Spring cleaning...and the benefits of nose hair!

So this morning mum popped in for a cuppa and while we were chatting I moved over to the bookshelf where the tv is and noticed that a lovely piece of pottery sitting there appeared to have a rather flecked and speckled appearance I hadn't really appreciated before. I picked it up and ran my finger across it and oh dear! The speckled appearance was all the soot, dust, dirt! It came off on my finger and let me know - it's time for a 'Spring Clean'. So I have 'sprung' to action. Curtains are down and swishing about in eucalyptus fragranced bubbly bliss out in the washing machine...I hope they will survive; it's on 'Delicates'. Fingers crossed. Mum kindly pointed out a cobweb and I have since discovered lots more around the curtain rods. And I'm sitting here writing. Well a girl has to do what a girl has to do! Call it procrastination if you like. I don't mind. 

As I glance around the room, I realise that winter months...arriving home late from work, focused on feeding myself and unwinding at the computer or tv screen...mean that I've neglected housework apart from the bits that I've had to do. I don't like living in a dirty place. I thought it was clean...ish. But my eyesight is going and I have so much else to do all the time, that it does get relegated to the end of the list quite often. It's only dust. Not hurting anyone. However, today I have made a start and I'll tackle it in bits n pieces. Having a wood fire does rather increase the amount of dirt that finds its way into a home. Carting wood in is one thing and the smoke from the fire is making a lot of sooty fallout. I was  a bit surprised to see how much of it there was. I guess I haven't dusted for a while, but what bothers me most is that it must be in the air all the time and I'm busy breathing it in. Thank goodness for nose hairs. You know, those annoying little numbers that start to peek out beyond the end of your nose as you get older. Have you ever tweaked one of those? I have. It's one thing I know that brings tears to my eye; I just can't believe how much it hurts! I don't have to do it often...a good thing...just now and then. Well, right now I'm feeling really grateful for my nose hair because it might be stopping most of that sooty gunk from getting into my lungs, and frankly, I'd rather have it on the furniture than in my lungs. 

I'm an ex-smoker. You know what we're like. Extreme-ist haters of smoke and anything smoke or soot like in or on our person. I was a died in the wool Serious Smoker in my youth. My beautiful but misguided grandmother was a committed smoker of Park Drive cigarettes, and somehow she managed to get me to start smoking them too at the tender age of eleven. I know. Shocking! We all have skeletons in our cupboards you know...I'm just letting you meet a few of mine! So I became a smoker. I used to pinch money from my dad's 50 cent piece collection which was (rather oddly) housed in a fancy old plastic talcum power dish was a lid. I think it was probably an off cast from one of mum's birthday or Christmas gifts. In fact I think it may have been Avon...Anyway, in an effort to increase my popularity with my school mates, I'd buy Woodbines which back then were about 22 cents a packet of ten. I think the smaller packs were easier to hide and easier to afford on stolen 50 cent pieces. I only ever took fifty cents at a time and I only stopped when the collection got down to one lonely piece staring at me from the bottom of the bowl. I was afraid that if I took that one, he'd notice. Just quietly, I reckon he had noticed already and was stashing them somewhere else, otherwise that little goldmine would never have dried up! 

I could tell you more about smoking; about biddies and Viscount and Alpine...St Moritz and Cocktail Sobranies... but for now I won't. I'll get back to stopping which happened several times during my late teens and early twenties but happened properly when I was in my early thirties and planning my first baby. I'd never been able to stand seeing anyone smoking around babies and I knew that smoking could affect a baby even before it was born. So I stopped. I had good motivation. I've never had another smoke and I'm proud of that. Sometimes the hardest things are just about finding the right motivation and then boom...it's all over. Then I read somewhere that it takes fifteen years for a smoker's lungs to get back to the point where you have equal chances of getting lung cancer as a non smoker. After stopping that is. So I celebrated all year on that fifteenth year because I felt like it was a hell of an achievement to have stayed stopped for all that time. I'm still proud of myself for that. I'm really very lucky. I am not tempted to smoke any more and haven't been for years. I had a hair analysis done long years ago and one of the things I proved intolerant to was cigarette smoke. Yep. It's really not nice when you are an ex-smoker. I think we tend to have a super sensitivity. So apologies to those of you that might think we just carry on. Sorry. We can't help it. Perhaps one day you will know.

