. My passion. And my need to focus on the fact that life is unrelenting in its gifts of experience, people, opportunity and self.
I realised wealth and GDP prosperity are definitely not predictors of life satisfaction. We’re spending more money on ‘stuff’, making children’s hospital wards like first class resorts, building multi-million dollar social housing complexes and still don’t have enough, designing more prisons and detention centres, spending big on credit cards, destroying native forests with big trucks and large tools, spending more money on bicycles, house and car locks as theft increases, employing more police, consuming more food, alcohol and cigarettes, spending more money on pokies than on rates in many local council areas, donating more money to charities and yet have more social problems than ever before, destroying our natural wonders with mines and urban sprawl with excess for sale, earning more, still fighting the war in Afghanistan and our spending on anti-depressants is hitting all time highs. Yay : at 1371 billion dollars, we’ve got one of the highest GDPs on the planet. We should be so proud of ourselves spending all that cash so wisely… and happy.
As I reflect on my 158 bloody rippers over the past two years, I realise how so much of what makes life worthwhile is not measured : the innocence and joy of a young child, the strength of our relationships, the beauty of our art, digging out our courage, a breathe of fresh air in the midst of nature’s best, the setting of a sun. If our existence and success were measured by life’s joys, we’d all be abundant. And not just our country.
Despite the lemons, me and life have managed to still walk hand in hand:
- Finding old memories
- Bucket lists
- Completing my first biathlon
- Fridge notes can change the world
- The power of courage
- My first tattoo
- Noticing everything around you
- Letters to Santa
- New found love for sketching
- Top ten travel experiences
- Ten things I value
- The nurture of nature
- New year wrap-ups
- A better planet
- All the bloody rippers
With the setting down of the sun, I will remember them. I may need to come back to this safe space at some stage. But unlike global wars over the centuries that we just don’t seem to be able to learn from, it’s time to hold that mirror up and use every one of my darn lemons to push me into neutral territory.
As much as I appreciate social media for its ability to connect me to so many amazing people I have had the pleasure to cross paths, the doors it has opened, the information it has made available, the world it allows you to explore, and the access it provides to new opportunities, events and people, our friendship is going to take a small hiatus. At its core, it is an incredible resource, but right now, I need to commit to my own projects and not learn about others. I need to open my own doors and not simply peep into others. I’ve explored the world and it’s now time to start exploring my visions. I want photos with my friends because we’re out doing things together. I want to be able to come back from my hiatus taking action on my loves and not simply liking everyone else’s.
It’s time to say goodbye to the external forces and hello to the internal power.
A few years ago, I had a dream about a domain name : www.give.com.au. As a direct result of my experiences overseas, I spent a lot of money and time to build a pretty big fair trade website, working with projects I had visited and researched. I wanted to change the world, or at least make a small imprint on some communities that had made a huge impact on me. Fail. External and internal forces were at play and it’s only recently I came to the understanding I was never going to be able to sell hand bags : I hate shopping.
By understanding the power of my story, it is now I truly understand that before you can give to others, you must begin with yourself. You must be able to stand up in your own power and at the end of your life, whenever that may be, be proud of what you did, what you didn’t do, who you loved, what you let go of, what you accepted, where you went, who you journeyed with and the person you were. All the ideas I have had over the last few years will now be married to create a new www.give.com.au : one that encourages you to give to self, and others. My journey has allowed me to meet the people I needed to meet to make this happen, and for once in my life, I’m putting my hand out to accept some help.
I want to give my writing purpose in a new way, leaving the scope of my life and the joy it brings to focus on some inspiring people that know what it’s like to find purpose. Before I never cared about who read what I wrote. Now I do. I want to start work on my biography. And I want to create some really fun projects allowing others the space to give to themselves… every little part of them and not just a glory box of stuff. www.thedinnertable.com.au is a big part of that : bringing people together to share, connect and create. I still want to change the world in a small way and everything I do will have that as its underlying glue.
The biggest opportunity we have on the planet right now is not to solve any of the world’s greatest problems. It is to inspire a society of change-makers. That change-maker starts with me.
Right now, I’m so glad I’ve had 43 jobs, travelled to 43 countries, have some amazing people in my life, have lost count of the amazing experiences I have had, stood up and fought the battles and now lay down my weapon of choice for the past two years to get on with it.
