Saturday night.  Feeling decidedly Autumnal out there.  Grey moody skies with gusty winds and the lush green summer shrouds are all quivering off the trees in the leafy green suburb where we live.

Half-way through school holidays and the kids are all home so we had a roast dinner and I made fresh bread which was a huge hit.  Life’s decidedly fucking boring and mundane right now and I absolutely Love it.

We are recently returned from a trip to Southeast Asia that was less than idyllic as I did an incredible “scene from the exorcist” impression after contracting a serious bacterial or perhaps amoebic infection through dirty ice in a huge cup of sugar cane juice in a market on a border town in Laos called Huay Xai.  Not. Fun. 

We were also smacked square in the face with serious environmental and human rights issues that just left me feeling spoiled and helpless.  Air quality was so bad you couldn’t see 10 metres into the distance and everything was an eerie sepia yellow tone no matter the time of day.  Fucking confronting.  

I Loved our trip.  Despite being sick as fuck and painfully confronted.  We also had to leave our planned itinerary so I could lay writhing in pain in a hotel room in Bangkok for a week.  The views were great and there were a few times I was even able to venture out of the room and into the winding streets and alleyways for a sneak peak.  

The people we saw, met and interacted with were fantastic.  Calm, humble, funny.  Southeast Asia has a vibe that is completely devoid of the “me first” urgency and hubris of Western countries – but at the same time we noticed that man can the Thais’ hustle.  There’s a sense of community everywhere you go, everyone seems to have some kind of job to do no matter how apparently high or low (societally), and whatever it is they’re doing – you can be sure they’ll do that job incredibly well. As for jumping up and down and demanding special treatment? Well that gets you nowhere in this part of the world. 

Bangkok is an amazingly poorly planned and yet somehow exquisitely functional city.  There’s abject poverty squished up against 5 star luxury.  One minute you are at a Sheraton and the next you’ve turned a corner into perfectly ordered alleyway of organised chaos.  Little street vendor stalls parked up and wash basins and bikes and all manner of kitchen appliances and accessories were stacked along walls and tucked in corners.  There was a cheerful and chatty old lady taking a sponge bath who was conversing contentedly with a friend who had a toddler perched in front of her on a rickety old bike.  Moments like that, are why I travel.  Being honoured with the luck to happen across such beautiful moments.  We were absolutely inconsequential in a city of well over 10 million permanent residents.  We just meandered through the streets, malls, train stations and restaurants people watching and relishing the anonymity.  

Home now, in our cushy, warm, beautiful, rented villa in Auckland.  This week I bought a cute little city car to ferry my kids around and get to and from the farm in.  My hand was forced as our old faithful Hybrid Lexus was stolen from right outside my son’s bedroom window at his father’s house.  The house is inside a gated compound, and they just left the gate ajar one evening as people were coming and going and some opportunistic thieves went right on in and helped themselves to the car.  Crazy.  Insurance will cover a decent part of the 2020 BMW i3 I now zip around the city in.  

That car cost us $42K in NZ coin.  I thought that was a bargain tbh.  The average office worker, after a university education in Thailand makes around 600฿ a day or around 250,000฿ per year.  That’s about $28.50NZD a day or 12K per annum in our currency.  So, I am driving my kids to school and myself to work in something that costs nearly 4 years worth of wages in Thailand. 

I didn’t need a trip to Thailand and Laos to know that I am drowning in privilege.  I didn’t need it, but I appreciate it and I am desperate to bring my kids there.  We are planning four weeks in the region at the end of this year, just us and the teenagers.  We’ve already arranged to meet up with a few of our contacts from this most recent trip, and I we feel like the most recent trip will be fresh enough in our minds that we will find be able to find our stride pretty quickly.

So that’s it.  Nothing really much to report or going on.  Feeling pensive and profoundly blessed to be lucky enough to have a brilliantly boring week here at the foot of Maungawhau in Tamaki Makaurau.  

Blessed but ready to close this chapter.  

Aotearoa has had 30 years of the very best I had to give and I really can’t say it’s heading in a direction I care to witness any longer.  Tall poppy shaming and shenenigans, bullies and bullshit artists, well, those shady fuckers seem to have far more influence and free reign than the enlightened, kind and collaborative people I am blessed to know lately.  It’s boring.  And tedious. 

So we will get our businesses and lives arranged in such a way that we can leave this island nation with the kids who are keen to join us on our next chapter.  I’m well ready to get gone at this point.  Every time I read the news, or hear about the latest patronizing patriarchal performance one of my esteemed goddess friends is suffering through, well it reminds me it’s time to move on.  

Selfish as that may be.  I can’t handle the trajectory my once beloved home is on.  

In the meantime, I am looking very forward to the time I get to spend with good friends, and the many adventures we have planned here down under in the Antipodes and Asia Pacific regions.  Every time I travel I learn something.  And there’s still so very much I want to (and need to) learn.

Founder-tigued!

Some people are great at starting things. Some excel at generating momentum. Then others thrive in BAU and steadying a ship. There are ideas people. There are details people. Some folks are logical, some people are magical contagious champions or cheerleaders. It’s all important and impactful stuff!

Aside from these various types of helpful humans, there’s unfortunately also a category of people who apparently prefer taking credit for things they did not do. They also deny responsibility for their mistakes, and generally exist to annoy and confound people who are earnestly trying to get through life with some level of purpose and poise.

