Everlasting Love

I am not sure how large a human's heart can grow before it starts to ache at the seams. All I know is that every corner of my life is filled with sunshine at the moment, and no cloud could possible shroud its glow.
Just before the wonderful events of last weekend, when my sister married the man of her dreams, another beautiful moment occurred.

Matt and Casey (this is the "good one" of Matt)

Two of the people dearest to my heart got engaged! On a quiet summer afternoon Matt asked Casey to be his wife, and of course, she said yes!
I am so ecstatic for my darling Casey and Matt. Matt and Casey have been together for ten years and come December they will be bound together in marriage, another symbol of the love that has kept them together despite the physical distance that has often separated them.
After meeting Casey seven years ago at the start of our undergraduate university careers I instantly fell in love with her and we have been best friends ever since. Casey has seen me through some of the darkest moments of my life and sparkled in some of the happiest. She is my favourite person to share a meal with, and entertains me endlessly whenever we are together.
Matt is the brother that I never had, the biggest warmest hug giver that I have ever known, and he makes Casey happy - the greatest gift I could ask for.

More Matt and Casey (this is the "good one" of Casey)

I am privileged to know such a brilliant and beautiful couple. I am astounded at the gift I have been given in being able to share in their life.
Congratulations my darlings, from the bottom of my heart to both of yours.
Here is to you, and to everlasting love.

Being " In Spite Of "

One of my worst personality traits is procrastination. If something can wait until tomorrow, you can be sure that it will take it's place in the 'pending' file on my desk for a decent period of time.

My delay tactics are one part of myself that I truly do not enjoy and would dearly love to work on improving.

I have certainly improved since my university days of leaving assignments until 3am in the morning of the day that they were due, but still something is holding me back and building a road block to consistent action in some areas of my life.

The main areas where I face issues with putting my life on hold tend to be about taking chances that may lead to permanent changes and potentially lasting failure. In other words, how do I take steps to make my dreams for the future come true? How do I start doing the work to build my future?

Why am I afraid?

Thus, I turned to my on-call therapist (Google) to find out a little more about procrastination, and where this could be stemming from, and what I could do to shift my life out of the 'pending' folder and into the 'active' file!

A search in Psychology Today turned up  a definition for procrastination as 'the gap between intention and action', and over 900 articles dealing with this topic.

So, I guess dealing with this undesirable habit is going to take a little while, huh?

I am willing to put in the work. I am capable of delving into whatever quiet and dusty corners of my soul are building plaque and stopping the flow of my future.

One quote that I really like from an article on the Psychology Today website states:

"For chronic procrastination that stems from a deep sense of meaninglessness in life, "being in spite of" defines the existentialist's "therapy." In spite of feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand, in spite of not feeling like doing it, in spite of fearing failure, in spite of seeing little value in a necessary task, the answer is courage to persist and continue. This choice will define you, just as the choice not to persist, to needlessly delay has already defined you through procrastination"

My first step to dissolve the block of fear in my way is to 'be in spite of'. In some ways I have put this into action in my life already; regardless of being afraid of rejection, or of discovering that I don't make any sense when I string words together, I started writing this blog. When I found that putting my thoughts out there fed part of my soul and that people were reading what I had to say; I kept going, and it motivated me to enrol in post graduate study this year. Achieving some small successes by just 'being in spite of' my fear motivated me to persevere in this area of my life. Whenever I have had the best adventures while travelling, it has been because I have taken a chance 'in spite of' not knowing where the road could lead, 'in spite of' being far away from home, 'in spite of' potentially not speaking the language or getting lost. Every time I have taken these little risks, the road not yet trod by my feet, I have uncovered another puzzle piece of who Amy is, learnt more about myself. I need to take this lesson of 'being in spite of' and apply it to the risks and growth I need to make my happily ever after a reality.

Tell me, dear readers, are you a procrastinator or a doer? How do you shift yourself into gear? What have you learnt, just by 'being in spite of'?