So back again to the Spring Cleaning. I'm about to go and get the curtains out of the machine. Wish me luck. It's a beautiful day here. I might just find time to get some cobwebs down and the dusting and vacuuming done in time to get ready to hit the town tonight. I'm off to see Phantom of the Opera!! Can't wait. See you tomorrow or the next day. Let me know your Spring Cleaning tips. I think I might be needing them over the next few weeks. Oh, by the way...the grout is still looking mighty fine!!

Enlightenment...I really was taken aback by the amount of dust in my lounge, but then I had a little revelation. I had recently been given a load of wood by some friends who said it made too much ash. I of course, thought it was ash in the bottom of the fire, but now realise that it is very fine ash that has spread around the place every time I've opened the door of the fire. It was blackwood (a Tasmanian wattle) and it burns very well and very hot so I've had some really beaut fires but, a friend told me, it does make a lot of ash! All the same I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I'm grateful for the wood and wonderful heat it provides. I'll have to dust a bit more often and keep my nose hairs in good trim until the fire is back on a hardwood diet!

Forgive me for this one...If I Was Miss Universe

Just thinking about the state of the world and how I wish so many things could be mended and remembering that I've heard that love is the answer. To every problem. Love. I wonder what I'd say in my speech if I was Miss Universe 2013. I've never had the chance to write such a speech or to win such a contest, but what if I did...what would I say? It's a tough call. Would I say 'love is the answer'?

Love will set us free. Love will put us back on track. Love will mend the broken hearted and cause the wounded earth to heal. Is love enough? I can understand the philosophy of love being enough...I really can. If everything we do is through the lens of love then we will be constantly thinking about the consequences of our actions on others and on our home planet Earth. How many people would listen to a message like that one? It might need to be a bit more hard-hitting, although that one is probably making the toughest call of all. To do everything through the lens of love would simply be the greatest challenge possible for most of us. We are selfish beings for the most part. We want. We want. We want. We think we need. People say I need a new Iphone. I need some new boots. I need. Most of the time these people have various and ample modes of communication but they are just not satisfied unless they have the latest and the greatest. Even when they have that, satisfaction is fleeting because the very clever marketers are soon busy selling the next model, and suddenly the 'marvel that was' has lost its sheen and become the has-been of whatever it was...giving rise to further imagined need.

Boots. I need boots. How many of us that say that really need boots. Need. I have to say right now that I'd like a pair of dress boots. It would be nice to have them. If I wasn't sponsoring a little girl in East Timor then maybe I could have bought some by now. But I will not give up helping that little person for boots. Who could imagine what happened to me recently. Someone bought me a pair of walking boots. Took me to the camping store and bought me the best pair of boots on the rack. Two hundred and fifty dollars worth. Far out! Who could have guessed that someone would choose to do that? I didn't ask but there they were. The most beautiful walking boots I've ever seen. Mine. I didn't really need walking boots. But now that I have them I can tackle some of the great walks I've thought about doing...in greater comfort and style. I have to say that they are probably not the sort of thing Miss Universe would wear, but they suit me fine. As for dress boots - I have in mind a nice pair of flat soled stylish smart black boots; perhaps long ones that I could wear with a skirt if I ever got one. I saw a very attractive pair recently - black with a brown cuff on the top. Haha I'm a jeans and sweater kind of girl really, but now and then it's nice to dress up and sometimes it's necessary to dress up for professional reasons...like interviews and meetings. In the meantime I have shoes that will do.

