Soooo this might seem kind of odd, but here it is,
Good Friday morning and I'm laying in bed and just allowing my mind to wander a bit. I reflected on some conversations from last evening at the local Full Moon Pizza Night and how much I enjoyed myself catching up with old friends and new.
Next thing I know I am looking intently at the weave in my sheets. I know, bit crazy. And I thought wow! How beautiful are these things around me?! I have sheets that cost me $8 each from the op shop, pillow cases that were 50c each, and a bed cover I paid $10 for at a school fete.
But what I was noticing was how fine the weave was on those items. The threads are so thin and fine. The weave is so tight. They are so smooth and comfortable. But how do they do that? How do they make these things? Any weaving I've done myself over the years has been clunky and pretty unattractive...think cardboard looms and wool scraps. But this is sublime. So amazing. So very, very beautiful to look at and to feel. Yes, I know, if you weren't fully convinced that I am a nut-case before, perhaps that is clearer now!! Or perhaps I'm not mad at all but awake!
That is the beauty of having a little time on your hands - you notice things you might miss rushing through every day of your life up 'til that moment. How often have you, like me, taken for granted the fabrics that surround you on a daily basis? Stop, take a look and see how truly extraordinary they really are. Usually I'm busy looking at the treasures I find in nature, but this morning I found man-made treasures wrapped around me in my bed. I am so grateful for the ability to see them this way.
Of course, pondering about my sheets led me to quiz Mr YouTube to find out more about how these wondrous fabrics came into being. Take a look at this and be gobsmacked!
Here's wishing you a truly blessed day.
Tell me about something cool you noticed today in the comments.
Be awake!
Happy Easter.
With Love
Kerry x
Friday, 25 March 2016
Monday, 14 March 2016
The Joy of Going Out for a Walk
How good it is just to get in the car, drive a while, get out and go walking. I'm not talking big walks or hard walks but just being outside in nature, whatever the weather is doing. The feelings I experience aren't easy to put into words, but I am struck with wonder at the immense beauty in this place, many places. It is right to go and feel that. It is right to go and look and see.
A friend and I talked about the idea that taking photos can detract from an experience, and I guess in many situations that might be true, but for me... For me, walking with my digital camera is like having joy in my hands. I can take as many photos as I like. As many as I want to. I remember the days when the recording of an event was limited to 12 shots...or 24...and chances were they would be pretty disappointing shots by the time they came back a week or two later after being 'developed'.
I am overwhelmed and overjoyed to have this wonderful tool to play with when I'm out walking. I notice the details and love the surprise of finding something quirky or something that stands out to me. Click and I have it to review later. Really, it is just such fun!
So, today I walked with a friend back over the track I walked on Tuesday to Lake Osborne. On Tuesday it was bright and sunny and warm and clear...a perfect day. Today it was overcast and drizzly and misty with a quite cool breeze coming through now and then...a perfect day.
I love the change affected by a differently perfect day. The light, the colours, the feel of the air on my face and in my lungs. Even in the same week.
Here are some snaps for those that don't have the energy or the time or the beautiful places so close by. I hope these bring some joy to you too, or that they will inspire you to go for a walk and notice the little things along the way. I hope that you're lucky enough to have a digital camera...or a camera phone... If not you can take wonderful 'eye' pictures to dream on when you get home.
With Love
Kerry
A friend and I talked about the idea that taking photos can detract from an experience, and I guess in many situations that might be true, but for me... For me, walking with my digital camera is like having joy in my hands. I can take as many photos as I like. As many as I want to. I remember the days when the recording of an event was limited to 12 shots...or 24...and chances were they would be pretty disappointing shots by the time they came back a week or two later after being 'developed'.
I am overwhelmed and overjoyed to have this wonderful tool to play with when I'm out walking. I notice the details and love the surprise of finding something quirky or something that stands out to me. Click and I have it to review later. Really, it is just such fun!
So, today I walked with a friend back over the track I walked on Tuesday to Lake Osborne. On Tuesday it was bright and sunny and warm and clear...a perfect day. Today it was overcast and drizzly and misty with a quite cool breeze coming through now and then...a perfect day.
I love the change affected by a differently perfect day. The light, the colours, the feel of the air on my face and in my lungs. Even in the same week.
Here are some snaps for those that don't have the energy or the time or the beautiful places so close by. I hope these bring some joy to you too, or that they will inspire you to go for a walk and notice the little things along the way. I hope that you're lucky enough to have a digital camera...or a camera phone... If not you can take wonderful 'eye' pictures to dream on when you get home.