Multitasking? Take a Moment.

We are a society of multitaskers; proud when we can cleave a second into its millis and cram each one full of tasks to accomplish simultaneously.
We read and answer emails while we run or walk or cycle or cross train.
Take phone calls while we drive, at the same time planning dinner and questioning what to wear to brunch on the weekend.
Eat our breakfast while making family member's lunches, feeding the cat and packing school bags.
We overlay our lives with coatings of to do lists and check boxes.
Make a day only seem worthwhile if every moment is filled with accomplishments, stresses, and further goals.

I too am guilty of this.
Only recently I found myself sticking my earphones in while I took the ten minute walk from my car park to my office. I strode up the hills and wound my way through the back streets until I reached my office with no recollection of how I had gotten there.
Had the agapanthus finally blossomed along the pretty picket fence one street over?
Was the grey cat sunbathing in the driveway again, peering at me with his tawny eyes?
Were the mock-orange trees still perfuming the air with their tiny star shaped white flowers?
I had no idea.
I had been listening to some music, writing a note and focusing on whether I should really expose my feet to the sighted world now that they were emerging from a winter spent in hiding and might possibly blind innocent bystanders.
When I went to walk back to my car that afternoon I left my iPod in my bag. I listened to the birds chatter in the warm afternoon sun. I stopped to take a photo of some pretty blooms that made me smile. I scuttled away from the bougainvillea bush when I heard rustling underneath and saw a scaled tail disappearing into the under brush.
I arrived back at my car feeling refreshed, quiet inside, ready and happy to go home and do a little more work and enjoy dinner with my family, see my boyfriend on Skype.
I realised that sometimes you just need to turn off the noise. Just let the world exist for a moment without trying to interact with it, without trying to change it, organise it, get ahead in it, reply to it.
Just take a moment to let your mind breathe.
Multitask some meditation, some quiet time into your day.
Couple it with some breathing, a few smiles, and some random happy thoughts.
Just take a moment to be in the world, be in yourself.
Just take a moment.

Oh What a Wonderful Weekend!

Days like these remind me that I am one of the luckiest people I know. I left work on Friday afternoon and immediately stepped out into a relaxing spring weekend full of baking, walking and catching up with my beautiful Casey!

After reading this wonderful article from 'The Kitchn' about the wonderful Judith Jones I found myself with a craving for a well made omelette, thus ensued this culinary perfection; a symphony of fluffy green onion omelette with mushroom and parmigiana accompanied by pan fried asparagus. It was exactly what I had been  imagining all afternoon.

After dinner Jess decided that Molly needed to taste test some of the cupcakes she had baked. After all, Molly is one of the best food critics we know.

The cupcakes received the tail-wag of approval. 

I then got to play 'Queen of the Buttercream' and decorate the now approved cupcakes.

Oh. Delicious.

Saturday was a highly anticipated day full of adventures with Casey Tara!

Of course, we started with something sweet; my darling Casey knows of my predilection for the peanut and chocolate combination and thus created for me mini peanut butter cheesecakes crowned with chocolate.

Watch out! These might appear again in a moment!

Then we headed off for an early lunch at 'The Little Larder'. A funky breakfast and lunch spot that is highly popular on the weekends. After our experience I can see why, and I shall definitely return. Casey and I both had the 'Vege Delight' sandwich, mine as a salad and hers as nature (and the chef) intended it to be. A wonderful combination of nutty, chewy grilled haloumi, zucchini fritters, salad greens and tomato chilli jam dressed in sweet balsamic vinaigrette. I can't wait to try and repeat this at home.

As a salad.

As a sandwich.

We then headed to James Street in Fortitude Valley and wandered and wondered at all the treasures that we found at every turn. As this area was once quite industrialised there are many old warehouses that have now become interesting shops. The high ceilings and catwalk mezzanine of this old warehouse provided an interesting contrast to the delicate Provincial style furniture on display.

