Month: December 2023

My Happiness

It is the last day of 2023 and it has me feeling all grateful, nostalgic and shit.

So. Gratitude.

I am married to a font of joy and childlike enthusiasm.  Damon can be heard singing every day.  He could be in the shower or pottering around.  He sings the wrong lyrics to existing tunes or makes up songs that are heavily punctuated with my name: “Dianna, we know she can-a do ANYTHING!  And she’s so pretty and sexy toooooo” is just one example of the many bangers that come wafting from the kitchen or shower as my beloved goes about his day

He’s also got a cute little interpretive dance improvisation situation he busts out while driving or if he’s got his music on while he flits like a wood nymph around the farm.  

He has off days and gets in a huff sometimes, but generally and on average I suspect he might be one of the happiest people walking the planet right now.  

I wish MOST people could be as content as my zesty, tidy, hard-working and super sweet silver fox.  Maybe I even wish everyone could be that happy.  The world would suck less if people were less angry and more inclined to sing and dance and feel free, complete, and blessed.  If humans were generally less power and money hungry and more willing to sing in the shower and stay too long in bed snuggling someone they adore, maybe we’d all be okay, and there wouldn’t be so many angry violent assholes raging around destroying things.

Tangent.  Sorry.  I try not to fixate on the wars and weary world we all collectively continue to damage and destroy… I save those conversations for IRL talks with trusted friends.  I know where I stand on the divisive conversations and situations unfolding around me, and I do not have the strength or inclination to fight those causes on a digital front.  But writing this is a reminder we are overdue a contribution to one or more of the trusted relief agencies we support.

Tangent over.  Back to my train of thought about Damon.

Nostalgia.

When we first started dating he was not the happiest or most childlike person you’d happen upon.  He was more like a kicked puppy than the free styling, shower-singing, dad-joking, happy farming fella his is now. And I was a complete self-loathing hot mess who was convinced that I was far too much for any one human to Love or handle.  I trusted too easily, took far too many stupid risks and had no sense of safety, boundaries or self-worth.  Shortly after we started seeing each other, he was left to sweep the shards of me up off the floor after my second nervous breakdown in as many years.  Thankless, terrifying work for an already exhausted human who had his heart and mind mangled by his own trials, changes and choices.

Nobody (including me) would have bet on us making it out of the gate as a couple. Yet, here we are five years later, building a narrative that is actually evolving into a meaningful little legacy of regeneration, biodiversity, community, kindness, empowerment and plenty of messy mistakes that we get to turn into learning opportunities.

It actually took the entire universe conspiring to keep me from lighting a match and burning our chances to the ground as I was accustomed to doing for so long.  I was not quite convinced of the concept of one true Love forever and Damon was undeniably terrified of what might happen if he made himself available to hot mess me.

So the world shut down and we were locked up on the farm for weeks and weeks.  And it was easy, and it was pleasant and it was wonderful.  There was no way for the outside world to enter our idyllic bubble, and Damon had to drive down to the end of the road and sit isolated in the car all day to continue his duties as CEO at the environmental trust he was managing.  He’d get home and any access to the outside world was again severed and we’d frolic (often naked as the day we were born) in our private little wilderness.  We’d thrash through gorse and pampas and plant perfect little veggie baby seeds and plan improvements on our piece of paradise.  Our only visitors/neighbours were the Kereru, Tui, Waxeyes, Ruru, Piwakawaka, Tuna, Kura and skinks.  

I had no idea how important those weeks offline and immersed in nature would set the tone for one of the most epic tours of self-discovery and complete re-shuffling of goals and priorities.

We are doing our best to parent 7 amazing kids.  We are trying to be kind, fair, clear, inspiring, and generous to our team and contractors.  We have THE most incredible friends and there’s never enough time to catch up with everyone we Love and admire.  Yet, when we do, it is always incredible.  

We still have to navigate an immense amount of stress and BS that is beyond our control.  We (mostly Damon) have some more grueling months or years ahead where we have to deal with people who we do not like or respect and who live in a world of priorities that we find dull, basic and actually quite unpleasant.  But we stand firm in the power we do have and we are consistent and clear on our own vision and strategy.  I am pretty sure the happiness and completely peripheral success we enjoy far FAR away from their world irks them.  Their measures of success is power-hungry patriarchy bullshit we don’t have time to be impressed by EVER.  I’ve never seen that formula work for anyone. The people who play in that sandpit are usually lonely, arrogant, sad and more often than not insufferable to genuine and authentic people. But they can go ahead and fill their expensive designer boots with their posturing and pathetic game playing.  We will be well shed of it all at some point and they’ll never cross our minds or paths again.  Whew.  That’ll be a good fucking day.

So any given day, while mean greedy people are busy doing mean greedy things somewhere that we definitely are not… Damon spends the morning wrapped in my arms for long lazy moments pontificating at length about how precious, smart, kind and beautiful I am to him.  I do not feel beautiful as I have packed on more than a few happy pounds, but with him I feel safe and complete and I do not for a second have any reason to doubt his devotion.  He’s an awe inspiring human inside and out and he’s too fucking good for me in any measurable sense I can think of, but here we are… and for that I am so consistently and overwhelmingly grateful.

