It’s 2013, do with it what you will!
Happy New Year, World!
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Category Archives: Dear Diary
Regrets? Not a one.
2012 Resolutions:
I must change.
I must remove all the excess.
I must get rid of all the clutter.
I must eat healthier food.
I must exercise.
I must read more, for pleasure and professionally.
I must watch less TV.
I must be more active in my own life.
Well, we are in the last few hours of 2012 and like millions of others, I feel a little tug to pause for reflection on the year that has been. I am not making any resolutions this new year, having decided that I am about as good as I am going to get (and hey, as a goddess, that is pretty damn good!)
At the turn of 2011 to 2012 I made the resolutions listed above. How did I go? I blitzed it; of course not!
Well, I changed. Who doesn’t as they live through another year, notch up another year on the birthday totem? We also started a new life, a country life; and I gained permanent employment in a role that I always desired, but took the long route to achieve. Happiness off the scale has been my reward.
Excess? Well, it was a slow walk to a crashing crescendo on that one. Budget cutbacks achieved some trimming. Moving achieved even more (do I pack the shit, or do I toss the shit? After packing about a gazillion boxes that question becomes way easier.) The final cut to excess was achieved through a mind shift that minimalism brought me more joy and far less stress.
Yes, indeed moving got the toss out regime into high gear, and we managed to downsize to a smaller house, but it is still obvious that I need to cull more than a little bit more. It will happen, the die is cast. It has become a mindset and a need, and so clutter has been controlled as well.
Food? Well, I would have classed that a big fat F for failure until the last few weeks when I think I finally got the light bulb moment. After yet one more bout of diverticulitis, and a pretty severe one, I have really looked at my diet. I have suffered from diverticulitis for over fifteen years now, and I do not believe that my diet really plays a large part in my chronic condition, though I avoid certain things as a precaution; anyone who has suffered the pain of an attack would do the same.
For months I have been trying to cut back on sugar in my diet. Yes, I of the chocolate and jelly baby eating sweet tooth. As my children joke, “Mum thinks lollies are a food group!” I eliminated sugar from my one coffee a day at work – woohoo! To cut a long food saga short, in the last weeks of 2012 I just didn’t want to feel second rate anymore, I want to have more energy and so I really working on what I eat; and when it is something not so good, at least the portion size. So, maybe not an F, but more of a D+.
Reading, well the professional reading went up off the scale; so much to learn. I started a professional Scoop.It to curate the information and to share it with colleagues. Along the line I joined a bookclub that has forced me to read things out of my usual comfort genre (biography and memoir), but I didn’t cut out the television watching as much as I planned. Heck, there was that ongoing sideshow called the US Presidential Election and I just couldn’t drag myself away. Then to have it followed by the Fiscal Cliff, what a gift for a comedy lover!
Exercise came with the move to the country, where just walking to the mailbox is more than I used to walk in a week living in the city! Exercise also came with the arrival of a puppy named Augie Dog, who loves to play, well he loves to play all the time, and any game! He also lowered our stress to levels not experienced in years
And the last resolution; to be more active in my life? I am, I know I am. I am grateful for and I appreciate everyone in my life, and everything I have. My blessings are many and I try to embrace each moment. I even try to be nice, even though it goes against my natural inclinations, for I find nice exhausting; but I do try.
Life is rarely what we hope or wish, but all we can do is our best and try to be resilient. I have tried to ride the roller coaster and yet set my own path at the same time. Win some, lose some, for sure, but I try to stay true to myself, and try to stop others setting my life agenda. Life? I am in it.
silk purses and sow’s ears
Every day I wake up, stand at the bedroom window and look at the garden, the trees, and the hills beyond and feel so refreshed and optimistic. There is something about returning to one’s roots, in my case the country, and being close to nature that infuses the spirit with peace and serenity.
There is this little bubble of joy inside of me that I am not sure I have ever experienced before in my life. As Daughter1 commented on Christmas Day, “It is as though you all [Mr FD, Son and I] exhaled when you moved here.” She added that she had never realised how much we must have all hated living in the city until she saw how happy we are now. “It is though you all inhaled and held on tight all those years [10 years] and now you are breathing again”.
