Just a Line Today

Don't allow any definition of yourself, the human spirit lies beyond categorisation.

(Me)

Coming Home to the Garden

Today I put my hands back into the earth and I remembered where my heartbeat truly lies.
I forgot everything but the microcosm of life before me, the afternoon sun lovingly warming my back, the blades of grass tickling my ankles and the smile on my face as I felt the old familiar joy of dirt under my fingernails.
It seems that my life has revolved around the garden in one way or another. I suppose that it was always fated that it would with both my grandmothers being avid gardeners; for necessity in providing for their family, and for celebrating the beauty of the bloom. My parents have always surrounded our home with plants, trees to bring shade in this sometimes sun beaten land, and blossoms for colour in our dark green world.
I don't remember the first time I planted something of my own, but as a child most photos of me reveal that I was never far from a flower. Even now, the gift that is most guaranteed to bring a smile to my face is a bunch of blooms.

A seven year old me.

When I was in late primary school, about ten or twelve I suppose I planted the first thing that really brought me pride; Hollyhocks that grew so high that they seemed to be reaching up to touch the great blue yonder, there is a picture of a five foot nothing me standing beneath the rods of blooms; yellow, pink, red and white, smiling at something that I had helped come to life.
At that age gardening for me was a hobby born from both curiosity, an endless hunger for more and more knowledge about anything I could get my hands on, or my mind into; and also from the fact that I was very uncomfortable amongst my peers. At that age most of my friends were characters from the stacks of books I voraciously devoured weekly. Many of these books focused on some sort of magic, in particular magic of the natural world and I suppose that also stirred me on to get out into the garden.
As an adult the garden to me is ripe with metaphors (if you will excuse that awfully obvious pun), and it seems particularly poignant now, at the not so fresh start of the new year, to be discarding that which I planted last year to begin again. Today while I was removing the remains of some pea plants that did not thrive under my care, it came to me that sometimes in life it does not matter how much you try to foster some things, they are not meant to grow. You can tend to love, and try to bring a heart to life, but if it does not come from fertile ground and your conditions are not ideal to its particular temperament, it will not stay yours for long no matter how hard you try.
Removing last season's radicchio plants brought to mind the old adage 'there is a season for everything', I think this is true for emotion too. There was a season, a lovely long season for rejoicing in love, and the shiny promise that it brought to even everyday matters, there was a season for mourning the love that was lost, through no fault, and now a season for healing and bringing back to life all that has lain dormant for so long and fostering the new growth.
There are all manner of lessons waiting in my garden, and I am a willing student.
Yours, from the vegetable patch,
Amy.

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'?

The Lighting of a Fire

'Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.'

William Butler Yeats

On Monday of this week we celebrated yet another wonderful occasion, my little sister graduated from her university degree!

Doesn't she look super smart in her cap and gown? Born to wear it I say.

After four years of hard work, late nights, and more cups of tea than I can count, Jess achieved her Bachelor of Urban Development in Urban and Regional Planning. For the rest of us that means that she is a town planner, working to make our cities better in the future and consulting with communities to understand what it is they need most from their towns.

I am insanely proud of her.

Congratulations Jess. After all of your hard work you truly deserve to be recognised for all that you have achieved so far. You inspire me every single day.

Jess's group of graduates, and two of their proud teachers.

In our family, education is one of the most important gifts you can give yourself and the world. I am not talking about just university degrees or academic accolades; we value life education, the thirst for learning about the world that comes from really living every second of our lives, the skills that we learn from those who walk the road before us; in fostering the natural curiosity that lies within us all.

There is no end to what we can learn, no limit or bounds to the human mind. Education, learning, wisdom, all of these are the keys to so many doors. There is no lock strong enough to keep out an open mind.

Jess and Rachel, who reads this blog. Hi Rachel!

Growing up Jess and I were surrounded by books. Our parents talked to us about the news, about ideas that were larger than just our lives, about dreams and hopes and the history of our own family. 

Mum and Dad lit a fire, nurtured the two young curious minds that had been entrusted to them.

There were no rules about what girls 'should' learn. Jess can wield a drop saw to help Dad renovate the house just as well as she can frost a cupcake. I can hammer a nail as surely as I can sew a button on a shirt.

We learnt from a young age that hunger is good. 

Hunger that leads to devouring books late into the night, filling pages with stories and poetry.

