Tag: mental health

Mothers Like No Others

Yesterday was just incredibly unpleasant in Auckland. An epic deluge of rain from another of those atmospheric rivers blew through the city and Northland. 

Leaks in my home wept. This reminded me of the huge amount of work we have ahead of us breathing new life into this nearly century old building. Not many people would be keen to take on such a mammoth task, but we have a great team, and our designers are well across it and good design saves so much cost and confusion down the line.

Relevant colloquialisms = a stitch in time saves nine, an ounce of prevention saves a pound of cure. There’s more, but we have an incredible design and architecture team, flanked by loyal (albeit quirky) building and implementation team. Very blessed and always a little bit stressed at this stage of our evolution. 

I would not trade a single thing about the complete chaos and incredible amount of effort and meaning my life has right now. But fuck me. There’s always a lot going on.

What else went haywire? Oh yes, we were late (a whole 6 minutes) dropping son to school as it was a swamp on the motorway and we also missed our exit.

The scales in the morning tipped in at 77kg which is 20kgs more than I ought to weigh apparently. Pfft. Whatever. 

Just a bit of a clusterfuck all around really.

Yet, somehow it was a lovely, productive, beautiful day. 

We’ve been getting a lot of invites to a lot of things lately. My answer to almost everything is still a big, clear, booming and beautiful NO.

Damon will be going to a couple of things with my son Daniel as he is a grown up now.

So yes, yesterday ought to have been quite awful, yet it absolutely was not.

My beyond doting darling Damon was perfect portions of annoyed and delighted with various projects, implementation and plans. I ran errands successfully and got well over 15k steps and went to Pilates. I hate pilates. I hate all exercise that isn’t walking through the woods/forest/mountains or skiing. But doing stuff I hate makes my amygdala stronger according to my 20 year old geektastic Daniel son.

The most important thing that happened? My friend rang me to tell me she was impressed by my parenting. 

I was at Costco beating the crowds at 10am on a Tuesday to grab cheese and bulk lunchbox snacks. She called, and her tone of earnest triggered the abused/gaslit/neglected Dee I used to be and I thought she was ringing to scold me.

My broken brain, even after 6 years of healing, recovery and unmedicated and unmitigated safety and freedom assumed I was in trouble. 

Here is a screenshot that kinda describes the level of me I get to be since turning my back on most of my life some years ago now:

Today I am me. Me does not give a single fuck what most people think about the me that I am. I don’t talk shit about other people (except my ex and my trashy persona non grata biological disaster zone that were once considered family). There’s not really time to judge other people or be concerned with what anyone else is doing, unless they make me aware or want or need time from me. I will make time for most people if they ask still. But most people do not and that’s cool.

The serious lack of interest in what other people think of or say about me did not seem possible when I was stuck in the glittery but shitty life I used to lead. Old me was addicted to validation, now I crave connection and meaning.

If someone does not like me? Good.

I like me.

TBH, I am a fucking delight.

So… Yeah.

Nope. Not in trouble. She took the time to tell me what a joy it was to see me parent and how great our rapport as mother and son is.

I cannot begin to tell you what that means to someone who was gaslit, abused, and wrongly accused of being a poor parent and crazy person. 

Me 10 years ago could not imagine the safety and balance that comes from practicing the actual zero tolerance for fuckery I am able to maintain through most of my life. It is standard operating procedure to be authentic and imperfect, and I have the bandwidth to engage with the very small number of people (which included family) I allow in my space. 

Want to make more time to see more people who I do indeed Love. But this will happen when it happens.

I have four friends who I speak to almost every day.

That’s all I can handle.

That is enough and they get the benefit and burden of being in my inner circle. 

So.

I popped round for a very uplifting visit with one of the favoured four the night before. Went straight to see her after picking up my son from the North Shore. 

We laughed and chatted and Jamie joined us to protest and complain he was bored. He’s 11, it is his job to be bored and boredom is a gift denied most children these days.

We were the last generation (Gen X) to grow up entertaining ourselves in nature and being bored. 

Sigh.

So he joined our conversation and we had long chats about the Persephone project which he has been hearing about in some form his whole life. I asked what he thought Persephone was gearing up to do. He thought it was rescuing women who were like me when I was sad and broken.

Reasonable assumption indeed. 

But nope. My friend and I both chimed in and said there is nothing ambulance at the bottom of the cliff, nor triage, nor rescuing, nor sheltering women. Persephone will uplift and encourage, not rescue.

Semantics are everything. We explained semantics and how saying the same (relative) thing with different words could change everything about how the message is recieved.

This budding legacy project is all about supporting and uplifting women who have already done enough work to be safe and strong, and need a push to get to the next level in a world that has made it hard for women to get ahead. 

No rescuing. 

We rescued ourselves. 

Just recognising, supporting, acknowledging, investing in, and encouraging goddesses in meaningful ways.

So when she called, and her voice sounded serious, I thought she was gonna maybe scold me for using the cunt word as liberally as I had in conversations with her incredible daughter (who I adore and am so proud of). 