After helping to found four businesses; organizing literally thousands of events & activities; starting charities, groups, and digital communities; I’ve been pretty public about getting burned out and bullied. But in all honesty, I don’t think I would have been half as exhausted if it wasn’t for the shit kicking I’ve taken from the aforementioned category of people. They are out there and that’s really boring and annoys me.

I’ve lost count of how many things I’ve instigated or created that have either fizzled out or been hijacked by losers who have never had an original idea themselves, but rather prefer to scavenge other people’s work. 

After grieving about it all for a bit, today I can honestly say I give none fucks. Did once. They’re gone. It is much better being fuckless in these matters. Let others take credit for things they didn’t do. Let opportunists feast on scraps from your table. Allow these folk to have a fleeting moment or throw their weight around and act like Mayor Shit of Turd Town riding on the tails of other people’s ideas, efforts and resources. Fuck it. Doesn’t even actually matter.

So here’s the thing. After years of being in 100% survival mode and pushing a lot of shit uphill, I made a conscious decision to step away from the incessant hamster wheel of that worldly rigmarole, and guess what, I now actually get to relax most of the time and live an incredibly blessed existence. 

My second husband and I spend most days as blissed out newlyweds. The company we have started together is going from strength to strength and operates at a very sustainable pace. Our friends are incredible and supportive, despite many (perhaps most) of them having to shovel plenty of their own proverbial uphill. Our kids get along and are thriving despite their own unique challenges and trials. The cat is an asshole but he’s our precious three legged jerk. Wouldn’t trade any of these things.

So… I am currently knocking on the door of my mid 40’s and finding myself – to coin a new phrase – “Founder-tigued”.  What does that mean? 

I recently made a new friend at a hen’s night, also a founder and fierce goddess, and she said something I can’t stop thinking about. We discussed how both her and I had spent decades filling our snoots with booze to battle our social anxiety and imposter syndrome.  As a result, she no longer drinks and I have been incredibly good at not drinking or drinking not too much for about four years now – even moderation in moderation say I!  

I’m not going to lie, both my new friend and I have had some pretty solid success with our first businesses, so the first night we met our chats covered how interestingly both our (in my case ex) halves get the vast majority of the credit for the success of these businesses that we had co-founded.  It’s just the way it is.  It’s unfair, unreasonable, uncool and unfun.  We also discussed mansplaining and being treated like an idiot because we are women – but that’s a rave for another time! 

The most profound moment of many profound moments speaking to my new friend was when I confided that I had been more hurt, disappointed, betrayed and confounded by cruel and manipulative women pretending to be my friends, than I ever was by useless misogynistic male bullies.  I also pointed out that despite that, I am utterly and honestly buoyed by the magic of women and the support and Love I have known since finding my “no” and protecting my boundaries.  

Women are powerful.  The women I know, Love, trust and rely on are powerful and together we can get through and create any damn thing that needs managing or manifesting.  Facts.

I suggested to her that we ought to consider some sort of plan to champion and support women.  No idea what it would look like, mentorship, investment, encouragement… but I felt we could do something cool.

The next time we hung out was at our mutual friends’ perfect wedding.  Here is what she told me between sipping coke zero and chatting about children and travel:

“I thought about what you said, and we should champion and support women together and I realized, I am just too tired.  Done, I am done.  So let’s hang out and not do that instead.”

That. Was. So. Helpful.

Here’s the thing, we both still have a lot left in the tank.  We are magical middle-aged goddesses with big brains full of strategy and experience that could be put to all kinds of good use.

But we’ve both also spent years working our asses off while being variously shat on from all kinds of different heights and directions. 

I like my new friend.  I am impressed by what she has done and who she is at this point when I have been lucky enough to meet her.  She’s got plenty going on and heaps of adventures all over the planet to look forward to this year, as do I.  

But right now, what I mostly want out of life is to expressly not found/start any or many new things because I am foundertigued.

And what that means is that I instead choose to have a handful of people close to me and a short beautiful list of things I am doing and am passionate about and can make a world of difference to. That’s not to say I won’t pop back up at some point; an older, wiser, stronger more powerful version of the hurricane I once was. I guess we shall see.

Thanks for reading.

What a ride the roaring 20’s has been so far am I right? 2023 started perfectly for this former human hurricane. We were snuggled up and sleeping well before midnight down in Rakiura. My husband and I are annoyingly well suited and very happy and loved up. We live a quiet life after two terrifically OTT and public careers and countless personal struggles took a very big toll.

We are happier than a couple of pot belly pigs in mud, living long luxurious lives on a vegan small holding. Life has literally never been so wonderful for either of us, and we have no intention of ever being as stressed, anxious and miserable as we were before we met. HOWEVER! We had done incredible amounts of work to heal and improve ourselves in the months and years leading up to us actually becoming romantically involved. It wasn’t simply a case of finding each-other and everything being fabulous.

Came to a bunch of scary realizations very early on in the pandemic, while putting together a presentation on my new-found obsession with boundaries and the word NO!  

That was early 2020. Not everyone would enjoy the life I lead these days. Quiet. Considered. Steeped in temperance most of the time. Still very busy setting up and growing our exciting and rewarding regenerative agriculture and tourism business. Surrounded by few but truly fabulous friends. Working on (and frequently failing at) zero waste living, carbon neutral travel, mindfulness, connection, radical accountability, and generally being obnoxiously authentic and hyper aware of our hypocrisy.