With Love
Kerry
Tiny fungus, so bright it took my attention. |
A rock on the path, a work of art. Truly magical. |
Not snow but glorious lichen. |
Tuesday, 8 March 2016
Time, grief, healing, regret, some time in a perfect place...and love.
Today is Bill's birthday. He would have been 64 years old but that possibility was taken from him by cancer in August 2012. His birthday is a day that marks time now in a new way. Birthdays missed. Time with his kids missed. Their time with him...missed. On it goes.
The days leading up to 8th March are nervous ones for me because I'm never quite sure how the day will be. I write it on the calendar every year. Bill's birthday. Not because I will forget. Just because. I'm never sure whether to talk about it or not. I don't want the kids to be upset - but how can they not be. But I have to because if I don't it's as if he wasn't here and such a big part of my life. For 33 years of my life. So I thought about him a lot today.
I'm grateful that I didn't have to work today, Tuesdays being my 'day off' this year. The weather was beautiful and last night Mark and I had talked about doing a walk today. Doing a walk is a bit different to going for a walk. It means going someplace we don't usually go. It means going with purpose and determination to achieve something new. So today we did a walk. It entailed first a drive.
We headed off about lunchtime with a picnic in the back pack and drove north to Geeveston. We headed out towards the Tahune Airwalk, intending to head off at the Hartz Mountain turn off. Alas, busy chatting, we missed the turn and after a bit of discussion and "We'll just go a little bit further," we got the Airwalk and realised we had something wrong. Conferring with the GPS (last resort, perhaps we should have checked in with it sooner...) we discovered that we were 13kms wrong and had to backtrack that distance to find Hartz Road.
Fortunately it was such a beautiful day so a drive through the forest was not a bad thing. Soon we were back on track and enjoying a bumpy ride on the gravel Hartz Road. We soon found ourselves in the more open alpine country and then at the end of the road where a number of walks begin. There was a long drop toilet and a place to register time and date and numbers in our 'party' before heading off.
I thought on the drive that I could have brought a photo of Bill along so he was 'with' us. I'll have one ready to carry with me next year. Anyway, he was in my thoughts and I guess when you have passed it's good to be in the memories of those who loved and cared about you. It's good for those of us left behind to remember good times and to know the great influence others have had on our growth as people and on the direction our lives have taken. For those of you who don't know, Bill and I divorced about six years before he passed away. There were hard times and sad times and they weigh heavily when I give them time and energy. There were also many, many wonderful times and I honour both here because they are part of life.
Bill, you would have loved Lake Osborne. Mark pondered why people destroy so many places of great natural beauty when you feel so good just being there and looking at them. Why indeed. It was good to see Mark relaxed and happy in this place. He sat on a rock and drank in the sunshine and the glorious peace and tranquility of this place. We chatted. Took a few photos and headed back. We didn't talk about you but I know you were both with us and on our minds.
Time passes no matter what we do. Grief happens. It's part of life. It's hard and messy and we all have to work through it at some stage. We have to do it in our own way. This is part of my work. Healing comes with tears and talking and not talking and going to beautiful places that soothe the soul and put us back in touch with who we really are. Regret. Yes, there it is. There are things I would love to do differently. Things I would love to be able to change. To wind time back and change direction. With hindsight. How great would it be to be able to go back and change things now and then. Not our job. Our job is to live with what is. To learn from it. To grow from it. To learn love from it. How to give love and to receive love and to celebrate love.
Divorced, teary, talking on the phone in the months leading up to the end of Bill's life. I said these words to him. The love never dies. No, he said. I know. And there we sat together on the phone, many miles apart but knowing there was love.
Mark setting the pace...me, I get distracted. |
How wonderful it is to have boardwalk pathways to beautiful places. |
Hartz Mountain |
Mysteries unfolding for us in but one tiny place - this world is full of wonder. |
Tiny inhabitant enjoying the sun. |
Splashes of colour. Note to self - must come back in the springtime. |
Lake Osborne - treasure set on a glacial plain. |
Tiny plants - Fibonacci wonderland. |
King Billy Pine standing guard over the lake. |
Wonderful jagged teeth. |
The walk to Lake Osborne was our destination today. A short 40 minutes return, but as we have both had health challenges in recent times, it seemed just the right amount of leisurely exercise for a day out. Hopefully it will be the catalyst for more doing of walks and we will build our fitness and ability to take on more challenging trails in the future.
The clarity of the water was breath-taking - so was the temperature, even at this time of year. I dangled my toes for a while and enjoyed the refreshing coolness. |
Gorgeous fungi - part of the joy of doing a walk. |
After the walk - so not at all taxing - just right for us today. |
Divorced, teary, talking on the phone in the months leading up to the end of Bill's life. I said these words to him. The love never dies. No, he said. I know. And there we sat together on the phone, many miles apart but knowing there was love.