I spent years making countless futile attempts to do anything to feel worthy and be Loved.  I was ALWAYS in places and spaces where I was not welcome or appreciated.  Many people were kind and encouraging, but too often they were opportunistic, mean, cruel, dishonest or just awful.  Don’t get me wrong, I was a big part of the problem back then too, as I managed to scare off or freak out good people who meant well by being an inconsistent, self-destructive, impossible fucking mess. But the rub on this and the message I am trying to share is that back then, the people who really ought to have been protecting and respecting me and were the closest to me, were actually putting in effort to disempower, humiliate and destroy me. Not. Great.

So yup, I was looking for purpose in the wrong places, faces and pursuits.  Nothing I did, regardless of the results, was ever good enough for the people closest to me back then, and it probably looked from the sidelines like things were kinda okay.  I’m especially grateful to the handful of people who watched and waited for me to get my shit together and can have a safe and rewarding relationship.  I am way better regulated since hooking up with and marrying my happiness.  

So.  What I wanted to say was:

If you are going through hell, keep going.  Find help and remove yourself from toxic people, places and patterns and start a life that is safe and gentle and may look absolutely NOTHING like the life you have known.  Give away the things that do not serve you and know that you are worthy of honesty, respect, joy, safety and Love.  We all are.  If you’re made to feel you are not, you are in the wrong place and trust me we are better off alone than surrounded by people that destroy our peace or actively derail us.

The person you choose to spend the most time with sets the whole tone for your life.  The things you enjoy doing and the people that feel safe and welcome in the culture that you create and nurture is incredibly influenced by the person you choose as your emergency contact/partner.  

If you are still reading, can I also suggest this year that you try to nurture the friendships and pursuits that are rewarding, good, fun, and on balance make you and those involved better for the effort.  HOWEVER… Do NOT expect or demand perfection from yourself or others.  That’s just not even a thing.  Do have firm and well communicated boundaries and stand firm and fair concerning them as you navigate.  But do not waste what precious time you have being gaslit, ignored, abused or underestimated.  Vibe high and your people will find you.

Reasons and seasons and lifetimes your angels and advocates will find you, and false friends and problematic or opportunistic people will test your boundaries at times too.  Don’t give up on people but make it clear what you will and will not tolerate and when your trust or boundaries are broken let go and get on with your beautiful magical life.  And do it without any hate or bitterness in your heart.  We are all fighting a hard battle.  And we are all at different stages of our journey and evolution.

So that’s my soppy message for the last day of 2023.  If you are going through hell, keep going.  If you are feeling safe and blessed and growing, keep going!  You deserve peace and joy and magic.  

I wish you good health, and more belly laughs than heaving sobs, but enough of every emotion to keep you humble, brave, and connected to the things you Love in the year ahead.

Always Something

After decades of trial, error, observation, and experience, I have come to a fairly sturdy conclusion that no matter what stage you’re at or how hard you work on yourself and your healing, there will always be some sort of shitty situation you’ve gotta sit with and learn from.  The confessions I am about to make may trigger some people, as my major mental issue at present is small, shallow, vapid, and well within my control to change.

Right now there’s plenty of frustrating and disappointing people (generally men) doing dumb and destructive stuff in my direct line of sight and strangely, none of it has too much effect on me.  I can’t control idiots, and they behave in idiotic ways and seem to think there are no consequences and they must actually assume everyone around them is stupid and not taking notes or notice, but we are.  

Luckily, in my experience, those morons ALWAYS hoist themselves on their own petard eventually.  So, despite sometimes having a direct and adverse effect on my actual life, other people’s dumbassery doesn’t seem to get to me these days.  I almost expect it. All it does is make me regularly roll my eyes and carry on with what is currently a lovely and low drama existence.  

So my job as a sentient being right now is to build my best life and live my safe and satisfying existance as fully as I can on any given day.

I generally and genuinely LOVE whatever I am doing on any given day.

Today I’m at Kookaburra Wellness retreat hanging out with Timid the most magical marmalade kitty cat 🐈

I spend most of my time jaunting around the Southern Hemisphere at the moment.  We visit lovely lodges and tourist spots engaging with amazing people in this eclectic and openly warm and inviting industry.  We are building a legacy on our 50 acre regenerative farm, and still coming up with a brief on what that looks like.  We have more or less between 2 and 5 years to decide in concrete and binding terms how much work we are going to make for ourselves.  We are giving life to a dream of eco-chic tourism, connection, community, regeneration and meaningful conversations.  I’ve never EVER felt so certain or so fulfilled by any professional endeavour.  This is bound to be the last business I start, and I am in no rush to have this project off my hands as it is fulfilling and exciting on so many levels.

This next part of this blog is probably (and reasonably) going to piss people off.