Hunger that fills your soul with a yearning to observe, to create, to question, to listen, to seek minds greater than your own, to never close the door on an opportunity to learn more about the world and it's people and their ideas.

Two more curious minds. Or just curious people really.

Our parents showed us that you never know who has something to teach you. Your greatest teachers in life may not have an education degree, or work in a classroom, or have even finished school. They will not have succeeded in every venture they have tried. They might be years older than you, from a generation so removed from yours that it would be easy to dismiss them as old fashioned or out of touch. Your teachers might be younger than you; wisdom from the mouths of babes.

Trent and Jess.

The most important thing is that we keep an open mind.

Learn every single day. Discoveries will not always be grand or life-changing or even immediately recognisable.

Just remember to stay curious. Nurture the minds around you, young, old and in between.

Read, watch, listen, write, be in the world every day.

All those around you have walked different roads. They all have something to teach us.

If only we take time to learn.

Take time to light the fire and keep it burning.

'I am still learning.'

Michelangelo

I Have Been Changed For Good

'Who can say if I've been changed for the better

I do believe I have been changed for the better

And because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good'

("For Good" - Wicked the Musical)

Some people come into our lives for a moment, passing flitting in and out and leaving barely a brush mark on our soul.
Some people come into our lives forever, shaping the long distance course of our years, our decades, our ever afters.
There are others, who lie between a moment and forever. They come into our lives for a season or two. They signal the end of winter, the growth of spring, the lazy glowing days of summer, the golden remembrance of things passed in the autumn.
They pass out of our lives, leaving memories, acting as turning points; forks in the road.
They have much to teach us if we only listen. If we are open.
If we share our experience and grow together.
These people of the seasons often sow the seeds of change for us to nurture when they leave and harvest down the road in our lives.
There is sadness when these people leave us. They do not pass as silently as the seasons.
Our lives will have gaps in their shape.
Our hearts will be cracked, often broken, needing time to heal.
When we are feeling lost, after our paths have peeled away from those who loved us for a season, we must first take a moment.
Take a moment to let your heart cry, let it shatter into a million bright and brilliant pieces.
Take a moment at the crossroads.
However, do not stay here for too long. Look at all the beautiful things that this person has left you with.
Remember the happiness, the love, the wonder that you shared.
Those things do not die when someone leaves our side. They live inside us as the fertile ground on which to begin a new life.
We are stronger because of what we shared. Our lives are richer because of the beauty they brought us.

I know that my life will seem a little hollow for a while now that you are gone. I know that I need to rebuild a future for myself.
But I must thank you first. Thank you for the love. Thank you for all the smiles.
I do believe I have been changed for the better.
Because I knew you.
I have been changed for good.

Making your own luck: my best recipe ever

Firstly, I must apologise for the somewhat dour mood of my last post, and then, secondly I must thank everyone for their support whenever I reveal that I am having a hard time with something.

Although we do not celebrate Thanksgiving here in Australia, I am truly thankful for all the friends that this little blog has brought me.

Yesterday, while walking to my car from work I stooped to pick a coin off the ground; being a firm believer in the old adage 'See a penny pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck'. 

This was of course, before I realised that the coin was set into the concrete.

It stirred my mind though, and got me thinking about how it is so important that we make our own luck in this world. Although certain events in my life have me believing firmly that the hands of destiny and fate like to take  charge of the mixing bowl and spoon occasionally, I am even more certain that I am the mistress of my own recipe, heavy on the luck.

Luck is not a pre-made preparation that you can purchase off the shelf. There is one way to procure this precious substance: make it yourself.

You need:

•  a good amount of self belief, 
• a lot of love from others and for others,
• an adventurous spirit,
•  some readiness to take on the world and what it has to offer, 
• a little bit of a bruised positive attitude (this makes the luck a little more dense and not so fluffy and gives excellent flavour)
• Gratitude when the luck rises and comes out perfectly
• Gratitude that you got to take the ride anyway, even when the luck isn't so perfect

I would like to end here by saying that even though your luck might not always come out like it looks in the recipe book, there is a chocolate lining to every crummy pastry sheet. Do not give up on yourself. Do not give up on life. 

The only real luck is that which you carry in your spirit. 

And that can never be broken.

In Unexpected Places

Beauty is everywhere.

A carpet of gold in the car park of my office building.