Saturday, 16 January 2016
Light and Shadow
Yesterday evening I went walking on our beach. What a privilege it is to have this wondrous resource so close at hand; a place to wander, to marvel at and that leaves one to ponder about life in all its various hues and shades. The play of the evening light, even as it is fading, is fascinating to me. I feel my heart pump as I pull out my camera to capture a feast of light and shadow created by small clear 'jellyfish'. That's what I've always known them as but today someone suggested that they might be eggs laid by sea cucumbers. I had a look online for some images of sea cucumber eggs and found these...so I am back with the jellyfish idea for now!
As for sea cucumbers, we saw many of them in our travels 'up north' in Queensland during sailing days. Mostly long, fat, black caterpillars of the sea creeping lazily in the ponds left at low tide on rocky, muddy shores. They come in many shapes and colours, the most remarkable I've ever seen resembling bright round rubber balls. They were red and black, yellow and black or blue and black and came up in the nets of a scallop trawler on which we were lucky enough to do a 'tucker trip' back in the mid-eighties. Yes, well inside last century - where does the time go?! The world is full of often unseen wonders. I am constantly delighted and surprised by what turns up!
A 'tucker trip', by the way, was the term given for an agreement whereby we yachties could be volunteer crew on a trawler in exchange for our 'tucker' or food. It was such a fantastic opportunity to see a working fishing boat and one we jumped at. I was the only female on board and the loo was a bucket on the aft deck which had to be emptied over side! I just had to 'get over' myself and get on with it. I did my best to time my visits for when no one else was on deck. I doubt these kinds of opportunities exist now, given the nature of litigation and insurance. It probably wouldn't be possible.
Anyway, whatever they are, jellyfish or other, they are fascinating little works of nature and the light plays on them in a spectacular way. I found a few other treasures along the way. I hope you'll enjoy them too.
The pondering about life? It was inspired by the light play on those wee jelly blobs. Whatever is going on in life, there are always moments of light and wonder to be found if you're looking for them. Never discount them. They are tiny glimpses of bigger and better things to come. Without the shadows, we might not be able to appreciate the light. Without the light, we would never see the shadows. Both are necessary for us to enjoy a life rich with lessons on how to live better or longer or wiser. Nothing stays the same forever. Change is inevitable. It may be dreaded or welcomed or sneered at. However you receive it, it will come. Life is ever-changing as is the light; as are the shadows on the shore.
With love,
Kerry x
A 'tucker trip', by the way, was the term given for an agreement whereby we yachties could be volunteer crew on a trawler in exchange for our 'tucker' or food. It was such a fantastic opportunity to see a working fishing boat and one we jumped at. I was the only female on board and the loo was a bucket on the aft deck which had to be emptied over side! I just had to 'get over' myself and get on with it. I did my best to time my visits for when no one else was on deck. I doubt these kinds of opportunities exist now, given the nature of litigation and insurance. It probably wouldn't be possible.
Anyway, whatever they are, jellyfish or other, they are fascinating little works of nature and the light plays on them in a spectacular way. I found a few other treasures along the way. I hope you'll enjoy them too.
The pondering about life? It was inspired by the light play on those wee jelly blobs. Whatever is going on in life, there are always moments of light and wonder to be found if you're looking for them. Never discount them. They are tiny glimpses of bigger and better things to come. Without the shadows, we might not be able to appreciate the light. Without the light, we would never see the shadows. Both are necessary for us to enjoy a life rich with lessons on how to live better or longer or wiser. Nothing stays the same forever. Change is inevitable. It may be dreaded or welcomed or sneered at. However you receive it, it will come. Life is ever-changing as is the light; as are the shadows on the shore.
With love,
Kerry x
Thursday, 7 January 2016
Christmas indiscretions and the dreaded aftermath
It all began with the gradual appearance, in the staffroom at work, of mince pies and shortbreads and chocolate treats. Slowly they came, at first in dribs and drabs and then in a rushing torrent of sugary delights. Some were labelled and placed in pigeon holes - yes, some had my name on them. Others were placed enticingly on tables - on plates - no protective coverings to stop tempted fingers from grabbing a little something on the way through.
Then came the gatherings, the parties, attended and catered with such enthusiasm. Cheesecakes, pavlovas, cakes and puddings. And more chocolate. Chocolate in the shape of trees or Santas or candy canes. And the candy canes, mint and cherry and... But not just the sweet stuff. Cheeses and biscuits, lavash and dips and drinks (low alcohol but still, additional to what I normally consume).