Three days ago, my friend Richard who had already done so much for me by allowing me to explore purpose in a three day retreat, again put out his helping hand and invited me to a Real Leadership workshop. One of the activities was to pull out from a large selection three pictures that represented three timeframes, one story. With a grin, Rich heckled me for doubling the selection, knowing only too well that in this case, I needed to own my story.
In short, the past is represented by the darkness of which I believe is an important part of my story as well as the strength to stand up from the battle and move forward. The loose threads of my life have been ripped apart to now allow me the ability to bring them all together as a conduit towards the future. I can’t do it alone, I need variety, and I welcome everyone else’s playlists to inform and inspire the future journey. No matter how far apart, how little time we spent together or how close we are, I thank those deeply who have travelled with me on the journey so far and welcome those who are yet to come. And as for the future? One of my favourite films is “Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter… and Spring”. Through stunning cinematography, it is a journey through life’s lessons and at the moment I feel embedded in the contrast of those seasons. I want to continue that journey, knowing I have some handy tools to keep the weeds at bay and there’s going to be one garden I am now ready to focus on… and I want it to flourish.
As for right now, it’s off into the spring sunshine to sit and design “A Beautiful Day” and a gratitude project as required of my Masters in Wellness and then plan to make them happen. Who ever thought when you decided to study at university for the first time in your life, you would be allowed to write about what you’ve written about for two years… just when you’re playing the last post.
Life… it can be so
you bloody ripper!
To Richard, Angie, Glenda, Gregory, Michelle, Steph, Damien, Dani, Yvette, Nynke, Inge, Aaron, Carol, Adam, Diana, Jarrod, Kal, Mike, Annie, Linnet, Calm in the City, Mindful in May, #b03, SLAMALAMADINGDONG! Poetry Slam, Arts in Action, Stillwaters, Enchanted Evenings and The Holos Group. Thank you for being my brakes.
Got my teeny bag packed and I’m ready to go.
What? You’ve got a sleeping bag, clown pants, Elmo t-shirt and your butterfly hat is making a comeback? And they’re all in that bag?
It’s time for random and ridiculous to make a comeback!
I’m off to NSW on a road trip with four strangers, volunteering with Dr Froth at the Incredi-Bubble Festival in Corowa.
My job description:
- responsibubble for the happiness of little ones
- Incredibubble activity
- Bubble fountain
- Serving everyone’s joy
- Collecting and sharing stories of your insights and delights
- Resting and replenishing your joy and vibrancy
- Having a ball
I love job descriptions that make people and life come alive.
I love road trips for their randomness.
And I’ve got a feeling this one is going to be full of surprises and a whole heap of fun. Bring on the happiness of little ones… and big ones!
Oops… better squeeze in the toothbrush.
You bloody ripper!
I had no idea on 01 March, I would be writing every day from 03 March. I’ve sustained a wrist injury and am supposed to be resting it. Plus, as it’s my right hand, it’s made it a little awkward typing each day. But hey, I have another hand and I have plenty of time. Me and words have got to hang out a bit.
March deviation number one.
When I heard about #b03, I pulled out a calendar and marked up all the stories I had wanted to write for a while. With only four stories left to write in the challenge, today I reflected on the calendar and the 27 stories that I was going to write that have all been pushed to the bottom of the to do list. Instead, due to a few things happening in my life, I opted for the flow approach: going where my fingers and thoughts took me to the biggest #bloodyripper of each day. No research. No editing. Just thought and words.
I’ve even written poetry for the first time in my life. Definitely not in the plan.
March deviation number two.
I’ve been offered a few work opportunities lately. But as writing and I have got reacquainted and I’ve left myself naked, bare to the elements of trust and purpose, I’ve just sent emails saying thank you, but no. Yesterday I found out about a workshop learning skills to write about hardship and sorrow and I’ve got the time to say yes. Words and I have a little more bonding to do. We need to hang out some more.
March deviation number three.
If I’d stuck to my plan of posts this month, I may have missed out on some highlights of my day and not merely been open to creative impulses and the moment that gave me the biggest smile. I could have missed it. Because I was too focused on the plan.