So, to kick of the year of the Rabbit 2023, on today, the first day of the new moon of this lunar calendar year, here are 23 absolutely random thoughts/learnings from my life on earth this round.  In no particular order whatsoever.

Take and leave whatever you like from the meanderings.  I have expanded on each of the points in a longer blog I’ll post on our Deemon Creative page.  

Big Love to you whatever you are up to this week and wherever you are up to it.  

1. You may never know the impact an act of support or kindness has had on someone, but it is entirely probable that choosing kindness has absolutely changed or even saved someone’s life – and you may or may not ever know this, but every genuine act of selflessness and support kicks off infinite ripples of hope in a world that is weary from an overload of fear and aggression.
2. I was once a genuine carbon criminal, galivanting globally and parading as a climate change and carbon divestment activist. Guess I will be working the rest of my days to assuage the guilt attached to that realisation.
3. Horrible, angry, sad, ignorant, loser people are capable of pretending to care for/support you when you have something they want, and those same smiling assassins/snakes in the grass are going to be the key to your burnout/downfall/tough lessons if you are not vehemently protecting your boundaries and actively living your truth
4. Most people are actually quite lovely, and fighting their own battles which you generally and genuinely cannot imagine
5. None of us have space or the ability to maintain more than a few meaningful and trust-based human relationships.  
6. It is not just okay, but necessary to let people go.  That can include, and sometimes has to start with toxic family
7. Happiness means being sad sometimes
8. Being brave and genuine may mean you lose some shit you thought you wanted; however, you will gain infinitely more peace and fulfilment when your priorities are aligned and you are ready to be honest with yourself first, and the world generally
9. There are few things that annoy people who dislike you or are jealous of you more than you just being generally okay.  Even worse being truly happy.  That’s the best and only revenge – work on you – Love you – Cherish and celebrate you.  Haters fucking hate that shit and they probably got all bitter toward you in the first place because they’re stuck in a sad grumpy hungry ghost cycle.  Wish them well and keep on shining, crying, grieving, laughing and growing.  Best. Revenge.  And you don’t have to plot or scheme or anything, just be fabulous
10. I was once, absolutely surrounded by assholes.  There were lovely wonderful people there too, but I got stuck helping, supporting, trusting and championing the wrong people on far too many occasions.  Now I am left with a few fabulous friends who celebrate my successes while I cheerlead and champion them unashamedly and OFTEN  
11. I am a fucking amazing friend, and being that attracts genuinely fucking amazing friends too. Virtuous cycle.  Damn… being able to just write down how at ease I am with the people in my life right now feels great and took a serious clean out back at the start of this pandemic to achieve
12. Choosing a good partner is integral to comfort, happiness, success, and peace.  Humans are definitely better on our own pouring love into a pet or hobby than in draining, toxic or untenable romantic relationships
13. Rest is VERY important
14. Laughter is medicine
15. Ask for what you need/want
16. Not following the royal shenanigans at all, but this morning’s news program the “Royal Commentator” (that’s a fucking job??? Oof… She seemed quite well paid at a glance too… anyway I digress…) this PROFESSIONAL royal commentator said:  “And let’s face it, isn’t life just far better and more meaningful with our families around?” To which my response is:  ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!  I kicked my abusive white trash family to the curb years ago, and while it is not simple and there’s always going to be aftershocks… it is hands down the most important, healing and intelligent decision I ever made for myself and my incredibly well adjusted children.  If something is actively destroying you, you need to remove that thing. Even if, perhaps ESPECIALLY if that thing is biological family.  As complicated as it all may be if people are hurting you – you deserve to feel safe.  No idea what will happen to Harry and his over-sharing. He has successfully made even me cringe and I simply don’t follow or much care about the royals, and am a serial over-sharing blogger myself.  Hope some good comes out of it all, aside from and on top of the HUGE paychecks that couple are collecting now that they’re off the royal payroll.  Whew… I got a bit ranty there eh…

MOVING ON

17. Stop caring what others think and put that wasted worrying energy into caring and mindfully doing fun, cool, brave, interesting, impactful, meaningful stuff instead.  When you do you will end up surrounded and lifted by the very best people who want to see you thrive and you will be doing the same for them.  It’s fucking beautiful!

18. You can do everything “right” and research/plan/prepare and still fall flat on your face.  Falling is okay, but you have to get back up and THAT is what will ultimately spur on and help you find your superpowers

19. Never been a better time to say… Fuck this shit! I am out! And pursue some crazy and amazing new projects or endeavours that fill you with joy

20. Maybe you aren’t the problem.  Then again… maybe you are. We all have to do the shadow work and really look at the part we play when things go wrong.  

21. Love the vessel you are in.  Love your senses, your scars, curves, edges and silhouette.  Move to music, rest purposefull, laugh loudly.  Challenge and cherish your beautiful mysterious super-computer that is a human brain with puzzles or meditation.  Learn new things.  Be curious. Be playful.  

22. Cry more if you can.  I have a friend who cannot cry because of her meds and I think that is just the fucking worst.  I cry several times a day, as in salty water leaks out my eyes.  It can be sadness, grief, frustration, joy, excitement, hope, empathy or any number of other big feelings that trigger those tears but it always feels great and I do it unashamedly whenever and wherever I want to.