Remember to look around, you never know what beauty is lying right at your feet.

Unseen Ripples

In the course of our lives we meet more people than we can keep track of.
In just a day we come into contact, however brief, with countless lives other than our own.
There is an exchange in every one of these encounters; be it a smile, a nod of the head, two words at the supermarket check out.
Our lives briefly touch someone else's, then we move on with our day. Perhaps never to meet again.
Sometimes these brief exchanges can mean more to someone than we know.
Sometimes they can save a life.
I am so fortunate in my job that I come into contact with very inspiring, wonderful people. I am so fortunate that I get to be a player in their lives for a brief amount of time.
It is very easy to measure the clinical outcomes of these relationships.
It is harder to measure the true wellness outcomes of our partnerships.
I was told today by someone that had it not been for our time together that they were not sure where they would be in their lives, their marriage, their friendships.
I was told that I had made a positive difference, that the universe had thrown us together at the right time. Two souls who just clicked. Two positives that equalled a positive change.
I cannot claim the reward of being responsible for the hard work she has put in to making changes in her life.
All I can say is.
Pay it forward. Be kind to strangers. Smile at everyone you meet. Offer a hand.
You never know what the cost of the smallest gesture will mean in the currency of someone else's life.
There are ripples we don't see when we toss a rock into a pond.

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.

Malibu, We Love You!

On the edge of one of the busiest cities in the world lies twenty eight miles of beautiful coastline; bound on one side by coastal mountains and on the other by the Pacific Ocean, Malibu is a network of gorgeous beaches, and where I find peace of mind.

For the past three days the surf in Malibu has been absolutely brilliant; an end of summer swell that has woven its siren song through the hearts of all local surfers and had them arriving in droves to celebrate each and every set.

While Ben has grabbed his new board and embraced the swell with a smile and a wave back to me on the beach I have been taking advantage of the beautiful shoreline to get back into some running. There is nothing better in the world to regulate your breathing to than the wash of the waves crashing on the beach.

I have many reasons to love Malibu. Firstly, it is where Ben and I enjoyed our first official date and walking the sand takes me back to that beautiful afternoon every time. Secondly, when I watch the sunset or enjoy a midday stroll on this shore I feel open to whatever is happening in my life, I can feel the parts of me that are being created, and the other parts that are falling away.

Sometimes it feels a little uncomfortable, it is in my very nature to resist change, however I know that this discomfort is required as the price for learning more about myself and becoming the person that I want to be, the woman that I want to share with the world, she whom I truly am.

I feel ready when I am in Malibu, strong, free, like it is where I am meant to be. Where I am meant to find the beginning of the journey as the person I am now after years of finding out who that really is.
The journey never ends, this I know for sure, but now I know where I start.
Now to find my Ben amongst the waves...

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.

The Art of Rambling

I love to ramble, with words or with my feet.
Some days I love to walk in the sunshine and be swept away by memory and haunted by thoughts of a future that may or may not play out. Other days I like to roam inside, when the gloom and wind of the day have trapped me and there is nought to do but explore the rooms inside my mind; discovering cobwebs that need dusting away, a precious brass lamp of a forgotten moment remembered, or a floor that needs washing with a few tears.
Lonely days might leave me wanting someone to fall in beside me on my looping way back to the start, or might leave me content with the emptiness of being by myself inside.

To ramble is to just be. To let your feet or your pen decide where you go next.
To ramble is the gift of letting yourself be without purpose just for a little while. The destination is the journey itself. It is a capsule of just being exactly where you are with no pressure or expectation of what might be next.
It is to let every step, every letter, be felt, to be in that moment entirely.
It is to live without examining for a few breaths.
To escape the anxiety of what you cannot control or decide.
To ramble is just to be.
To ramble is to be free.

So go.
Go where the wind or the words take you.
Find pretty moments and words and wind them around your fingertips and in your hair.
Just be for a little while.
I am out there too in that un-momentous moment.
Revelling in the rare and precious beauty of every breath.
There I go again, just off rambling...

See Beauty?

The Oxford Dictionary:
Beauty (mass noun): a combination of qualities, such as shape, colour, or form , that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.

