Christmas 2013

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were both lovely, the nicest in years. Am feeling very fortunate to have been able to spend such lovely time with my dearest peeps. Sadly, I took very few photos but I'm sure the memories will linger for a long time to come.

Good things about Christmas Eve:

* working a surprisingly relaxed day shift with happy colleagues and tasty treats sweetening the deal further.
* successfully finding a last minute gift I was hoping to find on my way home from work
* not caring that the house wasn't completely immaculate for Christmas and just feeling satisfied with the hard work I had put in being enough
* going out for dinner for Mum's birthday and having a wonderful Vietnamese feast with all the siblings, partners and kids there
* having everyone come back to our place, candles aplenty lit throughout the house, carols playing, holly and berries in vases, eggnog consumed and my sister happily saying to me "Now it feels like Christmas!"
* the kids excitedly sprinkling reindeer food down along the driveway, checking the Santa tracker on the internet to see where in the world he currently was (New Zealand! So exciting!), putting out milk, mince pies and carrots and placing their Santa sacks outside their room
* quietly putting everything together under the tree and marvelling at the abundance
* crashing into bed at an ungodly hour- ahh, sweet, sweet sleep....

To be continued.....the beach is calling!

It's been a while.....

I don't really have any reason for neglecting my blog for the past 3 and a bit months. I've been neglecting a few things I guess, my fitness and general health, my job, this blog. I haven't done much at all except come off my anti depressants and to be honest, in hindsight, I don't know that this has been a good decision. I like feeling clearer in my head, but I have to admit my motivation and drive has taken a definite nosedive. I feel as though I am feeling more, but doing less.

My heart and head are still a mess.

39 years and 51 weeks

So, this time next week, I will have turned 40 years old. For me, this is a big deal. Why? I don't exactly know. It didn't bother me in the slightest turning 30 or 35. They were merely numbers to me, which had no significance or meaning whatsoever. Just another birthday, to be enjoyed and celebrated. But, for some reason, the number 40 has bugged me for the last year. Turning 40 feels significant.

For the last 12 months, I have had various thoughts and ideas on how my 40th should be celebrated. A week in Paris? Not so romantic with two small children. A tropical cruise with my nearest and dearest? Not everyone can afford it, or want to do it. Some time alone, at a retreat? Seems isolating and lonely. Botox? Too vain. And painful. Dancing and drinking all night in the city? Been there and done that. A big, raucous party? I don't actually know enough people to have a big, raucous party. And even if I did, I wouldn't want to partake of big and raucous.

You name it, I've considered it.

I have wracked my brain, trying to come up with something amazing and fabulous to celebrate the fact that I am turning 40 years old.

Why?

Because, at 40, you are meant to have your shit together. You are meant to have sorted out where you are heading. To have purchased a house. To have accumulated a wide circle of interesting and interested friends. To feel whole. Settled. Be sensible. Committed.

And yet, I have achieved precious few of these things I've listed. I rent. I have a very small circle of people I love and trust. I often feel unsettled and uncertain. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I think it's a midwife, but I'm not 100% sure. I like the principles of Buddhism, but I'm not committed enough to call myself a Buddhist. There at least 20 countries I'd visit tomorrow if I could. I haven't written a single sentence of the book I've promised myself I'd write for the last 20 or so years. I meditate a few times a year rather than every day. I drink too much and eat too much crap. I don't move enough.

But- I have quit smoking. I run! I am practising yoga more regularly and it feels right. I am not afraid to express my opinion or thoughts. I know that perfection is a myth and that sunshine on my skin feels great. That focusing on my breath in troubled times centre's me. That my children are my greatest source of joy and happiness and that they enrich my life in a way that nothing else does. They fill my heart and soothe my soul.

I am turning 40. My thirties meant pregnancy, babies, family, sacrifice, patience, change. Moving from being a single to a couple to a family. Transitioning from impatient idealist to rational realist with one eye on the inspired and impossible.

Here's to my last week of being 30 something.

I know that "Nepal" is missing from the blog....