I guess you might hear about staring into a fire, crawling out your window to soak up the sun on a window ledge, sensory walks, $2 lolly bags (yes, they do exist), watching the moon rise, space, butts on beaches and what really did happen on my search for Ketut when I went to Bali last year. Or maybe you won’t. Flow has a way of controlling my writing right now, so I’m just sticking with the leaf in a river approach and going where I need to.
March deviation number four.
As I glance again at the calendar, I notice a long red line.
There’s a great quote in “Corner of the sky” from Pippin the musical:
I want my life to be something more than long.
I’ve deviated so much from my childhood dream of studying journalism, to finding myself in politics, travel, social-enterprise, not-for-profit and wellness sectors, that it’s quite surreal to find myself back writing.
There’s no doubt I want my life to be something more than long. I’ve crammed so much into it that I’ve definitely touched, breathed and experienced its breadth and depth.
I’d probably even be able to bring back the award winning public speaker and debater and argue for the affirmative that life should not be a noun. Verb : hands down.
I think March will go down in history to finally understand the true meaning behind Tolkien’s quote on my keyring.
Not all those who wander are lost.
Don’t get me wrong – plans have purpose. And a wandering soul will never find their way home if they never know where home is.
Deviation can bring you back to the path you should be on. You can learn about yourself on those deviations and experience a whole lot of life you never knew was out there.
For me, it’s been a 360 turnaround.
March deviation number five.
Never be afraid to deviate.
Length, breadth and depth awaits.
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!
When you’ve travelled to 42 countries, there are a lot of travel stories bundled up in the memory banks that have never been able to escape for fear of beating the ear drums and glazing the eyes of anyone who will listen.
16 years ago, I lived on a very remote peninsula in Crete, Greece for a year. In 16 years, I have never met anyone who has been to Crete.
This means my stories of mountain tracks, lots of dancing and frivolities in remote villages, delicious clay pot yoghurt, motorbike rides around spectacular coastlines (with no helmet), deep dives with giant rays, swimming in crystal clear water, freshly caught seafood dinners, kayaking with large turtles to work, wandering through ancient ruins… have never been shared.
Last night I went out. I didn’t plan for it to be a late night, but it ended up that way. After 16 years, I finally met someone who had come from Crete. Then it got better. And then there were three… all talking about the magic of this beautiful island and recollecting some of our favourite times. How grateful I was for being able to pull out the memory card that had long been filed away, and reflect on a remarkable year of my life.
I’m often asked of all the countries I have travelled, where is my favourite? My response is that I don’t have one. People and experiences from each country are etched into my memory banks and it is not possible for me to pull a culprit from the line up.
Living in a place, as opposed to passing through, certainly brings with it a different experience. You get to know the locals: Stavros the local baker knew how to put on a wonderful night of food, dancing, drinking and laughter. I can smell the fresh bread being pulled out of his wood oven and sharing stories of his childhood over olives lovingly marinated by his wife, Katerina. I often went olive picking with the family, have crushed a few grapes in my time and sucked way too many delicious Cretan oranges after pulling them off the trees scattered around my house.
Managing a few holiday villas, running kids activities and organising chilled evenings for the parents, I learned how to cook the best octopus, revelled in the delight of children as they took their first ever snorkel over the local rock pools, went diving twice a week, and swam across a very large open water bay in the clearest, warmest water I have ever experienced. I tried my first fish head and goat testicles and learned how to make retsina. I drank too much ouzo, never had enough siestas, climbed to the peaks of mountains and went diving in the darkest, deepest crevices of underground caves.
As I reflect, it’s a wonder I even managed to make it out alive with all the adventure and daring that crept into my year.
Considering last night I was heading home to bed, I think there were other plans afoot with my opportunity to dig into the files and recollect on some Grade A memories.
I’d never told anyone some of the stories I recalled and as I now close my eyes and meditate on the experience of Crete, my eyes are glazing over with the recognition I have a lot to thank this magical island for.
I may have no favourites. But yiamas (cheers) to you Crete. For in your magic, I fell in love with life.
I’m glad I talked to strangers. My estranged relationship with simple joys have been rekindled. It’s time to renew my vows to daring. And flirtation is definitely allowed. The realisation of our dreams depends on it.
I do believe I’ve fallen in love all over again.
you bloody ripper!