Close your eyes for a moment.
Imagine if we lived in a world without sight.
How would we define beauty then?
Which aesthetic sense would be stimulated by the presence of true beauty, without the curtain that sight sometimes draws over our other senses?
If we sensed beauty with our ears would we cry with wonder over the delicate breaking sound each raindrop makes as it hits the pavement, would each note in a symphony paint the brush strokes of a masterpiece worthy of Monet, every word of a song shine with the light of a sunset.
Were beauty felt with the fingertips would the touch of a flower petal transpose its beauty from sight to touch, could the warmth of our hand inside our lover's convey the same intense beauty as looking into their eyes, the brush of a silk dress against our skin be as pretty as wearing it?
If we could taste beauty would pretty be the burst of a ripe sweet strawberry, would glamour be the darkest chocolate melting into bitter sweet bliss on our tongue, would allure be the first summer peach pie with an all butter crust and vanilla ice cream?
If beauty had a scent would the warm yeastiness and earthy browning flour smell of baking bread take the place of great monuments, would the jasmine drifting through a summer night outdo the wonder of the stars, would the tang of the ocean air coming over a bluff be as paradigm shifting as the first time someone lays eyes on the sea?

Perhaps we would sense beauty with our intellectual senses; loveliness would be measured by the size of someone's mind, not the size of their thighs. Mensa candidates would be the new Victoria's Secret models, ground breaking scientists the new celebrities and starlets, great authors the new pin-ups and page three girls. Beauty would be in someone's word and thought, not in the skin deep combination of genes.

I like to think we would sense beauty with our hearts.
In the deepest of places, we would know what true beauty is.
True grace would be what we do for others, in our family, in our community, for humanity.
Allure would be the passion with which someone talks about their life and all the parts it is made of.
Elegance would be the way it feels to move freely, to talk with love, and to hold someone close in your arms.
True beauty would lie in how much of our hearts we could give away, how heavy and light it would grow for others and in each beat reminding us how precious these days are.

So next time you want to look in the mirror, close your eyes.
See beauty in a different way.

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.

Climb Your Own Everest

'I achieved my Everest, but for other people, you know, it doesn't have to be Everest. It's about finding your Everest whatever that might be, believing it and going for it.' 
Sharon Cohrs ('Peak Performance',U on Sunday, June 19, 2011).


Sharon Cohrs is one very inspirational lady.
Three years ago she had her last round of chemotherapy after a double mastectomy to defeat breast cancer.
One month ago she reached the summit of Everest with her husband.

I was talking to one of my patients today, a breast cancer survivor herself, and she said that after she read this article on the weekend she had felt a little despondent as she struggles to get through her current 5 minute per day exercise regime. I had not yet read the article when I answered her that everyone has their own Everest, and after reading the above quoted passage I loved the poignancy with which Sharon provided inspiration to others to achieve the summit of their own challenges.
Sharon Cohrs' Everest, was in fact, Everest, but your own challenge might not be an 8850 metre mountain top in the Himalayas. Everyone's peak looks a little different, and we can't measure the altitude of our own summit by casting our eyes to our neighbour's peak. It is so easy to belittle our own challenges or achievements by comparing them with what other's are accomplishing; but there really is no comparison. The topography of the landscape of your life is different to everyone else.
Your Everest might be a physical accomplishment; a 5km fun run, a half marathon, an ultra marathon, or it might be a different challenge; getting that job you've always wanted, graduating university, having a child. You can't measure your life, your mountain, using a yardstick calibrated against someone else's Everest.

What you can do is see what other's have done as inspiration to start out on the journey to your peak. Take off from base camp and head towards the mountaintop. Just like reaching the summit of Everest you may need to climb a little, descend a little, and start out climbing again. You might not be successful on your first attempt. The most important thing is that you never give up. Keep walking, keep trekking up the pass and celebrate every victorious step along the way.

Trapping the Sunshine

Winter is officially upon us here in Brisbane. Today I think the sun must have taken a look outside its bedroom window and decided not to even bother rising. Grey, craggy skies filled with clouds and a chill wind greeted me this morning as I walked to work.
But I was smiling the whole way.
Why?
Because I was carrying the baked form of sunshine!
I like to think that citrus fruits are nature's way of capturing the sun for us to enjoy through the days when there are no rays brave enough to break through the horizon.
A bounty of citrus fruits; limes, oranges, lemons and grapefruit, greeted me at the markets on Saturday and I can't resist the shiny green skin of a fresh lime and so these beauties welcomed me home all week.

