Enjoying the journey

Each morning I take the train to work. It takes about an hour, including a 20min walk to the station. I don’t mind the journey. The route is actually the historic “may flower” line, which joins the oldest recorded town in Britain to the construction site of the largest offshore wind farm (my office.)
Every morning and afternoon I see the green rolling hills of the English countryside. Rabbits, pheasants, cows, sheep and the odd fox graze and hunt next to the line. The harbour, scattered with yachts is always tranquil. And did I mention the free Metro paper?
But more than the daily gossip or picturesque views is the time I reclaim as my own. I am on a journey to a destination and for that reason my internal task master is quenched. Finally she gives me time to think, to listen to music, gaze at the views or simply ponder the existence of the world.
I enjoy the journey irrelevant of the destination.

How often do we enjoy the journey itself?
Do we relish the journey with study, relationships or a career? Or are we so focused on the destination that the mandatory “travel time” is seen as a nuisance or a waste of time?
It is interesting to think how much of our lives is in a state of flux. If we do not see the journey as an essential part of the process, as essential as the destination itself, and try to block it out, it will surely dim the sweet reward of reaching our destination.

Every exam makes the graduation more of an accomplishment.

Every step of the Inca trail made the views that little bit more incredible.
Every tear between Adam and I makes our smiles that bit sweeter.

 

July2011

It takes a strong man…

I am incredibly grateful to be in a loving relationship with a strong man. Not a beefed up narcissist, but a guy who supports and encourages me to live my own life and follow my own dreams.

It is incredibly easy for a partner to dissuade you from doing anything, from eating that second helping to buying a motorbike. You respect and value their opinion. Conversely it is often hard to bite your tongue or consider your partners thoughts/feelings/best interests before giving your own opinion. This is especially true when their aspirations may change your life; be it your location, combined income, social standing, or time together, it can be scary. Often our first reaction to change is ‘no, it can’t be done,’ which is why when you have two strong minded, independent people in a relationship it can be volatile.

My partner respect me, values my opinion and encourages me to follow my dreams and aspirations. I’m sure it isn’t easy for him to do this, but he has done so consistently. When I asked if he thought I should go to Timor he said “Is it what you want to do? Does it feel right?” When I replied it was and it did, “then do it.” When I asked if I was being stupid for continuing to climb Mt Kilimanjaro with altitude sickness he replied “you’ll regret it if you give up now.” He encourages me to follow my dreams, believe in myself and always supports me to do so. That is what makes him a strong man and it makes me lucky to be in his life.

14/02/15

Legalising gay marriage affects you

I don’t completely agree with this photo.

Yes, I believe that a marriage between two people is between those people alone. That it is no one else’s business and a personal choice. But giving everyone the right to legally commit to another person regardless of their gender is something that everyone should care about.

Why? Because I believe that you fall in love with a person regardless of their gender, age, race, political views, marital status, religious belief, family responsibilities or trade union practices. Basically everything the Australian workplace relations forbids harassment against and more.
You love someone for who they are, And not much else matters.
I would like to be able to marry whoever I choose, whether they be female or a Tony Abbot supporter. It’s about freedom of choice. I want the choice to marry who I love and I want everyone else to have the choice too.

So you might be thinking “I’m definitely straight, how does gay marriage affect me?” It will affect you in that it is another choice that you are free to make, that your friends and family are free to make, not the government.
I believe my gay friends should have the right to marry. I believe my gay family members should have the right to marry. I believe if my children are gay that they should have the right to marry. I believe that some guy on the other side of the world I’ve never met should have the freedom to do whatever he wants to do AND I believe that bad things happen when good people do nothing.
Cheers to Edmund Burke who, ironically, was the forefather of conservatism, (which is apparent in his original quote where he dismisses half of the human race and references religion. I think paraphrasing was needed!)

In closing: Don’t suppress other people’s civil liberties because you don’t care for the choice, support their right to freedom and everyone’s right to choose.
I don’t use cycleways but I still think they should be available for those who want to use them … and I hate cyclists!

Looking for Jesus

I have trouble understanding why people who read the Bible or those Christian newsletters. The lady next to me was reading her Christian magazine from front to back with a concerning amount of focus. I couldn’t help but analyse. Most people read for entertainment, escape or knowledge but this is different. This is comfort reading, reassurance in text, an explanation of life and a resounding ‘everything will be OK’ as someone will take responsibility for your sins… Each to their own.

I began to think of my own comfort reading. What do I read to reassure myself, to give myself hope when I’m unsure? And then it hit me… Here is my confession, my sins lay bare, my guilty pleasure is romance novels.