All the years of remaking myself – redundancy in 2008, retraining to become a teacher, starting a new career in education in 2009, searching for a full time permanent job until 2012, has been an adventure for sure. It has also been stressful and often uncertain, but the journey has brought me here and for that I can only be grateful. As I often write, we can’t help what happens to us, but we can help how we deal with it, and I like to think that I have tried to make the most of what has come my way.
So, in 2013 I am not making any New Year’s resolutions. After decades of trying to perfect myself, I think I know that I am about as perfect as I am going to get. I am what I am, and time to enjoy what I have and not waste precious time and energy. After all there is only one of me, and that is enough for the world, and me!
Saturday morning in the park with Freud
My dream started with a composting toilet.
It was a large square wooden pedestal, or more accurately “thunderbox” in the Australian vernacular, but exquisitely crafter from Nordic pine. It appeared to be sited into a grassy knoll in the cubicle. (I must have been channeling the London Olympics opening ceremony with its meadows and hills). There was moss and flowering nasturtium clustered around the wooden base.
And it was in the middle of New York.
It was in a public restroom/ toilets. I waited my turn patiently, but I was a little anxious that men kept coming into the restroom, and they appeared oblivious when I pointed out the females only sign.
I soon resigned myself to their presence and took my turn in the cubicle, but it appeared that people kept popping their heads over the top and giving their opinions about everything.
I announced myself as a first time Australian in New York and walked out to use the basins. This was five stars with toothbrushes and warm towels for my use. It was then that I noticed a female attendant, and started to become anxious about how to tip her; or rather how much to tip her, and explained that I was Australian and we don’t tip. I wanted to give her five dollars, but she insisted on a dollar, and I could keep the toothbrush as I appeared to have forgotten my own. I resisted and gave her five dollars, which she ripped into pieces.
This upset me, as ripping it up meant that neither of us had the five dollars, so she picked the pieces up again and I left with the toothbrush.
When I walked outside, there was a long queue to an Indie outdoor concert where my sister was waiting. My sister was not my real sister, may I add, and I was not really me. We were both very pretty, happy twenty somethings.
By now, I felt like I was in a Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movie; especially when I walked along the queue and was joined by a tall handsome young man and his friend, who chose to sit with my sister and I. We were soon laughing and romance was obviously in the air.
My brain was telling me that I had the plot for a romantic comedy, that I was on the road to replace the lately departed Nora Ephron, and having some fun along the way when Mr FD’s voice broke though and he started rambling on about snakes.
His dream ended my dream. I wonder what Professor Freud would make of that!
black friday
Everyone likes to comfort eat, and as I have mentioned previously, I bake muffins when I am particularly stressed. I also have a special dish that I cook when I am depressed or sad, and that is spaghetti bolognaise. It is one of the dishes that I get lost in, adding just about anything and everything from the pantry and in the fridge, as well as increasing amounts of red wine, and nothing can mess it up. (And that is one glass for the pot and one for the cook, according to mood, naturally).
Today, I came home from work and got my largest saucepan out and set to brewing bolognaise. It was only 2 o’clock in the afternoon, but I needed to reoccupy my mind with something other than the thoughts it had been having since 8.30 this morning.
At 8.30, just as we were assembling for our second day of professional development (PD), staff was called to the staff room. When we all assembled we were informed of the death of a much beloved colleague. I had sat beside this man all day yesterday throughout the PD, sharing stories and chatting. He had become my closest friend since I arrived at the school, and was a mentor that I both respected and appreciated.
Details are few, all we know is that he died of a heart attack sometime overnight. He was 60, his youngest child is only 15 years of age and a student at the school. He had been at the school since 1982 and he led the responsible thinking team working with some of our most troubled students. He could be incredibly arrogant at times, and always had an opinion about everything, but he was open, honest, just, and had one of the kindest hearts I have ever had the honour of experiencing. He left big footprints.
Even though I had only known him since I started at the school in January; he was one of the first people to greet me, I had grown very fond of him. Hardly a day went by when he didn’t stop by my office and have a few words with me. We planned many things for the future together. He also provided me with what I knew immediately was a life defining moment when he introduced me to the theories that prefaced all his work in responsible thinking and behaviour management. He gave me understanding that the only thing in life I can control is self, and so not to waste energy on things or people I cannot control. I changed my thoughts and I changed my life. He walked the talk every day, in every way.