I cannot tell you in hindsight how ridiculous this assumption was, or how sad I am at my brain for thinking that everyone is gonna sucker punch me, scold me, lie to me, or give me shit any time I pick up a phone call. 

Our conversations with her 19 year old delight of a daughter were scintillating. She’s doing an intense biomed degree and we talked about brains and pathways and all sorts of interesting things she learned that day.

Full disclosure, this friend is a super mom. Kind, funny, warm, supportive and so much more engaged with the meaningful journey of being a mom than I ever was. She’s just dreamy and I am in awe of her most of the time.

However, this particular friend never uses the words cunt or bitch, and she hasn’t for a long time. It is one of her many unique and beautiful ways of celebrating women and flexing her feminist activist muscle. No derogatory phrases pertaining to female anything. 

I, on the other hand LOVE the cunt word. It is my favourite on so many levels and for so many reasons.

Using it as liberally as I do is how I practice my own method of worshiping women. It is a divisive word about a powerful, beautiful and magical thing that I am glad to be in possession of.

This is not a secret. I can put my sprinkling of c word and scrappy language to the side when I need to, but I never feel the need to when it is her and I. We’ve been great friends for a long time now.

So yeah.

Healing and happiness don’t mean the cPTSD part of you doesn’t revert to fear and fight or flight thinking even when you are safe and know you are safe. 

I say no to almost everything and only do things that I simply know I must or that bring me actual joy.

Damon and I also finally got around to getting our nails done yesterday. The technicians at the nail place know us really well at this point. We aim to visit the salon when it is quiet (which is rare) and we sometimes give gifts from the farm. 

Everyone is so kind and warm to us there. And they’re curious about us as we travel so much and have a lot of kids who come along from time to time to get their nails done.

My nail tech had even more questions than usual yesterday.

We covered the fact I am a witch, and I clearly like to be barefoot. she could tell from the state of my heels you see. I also explained that I avoid humans as much as I can and that is why I am so happy traveling to places where nobody knows me, nobody cares who I am and I can just smile at strangers and live my life and learn things to apply to our farm and other projects. 

A lovely woman named Barbara from Waimate (deep south) overheard our conversations. She laughed long and hearty through our chats, and said she fully understands my desire to disappear most of the time. 

I was too kind, and too accessible for far too long. I used up all my fucks begging to be seen and validated and failing to feel better from either of these things.

Now, I just relish my own company. Validation is not required, human contact is kept surface level and safe, but I still hold space for offering support and advice because I can do this without putting myself at any risk of burn out theses days. Boundaries are strong and beauty and magic are everywhere most of the time.

I still get triggered. I still struggle with deep sadness. I still feel angry and scared a lot of the time.

But brains do learn to seek and find joy and feel safe. 

If the feelings of anxiety and frustration are invited to run their course, and gratitude and wonder are nurtured in healthy green light relationships… brains and hearts do heal.

Yesterday was indeed a gift, and I just wanted to share a few snippets of it with you.

Thanks for reading. 

Toiled Delightfully Through Tuesday

Bright Sides Glimmering Everywhere – Despite or Perhaps Because of My Raging ADHD?

So I have been known to create my own crisis/tension from time to time as this state is where my neuro-divergent self seriously gets shining…

Think I will start by saying thanks to you Wickedly Wonderful Witches who slipped into my DMs today.  And the lovely, patient women who keep in contact through the years on social media or IRL. My Coven really delivered some serious safe and magical vibes as I bopped around the city not doing the things I ought to be doing.

Today was a Tuesday.  

Day started a bit wobbly… I am feeling like an asshole because I am overdue for uploading/sharing the top ten for the photo comp I ran (rather successfully might I add!) in April.

I am so bad at deadlines.  So. Fucking. Unbelievably bad.  

HOWEVER…

Avoiding doing things I ought to be doing has always been a magical wonderland where I am a fucking weapon at doing other, unrelated tasks.  

Today I was a machine.  

Arranged house-sitting and childcare situation for the month of November.  The cat and our house are going to be absolutely pampered while Damon and I are pinching ourselves hiking through the Himalayas in the private and mysterious Kingdom of Bhutan. 

Op-shopped up a storm and scored a bunch of bargains at the Habitat for Humanity store in Wairau.  I picked up a proper (slightly scuffed but fit a treat) pair of Christian Loubouton sparkly heels.  I will likely never own another pair, and these were a proper Cinderella moment.  Ridiculous amount of money, but I am frugal as fuck with the shoe situation most of the time, and the money goes to a charity I actually admire, so… WINNING!  

I also found a delightful designer bag for one of my besties who just got a new job and needs to slay all day while she is well on her way.  

I’ve also been manifesting the perfect rain jacket and asking the Oracle to help me find this elusive item.  Today, she delivered and I got a shiny/sparkly deep red rain jacket that fit me beautifully for a cool $20.  I am gonna wear the absolute SHIT out of this jacket.  It is perfect.