I had to go and do some Christmas shopping, of course, and of course, I bought more shortbreads and chocolates - not for me, of course...And I baked a delicious fruit cake, the fruit soaked first in a generous bowl of green ginger wine. I made rich and beautiful Swiss muesli loaded with full fat yoghurt and oats and nuts, seeds and berries.
These devils all flirted and flashed their irresistable delights and I succumbed. At first with a 'just this one' attitude, but as the sugar lit up my brain with a hefty dopamine response, caution went the way of the wind. Now if it was only for a week, it might not be so bad. Alas the decadence proceeded for weekS! Apart from the festive season goodies, I also fell foul to home baked bread and other everyday goodies, but with festive season gusto! Yes, I know I'm not the only one who was eating too much or too often. Not just once but over and over again. Whilst it was all very social and enjoyable and of course, delectable, I am now left with the aftermath.
I didn't notice it happening really, but when I slowed down enough to tune in with my body again, oops! My waist has swelled noticeably and my digestive system (after all, that's where all this stuff went) is showing signs of discontent. Visits to the loo are too frequent and less satisfying than they ought to be. My body is anxious to rid itself of my indiscretions but I guess it might take a week or two of more virtuous living to get its rhythms back where they work best.
Interesting enough, I don't think this will be a struggle. It's such a relief to be eating salads and drinking herb teas. Litres of water complete with Himalayan Pink Salt to replenish minerals and fluids are being welcomed with gratitude. My whole body is sighing with relief that I have stopped filling it with crap. Sorry to say it, but as far as my body is concerned, that is what sugary delights are. My body can't deal with it well. It can't use it constructively, so it just stores it away until it gets the chance to off-load it.
For a fortnight I've felt too sluggish and tired to be bothered getting up early. I'm not even waking early - that's bad! Walks on the beach have been thought about but rarely executed (sorry, I mean enjoyed). Yesterday I found the motivation to get on my stationary bike. I pedalled through the 4 o'clock news (well, 20 minutes of it), raising my heart-rate and covering a theoretical 8 kilometres. Usually I can manage 30 minutes, Give me a day or two and I'll be back!
Sometimes it just takes one little bit of motivation to turn things around. Motivation - you can't buy it but it's one of those magical things you can create from NOTHING!! It is simply a thought, a mind-set. So I did it. I got started on getting my clean-living self back. I have no imaginings of getting skinny or looking younger. I want to feel good. That's it. I know what to do. I know what helps my body to help me. And I'm doing it. From now on. Perhaps by next festive season I'll feel so good I won't be tempted!
My body repair plan:
It's simple. It's a good life. My body will appreciate my TLC and will give me a better life in return. Sounds like a good deal to me!
One final thought. Guilt. I entertained it briefly and decided no, I will not feel guilty. What a wretched and wasteful emotion it is. How it robs us of feeling good about life. So, rather than feeling guilty I'm giving thanks. Yes, I am so very thankful for this good life I have. I am thankful that I have the choice to take care of myself by eating well and exercising. I'm thankful that I can choose to go to bed early in order to function better. I'm thankful for the chance to lift my game and to live life to the fullest. No guilt. Just joy. Just thankfulness.
Join me in making choices that help you to feel better about life. And about yourself. Every good choice is a way to be thankful for all the marvellous things your body is and can do. Give thanks by making thankful choices.
More joy, more freedom.
Now it's time to go get on my bike!
With love
Kerry x
Then came the gatherings, the parties, attended and catered with such enthusiasm. Cheesecakes, pavlovas, cakes and puddings. And more chocolate. Chocolate in the shape of trees or Santas or candy canes. And the candy canes, mint and cherry and... But not just the sweet stuff. Cheeses and biscuits, lavash and dips and drinks (low alcohol but still, additional to what I normally consume).
I had to go and do some Christmas shopping, of course, and of course, I bought more shortbreads and chocolates - not for me, of course...And I baked a delicious fruit cake, the fruit soaked first in a generous bowl of green ginger wine. I made rich and beautiful Swiss muesli loaded with full fat yoghurt and oats and nuts, seeds and berries.
These devils all flirted and flashed their irresistable delights and I succumbed. At first with a 'just this one' attitude, but as the sugar lit up my brain with a hefty dopamine response, caution went the way of the wind. Now if it was only for a week, it might not be so bad. Alas the decadence proceeded for weekS! Apart from the festive season goodies, I also fell foul to home baked bread and other everyday goodies, but with festive season gusto! Yes, I know I'm not the only one who was eating too much or too often. Not just once but over and over again. Whilst it was all very social and enjoyable and of course, delectable, I am now left with the aftermath.