23. Today we are younger than we are ever gonna be (thank you Regina Spektor) so get doing something – anything – if that is rest or work or play – today is as good a day as any to do something.  So get on your way!  

Thank you so much for reading!

The Pandemic completely changing my career, lifestyle, trajectory and perspective has had so many unforeseen advantages.

Exploring our beautiful island nation as a guest and seeing places through a sustainable tourism lens rather than as a spoiled b’ness bitch has been such a joyful experience to say the very least.  We have been all over Aotearoa from Great Barrier Island to Franz Joseph seeking ideas and guidance on our new sustainable tourism and regenerative agriculture retreat project.  

2020-2022 saw us have whole facilities more or less to ourselves and we enjoyed drifting down nearly empty roads and enjoying long chats with business owners who only had a tiny fraction of the guests passing through their doors while borders were closed.  

Yesterday evening in Te Anau verified that those days are long behind us.  It was with mixed feelings we watched establishments heaving with human activity and wait times of 2 hours for meals as staffing issues and shortages continue.

We got to overhear lots of North American accents complaining.  “Next time let’s go to Thailand Geoff.  This place looks just like Oregon and it’s expensive.  Not sure why we bothered”. Well Geoff, you and your wife can fuck off.  I do hope if you choose to go to Thailand you are more gracious guests there.

There was a time when I absolutely adored people and craved interaction with strangers and friends alike.  I would have overheard Geoff and his wife and convinced myself it was my job to turn them around and shine a light on how beautiful my chosen homeland is. These days, I keep my nose out of strangers conversations. Pretended not to hear them.

Something huge happened inside my soul and brain after my second nervous breakdown. That event transformed me forever, from quintessential extrovert to practicing introvert.  I still Love people.  These days though, rather than craving interaction humans generally scare me and annoy me where they used to fascinate and energize.

Being sucker punched, betrayed and disappointed by so many people was in hindsight a blessing. The fallout of watching people I was kind to, championed, and trusted over the years being creeps and cowards made me a bit of a hermit.  That fear/annoyance at humanity has been the acorn that has grown the idea that is slowly but surely turning into a mighty oak of sorts.  

As you read this, I hope whatever phase you are at in your journey, you know that it’s never too late to start over. Changing direction can be scary, but you might be pleasantly surprised at the outcome. We have been.

Falling deeply and completely in Love with my now husband, and also starting to Love and appreciate myself happened after unplugging and mic dropping. Finally feel like I’m whole again after being fueled for decades by serious self-loathing and a need to prove myself. So many women just like me are hyper vigilant over-achievers after being gaslit, neglected, sabotaged and shat all over by people who ought to support and protect them. My story is not unique.  While figuring all this out and finding my voice and boundaries was definitely unfun and probably nearly killed me, the view from the other side is incredible. Now that I am safe and happy, perhaps I feel like it was all even worthwhile.  

Anyway.  I found hope and happiness in serene isolation on a 50 acre neglected, weed and predator infested, block of topographically challenging clay just outside of Matakana village.  I was safe from the outside world as there was no internet or phone coverage. We had to drive town to the end of the road to send the kids messages. The car was Damon’s office where he sat on the phone for hours that first few weeks. We lived simply and naturally, pulling weeds, preparing food from scratch, and planning what we might do with this all but forgotten piece of dirt I fought so hard to hold on to through my recent divorce.

Nothing that had happened to me until that point in my life created quite the same level of peace and comfort as being left the fuck alone for a few weeks on that hill.

It’s nearly three years later now, and we’ve poured Love, time, and resources into trying to create a place that is inviting and safe for Aotearoa’s native biodiversity first, and people who just want to be left well enough alone for a bit second.

There are countless other things going on and limitless options for what we will do with the place now and in the future.  Today though, I’mm hiding in a hotel room in Te Anau reading the absolutely stellar feedback from guests at our solidly booked retreat. Feeling fucking fantastic about my life choices and the opportunity we have just had to see in the new year on the isolate Rakiura.  We heard the hoopla down the hill at the pub, but were tucked in bed snug and sober after a lovely day of bike rides and beach laying with precious few other humans anywhere in view.

The world outside our door is falling to bits in many ways. Moving into 2023 I accept that I can’t save the planet. Instead I choose to be.  Be gentle and curious and kind.  Be busy enough to keep our beloved farm improving at a pace we can pay for and handle.  Be grateful for my few fabulous trusted friends.  Be in Love with my spunky monk. Be joyful as he actively and vocally adores me daily. Be brave and stand up to bullies and their bullshit. Be gentle to myself and champion my beloved witchy women and wonderful many other magical friends as they face their own challenges.

2023 is a year to be.

And I hope you get to be the very best you throughout and don’t be too much like ungrateful Geoff and his wife even when things don’t go as planned or don’t meet your expectations.

Thanks for reading.

Digital Dipshittery vs Magic IRL

Damn my digital footprint is a proper mess.

I own and manage 17 domains and 9 active (this is a relative term… some I only update biennially) websites. Don’t even get me started on the social media clusterfuckery I have drowned myself in over the years. Far out.

Taking a FB break on my personal page as I scrolled through all morning and landed on NONE news from people I actually know or care about. My feed is chocked full of advertisements and paid content and that’s not what I signed up for. I signed up to see what my cousin Anne in Ottawa is wearing while she gets her bake on.