Surprise! It’s Red…

Long luxurious chats with a few of my fave goddesses about serious witchy life stuff on the DMs all day.  It’s all proper private chatham house rules topics so I won’t share cause it’s none-o-yo-b’ness… suffice to say the synchronicity between us was and is kinda exquisite.  I don’t have many friends at this stage of my journey, but I sure do Love and appreciate the handful that have held on and proven they are trustworthy and true.  

Also went in to renew Registration on our teeny tiny city sized i3.  That’s an electric car for those who don’t recognise the term i3.  Her name is D33M0N – which is of course my name and my wife’s name squished together.  DEE and daMON –  and it’s also the name of our growing and UNBELIEVABLY fun and rewarding company.  Gonna be a hot minute before the place is humming along in profitability zone without us, but it is an absolute joy most of the time.  Wish everyone could Love their job as much as we do the farm and the eco-retreat. There would be no war, no crime, everyone would just be chill hanging with their chickens and listening to the bananas grow.  Or whatever version of that fills them with as much joy as our tiny slice of paradise brings us and our team.

Paid the RUC’s (Road User Charges) for both D33M0N and LOLGAS.  $743 for 10,000km for those who were wondering what the chargers are.  I do not mind paying road user charges but I do vehemently resent paying the same amount as planet fucking, particulate matter spewing diesel disasters are charged.  That is some serious bullshit right there, and exactly the kind of inane and completely ill-advised bollocks I have come to expect from our current cluster fuck of a political administration.  Truly confounding.  

Ordered three cheapo pairs of spectacles from Oscar Wylee (3 pairs $300… the rate at which I lose glasses I cannot justify spending more).

Got call from school nurse Steph’s still not feeling great and today was her fourth day off school.  The school nurse was a sweetheart and agreed Princess Stephanie needs another day to rest tomorrow.  This feels pretty okay considering she’s got most of the years required credits (with excellence) and is already applying for universities here, in Australia and Canada.

Organised THREE belated birthday dinners out this week and next.  Have also committed to doing some weird early morning exercise situation in Matakana with Sarah on Monday morning first thing.  Oracle preserve me I am a little scared!

Shopped for groceries, popped dinner on (roast chicken marinated overnight in oat milk and herbs and spices, highly HIGHLY recommend this recipe… so tender!), video call with the chair of my trust (an elusive but utterly divine goddess… sadly our paths won’t cross now until July as we are all so freaking busy!) 

Fed kids, admired our array of happy healthy pot plants (I never had a tidy, safe, calm home or pot plants ever in my life until I moved in with my domestic goddess wife), and was curled up in my jammies by 6:30pm.

AND THEN…

I wrote this blog.

Had no idea what an incredibly busy (and actually painfully expensive thanks to licensing and registration fees) and pleasantly productive day I had until I started writing.

Damon in his super cool 90s sweater

And how utterly blessed I feel to be surrounded by a safe, warm, calm environment.  My joy tonight was bubbling over as I chatted with happy, funny, open, and grateful kids.  Gosh they are far more settled and self-refelctive than I was at their ages.  Perhaps even more than I am now.  

Then came the obligatory pats for our needy three-legged rescue cat.  His name is Benedict Cumbercat and he is actually a total asshole but we adore him.  Tonight also saw me swept up in a moment where I very nearly wept with joy surveying our warm tidy living room full of healthy pot plants and witchy herbs thriving in their eclectic pots I have collected through op-shopping expeditions.

My delight dill!!!
In bed by 6:30 ftw 🙌

Not even a fraction of these rather wonderful things would have happened today if I wasn’t well and truly tied up in absolute knots about my earth day photo competition dilemma.  I must honour those who entered and share the finalists.  And I will.  And it will feel pretty good I hope.

But, for now, I’m just going to tuck in my ten year old and then slip off into a peaceful slumber thinking about all the big and little things that made today rather magical.

Just Keen to be Kinda Grouchy – It’s Tradition

Birthdays are definitely not my fave. Well, mine is not. Other people who like their birthday are pretty cute and it is lovely to see people happy, as joy is fleeting for all of us. Glimmers of hope and contentedness are really important and I eat them up whenever they present themselves. My birthday though. Just ick.

My poor, lovely, dedicated, doting, adoring, beautiful wife Damon is confused and uncomfortable watching me do my annual dance of moody mumbling and feeling angry and sorry for myself on the 28th of April.

Last year we got stuck in a fierce storm with sideways rain and huge gusts of wind on a four hour walk in a national park in Tasmania. That whole scene suited my mood and being out in the forest with wombats and wild weather was actually really great.

Getting older is also something I consider quite fantastic. The number of fucks given about what people think of me or do with their own lives is pretty minimal. I still have the time, energy and inclination to champion and cheer for brave, lovely, wonderful humans I am lucky enough to have crossed paths with. Generally though, I really prefer to be left the fuck alone the majority of the time. People are lovely, but complicated and difficult and I don’t understand most people or what they do or why they do it.