I didn't notice it happening really, but when I slowed down enough to tune in with my body again, oops! My waist has swelled noticeably and my digestive system (after all, that's where all this stuff went) is showing signs of discontent. Visits to the loo are too frequent and less satisfying than they ought to be. My body is anxious to rid itself of my indiscretions but I guess it might take a week or two of more virtuous living to get its rhythms back where they work best.
Interesting enough, I don't think this will be a struggle. It's such a relief to be eating salads and drinking herb teas. Litres of water complete with Himalayan Pink Salt to replenish minerals and fluids are being welcomed with gratitude. My whole body is sighing with relief that I have stopped filling it with crap. Sorry to say it, but as far as my body is concerned, that is what sugary delights are. My body can't deal with it well. It can't use it constructively, so it just stores it away until it gets the chance to off-load it.
For a fortnight I've felt too sluggish and tired to be bothered getting up early. I'm not even waking early - that's bad! Walks on the beach have been thought about but rarely executed (sorry, I mean enjoyed). Yesterday I found the motivation to get on my stationary bike. I pedalled through the 4 o'clock news (well, 20 minutes of it), raising my heart-rate and covering a theoretical 8 kilometres. Usually I can manage 30 minutes, Give me a day or two and I'll be back!
Sometimes it just takes one little bit of motivation to turn things around. Motivation - you can't buy it but it's one of those magical things you can create from NOTHING!! It is simply a thought, a mind-set. So I did it. I got started on getting my clean-living self back. I have no imaginings of getting skinny or looking younger. I want to feel good. That's it. I know what to do. I know what helps my body to help me. And I'm doing it. From now on. Perhaps by next festive season I'll feel so good I won't be tempted!
My body repair plan:
- Plenty of water with Himalayan Pink Salt
- Herbal teas in place of tea/coffee most of the time (I'm only human!)
- Plenty of sleep - going to bed around 9.30pm - this is when my first 'sleep' indicator hits me. If I miss it I can keep going until after midnight easily and it's difficult to get to sleep in between.
- Plenty of movement - on my bike, going for walks, cleaning windows, tidying outside, washing the car...
- Wholefoods, fresh, raw, plentiful (loads of fibre) and delicious - making time to prepare and keep raw vegetables washed and cut up ready to go for snacking
It's simple. It's a good life. My body will appreciate my TLC and will give me a better life in return. Sounds like a good deal to me!
One final thought. Guilt. I entertained it briefly and decided no, I will not feel guilty. What a wretched and wasteful emotion it is. How it robs us of feeling good about life. So, rather than feeling guilty I'm giving thanks. Yes, I am so very thankful for this good life I have. I am thankful that I have the choice to take care of myself by eating well and exercising. I'm thankful that I can choose to go to bed early in order to function better. I'm thankful for the chance to lift my game and to live life to the fullest. No guilt. Just joy. Just thankfulness.
Join me in making choices that help you to feel better about life. And about yourself. Every good choice is a way to be thankful for all the marvellous things your body is and can do. Give thanks by making thankful choices.
More joy, more freedom.
Now it's time to go get on my bike!
With love
Kerry x
Sunday, 3 January 2016
Freedom from repeated 'failure'
Thought I'd better check in and say hello again today and let you all know that I am okay today, having shredded all my old journals yesterday. I did wonder if I might have some regrets today, but so far, none! In fact, I loaded the whole shebang - bags of shredded paper and journal covers - into the car and took them to the tip. I unceremoniously dumped them into the dumper and that was it. Gone! Properly gone!
It occurred to me today that there is one more reason to be letting them go...and those old patterns of thinking. I have 'struggled' with my weight and overall health for a long time and in particular in the past couple of years. I am so great (if I do say so myself) at creating forms and tables to inspire myself to start on new health regimes. I weigh and measure and tabulate and create and it's all just marvellous. I feel all inspired and do great things - writing down my progress and my slip ups on my wonderful forms and tables and graphs - for about a fortnight. Then I stop. I get busy with other stuff and forget to write it down. Then I lose my focus. And give up. Again and again and again. And that was all in those journals too.
Well, I don't really need to have those reminders of past 'failures' or 'failings'. They leave me feeling dis-empowered and miserable each time I revisit them. So, they are gone now. Yay! I've decided that I will tackle life in a different way.
