Running away seems to be a survival instinct for me. I’m feisty, but when it comes down to the choice of fight or flight, I’m cashing in my frequent flyer points and getting the hell out of wherever. So I’ve been away for a while because I’ve been on the run again. Not literally; I didn’t actually go anywhere, but a section of my brain (officially named The Blog Cortex), packed its bags and hoofed it. I’ve attempted to come back a few times, but discovered The Blog Cortex was only interested in phoning it in from an area with dodgy reception. But today, its back, the bags are unpacked, and the shiny distractions have all been put away.
I think the initial trigger for my vacay from blog land was politics. Australia is in an election year, and quite honestly it’s depressing. That I do mean literally. It’s actually made it hard for me to get up sometimes (hello black dog, my old friend). I’m a deeply political person. I believe in human rights, caring for the environment, compassion, equal access to services etc. You might rightly get the sense I’m a bit left-wing. So political causes, I’m on board with. But I hate politics. Perhaps that’s not strong enough. I detest politics. In Australia at least, our current political landscape consists of posers and bullies, often within the same person. It’s a whole lot of arguing about nothing, calling each other names, clichés, and meaningless diatribe, no policies, and punishing our most vulnerable people in the name of political point scoring. Oh, and senseless bribery. Let’s not forget buying people’s votes with nonsensical incentives. Our politics is sexist, racist, ageist, homophobic, xenophobic and every other form of prejudice you can think of. And at times, downright idiotic. So I hate election years, witnessing billions of dollars are spent achieving nothing but some ego stroking and catchphrase generating.
At the time The Blog Cortex ran for the hills, our then Prime Minister Julia Gillard, was copping a battering from the opposition and her own party for, well, being female. She was then ousted by our Former Prime Minister (who she had ousted earlier), the election was recalled, and the idiocy continued. It was too much. I’m a political person, but I have always wanted this blog to be apolitical. I am known to have the odd rant about politics, but this blog is intended as a sacred, idiot-politician-free zone. But I became so surrounded by idiocy, and so completely and utterly pissed off and depressed by it all, that I couldn’t continue to write about other things when all I wanted to do was scream at these dickheads ruining my country. So The Blog Cortex ran. And kept running.
Then being away from here became a kind of blessing. I decided to take the time out to refocus on why I was here in the first place. What did I want? Why was I blogging? And why, as a self-confessed recovering perfectionist, did I still find fronting up to the page and spewing out my imperfections so scary? I had started to feel inadequate, comparing myself to people who have been blogging for years, and becoming terrified I was just copying every other blogger out there. What was the point of blogging if I wasn’t being original? Except I was. I’ve always written authentically. My blogging voice is still finding and defining itself, but it has been my voice on the page every time. I care about health, the environment, living simply, and ‘finding myself’. So do many other bloggers, so it’s inevitable I’ll write about the same topics as them now and then. But getting it into my head that this was ok was a bit tricky. That it’s ok to be imperfect. That it’s ok to be a beginner. I’ve always felt this need to be the best at everything I do, and being a beginner at things has always been more challenging for me because of it. So I took a bit of time to get the hell over myself, and just be me. The real me, not the perfect me. Read the rest of this entry
So, today was a new day. I imposed an end to my day of sloth and self-pity, although it’s possible that wine and chocolate are still featuring in my evening. I feel the need to apologise to you for yesterday’s post. For my expression of my weakness, exhaustion, my admission that sometimes it’s just all too much. But I’m not going to.
You see, I’ve spent most of my life sick and in pain. I’ve also spent most of my life pretending I’m not. Hiding the pain. Performing on stage and running off after the bow to throw up and collapse. Both in my work on the stage, and in my real life: my acting career didn’t pause when I left work. When people have caught me out, when I’ve been upfront about my illnesses, when someone’s suspected something, I’ve laughed. I’ve assured them it sounds, or looks, worse than it is. I’ve let them believe my illness was more a formality than anything else, I wore it like a badge of honour, but quickly assured I was still completely capable of anything, everything, life throws at me. And for the most part I have been. I made myself be. I’m stubborn. I’ve excelled and succeeded in areas that ‘healthy’ people would struggle to. Even if that meant making my husband carry me into my office and place me upright behind my desk and hover close by for when I needed him to do something physical for me, like answer the phone, or pick me up off the floor.
And in those rare moments when I’ve been completely caught out, when I couldn’t hide it, when the cane came out, when I had to take time off, when someone saw my crying, or wobbling, or collapsing, I apologised. I was so sorry for making a big deal of it. I was sorry for causing anyone inconvenience. I was so sorry for people seeing me like that. I was sorry for my weakness, my exhaustion, causing a scene, disturbing the peace, upsetting routine, being ‘abnormal’. Being less than. Being imperfect. Oh how I apologised! Did I need to? Probably not. My perception was always tainted by my own standards of perfection for myself. But then again….