Social media mostly sucks these days. I like being left alone. I cherish my quiet but meaningful little life and my close and trusted friendships. I like real life stuff like dinners, travel, laughter and showing a bunch of lovely people the farm at our Kiwi wedding earlier this month. Granted, I was in bed by 9pm that evening while the party carried on by the bonfire until the wee small hours without me. I liked that it happened and I LOVED the vibe and the joy that each and every guest carried up the hill with them.

Procrastination Stations! Temporarily Homeless but far from Hopeless

Today I should be packing up to put our whole house in storage while we find suitable accommodation as my ex husbands’ new wife doesn’t want us living in the former family home. So one week before moving in, after months of negotiation and attempting to save his sorry ass by paying market rent on a place he has not yet cleared out for sale or rent, he rang my new husband and I to tell us we had to fuck off. Bit of a blessing in disguise, despite being a HUGE inconvenience. The big kids now refuse to go back to their father’s house, and I gotta say I don’t blame them. Love that they are brave and feel safe in the culture we’ve built, but it means the 50/50 custody freedom we so thoroughly enjoyed just isn’t on the table right now. We have all grown much closer and happier through the drama. Just hope we can find a house soon as being nomadic would be fine if it was just us, but with four kids and two cats the uncertainty is a bit unbearable, but we will prevail!

So today, between packing, I have been doing other things including creating content because that is the magic of raging ADHD.

Looking through my life over the last couple of decades of digital content I was triggered more than a bit by all the care, resource and enthusiasm I have chucked away on dipshits, cowards and opportunistic con artists over the years. It’s not bitterness or shame or a desire for revenge that is triggered though. It is a heightened and now profound lack of fucks that is triggered.

Here’s the thing about most things. You can’t control them. Here’s the thing about most, perhaps ALL people. You can’t change them. And here’s the thing about life. It’s not often fair, but there’s always a lesson to be learned.

You Are In Control

Here’s another thing that I really hope you let sink in as you read it: Sometimes you just gotta let shit go.

I’ve been having a grand old time clearing out my social media and networks over the past three years. I’ve all but disappeared to most people. This was necessary after being painfully and dangerously accessible for years. I always thought that I could kill any badness with kindness. I thought I could slay dragons and demons with enthusiasm and honesty. Boy was I an idiot. I made it almost impossible for so many people not to shit all over me. I gave everyone an all access pass to me for years and asked for, and received, very little in return. The target on my back was massive and I gave everyone plenty of ammunition to shoot me with. Even some perfectly nice people have proper pissed me off through cowardice or dumbfuckery over the years. So. Now I live a lovely quiet little life and let most things go. I’m not mad or sad. I am really glad I get to be the happy little budding banana farmer I am.

My fundamental needs are met, and I get to live a meaningful life that includes cleaning toilets and washing windows on the farm between guests. I fucking love it. I don’t have to deal with too many people, and Damon and I can be infinitely particular about those we do work with. And we are. Very picky and incredibly appreciative of our true friends.

You Gotta Choose or You’ll Lose it All

Many people, including the me that I was, had or have messed up ideas about control. I thought that pushing through, holding on, hustling and working meant I’d be able to keep juggling chainsaws unharmed.

Nope.

There’s a finite amount of anything and everything we all get and nothing we strive for or choose comes for free.

If you want a kick ass personal brand or career, that’ll probably cost you your privacy. If you want to have an amazing social life, you might find yourself out of steam for busting through that glass ceiling come Monday morning. Perhaps you crave a happy home life and well adjusted kids? Welp, get in that mini-van and ferry those parasites around and forget about fitting in the gym time or weekly wines with your bestie. Everything costs something, nobody on earth can or does have it all.

The bullshit that we can have it all has been spoon fed to us along with other untrue pipe dreams such as “the American Dream” or “Good Vibes Only”.

Control Freak vs Happy Geek

I need to begin to tie some of this together.

If I ask myself what I have mostly let go of in the past few years and what has seen me move from being an unhappy OTT control freak to a happy farm geek it is the following:

• Unsatisfying or one sided relationships
• worrying about what other people think
• craving validation
• pushing shit up hill and/or sticking with stuff that’s clearly not working

So if you have made it this far, I really want to send a solid shoutout to the power of trusting, prioritising and looking after yourself. Then you won’t have to spend so much time and energy trying to control the things over which you have no control.

Manage you. Take care of you. Say no when you don’t wanna go. Say yes to things that make you feel blessed and block and remove people and things that consistently cause you distress.

Life is messy. You gotta decide what you want from it and hold fast to those dreams. Build them. Nurture them. Try not to get distracted by shiny veneers or the pursuit of a “perfect” family or social circle, sometimes even family has to go. Kicked my biological mother for touch years ago and have been happy and healing from her tyranny ever since. Shed hundreds of “friends” from social media and real life and I will continue to clean that shit out like a fucking boss. Let go of keeping up with the Joneses or big fat pay packets in a job that will destroy your soul. You know what makes you truly happy and this is your only life to go after it.

So do the stuff you gotta or wanna do and let things you can’t control pass on through.

Squeezing things tighter doesn’t make you lighter. Trust me. You deserve to let some things (and people) go.

Thanks for reading.

I realise that this post is not exactly breaking news. However, I’m in a bad mood as I’ve just had to boot a consistently negative Nelly all the way out of my mostly magical real life. Which got me thinking how much I’d like to boot all of the ongoing stress inducing negativity off my screen too.