I was talking with a friend the other day about giving up smoking. I gave up about twenty-six years ago. I had tried on previous occasions but had gone back to it each time. I had 'failed' but I didn't need to record it anywhere. When I eventually managed to stop, it was because I had a 'good enough' reason. Protecting and restoring my own health at that time obviously wasn't sufficient inspiration, but when my husband and I decided to start a family, that turned out to be the key. I knew that I didn't want to smoke around my baby. I knew that smoking affected my health and that it was worth getting myself on track even before falling pregnant. I'm not judging anyone else here, or the decisions they make in life, but that is what worked for me.
Weight loss and overall health will come into line in the same way I imagine. I am always mindful of the fact that every choice I make in life leads me either towards or away from good health. Most of the time I make pretty reasonable choices with my food. I slip off track now and then. That's okay.
The biggest thing for me is to get myself out for a walk every day and to set aside a sacred time for meditation every day. Even if it's only an hour for the two combined, these are the things that will motivate me and make it easier to keep the rest on track. I'm not going to write it down any more or create tables to map my progress. I know how I'm going by looking at my skin, by how I feel (how my energy level is going), by how well I sleep and by how my clothes fit and feel. It's pretty simple really. Here it is 9.31pm. I promised myself I'd be in bed early tonight so I'll have to wrap it up here.
So, no more torturing myself by holding onto evidence of perceived 'failure'. My plan from here on in is to just live one day at a time, to notice things that are going right and to keep adding to those! I am not stuck in any cycle unless I perceive myself to be. That's a rather important revelation for me.
Here's to enjoying life.
One day at a time.
Lots of love.
Kerry x
It occurred to me today that there is one more reason to be letting them go...and those old patterns of thinking. I have 'struggled' with my weight and overall health for a long time and in particular in the past couple of years. I am so great (if I do say so myself) at creating forms and tables to inspire myself to start on new health regimes. I weigh and measure and tabulate and create and it's all just marvellous. I feel all inspired and do great things - writing down my progress and my slip ups on my wonderful forms and tables and graphs - for about a fortnight. Then I stop. I get busy with other stuff and forget to write it down. Then I lose my focus. And give up. Again and again and again. And that was all in those journals too.
Well, I don't really need to have those reminders of past 'failures' or 'failings'. They leave me feeling dis-empowered and miserable each time I revisit them. So, they are gone now. Yay! I've decided that I will tackle life in a different way.
I was talking with a friend the other day about giving up smoking. I gave up about twenty-six years ago. I had tried on previous occasions but had gone back to it each time. I had 'failed' but I didn't need to record it anywhere. When I eventually managed to stop, it was because I had a 'good enough' reason. Protecting and restoring my own health at that time obviously wasn't sufficient inspiration, but when my husband and I decided to start a family, that turned out to be the key. I knew that I didn't want to smoke around my baby. I knew that smoking affected my health and that it was worth getting myself on track even before falling pregnant. I'm not judging anyone else here, or the decisions they make in life, but that is what worked for me.
Weight loss and overall health will come into line in the same way I imagine. I am always mindful of the fact that every choice I make in life leads me either towards or away from good health. Most of the time I make pretty reasonable choices with my food. I slip off track now and then. That's okay.
The biggest thing for me is to get myself out for a walk every day and to set aside a sacred time for meditation every day. Even if it's only an hour for the two combined, these are the things that will motivate me and make it easier to keep the rest on track. I'm not going to write it down any more or create tables to map my progress. I know how I'm going by looking at my skin, by how I feel (how my energy level is going), by how well I sleep and by how my clothes fit and feel. It's pretty simple really. Here it is 9.31pm. I promised myself I'd be in bed early tonight so I'll have to wrap it up here.
So, no more torturing myself by holding onto evidence of perceived 'failure'. My plan from here on in is to just live one day at a time, to notice things that are going right and to keep adding to those! I am not stuck in any cycle unless I perceive myself to be. That's a rather important revelation for me.
Here's to enjoying life.
One day at a time.
Lots of love.
Kerry x
Saturday, 2 January 2016
5 Great Reasons for Shredding My Old Journals
Isn't life GRAND when you get hold of some new thinking...a new perspective on things that have been weighing you down for a long time...and suddenly you can move forward with a spring in your step and 20/20 vision! Today has been one of those days for me and I am so grateful I can hardly contain myself. I just HAVE to tell you about it.
Over the past decade or so there have been some pretty tough years and through them, kicking and screaming all the way, I've made some pretty massive shifts in my understanding of myself and of being human. I've struggled and wept and gnashed my teeth largely in the company of several A4 bound books that I chose to be my confidantes over those years - my 'journals'.