I see pictures of people online and on tv that have need. Real need. They need food. They need shelter. They need comfort. They need support. They need family. They need friends. They need help.They need people to stop warring around them and dropping germ bombs. They need to have a way to remove land mines from their country so that children and adults don't have their limbs blown off.  That is need. The rest is want. If we got rid of wanting then perhaps we could also get rid of need. Perhaps if we weren't quite so concerned about having the latest and greatest, but just about being reasonably warm, dry, comfortable and clothed, perhaps we could help more of the people who really need it. What do you think? What would you be willing to go without to help someone else? Someone you didn't know? Someone who was different to you? Someone who spoke a different language, had different beliefs to yours or who had different coloured skin. Is there anything in your life that you'd be willing to give up or cut back on in order to ease someone else's suffering. Sometimes I think the thing that stops us is fear. Love is the opposite of fear. But fear is the thing that makes us say things like...I don't give to charity because it doesn't get to the people who need it. I could say that about the bit I give each month for the little girl in East Timor. I could. But I don't. I choose to believe that it helps her to have a better life. It might not be a lot better but if it's helping her to get some sort of education then it has to be a good thing. I will keep giving as long as I'm able. Sometimes when bills come in I have to suspend the payments for a couple of months. The charity is very good about it and they keep me in touch with the same little girl regardless. 

I struggle when I see so much need. I think that I can't make a difference. That's fear too. Fear that stops us from doing something. I can't fix everything but I can fix something. I can help someone in some small way and so I will. I have friends who are doing amazing and wonderful things...setting up orphanages or schools and raising awareness on all sorts of issues. Sometimes I think they are so great and I am so small...there is nothing I can do. But that is wrong thinking. All of us can do something to make the world a better place for someone else. Sometimes our efforts might be rejected or put down but don't let that stop you from doing what you can. Some folks just like to discourage others. Perhaps they feel guilty when they see you trying to make a difference. Don't wear it. Do what you believe is right. Life is not a popularity contest. 

If I was Miss Universe I'd say:
Love more. Want less. Give more. Help more. Smile more. Hug more. Be encouraged. You can make a difference. Right where you are. When you can't do something yourself, support others who can. Love yourself. Love your friends. Love your family. Love your job. Love your work colleagues. Love the planet. Love. Thank you. 

Crowd control and a nice cup of tea

At the end of what was a pretty rough day (relief teaching can be like that sometimes), fraught with feelings of inadequacy and wondering what I could have done differently, I stopped in at one of my favourite coffee shops to sit a while, have a cuppa and reflect. I ordered a cup of English Breakfast tea. This was no time to be trying something new, but rather a time to call on the security of a beverage I was sure of. My confidence had been shaken and I needed to find my feet again. English Breakfast tea with soy milk. It arrived promptly guided by my number 17 flag which I'd put on the visible end of the table whilst I secreted myself away behind a strategically placed bookshelf in order to give myself a little quiet time. It had been a noisy day in a classroom heavily loaded with immature testosterone vessels who spent much of the day playing one-up-man-ship with ways to undermine the relief teacher (me)!

I'd picked up a magazine whilst I was waiting - Vanity Fair - I've never looked at one of those before, and yes, I was feeling brave enough for a new mag, even if a familiar beverage was needed. I'd tentatively picked up a House and Garden but replaced it wanting something more 'readable'. I started to read an article in the Vanity Fair about a comedienne. I can't remember the name. I didn't get far into the article before I realised that I really just wanted to look at the pictures. I really didn't want to have to think or process any more words. I had listened to words and spoken words all day long and I needed to rest my mind. I couldn't just sit. I needed a distraction. My eyes were stinging from the tears I'd shed. Yes teachers cry sometimes. Probably more often than you might think. We are people. We are human. We feel.

I remember seeing a picture in the magazine. It was some sort of ridiculous necklace made from fabulous metals and jewels and tassels of silk or similar, yet fashioned to resemble a zip. I remember reading a few words; able to convert to a bracelet. I can remember thinking something like...are you kidding?...how ridiculous. How ridiculous that somewhere someone is busy designing and making necklaces modelled on zippers and  bedecked with clutter that looks like it fell out of Grandma's sewing box. How ridiculous that someone brought that to a studio and that someone else took a photograph of it (perhaps several before they got the lighting right) and then someone else took the photo of the hideous and stupid necklace thing and printed it on  hundreds of thousands of pieces of glossy paper (what is the circulation of Vanity Fair I wonder now?) and someone else takes the stacks of paper which are tucked inside magazines with other bits of glossy papered images and loads them into trucks, vans, planes, trains or ships perhaps and transports them all around the world. Other people take the magazines and put them on shelves and we wander in looking for a little entertainment or a little something to distract us from what's really happening in the world around us and we pay good money for stupid pictures of stupid necklaces that people somewhere designed. When we get tired of them cluttering up the coffee table, we take them to op shops or coffee shops and people like me who don't want to buy them pick them up there for a browse. It's completely mad really. 