Mills and Boon is my religious text, my false hope. In my fantasy it isn’t Jesus who cleanses me of my sins, it’s a tall, handsome man with fantastically strong arms, a passion for romance, a healthy bank account and a desire for long term commitment.
SWOON
Maybe his name is Jesus, it worked for Madonna, but I’m not fussy..

When I analyse my own fantasy it isn’t an actual deep-seated urge to be swept off my feet and void of any responsibility or free thought by this man on a white stallion. I am loving my independence and don’t want it removed by some handsome stranger, or anyone for that matter. To be honest, if I did come across him I would probably find him too needy or not enough of a jerk for my liking. There is every possibility he may leave beard hairs in the sink and may not appreciate me giving him a detailed synopsis of every second newspaper article I read.

In essence, I don’t want my sins resolved, I just want the reassurance that somewhere on an island far away, exists a man like this. That alone is enough for me. Just like the lady next to me, I don’t have to meet Jesus to be reassured, I just need to think he exists.
So as the lady peered through her glasses at an article of what He says about forgiveness, I peered through mine, reading about Fabios great romantic gestures and I’m sure we both felt better.

3rd Feb 2012

Saturation

The colour is missing from my life. Nothing seems to have the same richness as it had before. Leaves of autumn cover the ground, their brown crumpled carcasses skitter with the wind. grey skies stretch above and the cool air makes me turn from the wind and pull my coat tight. Work and friends lack the lustre they once had. Meetings, deadlines and action lists struggle to have meaning. My mind is elsewhere. My thoughts are drawn to once place only. One reoccurring theme, you.

As soon as I see you a smile spreads across my face, my eyes light up and the exhaustion that plagues me lifts instantly. It feels as though the sun comes out when you appear. The colour returns to everything, but not just normal colour, a saturation of vibrate colours filled with life, love and joy. I shed my coat, the sun kisses my skin as you wrap your arms around me. My thoughts and my body are once again in the same place. The only place they want to be, with you.

April 2012

Head over heels

It’s wonderful but not sustainable. We’ve all been there. The start of a new relationship where all of your time and energy is spent being with or thinking about the other person.
The love bubble.
You somehow survive on a few hours sleep, takeaway and caffeine. Your entire exercise regime is thrown out the window, along with mundane tasks such as housework, grocery shopping and feeding pets. Phone calls don’t get returned and my mother ends up filing a missing persons report.

The unsustainable worry if they feel the same way, if they’ll call, whether to make preemptive plans for the weekend and where you actually stand with each other, it all eventually works itself out.
Nights out on the town change to nights in on the lounge. Minutes away from them feels like hours and everything pales in comparison.

It’s thrilling, stressful and fantastically wonderful but sooner or later life gets in the way and we all return to reality, albeit exhausted.
Questions like should I be at that Uni lecture, when was the last time I did any laundry and has anyone seen my dog, all accumulate into a big ball of life stress that eventually needs action.

Eventually.
But right now I’m going to turn my phone on silent and stay in this cosy bubble for as long as possible. Sorry mum.

2012

Internal Robot Thoughts

I love second hand books. The more random the place I buy them from and the cheaper they are, the better they are. A bought a book in Yamba (a surf bum town on the NSW north coast) for 50cents. It was written by a American business/self help guru over 25 years ago (Dr Denis Waitley) and I carried it with me throughout North, South and Central America.

Why? Because it has a concept in it that I love.

Most self help gurus believe that self image is made up of two parts, the conscious level of thinking and the subconscious. The conscious level collects information, makes decisions and moves this information to the subconscious. The subconscious controls body functions, stores memories and controls goal seeking. Denis named the subconscious his “Robot” and even wrote a little poem about him. 

The problem comes when the conscious level of thinking tries to make a decision that doesn’t correspond to the robots programming, (the robots memory bank.) The robot will then override the conscious mind’s decision. Effectively our subconscious is in control. Our robot is in control of our thoughts and actions. 

Biologically it makes sense. I imagine this was developed from cave man days when some beefy, testosterone fuelled Neanderthal was trying to convince himself he could take on a sabre-toothed tiger single handedly to impress some cave chick. The robot subconscious would take control of the situation and the beefcake lived to see another day. Darwin took care of those without the overriding robot.

Bungee jumping is a good example of how this can be used to our advantage. Our conscious mind knows that the rope will catch our fall, however the subconscious knows that heights are dangerous (information gathered from past experience and learnings), that ropes fail (information gathered from news articles) and surmises that generally this isn’t a good idea. However, the subconscious only knows what it’s fed from the conscious mind, past and present. If your conscious thoughts are strong enough to convince your robot that bungee jumping is fun (you may need evidence to convince him, such as watching other people bungy and live to tell the tale,) you may be able to jump. If your conscious mind cannot convince your subconscious mind then the robot is in control. Your past will dictate your future. 