17 years ago, I first packed up my backpack and headed overseas. I recall sitting up late into the night writing letters and postcards home by the flicker of a candle. Internet cafes didn’t really exist and for someone who travels the unworn tracks, it was often impossible to find a cafe let alone a place I could share my travel experiences and hit enter to send.
I paid more for the experience of standing in a booth with ten people to make a call home then I did my weekly food bill. Communication with the outside world was difficult.
Today, communication makes the world a whole lot smaller. I can hit send to thousands at once: 17 years ago I would have spent one year handwriting that many words.
I can ‘like’ friends, strangers, places, businesses and random pages like ‘jumping on your mates back, pretending to be a bag, making bag noises’ or perhaps ‘that short amount of time when your life’s almost perfect’. And what about all those tweets, retweets, tags and trends? Communication brings us closer to other people on the planet who think the same, like the same things and help us to spread our word, and more often than not, the words of others. I just did a scroll of my last 24 hours twitter feed: 85% of my tweets were a RT or someone else’s quote. Where have all the voices gone?
There are even medical conditions creeping into textbooks as a result of our attachment to modern communication. 80% of Australians experience nomophobia: the fear of no mobile phone contact. Do you check it first thing in the morning, have apps that let you know you’ve got a new RT, feel disappointment when you’re de-friended, unliked and no one wants to follow you? Are we becoming less effective in meetings when we bring that which we can’t live without to remind us we have emails, messages, comments, reminders and followers?
Communication allows us to share our internal maps of reality and forms the foundation of culture. Are our opinions and thoughts being informed by the outside world? Does it encourage us to evolve, change and think for ourselves? Is there a tug-o-war with the centre line a fine balance between retaining information and sharing our views? Does the overload of information encourage us to pull away from the centre line rather than connect with it?
Recently, I’ve decided to downgrade my reliance on the external. Kicking my cleanse off with a dip in the email inbox, I found it relatively refreshing to read, respond, file and delete. Inbox = 0. The feeling of space allowed for a sense of efficiency, a space from which to create, so the cleanse followed with a scrub of newsletter subscriptions, smart phone apps and reminders. And then the final plunge: an email signature that let people know I only check my emails three times a week. Communications cleanse complete. Two weeks later, my inbox = 0. And I intend keeping it that way.
In some ways, I feel like I’m back 17 years ago, writing by the flicker of a candle. I know where the information is if I want to research my next destination, meet people and tell the entire world with a button what random, ridiculous or raunchy thing I experienced today.
And yet right now, I’m choosing not to stand in a booth with thousands all trying to reach the same number.
For we may have made the world smaller but I fear this does not allow space from which to imagine, play, create, learn and evolve. And these for me, make the world a whole lot bigger.
You bloody ripper!
It’s important to acknowledge who you are. But have you ever had some internal conflict that doesn’t allow you to express it? Or perhaps the external influences of need, desire and expectations just continually pull you away from centre. Do I know about excuses? And that self-talk, it certainly has a lot to answer for.
I wrote my first and only book when I was seven. I’ve written all my adult life, but not words I cared about. I wrote what people wanted to hear, press releases that never told the whole story, political speeches, strategic planning documents that were words without energy or action behind them, marketing campaigns that sold rather than told.
And so I stopped, not even really knowing why. I suppose part of me felt that even though I was writing, it took me so far away from myself that I just didn’t want to do it anymore.
Last year, quite a few things happened in my life to create a little turmoil and I realised that if I were to get through them and find some sanity amongst the insanity of it all, I needed to find joy in the small. Cause created effect of picking up the pen and tapping away on my keyboard in the wee hours of the morning. Result = youbloodyripper. I’m testament that focussing on the small things in life causes a shift in consciousness and certainly helps to support us through difficult times.
Nothing I have written was for anyone else. I don’t believe we should do anything in life because we expect or desire an outcome. And yet, when I was asked a few days ago if this was the case, why do I publish my thoughts online so the world can read it?
I’ve thought about that over the past couple of days: there was a clear contradiction and if I was to focus on my writing, I needed to get clarity on what my writing really meant to me.
So Jess, my response to you remains the same. I do not write for anyone else. I do not care what other people think about my writing. I don’t mind if no one reads what I have to say. I write because I enjoy it, it provides me with purpose and it allows me the privilege of meeting some amazing people.