And so, I will add an entry on Nepal very soon. The trouble is, it was such an immense experience, that I don't know that I can do it justice. I will attempt it though, if for nothing else than my own memory. All I definitely know is that I will return to the beautiful kingdom of Nepal next year, in order to trek the Annapurna Circuit and fulfill a dream I have held for 12 long years. I would love to do the Everest Base Camp trek as well on the same trip, but after suffering the physicality of the Poon Hill trek with a dodgy left knee, (which reduced me literally to tears at times over the pain endured, thanks to a running injury exactly a week before we left for Nepal), I dare not attempt until I have at least a successful circuit trek under my belt. Not that it bothers me greatly, as it only means that I must return to Nepal a third time to realise my ultimate dream. No hardship at all!

I long to return to Kathmandu. Particularly Thamel, with it's narrow, slightly winding, delightfully claustrophobic alley ways, one leading onto the next, and then the next. A succession of tea stores, pashmina shops, Thangka sellers, distributors of Buddhas and vendors selling semi-precious stones worked into beautiful necklaces and bracelets. How I long to haggle gently with jewellers and side street con-women selling cheap bags. To debate the worth and value of a handmade wind pipe with an incessantly sincere seller. To sit in a smokey, dimly lit restaurant, waiting for the ordered momo's and Tibetan beer to be delivered to the table, with the threat of an electrical outage ever present. The reassurance of a head torch, so alien in usual circumstances, giving comfort through it's very presence in one's jacket pocket. To cast shy, unwilling eyes at a table companion, while reading the mesmerising tale of a mountain ascent gone awry.

This is Thamel-cheap internet and crackling international phone calls. Inexpensive books. Good food with the threat of electrical power shortages. Cheap soap. Haggling for Buddhas and jade and silver bowls. Beggars. Narrow alley ways and peaceful hotels. The crow of roosters along adjacent roof tops. A feeling of peace amidst the madness. A feeling of having been granted an insight into something remarkable.

I Love You Thamel.

I can't wait to experience you again. Soon.

Ashram

On Friday I headed off up to the central coast to attend a meditation retreat at an Ashram. I have been going there since 2001, every year or so, and without fail, the instant the car I'm in pulls up into the car park, I feel a deep sense of peace and calmness pass through me. It's almost like coming home.

This time, for the first time, I managed to organise myself so that I arrived just before lunch. All of the food at the ashram is vegetarian and although it can occasionally be a little on the spartan side and is rather heavy on the carbs and light on protein, it is always delicious. So, I had lunch and then settled in to my room. The rooms are basic but comfortable and warm. I had originally booked in to share a room with two other (strangers!) women, but once there, I decided I'd benefit more from the weekend if I was on my own.

I then spent a lovely afternoon sitting in the sun and writing, attending a deep relaxation class and asana class and generally absorbing the strange feeling that comes with not having to be anywhere else or having to do anything else. Bliss.

There followed a couple of days doing much the same. Eating simple, wholesome meals, which I did not have to prepare or think about in any way, other than partaking of them. Doing early morning meditation and yoga classes, gazing into soft candlelight and gently stretching body and mind in the pure stillness of the predawn. Attending classes throughout the day on a very interesting purifying practice and being led through amazing meditations by a calm souled teacher with a soft, peaceful voice. Sitting in the warm afternoon sun, writing. Going for gentle walks along gravel paths, hearing the satisfying crunch beneath my shoes. Participating in joyous, joyful Kirtan of an evening. Talking to like minded people on a similar path.

It wasn't all peace, love and mung beans. There were moments where it felt physically and psychically uncomfortable, where I even had the odd fleeting thought of simply getting into my car and leaving and heading home. But those moments passed and I realised that attending a retreat isn't meant to be about having fun, about having a good time. Its about confronting yourself, facing the YOU that is otherwise obscured by everyday life. The YOU that is covered by all of the distractions and muck and mire of simply living. Stripped of technology, obligations and responsibilities, you are left somewhat exposed and bare, and yes, it can be uncomfortable to see what lies there. But it's also quite liberating and it's definitely interesting.