So moving into this my 46th year, I am poised on the precipice of some pretty major decisions that are being made without my input, guidance or approval. That’s probably the case for most humans in the Western world. SO much shit is just completely out of our control. That means it is important and empowering to own and manage the shit we do have control over.

For me, it is to whom and how I devote time and energy. Turns out, I really like seeing people evolve and be brave and feel empowered. I also like getting the fuck out of their way and letting them shine. This year, I particularly like giving people money or opportunities for doing brave and creative stuff. That manifests in art or endeavours we purchase, fund, pay for or commission. It has also culminated in creative competitions we fund, projects and improvements on the farm and doing our level best to be fair and reasonable with our contractors and employees, and any range of anonymous support we give to friends and strangers as we meander through our lives. I can’t fix the world, but I can encourage people to be brave enough to fly or fail and cheer them on and hold them gently when they get the wobbles while they are in my orbit.

I have also learned, the hard way, that trying to help or sticking my neck out can backfire spectacularly and it is not my job to make people be better or kinder and I cannot rescue anyone. People have to rescue themselves. I can be supportive and gentle in people’s most vulnerable moments if I am in their orbit, and it is an honour and privilege to try to be that softness in a very tough world to some people at some points. But, it’s forever nagging at me in moments of kindness and vulnerability that I’ve been the bitten hand that feeds far too many horrible humans. So, mostly I try my best and keep myself to myself and that’s working out pretty well.

I like me. I am funny, loyal, adventurous, encouraging and try to be honest with myself and others. And generally, I do my level best to not be a nasty, evil, opportunistic or greedy piece of shit in a world where horribleness seems to be thriving. The world makes me sad and tired a lot. But there’s also so much magic and mayhem and wonder and I am here for all of that. But I need long and luxurious periods without having to deal with people because people have been plenty awful in my experience, and I don’t have the bandwidth to fuck around and find out anymore.

So today, all I care to do is meander around the city of Sydney, as this is where we chose to come to hide away as tourists for my 46th birthday.

Also, today we have chosen three more spot prizes for the creative content competition we launched at the beginning of April. Honouring the submissions and sharing the top ten is something that is turning out to be a mountain of work, and it is yet to be determined if it is a worthy endeavour that we intend to grow/continue next year.

I need to launch and protect my plans for the Persephone Foundation, which will be a fully self-funded attempt to empower and encourage women to sparkle and Love themselves through this crazy fucked up ride that is life. Not a charity, but a legacy. And a continuation of work I have been doing and flying or failing at for as long as I can remember. I have a compulsion to help. But the need for self preservation can make helping a complicated and harrowing proposition at times – well at least for me.

Who knows how many more turns around the sun any of us have left? Indeed who even knows what tomorrow has in store for us as individuals or humanity in general! I am tired just thinking about all the things that are wrong with me and the world right now, but absolutely amped to be alive and living, breathing, laughing, crying, failing, trying, traveling, eating, meeting and just all the magical and mundane things that make up my incredible life. Therein lies the great paradox of my existence presently – which may partly explain my fascination with the Greek Goddess Persephone. Dragged to the underworld by her overly enthusiastic Uncle Hades, Persephone lived both between the underworld and the light as the Goddess of Harvest and Fertility. Half the time she lived in light and abundance, the rest of the time she spent with the dead. Somehow she made both these existences work for her and ended up being greatly loved and appreciated within the Greek Mytholical canon. Quite a paradoxical figure indeed.

I’m not actually comparing myself with Persephone, but I can relate. Indeed so many times, including 8 years ago, and then again 6 years ago on this exact day, my only wish was to disappear in very real and permanent terms. I smiled through incredible and relentless pain and suffering and lived a life posting highlight reels and great pictures of my completely fucking broken damned self. I was openly and readily available to be thrown under any bus and exploited by any opportunistic piece of shit who crossed my path. Seeing the best in everyone and desperately seeking validation broke me and I’ll never feel safe or trust anyone the way I once did after being kicked so many times when I was down.

But I got back up. And I hope the same for everyone and anyone else. Not just people I like, I seriously wish growth and greatness for people who have pissed me off. Just need the to be a safe and considerable distance from me and my safe and happy life while they learn their lessons and grow into better people. Nobody gets a second chance to truly piss me off. But I don’t wish anyone harm and I’ll never engage in revenge or enjoy another person’s suffering. Wait… sometimes when karma hits someone who has been a proper piece of shit, it does feel pretty okay from a safe distance to see that all happen. Nothing too nasty though.

Today, I am just so grateful to be free from the relentless sadness of trying my best to protect and please a pack of truly awful people who ought to have appreciated and protected me. Today toxic people and situations are kicked to the curb and not many people have access to me and that has allowed me to feel safe and empowered. I don’t know where you are while you read this, but if you are good, keep that shit up. If you are struggling, keep going. I don’t know much, but I do know that everything, even incredible pain does end, and being on the other side of suffering, whatever the cause, is a bittersweet but brilliant peace. I wish you peace and glimmers of hope and joy today and every day. And I wish the same for my imperfect but optimistic and ageing self. And like Persephone, whether you feel you are in a cycle of being in the underworld or the light – may you make that work and take what you need to be the best version of you you can be.