Now it is important to understand that a journal is NOT a diary. They are two very different animals. A diary is a place to list events as they occur or to remind you to get yourself to them: went shopping bought red shoes, dentist - two fillings, won CWA raffle - lucky me! Xanmyne's birthday next week, 29, send card. That sort of thing. Whereas a journal is a place to write about feelings, thoughts, ideas and more: must buy red shoes to go with terrible ugly bridesmaid dress bestie is making me wear it's disgusting - how will I ever match that colour - maybe I can wear just the shoes, so scared of the dentist Mr X - he's such a mongrel with the needle and his breathe stinks, cheated in CWA raffle (lucky me having my bestie on the committee - off to Hawaii next month, woohoo!). Xanmyne's birthday next week, I bet she'll put a selfie up on Facebook - taken in the bathroom of some cheap hotel - skirt up to there...wish she would just grow up. Yes, one can be childish, bitchy, selfish, naughty, angry, anything in a journal. All the things one doesn't usually bother with in a diary.
It's a bit more like baring your soul and really not the stuff you particularly want your loved ones to find whether you're just out for the day or at worst, dead. I'm serious about that because the stuff that happens in a journal has the potential to hurt people (not always, but what I'm saying is that it can be filled with stuff that is raw - anger, frustration, madness!) and none of us would want to hurt our loved ones by letting them inside our heads on a bad emotions day, surely! Bad enough what we let ourselves say sometimes!
So, my journals, a sizable stack of them, were filled with 'that' kind of stuff and I lived in constant fear that someone would find them and read them and be heart-broken (or just plain shocked - it's not always nice inside my head, even for me, which is why I choose to write and get it all out of there). Of course there were also pages I'd printed of inspirational writings and the occasional emails to and fro that I wanted to keep track of in non-digital format. Often I'd come across personal development activities and would do the work in my journals (frighteningly embarrassing and confronting at times).
Given just how vulnerable I made myself in my writings, and given that essentially this was a massive journey of self-assessment, berating, soul-searching and rebuilding, it is reasonable to wonder why I didn't burn each page as it was completed. I have held onto them for years. Why?
I thought that it was going to be important to me in the future. I wanted to be able to draw on what I went through in those journals to help other people. I believed I could write and save others from going through the same struggles, or at least give struggling people someone to identify with and perhaps to feel less alone. Surely our journeys and struggles constitute some value in that way.
Also, some time ago, my darling mum had burned a collection of letters I had sent her while travelling; when she told me I had cried for a day and a half without respite*. I was so afraid that I might feel the same if I destroyed my journals which were, essentially, letters I'd written to myself in order to understand who I was...to become myself...a record of a different kind of travel. I was scared to let them go!
Then a week or so ago I got the box of journals out and started reading. Not in chronological order but somewhat randomly. I've read them before, of course, and have revelled at how much progress I've made and how I've changed along the way. In the past it has been a positive experience to read back over them. This time it was different. I read for hours and hours until I had read them all. And then I fell into a dreadful funk that lasted at least a couple of days. I realised I wanted to shred them all but I was so terrified of doing that. How could I do that? It took me a few more days to give myself more reasons for shredding them than I had for keeping them...and here they are:
5 Great Reasons for Shredding My Old Journals
1. One day someone else will find them and read them. It is possible they will think the writer is or was insane or they might be dreadfully wounded by what they read. Things can be taken out of context and greatly misunderstood. It's just not worth the risk.
2. Reality is, I believe, that we all have a 'dark' side. We all entertain 'dark' thoughts at times, whether we are open to admitting it or not. I would prefer to reveal my 'darkness' to others on my own terms, selectively and only in company I absolutely trust. Or not at all.
3. If I am going to write to help people I will do it better from who and where I am now. I have done the learning I needed to in that time. I trust myself to remember and to share from the heart what I know is important to share.
4. The value of revisiting times of struggle by immersing oneself in old thinking is unlikely to be helpful beyond a certain point, if at all. It can lead to feelings of pain, despair and deep sadness to experience in that way old perceptions and beliefs.
5. It is symbolic of freeing oneself from the past. Life is better when it is lived in the present. It can be cathartic to shred those pages and know that they will no longer be evidence of long days and nights of anguish, It is freeing to know that I won't ever read that stuff again. It is gone. The work is done. I am me. I am free. I honour myself by letting the old stuff go.
Love to all.
Happy New Year.
Let it go.
Be free.
Don't say I made you do it!!
Kerry x
*Mum, I forgave you ages ago, was just using it to make a point.
Over the past decade or so there have been some pretty tough years and through them, kicking and screaming all the way, I've made some pretty massive shifts in my understanding of myself and of being human. I've struggled and wept and gnashed my teeth largely in the company of several A4 bound books that I chose to be my confidantes over those years - my 'journals'.