My stubbornness kicks in here and I say: “No, no one tells me what I can and can’t do, take this robot!” And I jump off the cliff. My subconscious is always kicking and screaming, sometimes it even has a slight breakdown, but I tend to beat it into submission, or try to. Honestly it is a constant struggle to be able to live your life how you want to, not dependant on past experiences and how people from your past have influenced your thinking. E.g. If you’ve never had anyone in your life that you can trust, how does your robot trust the next person? If you don’t think you deserve happiness, how does your robot embrace happiness? 

So who’s in control of your mind, your current thoughts or your Robot? 

I’ll leave you with Denis’ Robot poem that he wrote the year I was born. “I have a little robot,That goes around with me.I tell him what I’m thinking,I tell him what I see,I tell my little robot,All my hopes and fears.He listens and remembers,All my joys and tears.At first my little robot,Followed my command,But after years of training,He’s gotten out of hand.He doesn’t care what’s right or wrong,Or what is false or true.No matter what I try now,He tells me what to do!”

Divorce Porn

The divorce porn industry is lucrative and growing… No, not that type.. I’m talking about the hoards of memoirs, novels and articles giving gritty details of the final stages of a relationship breakdown and what happens next. 
Elizabeth Gilberts “Eat pray love” is a key example and testament to just how lucrative an industry it is.
Why?
Because everyone loves to find out what happened between two people that made them stop loving each other or caused them to simply throw their hands up in the air and say it’s all too hard. Often after a breakup even random acquaintances will ask what happened and probe for gory details of the relationship aftermath.
“Were other people involved? Do you think he’s lying? Did you ever love him? Didn’t you see the signs?”
Or add very unhelpful, uneducated analysis, such as ‘I bet they never loved you’ or ‘You could have fixed it if you’d really wanted too’ or my favourite ‘I bet he was fucking that slut the whole time.’ Did I mention these are not helpful remarks? 


But who can blame us? Our eyes cannot help but linger a little longer on breakup speculations splashed across the covers of glossy mags, our tongues cannot help but ask strangers why their marriage dissolved and we cannot help but analyse and speculate behind backs. Why do we do this? Perhaps we think there is a thread of truth somewhere in the post mortem that might give us insight into our own relationship. A warning sign, a green light or a key learning that we can take away. Something that will prevent the pain next time or maybe give us an indicator that our plane is in a downward spiral and to “BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!”


To quote a previous blog post,  “I’m of the belief that relationship success is not dependant on how it ends…A relationship that is/was happy, filled with treasured memories and learnings is a successful one. If it ends because it had stopped fitting that criteria, despite all attempts, then kudos to you for being honest. If you managed to get through the breakup without throwing objects at each other or hiring a lawyer and you still remain friends, even greater kudos to both of you!”
(http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/08/seagulls-and-relationship-success.html 2011)


Frankly I’m of the belief that distance and no communication is best for all concerned. I always liken it to cutting an arm off, would you rather do it quickly or have it hanging there half severed for a few days/weeks/months, slowly going septic? And you wouldn’t carry it around with you after you hacked it off would you? Well maybe you would if you were still trying to stick it back on.. But after you knew it was dead you’d probably let it go..  Gory I know, but it makes sense to me. 

I’m off to clean the blood from my machete but don’t worry, I won’t leave you without some divorce porn cause I know you need your fix. Here are a few pieces of constructive criticism that  I have received over many years of dating from the most honest source of feedback, ex-boyfriends! When collaborated they really are a wonderful source of information.. Enjoy.Women aren’t supposed to be engineers, they aren’t as good at that stuff as men I love that you earn a good wageI hate that you earn more than meI love that you surf, we can spend time together this wayYou shouldn’t surf, it’s not feminineYou shouldn’t call your stomach your guts, it’s not feminine

• Your arse is too big, you should work on that and get the meat off
• Your arse is too small, you should work on that and put some meat on
• You should wear nice clothes to work, not king gees, maybe a dress?
• You shouldn’t burp, it’s not feminine
• You should wear clothes more often
• You should sleep naked more often
• I like how confident you are
• I wish you were less outgoing
• Dresses suit you better than pants
• Pants suit you better than dresses
• You should wear heels all the time, they’re so feminine
• You shouldn’t wear heels, you’re too tall, it’s not feminine
• I liked you better when you didn’t like me, you should go back to not liking me 
• Maybe you should clean your car, or at least remove the old McDonalds rubbish
• Your jiggly bits jiggle
• You should learn how to cook so you don’t poison us again

 

My Warning

Here’s an exert from one of my (unpublished, unfinished) books, ‘Susan Gilmore’ – Heavy but hopefully OK writing 🙂 Thanks to Scarlett for the line. (GWTW fans anyone?)