Dear Readers, I disappeared (again!). I know it wasn’t that long ago I wrote a post just like this one, but I’ve been in the same guilt zone lately. I had some really shitty days with my illness where my brain had enough trouble remembering my name, let alone writing blog posts. I also had a few things to get sorted out in my head before I returned to the keyboard. So (once again) I’m back. I can now happily guarantee that these disappearances will happen from time to time. Between lupus, ME etc, depression and anxiety, the rest of my life, and those moments where I just need to shut out the world, I’m gonna have to take time out now and then. I’m sure none of you could care less, but as a recovering perfectionist, I’ve had some struggles with not facing up to the screen every day. But, I can finally say I’m now ok with it (I think!).
I have also been touched by some gestures made by a couple of lovely bloggers and readers.
Today I thought I’d take a look at something that I think all of us are guilty of doing at some time or another. How often do you contemplate your pipes? Ever wondered about the journey your dish water takes once you pull that plug? Ever stopped to consider exactly how many drops of used cooking oil it takes to kill a fish? Or an ecosystem? This post could be accompanied by some graphic and horrible images, but I thought I’d post photos of some creatures I’ve met on my travels instead. Creatures who can remind us just how important it is to take the extra effort at home to protect our waterways.
We use water in diverse ways in our homes: cooking, cleaning, washing, playing, soothing, nourishing, drinking, and of course, flushing. But whatever the reason, all the water we use, whether at home or out and about, makes its way via drains to the sewerage system. Still with me? Not the most fascinating topic, I know. But our lack of interest in our drains is causing damage to our waterways, and the ecosystems they support. What goes down the plug hole, also has to come out somewhere, and for most homes it’s the sewerage system. After treatment, this water then rejoins the water supply for reuse, or is released into creeks, rivers, and oceans. When we don’t pay attention to what we’re putting down the drains, the entire system is affected, which can: Read the rest of this entry
I’m baaaaaaaaack! (Say that in your mind with a creepy poltergeist-type voice for full effect. Then imagine a whiny, nasal, Australian accent, and you got me!) After a wonderful week away in the serenity of the Pilliga, learning to sculpt, and being inspired by breathtakingly brilliant artists, I’m back in my beautiful coastal town. I’ve been home a couple of days, but like lupies and sickies everywhere, I needed a bit of time to rest and recover from my time away. I also needed time to take it all in: to get down to the beach and get my feet wet and breathe the salty air again; to take stock of just how much amazing talent I’d been in the company of; to try to focus and still my mind, racing with inspiration, ideas, creations, and dreams.
I surprised myself, and managed to complete a bust. Not perfect, but in the spirit of being a recovering perfectionist, I feel it’s not bad for my first sculpture!
It’s all due to my amazing teacher Kate French. Kate is a very experienced, talented, hard-working, inspiring, and generous artist and teacher. Her work is beautiful. Please take the time to have a look at her site – you won’t be sorry!
I’m feeling some joyous synchronicity because the day after I publish my first post and commit to writing daily, it’s Earth Day! And if there’s one thing I do love to bang on about it’s this beautiful planet of ours. We live in a wonderous place which provides everything we need, if only we let it. But in typical human fashion we’re abusing this relationship and taking a lot more than we give, ie we are screwing up the joint.
But why should we care? Because we have to. We don’t get another chance folks, this is it! Economic rationalization, ignorance and apathy won’t save us when entire nations are wiped out due to climate change. The latest resource-sucking electronic gadget won’t be much use to you if you can’t afford to eat due to world-wide food shortages. That’s the hard-line. But it’s not all doom and gloom. It’s also about looking around and realizing just how lucky we are to be here, in this beautiful place. Open your window, go for a walk, Google ‘nature’. To get you inspired, I’m going to post a few photos of my latest home on the planet: the NSW South Coast. When deciding to embark on a journey of healing and wholeness, location was important. Because I was starting over again (again!), I had the option to go anywhere (we didn’t exactly have the bank balance to go anywhere, but we’ve never let that stand in the way before!). We chose this area for several reasons. We have been fortunate enough to live in many beautiful locations throughout the world, and coastal areas have always felt most like home to us. Immediately prior to moving here we were living ‘out west’ in Australia, surrounded by beautiful bush, mountains, valleys, and sunsets that reach forever. It was gorgeous, but it wasn’t ‘our place’. I believe everyone has a ‘soul home’, the place that makes you feel most alive, that makes your heart sing. This is it for us. The climate here is also the most conducive to my health: not too hot, not too cold; not too humid, not too dry; clean fresh sea air; peaceful and quiet; unpolluted, and still close enough to capital cities to visit doctors and get a taste of city life and ‘culture’ (though our desire to take these visits is almost non-existent these days). It was also a location where we really could practice being locovores, thinking globally and acting locally. This region is full of gorgeous fresh food of all varieties. Read the rest of this entry