True confession - I had a Banana Choc Chip Muffin With Coffee Icing with the English Breakfast Tea. It was not new. I have had one before. A long time ago. Well, perhaps it was new. It was disappointing. Too sweet. The icing too thick and too hard. I'm sure last time it was soft and creamy and delicious. The Muffin was dry and crumbly. Not moist and delicious like last time. It was like being ripped off. I didn't get what I went in for.  A bit like the day at school had been. I didn't go in to be so challenged. I didn't go in to be reminded yet again how little a teacher has to work with these days. I didn't go in to find out that so many kids have little or no respect for others. When you are in every day, or at least fairly often, most kids might try you out a bit, but you find a bit of middle ground where there is some give and take both ways and you manage to organise things so that there is learning happening. You get to the end of the day with some joy about what has taken place. There is usually some satisfaction, even on a rough day, that overall you are making a difference for those kids. You know them. When you go in as a relief teacher, the kids are not thinking that they will see you again tomorrow so you can give them a detention or have some sort of follow up if they are out of line. They know you're only there for today. They know that you know you're only there for the day. Maybe they think that because of that you don't care about them. I do.

The Muffin was disappointing but I absent-mindedly broke it into small pieces and ate most of it while I looked at the pictures in the magazine. I ate about half of the icing. Importantly, the English Breakfast tea was very good. It soothed my jangled nerves somewhat and gave me time to consider that for the most part the kids will have gone home and completely forgotten about the day. I needed to try and do the same. It is a professional obligation that I reflect on the day and think about what went well and what didn't. It is an obligation to think about how I could do things differently next time. It is an obligation to try and find ways to do my work more effectively and to do my very best to engage all of my students in tasks that will interest and challenge them. It's difficult to do that when you are only there for one day, but I do the best I can. It's challenging when you're there every day too but at least you can build on the kids interests as you get to know them. You get to have a pretty good idea about what will work in your own classroom. It is not my professional obligation to be perfect. I am human and I work with a bunch of young humans I have never met before...in their space; their classroom...not mine. I am an invader; an interloper. I am not to be trusted I am to be tried. And today that is what happened. I was tried. 

I was so glad I could take a little time out with a muffin and a cuppa before driving home. My eyes are still sore from tears. I was lucky to have someone here to talk to about it all when I got home. It helps to be reminded that when you work with people there is so much uncertainty and so much you have no control over. It is good to be reminded that I head out to work in the morning to do good. I go to make some kind of difference in kids' lives. I go to help them find the things they are passionate about and to help them find the best way for them to learn. Sometimes things don't look all that pretty at the end of the day, but I went meaning to do good things for kids. I just need to remember that next time. I can forgive myself for not being able to control every little thing that happens in the day. I can forgive the kids for trying me out. I can imagine some of the homes and circumstances they come from when I see their aggression and care-less attitude. 

Relief teaching is not for the faint-hearted that's for sure. Some days it feels more like crowd control than teaching. I am brave. I am ok. I am probably way too soft-hearted and way too ready to give kids the benefit of the doubt. That's what allows me to keep going back for more. But give them an inch and they'll take a mile. Every time. The hardest thing to take  is seeing children who have been raised to be kind, courteous, respectful and considerate people being subject to the behaviours of the ones who have not had such things instilled in them as a way of being. I feel so much for the kids - all of them.

PS There is a lot to be said for a mature testosterone vessel who can listen appreciatively and gently reassure me that I do what I do for all the right reasons. I'm grateful.

Stepping outside the box!

It was such a great day at school today! It was rich and busy and fun. I came home feeling so fulfilled. I am stepping out of the box where the teacher owns the classroom and parents are invaders who come to judge and criticise (that is probably a bit harsh, but it can be quite daunting when they come early to collect the children and stand watching over you all for the last ten minutes of the day) into a space where I recognise and accept parents in their role as co-educators of their children. In fact, they are the primary educators of their children. That has to be respected. In a sense I am beginning to put that expectation out there. It's not all up to me in the classroom. I don't 'own' it. It's up to me to provide a space where learning happens...where learning is promoted and initiated by the careful and caring placement of words, materials and people. 