Thanks for reading.

If Pain is a Gift, Today I am Blessed

On Friday last week I stayed in bed most of the day after my social battery went totally flat after we attended a beautiful send off for Damon’s uncle David at the glorious goddess Auntie Ingrid’s home.  I am a big fan of Auntie Ingrid and had a lovely time laughing with Damon’s niece, his delightful dad, and some friends and neighbours as well.  Also got to catch up with Cousin Emma who is here from Boston, and of course my irrepressible and decidedly delightful mother in law Pamela.  Her brother David completely changed the face of the music and broadcasting industries in Aotearoa, and he was much loved and well-respected pain in the ass according to the speeches and songs shared in his honour.  A giant of a man in stature, charisma, and his indominable legacy.  

So my beautiful wife Damon and I snuggled in and had a quiet day on Friday.  I decided at some point to make myself some baked beans with melted cheese on top.  A fateful decision that would have deep and disastrous consequences.

Those scolding hot beans and the molten cheese attached themselves to the roof of my mouth and seared and sizzled and burned and bubbled.  I knew I’d fucked up immediately.  Burns are an insidious suffering and the echo of thousands of heat-related injuries flooded through my accident prone body and nervous system in a flash while this latest dipshittery occurred.

It is now a week later.  I am unable to talk or eat without pain.  A trip to the dentist confirmed the extreme nature of my injury and sprays, gargles and pain killers are keeping the pain dull enough that I can read my wonderful Barbara Kingsolver novel “Unsheltered” and pause now to write this quickfire blog. 

My life is certainly not terrible.  

When shit goes wrong, as it sometimes (often) does, I am reminded just how not terrible things are as terrible things kinda waft through my consciousness and concrete reality.  

Consciousness and concrete reality are really such small parts of the magic that is existence, but we place a great deal of focus on them.  Most states pass.  Joy and euphoria come and go, as do grief and despair, pain and pleasure.  It all wafts through and it is such a fucking incredible gift to experience it from a place where I know there is hope – after living a powerless and hopeless existence for such an incredibly long time. 

I am not powerless.  I am filled with hope.  Even bad days feel like a gift as somehow, now, that I have called back my life and my boundaries to my own self.  Lately, I am good even when things are not going great.

It’s so fucking weird and awesome.  

As is customary, Damon and I have been continuing to toil away at things we both Love, and also… manage to keep our shit together (just) when dealing with truly vile and disgusting people.  These vile creatures serve very little purpose on this planet, aside from reminding sensible/kind/curious/creative people how not to be boring, cowardly and disappointing cunts.  

The world needs these horid, boring, angry, annoying people.  The deepest frustration I have observed with them, however, is that they claw and con their way to positions of some level of power despite generally never having done anything interesting or useful.  This old boys club continues to be filled with cowards and cretins and it continues to protect itself despite clearly competent aspects of society (women, minorities, thinkers, creatives, truly competent and charismatic leaders, and even kindness in general) proving to be far better and more fun for everyone and everything involved.

Days like today remind me just how glad I am to have picked a side and sticking to it though.  I choose the planet, nature, community, tolerance, creativity, art, hope, and magic.  I do not choose, seek or condone ignorance, hate, greed, fascism or privilege.  All that nasty shit is just getting way too mainstream for my liking these days, and I will stay in my lane and actively condemn it until the last breath leaves my beautiful little body.

So, having inflicted a reasonably serious injury on myself, I just have to calmly manage the pain and let it heal.  I was not stressed out, or under the influence of any drugs or alcohol, or in any sort of hurry at all.  I just made a really poor decision and a week later I am rendered rather helpless.  Still able to function, more-or-less.  Had a typically perfect catch up with my darling low-drama-llama goddess Mel and her sparkling beam of light daughter.  And have had some b’ness meetings and strategy sessions and done a wee whisp of creative work this week as well.  But through it all there is a pain that ranges from dull and controlled by the codeine to seering and excruciating.

I don’t hate it.

Suspect that the reason why I do not hate it, despite pain being genuinely unfun, there’s a comfort associated with a small but notable injury.  This that goes beyond the fact I know it will heal and I will relish feeling fit and healthy even more after going through the motions of this recovery.  I feel grateful it was not a bigger or different injury and am more grateful for the bits of me that are working and the vessel that carries me being in reasonable order most of the time.

When I was young and living through a traumatic and hellish childhood/puberty there was plenty of self-harm and poor decisions leading to injury.  Now that I am safe and removed from toxic and abusive people… well, most of them… Even pain is not what it was when things were the way they were before.  Now I’ve successfully built boundaries and started to design a safe, private, simple and very satisfying life.  I have nothing to prove and don’t need anything from any fucker these days.  

Still, I relish honest and creative collaboration and connection with a community.  I thrive in situations with perfectly imperfect people doing their best and giving an actual authentic fuck about themselves and making the world bearable for themselves and others.  Community and connection for creation not self-interest. It’s its own kind of magic.