I came with a warning, my Aunts warning, “She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” That’s what she said to him. That’s my one warning, it was supposed to make him protect me, but in essence all he heard was “she is weak.”

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, I could see the fury in his eyes, yet it all seemed like a dream, like something that was happening to someone else. I felt numb. I felt nothing. It was as if I was watching it all from the corner, watching the girl backed against the door, watching the man stand over her, watching him strip her confidence, her trust, her strength.
I stood and watched her face. Her confusion showed through a vacant gaze, confusion between wanting to love this man and being scared of him.
He didn’t seem to notice. She shook her head in confusion and took a step closer to him, reaching out to embrace him, help him. Her movements were slow, gentle, radiating with compassion. He stood rigid against her touch. His mouth pulled tight. As she stepped closer he violently pushed her back against the door. With a swift movement his hand closed around her neck, pinning her against the door.

Instantly I was back.

His hand crushed around my throat, my airways constricted. I felt my feet lift off the ground. He banged my head against the wooden door as he lifted me. The pressure on my neck increased. I gasped for air. My eyes wide with fear, I stared at his face. His eyes were black with rage. His brow furrowed into a deep crevasse. His teeth were gritted yet as he yelled little droplets of spit flew from his mouth. My hands were around his wrist, half pushing him away, half still stupidly wanting to embrace him.

My mind was racing, the lack of air was making me panic. I could feel my face going red. It didn’t seem to bother him. He raised his voice and my ears hurt from the assault. He clenched his eyes shut, he raised his fist, I shut my eyes, I flinched as much as his grip let me, Turning my face away from the impending blows. But his fist shot past my face, it hit the door next to my head. With each blow the wood reverberated from the force.

The instant headache was enough. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.
I was sick of it. But was this enough to walk away? Technically, he still hadn’t hit me.
If he did hit me at least then I could leave. At least then there would be reason enough to walk away. The realisation slapped me across the face and before the words had even crossed my lips they had already spread a smile across my face.
“You missed” I gasped with a wry grin.
He pulled back, confusion etched across his face but he didn’t dare let go of my throat.
Im not weak, I thought to myself, Im stronger than you think. Stubborn determination and strength coursed through my veins, “I said you missed.” my voice came out cool and calm. I stared directly into his eyes,”C’mon hit me, isn’t that what out want to do? Wouldn’t that make you feel like a man?” I was shaking, with fear and adrenalin. Half of me wanted to get it over and done with, wave the red flag and then deal with the fallout, just so long as this was over. The other half just wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything will be OK.
His eyes searched my own, for a moment I thought he would call my bluff. I needed to stand strong, I needed one last push. “Get your hands off me you drunken fool!”

I couldn’t help but flinch when he moved his hand. His eyes dropped from mine, his hand released my neck, he turned away. I hesitated for a second, poised for another fight. But it was over.
I dropped to the floor, rubbing my neck. I sat frozen, still shaking. I had stood up to him, I had found my strength. My warning had been proven false but this felt like the start, the start of the end.

17th May 2012

Jaded

Apparently I’m jaded. I was told this recently and it didn’t bode well. After much analysis I understood why people might think this. I tend to give my all in relationships and I’m often the one left with nothing in return and hurting. Which doesn’t strike me as fair or just. I have often given the opinion “such is life” or “ke garne” because life isnt fair, it just is. I often tell my friends, Don’t worry, it will probably happen again, soon enough, so don’t be too concerned. Easy to see why some may think I’m jaded. 

Buddhism teaches the 4 noble truths, which states that suffering is an unavoidable fact of life and realising that, freeing yourself from wanting and accepting this truth is the only way to happiness. 

I’m not sure that I’ve freed myself from wanting but I have realised and accepted that I will be hurt again and again and again. All relationships must come to an end one way or another, whether by blood splattered walls, mutual decisions or simply by death. And there is every possibility that a wonderful relationship will prelude the demise. I prefer to see this as being a realist than being jaded. 

So what to do? Opt out all together or dive in head first and hope for the best. To quote a cliche, Id rather have loved and lost than never loved at all. So chances are I’m going to keep diving head first into shallow pools… but this time round I might stop and look first, or even put a helmet on. 

As for me being jaded, surely if you break a heart often enough it will still have some sharp edges when you tape it back together. 🙂