Today, as our knitting and craft afternoon came to a close the few parents were packing up to 'leave' or to wait by the door until the bell went at the end of the day, I invited one of the mums to read to the children. I had quite a lot of materials to pack away and had things to get to after school and was feeling a bit squeezed for time. I asked her if she would mind reading a story to the children while I packed up. I hope she felt comfortable with that. She has been in the classroom on most Monday afternoons for the last term and a half so knows the children quite well. She did a great job with the children and the reading. The kids loved the novelty of it all and I had time to get things organised by the time the bell went. It felt great. It felt great to hand it over to someone else to be 'centre-stage' for a little while. It felt great to see the children enjoying seeing one of their mums in this role. It felt great to be challenging the 'status quo'. 

One of the things I love about teaching young children is that I get to know their families too. They are all great people from such different backgrounds and circumstances. They all love their kids and they are all teachers in their own right. These kids have learned to walk and talk and do all manner of things before they get to school. Parents and families teach morals, manners, habits and rituals to the children in their care. I want to honour the massive job parents do and become a helper in their child's education and a guide perhaps, or a problem solver. I'd like to be a collaborator in the education of their children and not so much a dictator. I think if families can work more closely with teachers, and teachers be open to working more with families and bringing school, home and community closer together, then our young people must benefit from it. If we can create some 'green corridors' between home and school so that children flow more seamlessly between the two; if parents are able and encouraged to spend more time in the classroom learning alongside their children, imagine what could be achieved.  

I know it probably seems a bit idealistic and I know it's the teachers's job to teach, but imagine if we had more support from home. Imagine if parents were welcomed into class to see what we were doing and to participate and begin to understand what we are all working towards in schoolrooms these days. It's not like the 'old days' that many parents remember. Times have changed. We can keep them changing too. We can do what is good for kids, and that is to build a cohesive network of people around them to support their learning and growth into the community. 

One of the mums asked today if we'd be continuing with the crafty afternoons each Monday. I am saying 'yes!' to that. It has been a rich and wonderful time watching the children flourish under so much attention. They have taken on tasks they could never have achieved with just me in the room with them. With support kids can do amazing things. They have incredible courage and ideas. We have the knowledge and experience to help them explore their ideas and create new realities for themselves. We can help them build from their designs. I am lucky to work with a bunch of talented and dedicated teachers who bless me so often with their vast knowledge and experience of teaching and learning. I am lucky to work with a bunch of great kids, full of enthusiasm and fun and curiosity and courage. I am lucky to work with fantastic teacher aides who care so much for the kids and always know just what needs to be fetched or fixed or done in a crisis! I am lucky to work with a bunch of dedicated parents who are willing to step out of the box with me and come into the classroom and go with the flow. We're doing our best together and working it out as we go along. I see lots of smiles on everyone so it's got to be good. 

Wouldn't it be great to hear everyone say "WE LOVE SCHOOL!!" That's where I'm heading!

Doing too much?

Women under stress. I see them all the time. I hear them speak of their weariness and their inability to say "No". I see them with tired eyes and the spring missing from their step. I see them struggling to juggle all the responsibilities they've taken on and yet still taking on more. I see them forgetting things they should remember. I see them getting migraines and influenza and cancer and still they keep going. 
I see them gazing straight ahead and putting one foot in front of the other so that they just keep going and don't let anyone down. 

They see other women, other people, not show up for meetings. They see other women taking time to go to the hairdresser or to have a massage or manicure. They see other women taking a holiday; a night in town or a trip to Europe. They hold the fort while the other women take time out to nurture themselves. Ladies! Please stop! Stop martyring yourself in the name of being perfect. Please. Stop. Breathe. Give yourself a little time to live your life at a slower pace. 

Why do we do it? Why do we take on doing more than we're really comfortable doing? Could it be that we think we need to do more and more and more to be seen as productive or useful or even, heaven forbid, acceptable human beings? I think of a classic cartoon I once saw with a woman on one side pushing a shopping trolley of groceries around the supermarket captioned 'Woman with Cancer' and on the other side a man bundled up in bed looking miserable with thermometer in his mouth and glass of hot lemon the bedside table along with myriad bottles of tablets captioned 'Man with Flu'. Seems to me we expect ourselves to keep going no matter what!  