My friends have checked in and chided at me for what is clearly on brand – if something is worth doing it is worth OVER-doing.  My beautiful wife Damon has carried on important work at the farm and rushed home to nurse me in my invalid state.  Not that he can do much.  Poor thing.  He wants so much to be helpful.  I can’t eat and talking is a chore too, so he feels a bit helpless, but his presence is calming and there’s a tenderness that is so incredibly pure when one of a couple of lovebirds is injured or unwell.  

Nurse pickles (we are dog sitting) is very concerned and helpful during my recovery ❤️‍🩹

I guess, all I am saying, is that I feel awful, and that’s somehow making me feel decidedly blessed and it is wonderful.

My mouth will heal.  My friends are divine.  My kids are all on different and fascinating paths right now and I am so stressed out by and utterly proud of each and every one of them.  And I am safe.  I am safe from gaslighting, cruelty, or scary social climbing con-artists.  I am surrounded by people who are their authentic selves and perfectly imperfect in safe and interesting ways.  Feeling shitty never felt so good.

Have a great long weekend everyone.  

Much Love and thank you for reading.

Not A Secret

The Internet is full of clickbait lists and “hacks” to help humans who are busy chasing dopamine while the proclivity to happiness evades them.

Happiness still often evades me. I feel pretty sad and powerless a reasonable amount of the time, but that’s really not a huge problem imho. That’s the condition we are all in.

I can, however, say with confidence that this stage of my life is by far the happiest and most peaceful I have had the pleasure of living through.  A lot of terrific and terrible things have happened to, and because of my-silly-little-learning-self and my choices and the chances I have been given or made.

Feeling decidedly comfortable being home but absolutely champing at the bit to keep moving and planning and researching to decide what the future looks like for us.  My trauma left me in a pretty constant state of flight or fawn and I don’t feel like fawning or placating anyone anymore, so fly I must.  I will always touch down long enough to check in with some of my special people.  Never really know what that looks like or how long it will be between connecting.  And that’s okay.

We returned to Aotearoa from Japan last week and the beautiful home we rent is clean, the bags are unpacked, and everyone in the family is doing things they need to or make them happy.  Jamie is tucked up in bed after a huge day out running errands together. Steph is at work, Daniel is recovering from some kind of man-flu (not covid), River is hanging with his cousins and friends, Damon is visiting his daughter and having a swim in the warm summer ocean over on the shore.  And my asshole cat is in the yard being an asshole and soon he will thump loudly down the hall with his three legs and jump into bed and fall asleep next to me.  

The farm (our newest and my personally most rewarding venture) has been well-managed with three lovely capable witchy women employed to manage turn overs and ensure guests are greeted with clean sheets and enough marshmallows to roast on a crackling fire.  I am very pleased and very proud of the people who manage and contribute to that growing venture, and reminded that I am not capable nor interested in overly ambitious projects or any level of HR.  People are beautiful and complicated and generally and genuinely I don’t understand them.

Nor, do I care to.  I am not here to understand people.  I thought perhaps I was at one time.  And then, I tried very hard to connect and consider people and their motivations and meaning every chance I had.  That ended disastrously.  

I think, perhaps, I am here to live the next part of my life in peace and occasionally write something down that someone somewhere might find useful, comforting or perhaps confronting enough to consider change if change is called for.  Not my place to say or assume.  

Maybe, though, really all I need to do, is just be.  And of course, as I hope will be printed on my epitaph if I am given one… try in earnest not to be a cunt.

I do not have a any particuilar secrets to share on how any other person can get to the comfortable state of not giving a fuck, yet still feeling genuinely grateful and engaged.  I know that my own road to this place was fucked right up in innumerable ways, and if I were given the choice to make the same choices all again I am not certain which ones I would change.

But I can offer you some observations.  I’ll even make a list:

  1. True Love means trial, error, gratitude and actually being with someone who cares as much if not more about your happiness than their own and vice versa; I don’t know that any of us are guaranteed this opportunity.  Nothing ventured nothing gained
  2. You are already a miracle

Regardless of your spiritual or scientific leanings, the likelihood of you being here is incomprehensibly small, it is worth reminding yourself of that in both the good and bad bits.

  • Gratitude is like a fertile chestnut that will grow into a mighty oak

A thank you goes a long, long way.  Withholding or denying yourself or others genuine gratitude does not go un-noticed.  The amazing thing about gratitude, like kindness, is that it doesn’t actually cost you anything to share or honour, yet will pay off in multiples.