In the end though, it simply wasn't time enough. I left feeling as though I was only just getting into the routine of the day and feeling into the vibrations of the ashram. I intend returning before the year ends and will stay for longer than a couple of nights next time. I've promised myself that the next visit would be longer the last couple of times and having been there now on a half a dozen or so occasions, it well and truly feels as though it's time to increase the intensity on the 'work' I do whilst there.

All in all though, it was a wonderful weekend and I'm glad I was able to get away to experience the ashram once again. I feel as though I have a lot more to say about it all but I'm still processing it so perhaps it will come out in later entries. Who knows?

Hari Om Tat Sat.

Winter Rain

For what feels like the last week, maybe more, it has rained every.single.day. As in, all day long. Every day, all day, for the last 7 or so days. The sea is very grey and very tumultuous and surges close to the grass line along the nearby beaches. The rock pools have been overwhelmed by the big seas, covered, non-existant for the time being.  Foolhardy surfers insist on throwing themselves at the mercy of the sea, albeit briefly. The water is cold, unrelenting and unforgiving. Mist hangs low over the escarpment. At times the top of the escarpment is utterly obscured by the drifting puffs and trails of low cloud and mist. The local creeks are full, rushing, milk chocolate brown, churning.

Now. Ordinarily, as Anne would describe it, I'd be in the Depths of Despair over the longevity and intensity of this cold, grey, so very grey, rainy rainy weather. But much to my surprise, I am enjoying it. It feels good to be all cosy and warm, either indoors with the gas heating pumping out warm deliciousness or outdoors, with a warm scarf wrapped around my neck and snug boots on my feet. Comfort food tastes good and soothing, wine is warming and the lounge, with it's inviting blanket and books amid the soft glow of candlelight, beckons. It all feels lazy, cosy, unhurried. The soft sound of the rain pattering and pittering outside lulls me into a state of acceptance. It is time for retreat, reflection.

It's a beautiful time of year.

Touched

Sometimes, oftentimes, it's the small, unexpected acts of kindness which restore your faith and mood and just generally leave you feeling warm and fuzzy. I was at work today and already in good spirits- the early morning sky on my way to work was clear as a bell and as blue as my Mother's eyes and I was pleasantly engaged with a lovely lady who I was assisting to breast-feed her lovely two day old son. Partway through my explanations to the new Mum, I heard a co-worker, who was not rostered on the shift, calling out my name as she walked around the unit searching for me.

When I greeted her outside the patient's room, I noted her lack of uniform, the day bag slung across her shoulders, her cheerful smile greeting me, pleased she'd tracked me down. In her hand she held a small, palm-sized package, which she'd brought in for me to borrow. It was a space blanket type of thing, designed to keep one warm in an emergency, in very cold conditions. Remarkably,  my co-worker had come in on one of her precious days off, after noting when I was rostered on next, solely to lend me something to keep me warm, should I need it, whilst away in Nepal. She has been to Nepal twice herself, having trekked the Annapurna Sanctuary and Annapurna Circuit and on both occasions had taken the emergency heatsheet with her. And here she was, lending it to me, to help keep me safe and warm. I was and am so touched. Such a small act really, but entirely selfless and completely heart-warming.

Thank you, Yvonne, I hope I love and enjoy Nepal as much as you have and do. And I hope to pay your kindness forward very soon.

Two Weeks!

Get ready for a surprise!

I realized tonight, that despite having several packing lists/ things to do for Nepal, I had neglected to add PASSPORT to any of those lists.

You know, that small, insignificant item you need to leave or enter countries.

It's just over two weeks until The Sister and I depart for Third World shores. I am equal parts Mummy Guilt and Sheer Excitement. I feel so blessed to have this opportunity to visit a country I have day dreamed and fantasised about for many, many years.


In other news, Of Monsters and Men are the shiz.

Prelude to a Bushwalk

On Sunday, as long as the weather cooperates, The Sister and I are going to go on a bush walk in order to a) gain some exercise and b) break in our brand new, virginal trekking boots. Apparently, walking or rather, trekking, in unbroken-in boots or shoes is very, very unwise and as such some breaking-in of said boots needs to take place. Sooner rather than later.