Have you noticed how the women who take time for living...for life itself...seem to have more...of everything? They smile more. They are more relaxed. They have made time for coffee with friends or time to just sit and do nothing. Other people do more for them. We know life is short. Could it be that we are so worried that we will run out of time before we get everything done. It will. The list will never get shorter; the demands never less unless you do something about it. 

Let me tell you something...make a suggestion. If you can slow down you will get more out of life. You will make time to notice and enjoy the moments in the day that scoot past unnoticed when you are chasing from one commitment to another. Those moments are the ones that add richness and joy to life.

What is the answer do you think, to all this over-committing we do? The only one I can think of is to ask yourself two simple questions. First ask yourself...What do I want my life to feel like or how do I want to feel? Write it down. I want my life to feel...or I want to feel...

Here are some words that might be helpful in writing a workable description:

Calm Creative Relaxed Full Interesting Fulfilling Satisfying Rich Comfortable Happy Friendly Worthwhile Wise Fit Wonderful Exciting Free Curious Lazy Busy Frantic Frazzled Regimented Ordered Predictable Unpredictable Contributing Accepting Positive Controlled Innovative...or others of your choice!

The second question to ask yourself is "Will this new thing be heading me towards the kind of life I want to live?" Keep in mind that you only get one crack at life and as we recognised earlier, it is short, so you may as well choose to do things with an end result in mind...to live the kind of life you want to live. We are lucky to have the luxury of choice in so much of what we do. Try really hard not to take on things you really don't want to do because you think you  will feel guilty if you say "No". Feeling guilty affects you and no one else. No one else cares if you feel guilty. It won't get you any Brownie Points, so you may as well not bother with it. This might seem a bit harsh, but I've been one of those women that takes on things she doesn't really want to. A little while ago I decided to stop and to think more about what I allow into my life. I currently have some responsibilities that I'm not thrilled about but they are short-term and I will not be replacing them with other responsibilities when they are finished. Just by the way I did choose to take them on!

I have an excellent reason for not taking on anything I don't think will add richness and pleasure to my life (or a little challenge if that is what I wish to have). The reason is that I have a massive list of things I DO want to do with my life. If I take on things that others want me to do, then I won't have time to do the things I want to do! Well how crazy would that be?? I have a number of creative pursuits on the go including a quilt I am keen to get finished for one very beautiful daughter. I have relationships with friends and family to nurture and my physical, intellectual, emotional and spiritual self to care for. I have writing to do! 

All these things take time and if I'm busy doing stuff that I don't want to do I'm going to feel resentment building in my gut and that will eventually and inevitably make me ill in one way or another. So there it is. I know what I want my life to look like and feel like. It won't be the same as yours or anyone else's probably. Life is a very individual thing but we have to take the reins of our lives back and decide what we want to do with our time on Earth. You can be busy from 'go to whoa' if you want to be, or you can be chilled and relaxed and taking it easy every day. We all have some things we have to do. We might not have the luxury to choose all of what happens in our lives, but for our own sake we really must identify what we can have a say in and begin to make choices that feel right. 

Wishing you love and time to live a life that is both a gift to you and a gift to the world. Choose wisely, choose well, choose for you. 

PS I read a book a long time ago that got me thinking about this. It was Women Of Silence by Gayle Gawler. It is an excellent read and explores the patterns and stories in women with breast cancer. Take care of yourselves beautiful women out there.

100 Things I Like - a challenge

It's the weekend and such a happy one after a full and busy week! This morning I'm enjoying a second leisurely cup of coffee and whilst I was pondering what to chat about, I remembered a time when I was newly 'separated' and desperately reading everything I could get my hands on to try and make sense of the emotional state in which I found myself. One of those readings, and unfortunately I can't remember which or what it was now, suggested that I should write down 100 things I liked. It was an exercise to try and get back in touch with myself as a whole person. Somehow by the time I mustered the courage to leave and found a way to do it without causing anyone too much pain (or so I thought), I really had no clue who I was. I tended by then to operate on auto-pilot, going through the motions of the day and doing all I could to please everyone. I got it wrong a lot and was in a constant state of not being able to please and not feeling good enough and hating myself really. I loved my kids and I loved my husband but I was desperately unhappy. It's a difficult thing to go back and think about. I have read tens if not hundreds of books and articles and listened to dozens of video talks and so on trying to find what I needed to know to put myself back together...or to create myself in the first place, because now I'm not sure I ever really existed until now.