I will continue walking that talk every day; for me and for him.
as I lay me down to sleep
Dear Diary,
As a first day, the first day of 2012 was rewarding. Mr FD and I greeted the New Year by trying to flick between television channels trying to find a decent broadcast of the fireworks. Eventually we settled for a delayed broadcast of the Sydney fireworks due to our state of Queensland not following daylight saving time. All was well, and the New Year was welcomed with a cup of tea on my behalf! Wild woman that I am!
The morning was spent working on my office area, and I was able to box up two boxes of books for collection by Lifeline for their annual Bookfest. I have more books to sort, as a result of too many years working in bookshops and receiving a 40 percent staff discount! I never thought I would ever part with my books, but now I see so many as clutter. They have done their task and now it is time for them to find new homes.
The afternoon, was spent in the garden as I planned. I have cleaned all the palm fronds from the garden, and pruned everything that I wanted to in the back garden. Mr FD still has mulching to catch up on, and then we will move to the front garden. Hedges!
I phoned my Mum and we did our annual “oh I haven’t spoken to you since last year” routine. My sister and BIL were taking her out to lunch to celebrate the day, so no guilt there for me! As I said, it was a good day – no guilt at all!
One day done, 365 to go – remember this is a leap year!
Goodnight, sleep tight.
FD
[kur-ij, kuhr-]
Dear Diary,
courage.
courage for me is reliance on my own inner strength and will power
It takes courage to do something I’ve never done before.
This journey needs courage in that I need to believe that I will stick with my plan.
To follow my dreams I need courage.
But if I fail, I have still gained. How much I gain, and how far I go is up to me.
Courage and effort = success.
Way to go!
Failing to plan, is planning to fail
Dear Diary,
I was thinking about the new year and how we all rush to make resolutions that most of us fail to keep. I have a pretty good life, not perfect, has been better, but in some ways has been worse too. Without a doubt I could do a few simple things that would make my life better, and therefore me happier. And of course we all know that a happy mother makes a happy home!
This led me to ponder why I don’t do the things I think I should to have that happiness.
I deserve to be happy, don’t I? Of course. Then what can I do to achieve the happiness I want to fill my life ? What action can I take to make my desires come true?
What are my musts? What must happen in my life for a fundamental change to occur?
I must change.
I must remove all the excess
I must get rid of all the clutter.
I must eat healthier food.
I must exercise.
I must read more, for pleasure and professionally.
I must watch less TV.
I must be more active in my own life.
I want nothing more to accomplish my happiness. I have everything I need to fill my life with this happiness.
So why wait for the new year? Haven’t I already made a start? My list is made, I know what I must do… the journey begins now.
Dear Diary
Did you keep a diary, or a journal when you were a child, a teenager, or a single person?
I started a diary when I was about 13 and wrote in it most days until I was about 19. Mr FD and I married when I was 19 (Mr FD was 27 and basked in the label of “cradle snatcher”) and after that lack of “privacy” and then babies crowded out the habit. I kept those diaries until about 10 years ago when we were moving, and in a moment of common sense I threw them into the garbage.
Sometimes now I wonder if that was the right or wrong thing to do. Not the diary writing, that was certainly a good thing. I think it kept me sane, especially when I was going through all the medical issues of surgery and the loss of my eye. No doubt the teenage years require a special friend to confide in and my diary was just that friend.
No, I wonder if perhaps I should have kept them. Why I am not sure. I certainly wouldn’t have ever wanted anyone to read them. I doubt if I would have ever read them again either, as there were many raw emotions threaded into my words. There was certainly nothing that would have meant anything to prosperity, or influence the understanding of history. Small town girl does growing up.
So, perhaps it is just the loss of the younger version of myself, that part of my identity that formed years ago and helped me become the person I am today, that I lament throwing out.
I wonder if the Facebook generation, whose every thought and emotion appears to go global, will have the same thoughts and feelings about their online lives in the years to come. No consideration of privacy for them though. No place for regret. No choice to keep hidden or to throw away. It is all out there, forever.
Did you keep a diary, or a journal?
Monday Monday
Monday - wonder where this week will lead us?