A Lime and Toasted Coconut Yoghurt cake was just the right thing to add some sunshine to our day of grey. Think of this as winter's answer to the pina colada. A reminder of the tropics that we have left behind for another season, a little bit of comfort when the clouds don't shift all day.
Here is my version of trapped sunshine, bake it and share the sun with those you love!

Lime and Toasted Coconut Yoghurt Cake

Ingredients

1/2 cup butter at room temperature
1 1/2 cups plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup caster sugar
1 tbs finely grated lime zest
3 tbs fresh lime juice
1 tsp coconut essence
2 large eggs
1/2 cup natural yoghurt
1/4 cup dessicated coconut

Method

1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Butter and line an 8 inch round cake tin.
2. Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
3. In the bowl of a mixer beat together butter, zest and sugar until pale and fluffy.
4. Meanwhile spread coconut across a baking tray and roast in oven for about 5 minutes or until beginning to brown at the edges. Be careful not to burn (trust me on this one, it can happen quickly). Remove from oven and allow to cool.
5. Add eggs to butter mixture one at a time, combining well after each addition. Beat in 3 tablespoons of lime juice and the coconut essence.
6. Reduce speed to medium-low and beat in flour mixture in 3 additions, alternating with natural yoghurt, beginning and ending with flour.
7. Gently fold in toasted coconut and then pour into cake tin.
8. Bake until a cake tester inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, about 25 minutes.
9. Allow to rest for 5 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely before spreading with lime icing. 

Lime Icing
Mix together 3 tablespoons of lime juice and 1 1/2 cups of icing sugar. Spread over cooled cake. Top with more coconut if desired.

The only picture of the cake prior to being devoured.

More ways to share the sunshine...
I talked to her yesterday; finally opened my mouth and said the words that I had been thinking for weeks.
And she smiled.
There is a lady who frequents my gym, I see her every afternoon I go. She started out walking, now she sprints. I have watched her journey from afar, seen her sweat, and breathe and quietly go about her journey to health.
I needed to tell her that I had noticed. There have been some afternoons that I have climbed on that treadmill and I didn't want to keep running. Then I would see her walking along, running maybe, and I would feel inspired to keep going.
So the other day I turned to her when she stepped on the treadmill next to mine and I smiled. I told her that she looked fantastic and that I had seen how hard she has been working and that I think she looks amazing.
And she smiled.

We talk so much about boosting our own body image, about talking kindly to ourselves, not listening to the lies of what we perceive in the mirror some days. There is power in that single voice, our own voice, telling us we are beautiful and we are working hard and we are gorgeous just the way we are.
But there is more power in numbers.
What if every day you told at least one other person that you think they are beautiful, or that their hair looks pretty today, or that the colour of their sweater really brings out their eyes?
What if you tell that quiet lady at the gym, or the old man who walks with his dog everyday, or the new mum who jogs with the pram in the mornings; what if you told them that you see their hard work, that it inspires you, that you think they are doing a wonderful job?
They will smile.
If we pass on the sunshine, if we let people know that we notice their efforts, that they inspire us, we take that single voice of confidence and build it into a choir. A chorus with a refrain that echoes that we are beautiful, and we are working hard and we are gorgeous just the way we are.
So next time you notice someone working hard, turn to them, smile and share the sunshine.

Watch my garden grow

There is a time after a bushfire when the earth is raw. Mother Nature's flesh is scorched and scabbed; all life has been taken or has fled from the horror of the flames. It is quiet in this desolate part of blackened earth; save for the cracks of falling trees there is no sound to hint at any kind of hope. But hope is there, you just need to know where to look for it and you need to have a little patience and give Mother Nature a little breathing space.
After a few weeks, and some soothing rain, green heads start to poke out of the soil. These tender shoots take the care of the sun and the cradle of the earth and grow stronger every day. Feeding on what was left behind and forging parts of a new future forest. The old trees who have withstood fires before start to shed the scars of this latest assault and rebuild, healing themselves as they have learned to do time and again. They did not leave in the fire, they did not die but nor will they ever be the same again.
As the old trees rebuild and the new sprouts climb further out of the healing earth signs of life return slowly; smallest insects, reptiles, and as the trees are able to support them, and the new shoots blossom with leaves, flowers and fruit, mammals and birds return to the forest. After ten years it was as if the fire had never been. Mother Nature cannot go back to what she was before the flames, never again will she be the same, but she has learned and she has healed and she has started to live again; brightly, brilliantly and beautifully.

