NEW YEAR - NEW LIFE?

Each year on December 31st I tell myself that next year I am going to transform my life. Next year is going to be the year that I iron all my clothes on a regular basis, have an immaculately tidy house, go to the gym 5 times per week (not because I think I have to but because I have boundless amounts of energy), become a size 4, earn a salary that can truly afford all the lovely clothes I want. Each December 31st, I imagine myself considerably slimmer, much richer, with amazing hair, and ideally fit enough to run a marathon.


This year is different. I just happened to catch sight of myself in some photos from about 3 years ago, to my surprise I looked extremely good (much better than I remembered), my hair looked fantastic, I of course was slimmer (and younger), and the pictures reminded me that my house looked lovely. However at the time I remember being totally dissatisfied with my appearance and my life. It’s interesting to realise that the photographs tell a decidedly different story. I now realize that my life isn’t the problem, and I probably don’t need to make too many drastic changes (maybe go to the gym more often and eat a little better). The problem is how I perceive my life. I like a lot of people are so outwardly focused on other peoples’ lives, and what other people are doing and the grass always looks greener on the other side. I don’t stop to look around me and truly appreciate what I have. I have all the components of a really full life; the only missing ingredient is gratitude.

My New Year’s resolution is gratitude!

Happy New Year

RECONNECTING WITH YOUR PASSION

It will come as no surprise to those that know me well, that I wanted to be an actress or singer or both during my late teens and early 20s. I studied for years at the Sydney Actors Studio, the City Lit in London and the Victorian College of the Arts in Melbourne. My heart ached at the idea of not being able to pursue this passion. It was who I was! Then slowly over time somehow something so important and such a vital part of who I was, seemed to slip away. The idea of pursing a “proper” job became more attractive as it meant that I could pay my bills on time and buy nice things. I was never quite willing to suffer for my craft I don’t think. I was probably too materialistic for that. In my late 20s, I got married and had responsibilities, apart from singing in the shower, my dreams of being on the stage seemed all but a distant memory. Then in my early 30s my marriage ended, and I found myself for the first time living alone. I had a fantastic loft apartment that I loved. It became my sanctuary and the only place I truly felt safe during this difficult time. It provided me with the space that I needed to reconnect with myself as an individual and focus on what was paramount in my life.

During that time, I got in the habit of stopping off and buying a bottle of wine and some Thai food on the way home, I would then put on my favourite pyjamas and dance and sing in my living room. Unfortunately, dance was not a gift bestowed upon me, so I can only describe my routines as a mix between flash dance (complete with high-leg kicks) and my own version of interpretive dance. I know it’s a little bit of a risk to divulge this personal information, and it may sound silly, but it helped me reconnect with who I was, to the deepest part of myself. For the briefest of moments, I allowed myself to play! I was uninhibited and alive. I was that young 20 something that lived and breathed singing and acting.

I realise now that this passion was probably not who I was, but what I wanted to do (always) and as a mum with responsibilities and a mortgage, it may not be realistic to run away with the circus or become the next Dame Judi Dench, but I can still do what it is that I am passionate about. I can take a acting class, start singing again or just turn up the radio and sing at the top of my lungs as if nobody is watching. I invite you to do this over the next couple of days, play some air guitar, dance in your living room or put on your running shoes and feel the wind against your face. Do what it is that connects you to the deepest part of yourself.

Bah Humbug – I’m Over Christmas!

I was brought up a good Christian girl and attended Sunday school weekly for the first 15 years of my life. However, it is sad to say that this is the first year that I am completely over Christmas. I still love to attend church on Christmas morning as I find it grounds me for the day and anchors me to the true meaning of Christmas, but that’s where it begins and ends. I am tired of cranky shoppers barging past me whilst rushing to find some last minute bargains before the big day. I’m tired of looking at tacky decorations. I’m tired of looking at Christmas lights that use enough energy to power a small suburb, and I’m tired of trying to buy the perfect gifts. Don’t get me wrong, I love to give gifts (and let’s be honest, I don’t mind receiving them) but, this year I just feel as if I have become so disconnected from what Christmas is really all about. I seem to have been caught up in the idea that Christmas = consumption. I purchased at least three times the amount of food I required, and I spent three times what I had intended to on my son. I now realise that I am becoming one of those parents that overindulge their children in order to fill a greater need within themselves.

 I have an adorable 18 month old baby who this week brought home beautiful blue angel he had made at day care. When presented with this lovely gift, my first thought was, If I put that on the tree, it’s going to clash with my lime green and chocolate brown colour scheme. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??

From this moment on I refuse to be stressed over Christmas! We often hear “the holidays are such a stressful time”. WHY? Really? Is this something that we should allow ourselves to get stressed over? I think that we make decisions (therefore choices) that lead us to be stressed over Christmas. We don’t HAVE to rack up our credit cards. We don’t have to spend our time with people we don’t like or get on with, and we don’t have to spend an hour upon hour cruising the aisles of Wal-Mart looking for the biggest gift we can find.

WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME (note I grew up in Sydney, Australia)

Church on Christmas Morning at 7.am.
Morning tea with the Waterson family.
Fresh cherries.
Real Christmas trees turning brown (due to the heat).
Australian Christmas Bush.
My family.
My mum’s infectious Christmas spirit.
Sharing food with extended family.
Badly wrapped gifts.
Chocolate coated raisins.
Heat and humidity.
Watching the cricket on Boxing Day.