Bad mood.

Our moods definitely shine a light on things and this grump I’m in cast a spotlight on my current, ongoing and growing annoyance with social media and advertising algorithms.

So here is what I’ve done:

I scrolled down my @deehobbit instagram feed and screenshot the first few advertisements.

Context… ?

I’ve recently started at the gym for mental and physical hygiene. I’m not obsessed or anything and I’ve taken the week off as I had an exposure event two Friday’s ago the day after returning from Wellington. Tested Tuesday after the fact and had a weak positive RAT. Three negatives since but I chose to err on the side of caution as I quite often do these days.

So anyway.

Here’s the lay of the land as I scrolled this morning. Every 3rd-10th post was an annoying unwelcome advertisement despite the fact I follow hundreds of active accounts I WANT to see content for. Cheeky fuckers. Ramming stuff down our throats just so we can keep in touch with people we actually choose.

Seems to me nearly every one of those advertisements was preying on my insecurities… wait one ☝️ add was for a sauna 🧖‍♀️ which we have actually been discussing buying for the retreat… and another encouraging me to watch a mycology documentary I have already watched several times. Soooo… most pandering to insecurities some just verified I’m a crunchy granola off gridder/regenerative geek these days.

ANYWAY! Here they are:

So. That’s all I’ve got bandwidth for today. I’m going to be taking another social media break soon. In the meantime I’m going to get myself into the garden to get myself out of this decidedly shitty mood.

Wish you a very happy holiday Monday whatever you’re up to and thank you for reading.

Wedding Photos Have ARRIVED! This Blog will have a smattering of Sarah’s moments and I will take a selection of Dick’s (that is my bestie Richard BTW, get your mind out the gutter and rest on the sidewalk my beloved reader!) pics and share them farther down in the post or later today.

Our talented photographers Richard (Often shortened to the name Dick in ye olden days) and Sarah actually paid their own way to our wedding AND did the photography AND helped and calmed and cheered and were basically. generally and completely amazing.

To say we are grateful to them for their talent, efforts, presence, joy, and friendship seems decidedly feeble, as they managed the kids and my bride-zilla ass with grace and proficiency.  I was pretty stressed out at the time, and perhaps even wondering if getting married a second time was the right choice.  

You know what, it totally was.  My husband is a doting, smitten, adoring, vulnerable, loveable goofball who knew exactly what he was signing up for and has never doubted our union or our purpose led pathway for a moment.  We both shifted our whole lives and prioritized our relationship as the defining force, particularly since the onset of the pandemic.  

I am not accustomed to feeling like I am enough.  Neither of us are used to the extreme ease that sets the tone for most of our days together.  But here we are.  Married just a smidge over a month now.  But, oh my, we fought a lot that first week.  We’ve found a calm reconciliation and I am pleased to report we are quite genuinely and generally blissed out newlyweds just living our lives and toiling away at tasks counting moments until we are reunited at the end of the working day.

We took stock of what has happened in the month since we married, and the list is actually awesome.  If we had not been the ones doing the doing of the things that have been done, I’d scarcely believe it were possible.  But together we have navigated a behemoth to-do list.  He’s started a full-time role so I am placed (reluctantly) as the primary farm focused force in our marriage for the next few months.

I will write more about all of that later, but now, I just wanted to look back on a truly magical and wonderful wedding day and share some of Dick’s pics and Sarah’s Magical Moments.

Must start by telling you that, although it seems like there’s been a lot to complain about, the passion and conviction that started us off on the farm and eco-tourism project has grown, not shrunk, through the stormy winter squalls and serious infrastructure issues of the winter of 2022.

Thank you everyone who is following the journey, thank you most of all to those who have taken the time to call, write, comment and share their experiences. BIGGEST shoutout to the friends and contractors who have hustled to keep us moving forward and fixed things for us in this appalling weather!

Is it wet? Yes.  Is clean up going to be shockingly expensive and hard fought?  Absolutely!  Are we the only people shoveling mud and muck and soaking to the bone? Not a chance.  

Across the country roads are closed, hillsides have slipped and chaos and crud is being spread all over our beautiful landscapes.  We are all being bombarded with wetter, dryer, hotter, colder, and generally crazier weather.  Nothing feels more important, fulfilling, or urgent than getting ready for the shitstorm that climate change has already placed on all our doorsteps.

I am not a doomsday prepper or anything.  The motivation for moving slowly but steadily toward a zero waste, hyper local, and self-sufficient life is anchored in self-interest and personal evolution, but it also gives me a connection with new communities, as well as nurturing my healthy and productive friendships as we struggle through self-reflection, evolving, radical accountability, and STILL being pelted with new and exciting challenges, struggles and adventures.

Also, I am decidedly shit at walking the talk of many or most of the honourable and important endeavours I mentioned earlier. I have a Zero Waste kit in the car and I often/always fucking forget to bring it in with me so still end up getting too many take-away containers and adding to my reusable bag collection, which is MASSIVE. Tote life episode of We Bear Bears springs to mind…

The point though, is that I am trying.  I have an earnest and burning ambition to be self-sufficient and as close to carbon neutral or deficient in our footprint before this tumultuous decade is out.  This change for me is incremental and I am reminded DAILY that many/most of my friends, mentors and associates are better than I am at getting lots of shit done.  I am surrounded by vegans and off-grid or clean energy evangelists.  Everyone I know is better at something than me, and I do not begrudge or mind this at all, it is amazing to be lifted and Loved by champions of change and impactful advocates and activists.  