Unfortunately we all have events in our life that raze our souls to the ground; illness, loss, disappointment, no one escapes. But from these we can rise again, never the same but still ourselves, whatever that new normal might be.
It is after these times that we can look to Mother Nature's example as we come back into the light of day.
Firstly, give yourself some time to heal, everyone is different with how long the path back will take them but you need to allow yourself time to become well. Discover what contributes to your wellness; what really feeds your soul and provides you with the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual nourishment that you need to enrich the deepest parts of yourself. We all need to have good foundations on which to build ourselves and if we aren't in touch with what brings us to a state of wellness then we are tending a garden in poorly nourished earth. Once we know how to achieve this wellness it is a life long goal to maintain the beautiful earth of our souls and bodies so that we can keep travelling life's wonderful journey and partake fully of every experience.
A strong, nourished foundation allows us to begin growing again. After we have experienced a huge change or loss in our lives often times we need to start so many things again; relationships, career paths, hobbies, interests, even basic lifestyle plans are all back to the beginning and it can be frightening. When we begin to grow ourselves again we are as tender as the first shoots of spring and we need to remember to take things slowly, grow in the direction of the sun, foster our souls carefully and not be afraid to try new and untested grounds. You can never outgrow the bounds of your soul. Your heart can never be too big.
We are lucky as we begin to grow again that parts of ourselves are not consumed by the flames. There are fundamentals that cannot be changed by life, mainstays that can be comforting in the face of having to rebuild everything else. Our families, our friends, those that mean the most to us and to whom we mean the most to, provide the love that we can use to build ourselves back up again. Your own inner strength, your personality, morals, ethics and beliefs are greater than you can imagine and are more old trees amongst the ruins.  These things might flex and change in the face of disaster but they never truly leave us. Use these, seek to understand why they were not destroyed and you have uncovered the secret to what makes you a survivor. Why you are able to get through whatever hurdles are ahead.

As life moves on and seasons change we move apart from the tragedy and begin to blossom again, have faith that your soul is built to do this, to withstand greater forces than nature or any other power can throw at it. Respect the old oaks that have stood the test of time, and flame, and learn from their foundations what is important in your life, what gets you through, shows you life, even when everything else is stripped bare. Nurture the young shoots, take a chance in face of the wasteland to try something new and grow in a different direction. When you have nothing to lose, no more to give, you have freedom.
So when you face the ash and charred trunks after the fire: look at the sun, the good earth and the healing rain and say, "watch my garden grow".

Knowing (and owning) your weakness makes you stronger

Today I was on a little after lunch ramble to enjoy the lovely autumn weather outside and to procure some postprandial caffeine and I ended up in the hospital, which got me thinking.
Don't panic.
Let me explain.
I actually work at a university which shares a campus with the hospital so there is nothing to panic about, my lunchtime walkabouts usually result in a trip to the hospital, or the nearby sushi train.
This particular hospital was the site for one of my university internships for my dietetics degree, and it played host to ten of the most challenging weeks of my life so far.
When I embarked on my studies in nutrition and dietetics I had my heart set on being a paediatric dietitian who specialised in oncology, my wishes were granted when I ended up interning in both the adult's and children's oncology wards. This was supposed to be my dream come true, I was supposed to find my niche there, my calling in life, my vocation.
I learned a lot while I was on this practicum, however I didn't find my niche, my calling or my vocation; instead I was confronted by a series of revelations about my own weaknesses and that is what I wanted to talk about in today's post.

Understand that I am not talking about vices (chocolate, cookbooks, shoes) or things that make you weak in the knees (yes, my West coast boy I am looking at you), I am talking about those parts of yourself that are fundamentally delicate; those parts of your soul, heart and mind that are like butterflies wings and can't quite take the strain that other parts can.