After some more imaginary furniture shopping, a relaxing swim and a great Pilates class Casey and I headed back home for a family dinner. The mini peanut butter cheesecakes were too scrumptious for just one appearance in a day and so they got a little fancier for dessert when dressed with whipped cream, home made caramel sauce, shaved chocolate and salted peanuts. All served in my new amuse-bouche glasses (we had to test them out you see). Just enough to satisfy a sweet ending to a very sweet day. Thanks Casey!

The spring sunshine that woke me this morning called for a wonderful walk to revel in the promise of the coming summer heat. Following the storms that we have experienced this week nature has thrown on all her jewels; the grass shining emerald and every flowering shrub and tree displaying ruby and amethyst decoration.

Of course there is no other way to end a wonderful weekend morning than getting in the kitchen. Therefore we have the white chocolate and hazelnut blondie.

Yes, my little chickpeas the recipe will come very shortly!

Saying a Final Goodbye to Yesterday

Today I ended a relationship. I picked up her stuff and threw her out the front door.

Took her photos and her torture equipment and walked to the rubbish bin, placed it all inside and slammed the lid, sealing it from the sunlight of this beautiful Sunday.

No longer would this evidence linger in a corner of my sunshine coloured room, gathering dust and festering like a scar from the past that never quite grew over.

It has been a long time coming and there is still some healing to do but for the most part she is now only a bad memory and a lesson that has been lived and learned.

The break up has been a long and arduous process. With each day I worked at removing her from my life; one twisted tentacle, one poisonous root reaching from my past to my present, at a time.

Her sneers and constant jeers, the chanting of her unworthy canticle; I learned to drown these out with songs I sang about myself and how beautiful my life is and all the blessings I can count in everyday.

Sometimes she still turns up the volume, slips into my top forty. I have learned to change the channel.

She took photos, cruel pictures of a twisted soul that loved to pinch itself and exclaim over how ugly and dark everything was, every wrinkle, every wart, every stretch mark like a pleasurable wound to be opened up over and over again with the sick satisfaction of self inflicted pain.

I deserved this, she told me. I deserved to suffer. I deserved to live in the dark because I had no control, because I carried extra when others had enough control to go without, because I couldn't stop when others could, because I was an expert at hiding all I took.

She showed false cheer and lured me back into her arms with the promise that if I listened to her, if I loved her enough, if I let her lead my life, that she would make me worthy one day. She played her Pied Piper tune and conjured images in the smoke of the days of my life she burnt; one day my life would look like theirs, if I said no to myself enough, if I hated myself enough,  if I punished myself enough.

But it would never be enough.

Slowly, I emerged from her darkness.

I saw that her love wasn't love at all. If she really loved me she wouldn't tell me that I was ugly and unworthy of anyone's love but hers. She wouldn't keep me in the dark and cover me with her kisses of shame.

She wouldn't pet my hair in the dark of night, whispering dark fairy tales of the monsters that people like me became if they wandered off the path she lay at my feet.

She wouldn't wave future happiness in my face while making everyday a misery.

So I started packing her bags for her, practicing my break up speech in my head. I started squirreling away strength and starting a new life that she couldn't see, couldn't destroy.

A year and a half ago I knew it was over.  I spent more than a year saying goodbye.

Today I finally threw her out.

She will not be missed.

She is my past.  I am my now. I am my tomorrow.

And the sunshine has never looked brighter.

Sorry I Couldn't Help But Overhear...

"You know I've never liked my belly, even my daughter said something about it the other day." said the first lady.

"It's my thighs for me. Look at these!" Replied her friend.

"And, my arms, I shouldn't wear sleeveless tops anymore they're so bad." Continued the first voice.

"I know what you mean. I've definitely got some bingo wings happening here." Her friend agreed.

"Then there's...." The first lady nodded and started again.

This is the point where I stick my earphones back in and turn up my iPod to drown out the conversation occurring on the treadmills next to mine.

