Apparently some people did not notice Monday’s full moon. I did, and it sucker punched me with a core human fear – of not belonging. Most likely this was exacerbated by my work-life situation. I am still in the never-ending process of transitioning fronting a non profit health advocacy agency to moonlighting as an advocate, often solo, on an ABN. Still pretending I am on a never-ending menopausal gap year where I don’t have to work too much when my bank balance tells me otherwise. Still attending meetings where I may be the only lived experience representative in a sea of clinicians, but with no colleagues on hand to debrief as I once had.
What helped me this week was listening to this episode of Tim Ferriss’s podcast, with Wade Davis talking about his long career as an activist. Not trying to win, just pushing the wheel of justice forward.
Fremantle’s One Day celebration last Saturday 28th of Jan was not the first time I had heard Thomas Mayo quote the Uluru Statement from the Heart verbatim. The first time was at the WA Council of Social Service conference in 2020 and it was just as moving and electrifying then. (It was in fact my favourite part of a very inspiring conference). If you have never read the Statement from the Heart in full, do so now. It takes five minutes. It is a little wee bit nicer hearing Thomas say it, but you will just have to imagine.
The Uluru Statement from the Heart was created in 2017 at the National Constitutional Convention. It calls for the establishment of a First Nations Voice to be enshrined in the Australian Constitution. Since 2017 there have been three Australian Prime Ministers. Two have rejected the Statement (Turnbull and Morrison).
The third, and current Anthony Albanese has committed to the Statement. A referendum will likely be held in the second half of 2023, closer to the end of the year. The referendum question currently proposed is:
Do you support an alteration to the Constitution that establishes an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice?
Check out www.fromtheheart.com.au for more details
So six years later, history is calling Australia. As Thomas stated, appealing to monarchs and politicians hasn’t worked. Any past attempts to enshrine a voice have either been rejected or supported temporarily then dismantled when a new government entered power. Enshrining this voice in our constitution is key to preventing this voice from being periodically silenced. And it has to come from us as a community.
I kept notes as I was listening and I reflected on what Thomas Mayo said last Saturday. Some key summary points that have really stuck with me. I have some trepidation as a clumsy ally wading in to the topic but this is important, so here goes:
A Voice is very much like a “Watchdog” – a body that will ensure that Recommendations and reforms are actually implemented. It is all about creating real change.
It needs to be in the Constitution so it can’t be removed at the whim and will of the government of the day.
Truth telling is very important AND it has been happening for a long time. Australians are not quite able to put their head in the sands as much as they used to. Many brave First Nations people have already told their stories in many different Inquiries and Royal Commissions etc. What is missing is political will to make the required changes. The key is implementation. (See point 1 again)
A Treaty is very important AND it takes a long time. Also treaties can be ignored, so we need a body that will ensure the work is carried out. (See point 1 again)
Yes we do have First Nations politicians in our states and in Canberra. But they will represent particular parties or issues or constituents. Australia needs First Nations voices across all the issues.
History called Australians in 1967 to change two troublesome (i.e. racist) clauses in our Constitution. One noted that there was always the option for “special and different” laws applying to our First Nations people. The second stated they didn’t actually count as Australians.
Primarily Referendums for changes to Australia’s Constitution can be fiendishly hard to win. Since 1906 there have been 44 of them, only 8 have been successful. Fortunately 90% of Australians voted yes in the 1967 Referendum. Even in 1967 we knew this had to change. Hopefully in 2023 we can again show that we know better and can do better.
As the Uluru Statement from the Heart concludes:
In 1967 we were counted, in 2017 we seek to be heard… We invite you to walk with us in a movement of the Australian people for a better future.
Uluru Statement From the Heart at www.fromtheheart.com.au
In the coming months there will be more opportunities to talk together, and I have somewhat intrepidly applied to host a Kitchen Table Conversation on the topic. When I find out more details and organise something, I will post it on my blog.
Yours, feeling (in the words of Brene Brown) awkward, a bit brave and I hope kind.
Another life experience I won’t be able to monetise
I have been digging back into my blogging archive, reviewing what I learned and forgot and remembered as far back as November 2013 when I was sure I wanted to start a business. All along, what I really wanted to do was come out as a writer. But somehow, that did not seem to be easily accommodated unless I quit my day job and upended my life. In the intervening decade I have self-published a memoir, spent seven years running a non-profit and then quit that job. I am still toiling away at book number two (deadline June 2023 or bust!) so have integrated working and writing. Sort of.