Anyway, I came across this idea of writing down 100 things I liked and it was to be a step in the right direction. How hard can that be? I thought to myself. This is an easy thing to do. So I found a nice piece of textured green paper. This was therapy so I wasn't going to do it on the back of an old envelope like a shopping list! This was healing. This was self-discovery. This was important stuff. I sat and looked at the paper. What do I like? I didn't know. I couldn't put a single word on the paper to start with. I just looked at it. I knew what my kids liked. I knew what my husband liked. I knew what my friends liked. I knew what my parents liked. Well, I thought I did anyway. I didn't know what I liked. 

I tried folding it into eight and creating some mental categories. Books, films, places, clothes, cars, foods, something else and miscellaneous. I can't remember now but something like that. That made it a bit easier. I started to write in one or two words here and there. It was incredibly scary doing this and I can't really explain why. It was like I was stripping myself naked to the world. That doesn't make any sense because this list was just for me. No one else was ever going to see it. But what if someone else found it and read it? I was terrified of writing these things down. You might think they were bad things, but no, it was not that. It was just that writing them down meant that I was also in a way claiming a right to like things. To like these things. I'm not sure I thought I deserved that right when it came down to it. 

I can remember a few of the items that went on the list early. Red cars. Silk scarves. Cushions. Candles. Seeing the moon rise. Really simple stuff but it was really hard. Was I afraid of being ridiculed for liking things? Perhaps. I don't know. Now it is hard to understand but I know it was really, really difficult. I didn't make it to anywhere near 100 on my first try. When I had done as much as I could, I folded up the piece of paper and tucked it into a tiny plastic pouch I had, much like the ones the old bank books used to tuck into, but smaller. I put it away in a place where it wouldn't be found and cogitated on it. What else did I like? I didn't know. 

Over the months and years I've come across that little piece of green paper amongst my bits n pieces. I have boxes of writing things and it finds its way around in there somewhere. It's only A5 so not very big and the writing is small. I've been able to add something new each time I found it, and over time it has become full; I've even added some new catgories on the other side! I have discovered that I like LOADS of things...probably thousands; not tens, not hundreds, but thousands. Maybe even tens of thousands. I don't need to write them down now. I am happy to say that I like or I don't like this or that. I really don't care what people think of me or what I like or don't like. I like me. That is the difference. I know me and I like me. Back then I didn't know me. I had lost me. Or I had never had me. I am not sure. But now I have me and I like it.

I still have that little folded green reminder of where I was. I love it so much now. I am not afraid of it. I can fill it up over and over with things that I like. With words that represent all the wonders of the world that fascinate me, entertain me or give me comfort and pleasure. I don't know if there is a piece of paper in the world big enough to hold all the words I have now! I don't need to put them on paper. They are happy in my head. 

Try this little challenge for yourself today. Find a nice piece of paper and start to write. You might surprise yourself as I did. I hadn't realised that I liked boots that clack on the pavement and making wishes. I'm not going to share any more because I want you to write your own list. I want you to think of your own things. If it's hard for you to do, then I'm glad I wrote this for you today. I hope you will do what you can and keep it close and add to it as you can. I hope it will surprise you what you discover about yourself as you do this simple thing. It costs nothing but the benefits are priceless...at least to me. 

Love to you all and have a beautiful weekend.

PS I keep a packet or two of Sparklers in a drawer in my house. Now and then you'll find me in the garden at night with those and a box of matches... because I like to see those pretty lights traced in the darkness when I twirl them. I don't need to wait for New Year's Eve or Guy Fawkes Night to enjoy the things I like. I can do it anytime...especially now that I know what those things are!

Talking to myself...