SO.

We shall most likely attempt to do the Giant Staircase/ Furber Steps walk in the Blue Mountains. As the name of the walk implies, it consists, in part, of walking down a series of many, many steep steps down the side of a cliff. Which will be interesting because, according to quite a few of the reviews on Trip Advisor (Holy Grail of Independent Travel Reviews), it is a walk neither for the faint-hearted or unfit due to the steepness and exposure to heights. Given that I am TERRIFIED of heights, it should prove to be an interesting descent to the valley floor.

Wish me luck.

39 Days

Thirty-nine days until The Sister and I depart for our trip to Nepal and Bangkok. To say I am excited would be an understatement. I am consumed with thoughts of what to do, what to organise and what to prepare in the coming (less than!) 6 weeks. Thus far, I have managed to accumulate most of the gear I will need to take and use throughout my trip, in particular for the trekking portion of the holiday. I think what has excited me more than anything is the fact that I have been purchasing items with the expectation that this will NOT be the last trip I do to Nepal. I have been reading blogs (again) which have covered peoples experiences of doing the Everest Base Camp trek and I am more determined than ever to do this trek in the next year or so myself. I cannot explain why I have to do this trek, I just know that I must. It has been something I've dreamed of for the past 12 years and the time has well and truly come for me to just do it.

That said, doing the 5 day Poon Hill trek, may well prove to be a completely hideous experience and I may discover that I detest walking for hours each day, having to use squat toilets and being deprived of a daily shower.

Somehow though, I don't think that will be the case. Time will tell, yes?

Last day of Summer

.....and it fecking well rained. The sky and sea were grey. And cool.

Typical.

Insert something meaningful here...

......because, for the love of all that's good, I cannot think of a single thing which I can write to commit to this blog.

Sorry. Fingers crossed this inertia will not last for long.

The black dog prowls in my backyard and I am trying hard to keep it at bay.

Seasick

What a delightful three days it has been!

Seasickness without the boat. Waves of nausea. For free!

Queasy. Like I've drunk waaaaay too many beers the night before. Except I haven't.

Ill. Lethargic. Sweaty. Mmmmm, so good.

Crap. Literally. And as a general expression for this horrid way to spend a few days.

Damn you, gastro virus and your vile inhabitance of my poor bowel.





Although, on the plus side, I'm closer to losing that 3kg I want to ditch before heading to Nepal in 10 weeks.

Three Songs...

....which I cannot get out of my head.

This lush loveliness:

This layered, melancholy:

And this, creepy, menacing and disturbing (song AND video):

And so ends the school holidays....

Sigh. Back to early mornings, rushing, nagging, shortened days, earlier nights, readers and homework. Not to mention the frenzied sandwich making, dodgy and harried hairstyling of unruly locks, the nagging, the mad rush to beat the clock which surely goes MUCH quicker on school days and the nagging. No more sleep-ins, lazy, cruisey days, lunch at two and dinner at eight for another ten or so weeks.

It's been a lovely month and a half, but as with all, time passes and things change. And so for now, the period of rest and rejuvenation ceases and the cycle of new learning (and nagging), begins.

Rain, Rain

"Rain, rain, go away
Come again, another day"

Except today, I'm actually kind of enjoying the soft pitter patter of the rain falling outside. It feels cozy and pleasant to be pottering around the house, while the kids (mostly) happily play together. We have no big plans for today, nothing in fact, and with the busy busy busy of the new school term, swimming, dancing etc looming ahead, that suits me just fine.  

Preparations

Tour paid.

Flights booked.

Accommodation in Bangkok, pre and post Nepal, booked.

Travel insurance booked.

Hiking socks, pants, top and jacket purchased.

Microfibre towel purchased.

Ran/walked, three times this week.

Butterflies of anticipation, nervousness and excitement, commenced.

A million things still to do.

Could it be?