The lightbox of ten weeks in the hospital showed me that I didn't have the strength of soul, mind or heart to be a paediatric oncology dietitian, in fact I didn't really have it in me to work in a hospital at all. They exposed two major weaknesses that revealed to me that my dream would break me into pieces if I kept pursuing it.
Firstly, I cannot 'leave things behind at the office'. Everyone I interact with, each patient, each parent, each colleague becomes a part of me and I worry about them and wonder about their problems and hope for the best in their lives. Not an easy burden to shoulder when you are working in the children's cancer ward. My supervisor's advised me to just 'shut things out' and to 'not let it get to me', sorry, no can do.
Secondly, I am empathetic, not sympathetic. There is a difference; sympathy is being able to recognise and understand someone else's feelings whereas empathy is experiencing another's feelings vicariously. Pretty heavy stuff if you are an over-thinker like me.
Please, don't think that I am some overly emotional, uber sensitive person, I am just truly a 'people person' and I love to hear people's stories.
When I realised that my dream wasn't going to become a reality because I wasn't capable of carrying some of it's burdens I was lost. The tears I cried into my pillow every night after a day at the hospital weren't just for the stories I had heard that day, they were also for a vision of the future that would no longer eventuate.

Now a few years later, I look back with clearer vision and a more healed mind and I can see the lessons in my weaknesses, I have come to own those parts of me that are weak, and embrace them instead of thinking I can somehow 'fix' them. I have learned that the parts of me that are delicate are actually pieces of me that make me stronger in other places.
The weaknesses have always been there, they make up parts of who I am as a person and in someways help me to be a better person when I understand them, when I own them.
Because I cannot leave things behind at the office and let other people's lives put marks on my own I am exposed to so many different view points, lifestyles and choices, and I can understand so many different types of people, even if I don't necessarily agree with them.
Because I am empathetic I am able to get an inside view of people's lives and support them, or laugh with them, or cry with them when they need it.
These aren't bad personality traits to have, but they mean that there are some things that I need to be aware of; I need to be mindful of switching off after the day is done, I need to make sure I don't let other people's moods drag me down, and I need to make sure that I ask myself if I am making decisions based on how I truly feel.

Your weaknesses shouldn't limit you, they should not define you.
You are stronger in more ways than you are delicate and once you own the fragile pieces of yourself you are essentially sturdier, you can embrace who you are as a person as a whole, rather than just the pieces that fit perfectly.
Think of your soul as a tree. The weakest parts are your leaves, they might get torn off in a storm, eaten by birds or fall to the ground while the trunk and branches are made of much heartier stuff. However, those leaves provide the tree with nourishment and colour. It takes both the trunk and the leaves to make up the whole tree. Both strength and weakness to make up a whole soul.
So when you are confronted by an event in life that exposes a delicate part of your soul take note and instead of letting it limit you, define you, confine you; find the strength behind the weakness, accept them both and love the whole tree, rather than just the trunk.

Why I Run to Find My Point of Grace

There are sometimes when you just have to trust that you can find the magic in the day. It might not be something big, in fact there may be chaos raging around you when you find that point of grace, you just need to be open to finding it, experiencing the peace it brings you and remembering it the next time you feel frazzled, disenfranchised and just plain lonely.
Today I knew that there would be a point of grace somewhere, so after eight hours of feeling chained to my desk I practically flew down the stairs, praying that the traffic would not be too hideous I made my way to the gym for a run, and there, after 13km came the point of grace. That moment where my feet were moving in perfect rythym with my heart and it all just felt effortless. That is why I run, because even when I feel like quitting I know that if I am just patient and give into the mechanics and the music of running that I will find a moment of peace where I wish that I could go on forever.
You might find your grace in running, or in another type of physical activity, your peace might be in painting, or baking or helping others; whatever it is remember the feeling it brings when everything else seems to be getting you down and search for new grace in whatever you do.
Amy

Inspiration in other's words

One of my obsessions is reading.
Simple sentence, however it is something that is truly important to me. I own hundreds of books, and there is nothing that pleases me more than taking a journey through the written word; whether fictional, factual or even instructional. Whenever I need comfort, entertainment, distraction or even the occasional wake-up-from-your-ivory-tower-princess I turn to literature and find my answer.
I was reading a post on ohsheglows.com today entitled Do What You Can...Today. In this post Angela talks about a Theodore Roosevelt quote that inspired her through her journey and this made me think of the quotes that I have tacked up in my home and at work.
These quotes are my everyday link to literature and the accumulated and condensed wisdom of minds greater than my own.
My three favourites would have to be:

It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness - Eleanor Roosevelt

Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself - George Bernard Shaw

Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind - Albert Einstein

These three quotes remind me everyday to create something in my life that changes for the better my little corner of the world and to remember to both question and believe.

Amy