The manuscript is progressing and I’m in the middle of year eleven. It’s a whirlwind time with senior school responsibilities and study and boys … At 59, I’m recalling what it was like to be fifteen, anorexic and naive. I’m looking at my two-dimensional view of the world and that of my greatest influencers, my father.
After my fifteenth birthday, our relationship changed and he distanced himself from me. Loving me became Mama’s job. But dad’s views underpinned our lives, both hers and mine.
Everyday I discover something new. That’s how I choose to live my life. Tackling my struggle to stay on top of the inner critic, I’ve had to embrace honesty and self-awareness. My body talks to me. Yours does too.
But do you hear it?
It happened amidst the chaos, the email that piqued my curiosity. I read it. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. It was a dangerous link with the past. I closed it and decided to sleep on it.
The next morning, I looked up at he Paperbark trees glowing in the golden light of the morning sun. Picking up the phone, I reopened the email; the job offer beckoned. A warm glow spread through my body, maybe I should go back.
Is it necessary to hit rock bottom?
Pain it seems is an effective teacher because it makes life intolerable. It interferes with joy and peace. Being overwhelmed kept me trapped in a bad situation. I’ve often been asked, ‘How did you stop doing that?’
A difficult decision had come to fruition, I’d sold a dream I’d created, the family had grown up. Stress, anxiety, overwhelm… Life gave me lemons but I struggled with the recipe for lemonade. Change still tasted a tad sour.
My feelings took me back to when I was fourteen.
Question: ‘How do you eat an elephant?’
Answer: ‘One bite at a time.’
New projects can be like this. Huge, Grey and Shadowy,
the illusion of being in a mist. Mulling around in that confused head space is
I am embarking on a new project, that leap into the unknown that I alluded to in last week’s blog. A new book. A new challenge. Methodical by nature, I find structure keeps me on track. Shamelessly, I admit that I like lists. They provide a point of reference and also reinforce achievement.
storm clouds gather
circle and ensnare
it started like that yesterday
a poor excuse for an experience
The decision loomed, change and move forward or … Books in cupboards = books not in the hands of readers. Inspired by a new idea, I had dropped copies of Schicksal within regional Victoria. A trip up the Newell Highway to Brisbane, my place of birth, gave me further scope to share my book.
The journey took me down memory lane to a time when my parents had made the same journey visiting me in Melbourne. Synchronous moments began commanding my attention. I tried to ignore them, immersing myself in the beauty of the Australian landscape.
Its been rather a big week. After some time in the wash, swishing around, lacking clarity; I began to form a direction. 24″ Waste, so titled until, I think of a better one, has been an incredible challenge.
Mental health… Anorexia… migrant background… the adolescent world…
On Thursday evening after a haphazard round of golf on a grey, cold afternoon, I took the Brazilian Guavas out of the fridge, their scent filled the air. The little reddish purple fruits given to me by one of the dietitians at work.