Now it is important to understand that a journal is NOT a diary. They are two very different animals. A diary is a place to list events as they occur or to remind you to get yourself to them: went shopping bought red shoes, dentist - two fillings, won CWA raffle - lucky me! Xanmyne's birthday next week, 29, send card. That sort of thing. Whereas a journal is a place to write about feelings, thoughts, ideas and more: must buy red shoes to go with terrible ugly bridesmaid dress bestie is making me wear it's disgusting - how will I ever match that colour - maybe I can wear just the shoes, so scared of the dentist Mr X - he's such a mongrel with the needle and his breathe stinks, cheated in CWA raffle (lucky me having my bestie on the committee - off to Hawaii next month, woohoo!). Xanmyne's birthday next week, I bet she'll put a selfie up on Facebook - taken in the bathroom of some cheap hotel - skirt up to there...wish she would just grow up. Yes, one can be childish, bitchy, selfish, naughty, angry, anything in a journal. All the things one doesn't usually bother with in a diary.
It's a bit more like baring your soul and really not the stuff you particularly want your loved ones to find whether you're just out for the day or at worst, dead. I'm serious about that because the stuff that happens in a journal has the potential to hurt people (not always, but what I'm saying is that it can be filled with stuff that is raw - anger, frustration, madness!) and none of us would want to hurt our loved ones by letting them inside our heads on a bad emotions day, surely! Bad enough what we let ourselves say sometimes!
So, my journals, a sizable stack of them, were filled with 'that' kind of stuff and I lived in constant fear that someone would find them and read them and be heart-broken (or just plain shocked - it's not always nice inside my head, even for me, which is why I choose to write and get it all out of there). Of course there were also pages I'd printed of inspirational writings and the occasional emails to and fro that I wanted to keep track of in non-digital format. Often I'd come across personal development activities and would do the work in my journals (frighteningly embarrassing and confronting at times).
I was afraid to let them go. |
Given just how vulnerable I made myself in my writings, and given that essentially this was a massive journey of self-assessment, berating, soul-searching and rebuilding, it is reasonable to wonder why I didn't burn each page as it was completed. I have held onto them for years. Why?
I thought that it was going to be important to me in the future. I wanted to be able to draw on what I went through in those journals to help other people. I believed I could write and save others from going through the same struggles, or at least give struggling people someone to identify with and perhaps to feel less alone. Surely our journeys and struggles constitute some value in that way.
Also, some time ago, my darling mum had burned a collection of letters I had sent her while travelling; when she told me I had cried for a day and a half without respite*. I was so afraid that I might feel the same if I destroyed my journals which were, essentially, letters I'd written to myself in order to understand who I was...to become myself...a record of a different kind of travel. I was scared to let them go!
Then a week or so ago I got the box of journals out and started reading. Not in chronological order but somewhat randomly. I've read them before, of course, and have revelled at how much progress I've made and how I've changed along the way. In the past it has been a positive experience to read back over them. This time it was different. I read for hours and hours until I had read them all. And then I fell into a dreadful funk that lasted at least a couple of days. I realised I wanted to shred them all but I was so terrified of doing that. How could I do that? It took me a few more days to give myself more reasons for shredding them than I had for keeping them...and here they are:
5 Great Reasons for Shredding My Old Journals
1. One day someone else will find them and read them. It is possible they will think the writer is or was insane or they might be dreadfully wounded by what they read. Things can be taken out of context and greatly misunderstood. It's just not worth the risk.
2. Reality is, I believe, that we all have a 'dark' side. We all entertain 'dark' thoughts at times, whether we are open to admitting it or not. I would prefer to reveal my 'darkness' to others on my own terms, selectively and only in company I absolutely trust. Or not at all.
3. If I am going to write to help people I will do it better from who and where I am now. I have done the learning I needed to in that time. I trust myself to remember and to share from the heart what I know is important to share.
4. The value of revisiting times of struggle by immersing oneself in old thinking is unlikely to be helpful beyond a certain point, if at all. It can lead to feelings of pain, despair and deep sadness to experience in that way old perceptions and beliefs.
5. It is symbolic of freeing oneself from the past. Life is better when it is lived in the present. It can be cathartic to shred those pages and know that they will no longer be evidence of long days and nights of anguish, It is freeing to know that I won't ever read that stuff again. It is gone. The work is done. I am me. I am free. I honour myself by letting the old stuff go.
No tears, just relief. |
Happy New Year.
Let it go.
Be free.
Don't say I made you do it!!
Kerry x
*Mum, I forgave you ages ago, was just using it to make a point.
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