Yet even though I can't hear them, their words stick with me as I run, and I long to say something, actually several somethings. Knowing that turning to two complete strangers at 5:30 in the morning and starting a conversation about their negative body chat would probably not be welcomed I will instead turn to all of you.

Let's have a little chat about body talk.

I must precede this by stating that I am in no way perfect in my own body talk. However, I think that in this case that allows me to comment as I walk the same path as every other mirror owning person who wakes up some days and sees something in their reflection that isn't quite what they had hoped for. I must also say that I am working hard at recognizing when I am being negative, and trying to turn these thoughts around.

There are times when I look in the mirror (or any reflective surface that is handy) and scrutinize what I see before me, usually some sort of conversation then starts in my head, directed at my body. Depending on how the day has gone the talk might sound something like this:

'Gee, need to work harder on that upper body strength. Better wear a cardigan to work today, those arms are not fit for public consumption.'

'Pencil skirt not an option today, that belly is way too bloated.'

And so on...

Of course there are good days as well.

'Damn chickpea! That run on the weekend made your legs look good! Definitely wear that shorter skirt today.'

One of the first times I really paid attention to how I spoke about my body around others took place when I was driving a friend to the airport and had my 12 year old cousin in the back seat. My friend started to complain about the size of her thighs or behind, and I then made a comment about being larger than my sister.

Then out of the mouth of the babe in the backseat came the comment.

'But you are probably a lot stronger than Jess then, aren't you?'

This one little comment made me stop, close my mouth and really think.

I realized that I didn't want my cousin to grow up in a world where women thought it was okay to have negative body talk as a common topic of conversation.

I wanted her to celebrate her body. Whatever shape she grew up to be, I wanted her to be happy with the way the universe made her and to realize the gift of having a body capable of moving and running and dancing and adventuring.

In fact, I wanted that for me too.

From that point on whenever I looked at a body part in despair I tried to turn around the message that the evil little voice in my head was trying to broadcast.

I am thankful for having a body with all its pieces in working order. Sure, it might not be the most coordinated order, but it works for me.

I am grateful to have two arms that even though they will never resemble Michelle Obama's in anyway whatsoever, allow me to beat cream for a batch of scones on a Sunday afternoon, or cream butter and sugar for cupcakes, to hug the ones I love so tightly that they know how my heart beats for them, to lift tonnes of books when I go to the library and can't just pick one.

I am grateful for a (definitely not Gwen Stefani) tummy, that has never known true hunger, that celebrates every meal (and meal between meal) with little gurgles of delight, that feels deliciously warm when I lie on the beach in a bikini, that hurts in a good way after a really big laugh, or becomes a favourite place for a dog to rest their head when I lie on the floor.

I am grateful for my never-gonna-be-a-Moulin-Rouge-dancer thighs because they get me through half marathons, can do a decent version of 'The Twist' with my Mum and sister in the lounge room, help me climb mountains or grip on the back of a motorbike, and form a lap for a cat to find warmth on a winter's night.

This body is my page to write the story of my life upon. Every bump and scratch, wrinkle and scar, tells part of the tale of the person that I am today.

Scars on my hands say I have cooked good meals and made people smile with food we have shared.

Wrinkles on my face have been formed by laughing and late nights studying.

Bumps and bruises on my legs tell me that I have been running and dancing and that I'm not ready to slow down anytime soon.

Every story, every moment that I have had the pleasure of living has been witnessed by this body.

I have been carried through the bad times by this body.

I have danced, laughing and twirling, through the good times in this body.

Why shouldn't I show it the love and respect that it deserves after over twenty (pretty awesome) years?

There is no reason.

I am grateful. I am learning to tell my body how grateful I am that it works so wonderfully and how much I love it everyday.

So tonight, or tomorrow morning, or whenever you pass by a mirror next and start to tear your body down with bad words; please stop.

Stop and turn that thought around.

Tell your belly how thankful you are that it bore children.

Tell your thighs how thankful you are that they walked the dog this morning in the stillness of the dawning day.

Tell your arms how thankful you are that you can hug your beloved.