The one difference is that I do desire an outcome. Simply, it is to write. Acknowledging this has been a huge release, allowing me to not only understand why I do what I do, but that I can, I will, I am able to and that I finally allow myself to do it.
As for that line about desires and expectations, I finally admit that I’m not a martyr, needing or desiring nothing in my life. We all should desire things and people in our life that bring us joy. I need to express myself without the waffle that my emotions sometimes create, I need people in my life that influence, support, are themselves and who move beyond the realm of winning and losing, being wrong or right. I want simple joys and I need to be able to do what I’m passionate about. It’s our attachment to all of these that we need to be mindful of, but that’s a whole other story.
There’s much to be said for creating space in your life for what you enjoy, simply because of the act of doing them.
If the flow on effect of people doing what they love, results in a new contagious virus that infects all around them, hooray for that subsequent outcome.
The next time someone suggests I get a ‘real job’ and follows it by asking how I expect to make a living out of sharing the stories of inspirational people across the planet who make a difference, I’ll stand firm and simply say:
Real is finding purpose in passion.
you bloody ripper!
Why is it we leave it until we’ve run dry to do anything about it?
I don’t use my printer very often. Me on the other hand. How was I going to get a refill urgently? I have things to do.
The facts are, in six weeks I’ve packed twice, moved twice, been sitting in a holding pattern, unpacked 1.25 times (remember… juice low), am waiting for a call from the hospital for a biopsy, not been able to do things I should have been doing, stressed, cried, sucked it up, spat it out and really done a few things that were a little bit odd.But I kept climbing the hill.
Like my printer that just won’t go when it’s out, today I came to the realisation I was sucked dry. The printing was dull, the colour hardly noticeable and the smudging… you couldn’t see a thing.
So tonight I headed to the Chalice, otherwise known as the Northcote Uniting Church. Yes, they do weddings, funerals and baptisms, but around here they’d probably do bah mitzvahs as multi-faith, ‘different paths and one intent’ ensure there is an incredible line up of musicians, meditations, speakers and events scheduled almost every day of the week.
My decision to go was based on the need to refill. I needed colour, vibrancy and I needed to be able to clear my head, express myself rather than expressing waffle, write and get back to centre. And the Ecstatic Sound Circle had my name on it: sound, song, meditation, vibration and energy. I’d never been to a chanting meditation before, apart from my efforts in the shower, and with the voices of 60 people and the acoustics of a 157 year old church, it did not disappoint.
I can’t sing. But tonight I sang Portuguese, Sanskrit, West African and Native American tunes at the top of my lungs. I pitied the poor girl next to me as there weren’t any bathroom walls to keep out the noise. But hey, I was on a mission. And when I start a vital mission, you’ll rarely see me pulling back: there was too much to lose.
It was a beautiful space to be in, not just physically. The energy of the room slowly began to do its job: calibrate.
I certainly feel the yellow is filled to the brim and the cyan and magenta have improved. But the overworked black definitely still needs some serious top up, and so on Sunday, I’m going to the country. That will get the brain back in order, the body rested and the space from which to clear the head so my work as a writer can really begin.
I’ve let myself down lately. Next time, I won’t let the ink run dry. A blank page is no good to anyone. There’s no life in black and white.
Is it time for you to check your cartridges are full?
you bloody ripper
And so I did.
I headed down to the beach in between appointments and sucked. A really big diaphragm suck.. and then some.
Breathe in. Out. Slow. Deep. Smile. Release.
If life is throwing its curve balls or you simply need to stop, head to the sea or mountains and breathe. Do it anywhere.
You deserve it. Your lungs deserve it.Your entire body will thank you.
Take a moment to feel what’s real, for yourself, for the planet and for the future.
We all deserve it.
you bloody ripper!
I had prepared to head into the city for a day’s planning. But the perfect autumn day beckoned me to stop. Pull up a chair. Fluros were replaced with a flawless blue sky. Warming sun replaced howling winds. Windows to nowhere exchanged places with flourishing gardens.
There was no commute. Taking time to prepare lunch allowed connection to passion. The waft and flavours of cauliflower and lentil dahl provided contentment. Silence brought clarity. Stillness stimulated motivation.
Space provided natural inspiration.
you bloody ripper!