You know who you are.  I see you.  And I am so eternally grateful for you and your efforts and the support you give me and the Deemon vision.  

The fact is though, the more we learn and the harder we work, the more the universe is prone to step in to keep us humble and remind us that doing something is integral, but there’s always going to be more to do.

Doing nothing at all is simply not an option for myself or my peers in these uncertain years.  

We’ve sowed thousands of food, flower and native fauna seeds and the vast majority of that bounty has been eaten up by the beautiful birds and industrious possum population.  The pigs and goats have had a good go at fucking our shit up around the property too.  

Sigh.

So, that’s all for today. The wind is whipping around outside, the pool at the rental property is full of furniture and fronds from the nasty palm the landlords have refused to cut down, despite consistent requests from us and our beloved neighbours. It is cold, miserable and wet and will stay that way for a while.

We will do what we can to mitigate the mayhem and then we are running off to the South Island for five days of skiing, research and basking in the glow of being newlyweds.  We have rented a Model 3 from Go Rentals and have our zero-waste kit packed and prepped!

We will need to plant and plan a lot of regenerative improvements to off-set the travel we have already enjoyed, but I am dedicated to facing that realistically, honestly and transparently.

Won’t be catching up with anyone from the community this mini-break as Damon and I need to just be a couple and hunker down in our own company for five days, but we Love, admire and appreciate you all sfm, and there will be more opportunities to connect and collaborate before the year is out I am sure.

Thanks for reading!  

XXOO

Dianna 

Friday evening our neighbours invited us over for nibbles and a few drinks. Love them. We don’t agree on everything but they’re just fabulous and I always enjoy time spent with them. It was sort of meant to be our farewell shindig, as we have had a less than stellar situation with the rental property we’ve inhabited in Pt. Chevalier since November last year. There was a massive kerfuffle and we were epically let down by the person we trusted to house-sit and feed our beloved cats, and that meant we secured a new rental in St. Mary’s Bay, only to find out that we would not be let out of this lease without huge penalties.

What an unwelcome clusterfuck it all turned out to be.

But it’s all been a learning curve and helped this former hurricane to evolve even farther into a much quieter powerhouse indeed.

Upshot of these shenanigans is, we will be moving out in November, and that gives us plenty of time to seek out a much better situation and pack and plan rather than rushing to get out in under a fortnight. I’ll chalk that up as a win. Kids are happy to stay settled until the spring, and we actually adore the street and neighourhood. So, we’re pleased to be next to a handful of lovely human’s we’ve been honoured to get to know for a bit longer as well. We really do like our neighbours, the quirky bunch that they are.

Being at the mercy of the rental market has been shit though. We are in a very fortuitous situation and can reasonably manage high rent and flexible terms. So few people are in the same situation, and the bullshit we’ve had to deal with as tenants has shone a light on the fear I am feeling for most people here in Aotearoa and around the world as we move into extreme financial, social, geopolitical and climate crisis uncertainty.

Is it my place to be freaking out for humanity? Who knows.

Fact is, I’ve always had a bit of a messiah complex. Always thought that it’s my job, duty or calling to help and defend people and causes who pique my empathy or concern. My tactics have changed, but the sentiment and sincerity remain.

Old me would rush into battle and defend and offend with reckless abandon. I’d go for a scorched earth approach to negotiating if I was adequately convinced enough that I was fighting on the side of the “good guys” or defending person or cause I deemed worthy.

Not these days though.

Now, I really just want to be left the fuck alone for the most part. I can still shake my fists and plan for campaigns to back any of my many beloved causes. From equality to the climate. From SQUEEZING THE FUCKING TOOTHPASTE AT THE BOTTOM NOT THE MIDDLE FFS! to correct installation of the toilet paper roll. I fight my battles in private for the most part. I am incredibly picky about who is allowed near me, how I spend my time and what, where, when and how I engage with the world.

Years ago, I measured success by social media clicks, likes and engagement or clocking up meetings, networking and just generally putting myself anywhere and everywhere for attention and to champion my agendas. I grieve for the girl who broke herself into little pieces fighting uphill battles and being sabotaged and scarred by people who ought to have been supportive, or at the very least not assholes in response to the support and trust she so freely gave them. She craved so much validation, but the secret to a safer kind of success was in her the whole time:

You can’t control the world around you. You can only hope to control how you handle what happens.

I still have a plethora of feathers in my social, personal, professional and proverbial cap and you can mark my words I have plans to keep fighting for the things I Love and believe in.

Now, however, I just don’t give a fuck who knows what I am up to or what they think about me or my efforts. The right people arrive and stay. The wrong people tend to fuck off or fade away.

The secret to both my happiness and success these days is really just that I now don’t mind keeping the vast majority of what we are up to a bit of a secret. The people who need to know and are involved in any of our projects are kept abreast of situations, and I can share and amplify truths and experiences as much or as little as I choose.

Never felt so safe or been so happy in my life. Hope someone who has been burdened with pathological people-pleasing or suffering from crisis fatigue reads this and decides to enjoy some secretive success and a bit of rest.

That’s all I have to say today.