  • If you care to have good friends be one – be the friend you most need for yourself!
  • Everything and nothing actually matters – Butterfly effect, physics, spirituality… cause and effect.  Everything we do affects and effects things we see and do not see.  Yet the infiniteness of the cosmos kinda embraces and swallows us all up, no matter what we do.  So drop pebbles of kindness and curiosity into the pond of the infinite universe and let those beautiful ripples radiate.  No need to risk actively engaging with negative, destructive or ingnorant ripples.  Nope nope nope.  I reckon there’s some serious consequences for actively engaging in badness, even if I have no way of quantifying or confirming it, it feels really real.
  • Laugh – don’t underestimate the power of a whole being belly laugh to move things around.
  • Ask questions – you know the saying, you won’t know if you don’t ask
  • Do it – sometimes it’s best to act first and think later – but check your gut first on this one
  • Say it, someone else is probably holding the same thought or question and will appreciate your having the courage to speak their thoughts
  • No is a full sentence that shouldn’t need any explanation
  • You can’t necessarily control anything but how you handle things after the fact will be what people most remember, you will never truly know the power of your reactions… see number 5 it’s kinda vibe-ing on the same frequency as this observation 
  • Be kind to yourself – yes I struggle with this one too but at least try to notice also even the small kindnesses you may pay to yourself
  • No need to be kind to everyone but avoid being an asshole (don’t be a cunt)

I ended on that note because it is the mantra that is cross-stitched and framed in our guest bathroom.  A very confronting and divisive word, but powerful.  Also ended on the 13th point cause it is a pretty great number in my opinion.  

Thanks for reading.  Have a lovely rest of the week.

XXOO

Own Your Own Joy

Joy is great.  Sometimes it eludes us as we overthink it or we put far too much pressure on ourselves and others around our expectations and the pursuit of joy.  Simple joys and lifelong passions are born and built when we don’t overthink things or try to be who we are not I feel.

We all react differently to different things. Some people love a good roller coaster some people would consider it torture. Damon loves the beach and could spend all day there, while I love a swim but the annoyance of sand everywhere after a frolic in the waves means I avoid the beach and tend to opt for forest bathing instead. My daughter loves crafting and crocheting while paying attention to painstakingly detailed patterns. The idea of following instructions for fun is laughable to me. Laughable, actually even thinking about it kinda stresses me out. Equally annoyed/stressed by sodoku, lists, or re-organising a linen cupboard. All of which are things that I know for a FACT bring people I know and Love joy. Weirdos. Just saying.

The point I am trying to make is that we are all unique beings.  My idea of heaven on earth and the happiest place I can think of is actually a Star Trek cruise.  Surrounded by fun, quirky, kind, and often traumatized (through bullying and harrowing life experiences) neuro diverse people like me.  It is the only week on earth I feel genuinely free to be myself without judgement and find almost everyone else on the ship fascinating and fabulous.  A Star Trek convention would probably be perceived as punishment to many of my neuro typical friends.

Finding what sparks our joy doesn’t have to be an exhaustive search.  Really embracing things that excites you, despite whether or not other people think it is cool or worthwhile is a step toward holistically living your best life.  If you like plants and gardening, every time you engage in these activities or actively seek communities who share your passion is building you a narrative and creating a community for you to find and feel joy and belonging.  

Conversely, if you are forever finding reasons not to pursue and embrace the things that you actually like, because you are too busy doing the things you think you should, your soul starts to shrivel up like a prune.  You don’t need to be a prune you are way better off being shiny and sparkly and satisfied instead of trudging through daily grinds doing things because you think you should, rather than enjoying the magic you could if you got really brave and honest.  

Today’s blog I am gonna give us both some homework.  Pop on a timer and brain storm a list of things that actually spark joy in you and write down as many as you can think of in two minutes.

Ready… steady… GO!  

Here’s my list:

  • My asshole cat with three legs who never catches any birds and I worship even though he is… well, an asshole. His beautiful sweet tabby brother brings me joy too.
  • Geeking out over soil health, EV, and clean tech advances and finding amazing plants and animals thriving on the farm where we are blessed to be Kaitiaki
  • Having a good sweary rant with my goddesses about the state of the world. We talk about ideas and plan world domination rather than get weighed down just gossiping about boring people and talking about boring things
  • Nature … just a huge fan of soil and birdsong and this week I am OBSESSED with the baby bananas we have planted.
  • NOT dealing with emotional/social/general vampires
  • Alone time with the spunky monk
  • WRITING
  • Hiding from society for days on end and turning off all my devices and embracing a digital detox
  • Memes that Jane/Debs/Ben and others post. So good.
Benedict Cumbercat and his doting mamma (me)

Kay that was a little over two minutes… But actively writing down a few things that fill me with joy was helpful as a kinda gratitude journal exercise, but also has me thinking about hundreds of other little things that bring me huge joy.  Laughing in the kitchen with the kids.  Deep chats with Stephanie and feeling so proud of the fierce and funny goddess she is.  Hugs.  Oof I do LOVE hugs, only from my inner circle though clearly.  

So the next step on this homework assignment for both of us is this.

Just make sure you engage in something that brings you joy.  I’ve already patted my asshole cat, am currently writing, and have actively shut down an interaction with a dipshit dunning krugered up dork who thinks he’s far cooler than he actually is.  Feels good to walk away from dipshits.  I know not everyone can, and we all have to deal with some vampires in life.  I’ve also scrolled a little bit and lolled at some memes.  Tonight I will enjoy dinner at harbourside restaurant with my beloved future husband and spunky monk and keep my phone in my purse the whole time… unless I look fire… then all y’all are getting a cute pic on the Instagram cause sometimes that sparks joy too.