My emotionally crippling issue at the moment is my appearance. I am in the cycle of being sad about my weight and then emotional eating to chase endorphins and dopamine to ease my uneasiness. I was chock full of cortisol for decades, living in survival mode. Part of that total lack of emotional and general regulation is that I have struggled with many (possibly most) eating disorders. Body dysmorphia and me are well acquainted. I’ve walked this world as a fully grown adult human weighing well over 90kg and under 40kg. Body shaming issues among women are a genuine fucking issue and I see every woman aside from myself as a magical, beautiful vessel.

I am guilty of calling one or two women I sincerely do not like ugly, but it’s an ugly that shines from the inside… Actually fuck that, I gotta stop doing that it is absolute bullshit.

Sigh.

The women in my life are wonderful. And we should know better but sometimes we STILL greet each other with “omg! Have you lost weight!” after time apart. It is engrained in us to see/acknowledge/judge ourselves and other women on weight. That’s not cool I hate that I do it too.

This picture tipped me over some kind of edge… just… sad 😢

It’s fucking bullshit.  I want it all to stop.  I hate me for being mean to me and I hate how much it consumes me.  

I went to aqua aerobics with one of my very most favourite, beautiful, powerful witches last week.  We were definitely the youngest people in the pool that day.  And I looked around at the grey haired goddesses and was moved by how genuinely stunning they all were.  Truly I was in awe of them, their magic, their vibrancy, their cheekiness, enthusiasm and incredible aesthetic divinity.  Joy and humour and a palpable sense of not giving a fuck flowed from the women in that pool and I was inspired and impressed by the whole situation.

Yet I hate myself and struggle to even look in the mirror.  I barely want Damon to touch me and I am stuck in a rut of pouting and self-deprecation.  Stupid, stupid, stupid stuff.

I’m currently doing what I do and running away from reality and returning home to a closet full of clothes that do not fit me.  

I purchased a pale yellow/tan gingham dress (size 16) a couple of weeks ago that covers my flubbers and feels absolutely divine and comfortable to wear (like jammies) and I wear it every second day.  More if I can wash it while we are on the road.  I was walking down the street in Bordertown (birth place of Bob Hawke) on an incredibly windy day with electrical storms and gales lashing South Australia and Western Victoria and the streets were nearly empty.  That magical day though, I had two women go out of their way to tell me I looked fantastic.  

SO WHY AM I POUTING!  I pontificate ad nauseum about self-love and body positivity.  I am actually healthier than I have been in a while and kicked some seriously unhealthy eating (or not eating) and drinking (binge-styles to white girl wasted town centre) tendancies.  My beautiful wife Damon ADORES me and sits for uncomfortably long periods staring at me with a silly contented love-struck puppy grin, then tilts his head and says something sweet, sincere and complimentary.  Several times a day I absorb this adoration.  He’s too fucking good for me I can tell you that for free.  But oof I am so grateful he sticks around in the good times and the bad.

I am crying while I write this.  I am crying because I have no right to be derailed by something as shallow and dangerous as appearance.  My magical silver hairs and journey toward becoming the chrone I have always wanted to be does not cause me any sadness or concern.  I guess my wrinkles and moles annoy me a little so I may get around to having some things lifted and removed one day, but it is nothing I give too much thought.  So what the fuck is the issue with weight.

Perhaps it is that this is something well within my control.  I have the time, resources and knowledge to spend more time at the gym or the pool and eat better food that will nourish me, instead of choosing cheese and chips.  

There are so many resources and shining examples of body positivity for women.  Pamela Anderson (former sex kitten from Baywatch) hits the red carpet without make-up.  Nepal’s Miss Universe finalist is a plus sized goddess with a truckload of trauma she bravely embraces and shares to help other women shine.  

The world is gripped by war and chaos and I am consumed with sadness because I am carrying a few extra pounds.  WTF kind of vapid monster am I!!!

Writing this down hasn’t done much to ease the self-loathing I am luxuriating in.

Perhaps the only thing I want to achieve by sharing this stupid, stupid struggle is to document it.

Who knows how long I have, or any of us have on this planet.  Who knows what will happen to our cushy or challenging lives in the weeks months and years ahead.

There are real, huge, and pressing issues happening right now on geopolitical, social, spiritual, environmental and economic fronts and I am stuck in a seriously debilitating funk because my belly is wobbly.  How in the name of everything I hold dear can I be so vapid and boring and crass?

I’ve been trying to unpack it for weeks.  Months.  

While I feel no closer to an epiphany I can honestly say I feel a bit lighter (pun fully intended) writing it down.  I know I am a messy, complicated, broken-hearted hypocrite at times.  But there are things about me that are pretty magical and wonderful too.  I know I have control not only over what I put in my mouth and how much I move and exercise, but somehow there’s a comfort to the wallowing and lack of confidence that comes from feeling the way I do right now.  

I seriously gotta let this bullshit go though.

Working on it.

Thanks for reading.