XXOO

I’ve enrolled in a creative writing short course.  For years I have effusively written and shared experiences and my struggle with mental health and just generally juggling the nuances of life, Love, family, friends and career.  After promising my closest friends (most notably my former and future husbands Steve and Damon) I decided to take some affirmative action, and try to polish this shiny little creative diamond that’s been forged under the pressure of years of being an over-sharing hot mess hurricane.  

I like to write.  

That isn’t to say I think I am particularly good at it, and my raging ADHD means I rarely finish or effectively form or edit pieces or projects.  Really, I’d rather just spew words and then press the share button on my WordPress page.  It’s clearly very self-indulgent and inarguably therapeutic.  Not necessarily inspiring or impressive, but it’s something meaningful to me and the handful of readers who take the time to read my clumsy, roaming ramblings.

Strangely, over the years, the word that seems to come up most often when someone reads my meanderings is “brave” and I find that lovely but strange.  The core interesting theme worth mentioning about this class, is that we are focused on writing “the hero’s journey”.  That’s rather lovely isn’t it.  I’ve said countless times that we all have to be our own fucking hero.  We are so inescapably the hero (or villain) in our own story, and now I am charged with the privilege of creating a fictional journey that I may or may not share with the world. 

Eek.

Sharing as I’ve done to date doesn’t feel brave.  Living is brave.  Being alive and not becoming bitter feels brave.  I know so many who succeed at this harrowing expedition of existence, and I have met so many cowardly, mean-spirited, villains who do not contribute to the rich tapestry of existence, but rather take advantage and feel entitled and always have excuses and rarely do anything meaningful or bold. So, the gift of being let down, thrown under busses, lied to, lied about, and brutally betrayed by people I thought I could trust has given me what other’s call courage.

I don’t think it is courage, think at this stage it’s just numbness and nobody can kick me while I am down, because, quite frankly, I just no longer give a fuck.  Maybe marrying a man who was once an ordained monk has giving me a sense of cheerful nihilism.  I am aware, sharing my vulnerability and experiences may be ammunition for evil or insecure dipshits who have an axe to grind concerning me specifically, or perhaps just generally.  That’s about them, and their decision to be tragic and contemptable characters in my story or their own doesn’t actually have much to do with me.  More the pity for them as my character arc has landed me these past couple of years in a kind of happily-ever-after cocoon. The safety of where I dwell daily was built in response to my many failed attempts to help or be a lightning rod of hope or change, or to behave in ways that I thought were kind or heroic.  

Now in midlife, my journey to this point ended in exhaustion, but I’ve been blessed and feel so honoured to have completed countless doomed quests and misadventures. I’ve ditched my messiah complex and feel just fucking fine most of the time.  And when things get scary or my trauma/PTSD sneaks up and bites me I can hunker down in my burrito/cocoon safe in the knowledge the feeling will pass and I’ll be able to get back on track.  There’s nothing epic or superhuman about my character arc these days.  It’s been an honour to share it with people though.

I don’t have so much to say or write about since my nervouse breakdown and the reboot that occurred as a result.  Truth is, not much happens because I actively live a life of calm reflection and I vigilantly avoid chaos and drama.  Some people might disagree, but it’s all relative.  

I’ve chosen this existence after a long and agonizing journey on a path of naivete, ridiculous generosity, and a tedious tendency toward self-destruction.  Living a life that was at times exciting and enlightening, but I wouldn’t say brave, has been a privilege and I don’t want to go back to being cringe-inducing OTT and over-doing everything and ever-egging every batter.  Sharing with people what a dipshit I can be is part of my attempt at always trying to be a bit better, while clearly knowing I’ll never actually have my shit together.  Just doing my best with the limited time I have on this earth.  This simplicity is just one of countless examples of what is called the hero’s journey.  We all get to (and actually have to) be the hero or the tragedy in our own story.  If we overcome and grow, it is a triumph and a story worth sharing.  If we learn nothing and play the victim and do not embrace opportunities to change or evolve, we are living a tragedy.  Both outcomes are useful.  One is inspiring and the other serves as a warning.  

You still with me?

So.  Second week and the very first exercise has very nearly broken me.  Loving it.  It’s dangerous and terrifying and I don’t even have to get out of my pyjammas to feel confronted and conflicted and alive.  I am comfortable feeling uncomfortable and this certainly delivers that sensation.

I’ve had no problem putting myself in the line of fire on stages, social or traditional media, or just living my life out loud and in people’s face.  I flew and fell and failed and thrived so many times and in so many ways and it landed me in a serene state of regeneration and recovery.  I was missing something though, and I’m fucking terrified of the task at hand.

All I have to do is write and re-write an opening scene to a story I never thought I would write.  Following instructions from our tutor (who I sincerely suspect finds me insufferable and obnoxious… which is not only fair but accurate) as authentically as I can.  Rather than doing that, I decided to crawl over here to my blog and bitch and moan and procrastinate a little rather than just doing the work.  Doing stuff is scary.  Avoiding stuff is scarier.  I’m drifting between both and adequately mastering neither.

The hero’s journey begins with a single step, and for some reason that first fucking step feels like it’s going to fling me into an abyss and I may never land anywhere meaningful.

Sharing my actual life was easy. and empowering and owning my dipshittery was freeing. Writing a story is going to require a bunch of courage, creativity and conviction that I’m not yet certain I possess.

Guess I’ll post this and go work on my assignment and time will tell eh.

Thanks for reading.  

XXOO