....... that I WILL fulfill a dream I have held for the last 12 years? It has come up, in the most unexpected of ways, out of the blue. Last week, The Husband forwarded me an email about a trek in Nepal. Thus followed 5 days of frenzied research- could I? Couldn't I? Should I? Shouldn't I? I thought and researched and researched and thought. And late last night, I decided that, no, it was too much to do on my own, the prospect was a tad too intimidating. Not to mention too far away. And isolated. And scary. And.....insert lame excuse here....

The fact remained though, I felt, that in this 40th year of my life an adventure was needed and I thought I had one sorted out.

Until The Sister informed me today of a deal she had seen, to the same location The Husband had forwarded me 5 days ago.


I looked. I liked. A lot. The old, familiar yearning in me rose again and I half jokingly, in a very round about fashion, suggested to The Sister that we go.

Dear reader, she said would go.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I am going to Nepal.

New Year's Resolutions

Well, it's the 12th day into the the New Year and I have to admit, I have not heard a single New Year's Resolution being bandied about. Has making resolutions fallen out of fashion? Have people cottoned onto the fact that they are often made but seldom kept and realise what a waste of time they are? I myself, have made many a New Year's Resolution in the past and have dedicated whole, earnest, lists to them and yet, the end result is always the same- I achieve NONE of the things on my carefully written lists. So, with that in mind, this year, my New Year's resolutions are:

Zilch. Nada. Nothing. Zero. 

Bring it.

Self Discipline

Two words which brings a chill to the hearts and a heaviness to the souls to those of us who are more naturally inclined to be the exact opposite. Two words which drain the fun out of your day and conjure up flashes of brown, boredom, deprivation and drudgery. Self discipline? Bah! That's for vegans, breatharians and freaks who have nothing better to do, right?

Now, if by self discipline, you mean occasionally visiting the gym, taking a multivitamin four days out of seven (on a good week), eating Maccas only weekly and getting to bed before 1.30am more often than not, then yes, I have self discipline by the bucket load. I am practically bathing in it. If I were any more self disciplined I'd have.....


......finished my midwifery years ago.......

......be running 5k straight.......

.......have lost those last 5kg since having Boy Child......

......be debt free.........

......be a Home Owner, rather than a Filthy Renter......

Ah, hang on. STOP!! This is turning into a list of recriminations and that was not the intention of this post! See! See what simply discussing self discipline does to you? Fills you with regret and shame and guilt and oh my  goodness, I need to go and pour a big glass of wine, sit in front of the TV and forget all about all the things I haven't done.


BUT!!!

I make lists. Often. Whether or not I achieve those things on the lists is another matter. What does matter is that I am self disciplined enough to sit down and write those lists. It's a start, dammit.



The funny thing is though, I actually do feel SO much better when I go to bed earlier, go to the gym or go for a jog, eat well, drink less alcohol, spend less money.....it's just that it's SO much less fun.


Sigh.

Still Hot

I know, I know, it's hardly the most original or interesting post title but hell, like I mentioned earlier,  my brain is addled. With heat. Because it is STILL hot. Stupidly, uncomfortably, nauseatingly HOT.

I have taken to drinking beer in a desperate attempt to cool my innards (not really, I just enjoy enjoy drinking crispy cold beer on hot days. And nights.). I am waiting for the promised southerly to hit and cool this furnace, masquerading as a house, down. I'm half tempted to run to the beach and plunge into the cool, dark depths, but the double threat of sharks

and local village idiots

deters me.

So I sit here, beer on the bench beside me, frozen cloth on my head, ineffective fan at my back and I wait.

Stating the Obvious

So. It's hot today. Like, Hellishly, Devilishly Hot. With a capital H. True Blue, Australiana hot. The kids have flushed cheeks. My eyes are vaguely stinging from the heat. A headache lurks in the far reaches of my skull. I crave icy cold beer. The cat is lying around lethargically. Oh hang on, she always does that...Well, she looks hot. As much as a cat is able to look hot, that is. Because cats always kinda look as though they are in the final stages of Heat Induced Ennui. Perhaps I should dress her in a black beret and turtleneck jumper. Which would just make her even more hot and if she were even more hot, she'd look......dead, I guess. When you're as energetic as a slug, with limited movement, there's not much room for even less movement.

I think my brain is addled from the heat.