...I do it all the time...don't you? Although, now that it's been drawn to my attention, it's not so much myself to whom I'm speaking, but rather something in my surrounds. But sometimes, I grant, it is to myself. 

"Let's just pop that over there for now...hmmm...no, it's not going to fit there so what about...over there...Yes! Good. That works!"
"Now, what was I going to do next? Ah, yes that's right...get dressed. I've got that there, and that...and hmmm those socks. Or these? No. The first ones...and...where did I leave my scarf? In my bag? No. In the pocket of my jacket? No. On the back of the chair. No. Ah, there it is, on the arm of the couch. That's right...I took it off when I was reading last night. Have I got time for another coffee...?"

And on I go chatting to myself in an apparently eccentric way...all day long. The thing is that before I had someone staying here with me, it was just a habit. A kind of comforting background natter. A commentary really, of my day. For me, it's a bit like breathing. It just happens without me really thinking about it. It's not ever muttering or mumbling (well, almost not ever...maybe just a wee bit occasionally) but just keeping myself company I suppose. Do you do it too? I just feel, now that this has been pointed out to me and I've actually been taking notice of how often it happens, that I need to check and see if other humans are busy all day doing the same thing. And of course, in a sense, wondering why on Earth we do it? 

In my job as a teacher I talk a lot. It goes with the territory. I also listen a lot. When I get home at the end of the day I feel like I don't really want to talk for a while, but as soon as I sit down and there is someone to listen, off I go with my stories about the day. I like the debrief and the celebration of all the little things that make up the day when you work with kids and parents and other teachers. There is always a lot happening. Maybe my brain, even though it's tired by the end of the day and feels like stopping, is so wound up with the energy of it all that it just can't stop...not just yet. In reality, although there is a lot of talking and listening at school, most of it is quite focused and directed by the job at hand. Although there is a lot of talk, there is little time to chat without interruption. There is little time to let thoughts and ideas meander in the form of a real conversation. Perhaps that is what I hunger for too. Time just to yak about things that are on my mind. 

I really love quiet. I love music but most of the time I just like quiet when I'm at home. Sometimes I like a bit of music when I'm driving, but even then I like quiet. Sometimes I like to pop the telly on at home for a bit of background noise, but not all the time. I like the quiet times too. I like to be able to hear the birds outside and the wind as it whistles past the chimney. I like to hear the chair creak or the keyboard tap. I like to hear the noises I make as I go about my day, stirring a cuppa or turning the pages of a book. 

I don't like the sound of cupboards closing. Not at all. How weird is that. I can't stand hearing kitchen cupboards close. I know...call for the little men in their little white coats. Because I can't stand hearing cupboards bang shut and because I talk to myself all the time...and to things. It's all a bit mad really. Talking to things. What do I mean? Examples please? 
"That's it, you just push down into the water there...yes! I knew you'd fit in there with the rest of the towels. Good, I won't need to do another load...OK detergent...in you go! That's enough. Right. Turn you onto regular wash and click. Thank you!"
"Now, what next. Wood? Yes. I'll just stack you there, and you there and you there."
"Wood into the fire? Will you fit? If I just move you over there and you to that side a bit then, yes, I knew you would."
Sad really. 

So now that I've been made aware of this habit of mine, I am hearing myself much more than I used to. Funny that. I have said before that it's the only time I get any sense out of anyone, when I talk to myself, haha. But that's not really true. I think it's just that when you spend a lot of time alone, you kind of do keep yourself company. Some people chat with their dog or their cat or their budgie or their car. Don't they? Sure they do. 

Now I know you're going to be taking more notice of your own self-talk after reading this, so do let me know if you talk to yourself more than you realised, as I do. It will make me feel better to know about that. And if you do, then don't feel bad because I think it's really a way to keep sane. We process thoughts out loud and it stops our brains from becoming over full and exploding, making an ugly mess all over the place in the process. Go on friends, talk to yourself...just remember to always be kind with your words and not to go driving yourself up the wall with the negative stuff. Love n hugs all round. Now where was I....cup of tea time I think...where did I leave that  favourite cup of mine??? 

 Usually I add a picture of my own but this one I've borrowed from online at Wikimedia Commons. Hope you won't mind. I might make it a mission to take lots of pics this weekend so I have some to choose from next week!!