So that’s the blog.

Hope you are sparkly today.

Thanks for reading.

Where’s Your Head At?

Woof. How you doing? We are on the home stretch toward the end of a rather harrowing year, so I thought I’d take minute to drop a few lines on the screen and check in with you.

My long suffering sweetheart and I hamming it up at dinner with the kids last week

School holidays was a lot for those of us who embarked on the dizzying and chaotic journey of parenthood. The uncertainty and pace of change has been tough for the kids, and different family cultures seem to be managing things very differently.

Our family choose laughter and a lot of somewhat nihilistic truth bombs. The kids and their friends are feeling the energy of precariousness and change as it is all around them. I won’t lie and tell them everything is going to be okay. Nobody knows what is next. The only thing we actually have any control over is how we choose to act and react to things. Reacting with grace and bravery seems to come quite naturally to these quirky kids though so that’s good. I don’t have many answers, and I suspect their parents and teachers are equally at a loss when it comes to offering helpful advice or guidance in these very strange times. All I can provide is a safe and consistent place for them to air their concerns, as we set aside our daily sacred journey to and from school where nobody has to be brave or stoic. We just jostle over who gets control of the playlist and everyone gets a turn to air things that may be of concern to them that day or in general. Laughter is our therapy on the school run, and it is a safe place for all of us and the soundtrack changes daily.

Driving the kids around in LOLGAS is a huge part of my life journey atm.

The Election. We voted over the weekend, and my only observation is probably: “What. The. Actual. Fuck.” My faith in democracy has been shaken an awful lot in recent months, but I am quietly optimistic that NZ is going to continue on a trajectory or hope and sustainability. We aren’t perfect, but my tribe and I feel absolutely blessed to be safe and sound here on these shaky but unquestionably safer-than-most-places-on-earth-right-now isles.

Has anyone else noticed there’s a plethora of divorce and separation hovering around in the world lately? This could well be an acute case of Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, as my own long-overdue divorce seems to be dragging on and on and the uncertainty is quite frankly paralysing. I am certainly not the first, won’t be the last to be on this journey. Hugs to anyone else floating around in the process or the aftermath.

Social anxiety. Not sure where you’re at as it seems some people have loved some seclusion and others have struggled with isolation and feelings of loneliness or being trapped in bad or joyless situations in their bubble. I carry a lot of mixed feelings as the pandemic gave me an opportunity to get off an incredibly painful roller-coaster of busyness and seeking validation. I Loved, trusted, and supported too many, too often, too easily, and too much and struggled with boundaries for years. My last breakdown came about the same time as Covid, and was the perfect opportunity to say: “Fuck this shit I’m out.” to the vast majority of, well, everything. It’s a privileged position indeed to have that option. The reality for far too many people all over the world is that they are incredibly vulnerable to the changes thrust upon us all. It’d be callous and crass of me to force my ideologies of seclusion, self-sufficiency and growth on anyone as not everyone is privy to the same options as me. To be quite frank that seems to be the problem. Inequality and struggles are not fairly distributed among us in this life. The conflict and conundrum of being comfortable, white-privileged, and socially conscientious is and was a constant internal battle. I’m not certain of many things, and don’t have any solid answers for myself, the kids, or anyone else, but I do strongly believe positions of privilege come with a responsibility to give a fuck about social and environmental issues. How any person goes about being the change they want to see in the world without being chewed up and spat out by opportunists and assholes is a bit of a mystery to me personally at this time. So in my safe bubble surrounded only by the very small tribe I allow near me is where I’ll be for the foreseeable future. Wherever you are I wish you joy and comfort and safety on your journey, especially if you are brave enough to be fighting the good fight and making yourself vulnerable in the process. And, if you are just hiding in your bathrobe putting on a few extra pounds and healing from a rough ride up until this point, that’s actually fine too. Be kind to yourself and surround yourself with kindness from others. We are all just trying to figure this shit out.

The media. Oof. The fucking media. It’s not what it was and we’re sent down some serious rabbit holes as we scroll through the abyss. There’s echo chambers and trolls and fake news OH MY! I implore you to turn it off from time to time, and take those you love offline as well. Our best option, whether we have chosen the red or the blue pill, is just to focus on what we can manage and being amazing in little and real ways by smiling at strangers, offering a kind word, checking in with someone, planting things, fixing things, or whatever it is that brings you joy, well, that’s our best hope now and was leading up to where we sit on this surreal timeline today. Be a good person. You know when you are, and it feels pretty good to honour that so get out there and feel free to get a little smug if you’re getting your grace on out there IRL.

There’s more I wanted to yarn with you about, but I am growing weary of waffling and I suspect my full-on train of thought style of blabbery jabber might be tiring you out a bit too after this collection of thoughts and tangents.

Wherever your head is at, be gentle with yourself. You’ve been through a lot. We all have. Kia Kaha.

Thank you for reading.