Give your body back some of the love that it shows you everyday.

A Million Brilliant Points of Light

I am so fortunate in my life to be surrounded by extraordinary people.
Linked to so many amazing human beings through my work, my friendships, those who I call my family; everyone who takes up heart space.
Like a million brilliant points of light who shine in my night sky, who make up my astronomical map; each one of them anchors me with a connection that I treasure every day.
You can't see stars during the day, but they are still there, shining behind the sun; just another star really.
There is nothing like looking at a grey sky and knowing that behind those clouds, in the true background of the sky, there are a million brilliant points of light still radiating their light towards you, even though it isn't apparent right now.
There is more than what you can see with your human eyes.
There is more beyond that sky.
You might think you are alone.
That the sky is grey, and only grey. Choked with rain, drowning in sorrow and precipitation.
But behind those clouds, there are a million brilliant points of light.
And they shine for you.

Kairos and a Cookie

In ancient Greece there were two words for time.
Chronos, which is the time we live by everyday, sequential time, something that can be counted by your lovely shiny watch.
The other, was Kairos; a time between time, that cannot be counted and in which something special happens.

Chronological time rules most of human existence, we schedule meetings, time for working out, eating, and nearly every other task.
Kairos, that time apart, is an effort to find, but a worthy pursuit.
I have written about everyday grace many times before, but Kairos is something a little more than that. It is more ritualistic, for some it is religious, but it does not have to be.
It is an endeavour to get to Kairos; we must create the right conditions, force ourselves into that time between time, still the clocks of Chronos that chime in our head all day. We must search for that quiet space inside ourselves where an undefined time swirls and feeds something inside us, sometimes deeper than we know.

Kairos might be a ritual we allow ourselves once per week, a moment alone in a pursuit that pleases us entirely, a space inside us that feeds our soul and does not answer to the tick of the clock. It could be a Saturday afternoon walk by yourself in the quiet. A glass of wine, a book and a cat curled up on your lap on Friday night when everyone else is out of the house.

Kairos can also be shared, a time for our family, friends, community of our hearts, to spend moments together forging connections that are based on deeper understanding and enjoyment that goes undefined, happiness felt, not spoken. A sushi lunch date with a friend once a week. Sunday morning pancakes with the family.

Kairos does not have to be scheduled, it can be spontaneous a one time ritual that still means so much. This afternoon the house was quiet, the day was wrapped in grey clouds and I was alone in the house with a batch of freshly baked cookies singing their siren song. I knew that there was a moment of Kairos waiting for me, I just needed to recognise it and grab the opportunity to nourish that part of myself that often gets forgotten in the everyday. I made it into my own afternoon ritual; I plunged some coffee, the bitter nutty smell promising something in the time beyond, picked out the cookie that most appealed to me with it's greedy chunks of chocolate still soft from the heat of the oven, and pushed my chair into the best position to view the deep green garden and soft woolly clouds. I settled myself, took a breath to clear the hands of time away and opened the doorway in my mind through which I access time between time. The coffee and chocolate melted together in harmony, more than just the sweet and bitter; they spoke to me of the work I had taken crafting the cookies, the beauty in waiting for them to bake, the treat of allowing myself an indulgence of both chocolate and time.

I recommend you find Kairos in your own life. Make time to access that place of no minutes or hours. By yourself, or with others. Take time for a little ritual. Place yourself between the hands of the clock where you can't see them move and find that something great beyond the chime of Chronos.

It's all about chunk to dough ratio!

Chocolate Chunk Spelt Cookies


Ingredients:
60g butter, softened
60g raw caster sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
180g wholemeal spelt flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
75g dark chocolate chopped into chunks

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius and line a cookie sheet with baking paper.
2. Cream butter and sugar until fluffy, then add vanilla and egg and beat to combine.
3. Add flour and baking powder and mix until incorporated. The mixture might be a little stiff but keep working at it, the pay off is worth it!
4. Add chopped chocolate and mix through batter.
5. Roll tablespoons of mixture into balls and place evenly spaced apart on the lined cookie sheet.
6. Cook for about 15 minutes and then remove to cool on a wire rack.
7. Enjoy, in a moment of Kairos.

No Room Here for Fear

For a long time I was part of the resistance.

In fact, I think that I could have possibly been the leader of the resistance.

The resistance to change that is.

I would put up roadblocks whenever I sensed the slightest disruption to my current lifestyle, even if I knew that the change was for the better, that it could bring growth and opportunity and happiness; I would dig in my heels until I either had to submit to the change and admit that I was wrong, or miss out on the chance to grow altogether and never know what might have been. 

I will never know what I missed out on during those early resistant years of my life, really the first twenty two and a half years of my existence.

But I was lucky enough that something happened and made me realise that what I was resisting was not the change. 

It was the fear of what was next. 

The fear of what I would become when I accepted the change. 

I was afraid of being better, or more, or closer to what I really wanted in my life.

In staying the same I knew what to expect, I knew who I was, where I was and I didn't have to risk disappointment because every outcome had been pretested.

I was leaving too much room for fear and it was crowding out happiness.

When I realised that I was wasting space in my life on being afraid I knew that a major spring cleaning was in order.

There was no room for fear in the life I wanted to lead.

So I listened to the fear, and then like an unwelcome houseguest I told it to pack its bags and leave.

Now.

I watched fear's back retreat into the distance of a past where I felt stifled, stagnant.

Then I let happiness in. Her sunshine filled the rooms of my life and left room for others too.

Joy came and stayed.

Adventure led me far and wide, my travel mate at home and abroad. Without fear I could truly experience and grow and learn from each adventure, whether the end was happy or sad or in between.

Then love. Love came waltzing in and thank goodness my life and heart are elastic waist banded because Love was the happiest, most joyful adventure I had found to date and it swelled the girth of my life no end.

It's not to say that some fear is not healthy, fear is a useful warning system that can help us avoid disaster. But we shouldn't be afraid of our own lives. There shouldn't be room for fear in the everyday.

Because fear crowds out happiness, joy, adventure, love.

Here, in my present, in this life that I own there is no room for fear.

Sorry fear, my life is full of happiness, joy, adventure and Love there is simply isn't space for you.

No room here for fear.

On Serendipity

Serendipity: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for; also : an instance of this.
(Merriam- Webster dictionary)


After all that I have seen in my life, after all I have experienced thus far in my tread across this earth, I have come to the conclusion that not only does serendipity exist, it is there everyday if we open our eyes.

Sometimes serendipity makes itself known in a grand manner; splashing across our lives in a Jackson Pollock print of connections and a brilliantly positive outcome for all. There is no denying that the universe has somehow pulled all the threads together and tied a nice shiny bow around our future. You step into a coffee shop, smile at a stranger, and live happily ever after.

There are times when all seems to be going wrong, the Monday mornings of life that seem to punctuate the landscape, even when it isn't in fact Monday morning at all and then, serendipity creeps in and the path suddenly takes a left turn and all is better again, unexpectedly. These are those grey sky days where you seem to be shouting from the bottom of a well when suddenly the sun comes over and you find that you are actually in the middle of a beautiful valley. The big turn around that comes every now and again.

Then, there is my favourite form of serendipity. The subtle everyday weaving of quietly and deeply valuable moments into our lives when we least expect it; the strains of my favourite song playing out of a neighbouring car when I am stuck in traffic, the glint of a dollar coin in the bottom of my handbag when I think I'm short of change for my morning coffee, a lunch time conversation with a friend that provides more insight than I thought possible in the span of thirty minutes.

So open your eyes.
In every moment, every breath, you can discover some form of serendipity. 
There is value in unsought happiness. The kind that comes knocking at your door unbidden.
Unbidden but never unwelcome.
When happiness comes calling make sure you listen.
Answer the door.
Let happiness in.