During 2014, I did a lot of online entrepreneur training. I mean A LOT. It got me thinking. It would be hard to track the data, but the attrition rate of online training must be absolutely staggering in terms of money spent versus actual knowledge gained. Once you have been suckered in by the marketing offering you quick fixes, (Six Figures in Six Weeks!) clicked the “Get instant access” button to buy the training, that is often the end of the relationship between you and the trainer. You may never even access or download one megabyte of information and no-one will ever contact you to ask you why and chase up your sick note. The actual transaction that is being offered is a often a sale, the temporary reduction in discomfort rather than the actual transfer of knowledge.
Plus, most online training is done by people who know lots about their subject but didley-squat about adult learning principles. I can’t count the number of hours I spent listening to and reading material, filling in enterable pdfs etc. How often my heart sank the knowledge the next audio to listen to was 1.5 hours and must be waded through to extract about 20 minutes of actual learning. Whose learning style is that working for exactly? Nobody’s I suspect – it is just the trainer wanting to share all their knowledge in a massive download that swamps but doesn’t necessarily help you to master a new skill. But to be fair, there is some excellent online training (here’s looking at you Marie Forleo) A finished online course where you have taken action on the course contents can be awesome. Perhaps online training is neither good nor bad, but procrastination makes it so.
I certainly gave online business training a red hot go. Like the myth of Spring I was Demeter, descending into the Hades of business training to reclaim my daughter Persephone to the surface and bring Spring back into the world. Down I went, following the trail of excellent marketing copy for the many training programs that promised me endless hacks and and end to all my business concerns at the end of a click. After an inordinately long time in Hades I eventually re-emerged with a somewhat peeved Persephone in tow who wondered when in the hell I was going to complete her release from the Underworld of online sales. I finally got it that there is no magic, quick fix. You need to let things unfold. And running a business may not actually be the right destiny.
During this time pretty much all the online business training talked about how you can turn your pain points into learning, and monetise it through developing courses (naturally). This hasn’t always been so obvious to me. I mean, could I potentially market the ninja romance move of finally stumbling across the right life-partner for me by buying the house opposite him? It doesn’t seem that transferable a lesson. Then there’s my life hack from 2021 when I broke the hypnosis of overwhelm by leaving my non-profit leadership role. Again, not something that sparks inspiration. It has also occurred to me that the world may actually have enough courses monetising pain points.
But are still room for more books. Books are different. So back to the writing I go. Right after I log on and look at that Book Tok course I bought last month…
Trigger warning – this post talks about crime, punishment, forgiveness and might stir up difficult emotions or memories. Please take care when reading.
Just after Christmas I read an article about a man called Abdi. He was deliberately run over by a woman while riding his bike in suburban Brisbane. He didn’t know her at all. This Shelley Anne Alabaster then pursued Abdi in her vehicle for a terrifying twenty minutes.
Abdi forgave her for many reasons and pleaded for clemency for her to be released from prison. She had already been on remand for over a year. She was not travelling well mentally or in her sobriety at the time. Abdi understands in his bones the vicious trap of the revenge and violence cycle from his birthplace of Mogadishu he had to leave behind.
“I don’t know if it is appropriate for me to say this,” Abdi says, “but in Australia they are obsessed with punishment. Crime and punishment.”
The article explores the topic more fully, saying ‘“Abdi understands the desire for retributive justice as innate to the human condition.
“It emotionally fulfils our need of feeling safe, when you have someone sent to jail on your behalf, or the state avenges on your behalf, it gives you this emotional satisfaction,” he says.
“But, at the end of the day, nothing has been achieved.”’
Abdi is troubled that she has missed Christmas with her family. I read the article with poignant interest. I often despair about Australia’s obsession with crime and punishment, and erroneous belief that this alone will deliver community safety despite all evidence to the contrary.
And yet, the 21st of December is now Gravy Day in Australia. This refers to our beloved singer songwriter Paul Kelly and his song How to Make Gravy. It’s a lament from the point of view of an incarcerated prisoner, writing to a family member on 21st December. Its national popularity seems to speak of a potential change of hearts and minds in relation to offending, prison, incarceration.
It was a song that haunted me because, like Abdi, I was the victim of a serious crime, a home invasion by someone I didn’t know. This is over twenty years ago now, but I still recall how painful it was to me to know the offender would be incarcerated, even for so serious a crime. I had made the phone call to police and started up the machinery of justice.
He was (presumably still is) a father, and missed at least eight Christmases with his children while he served in the prison sentence for the crime against me.
Then there was the moment when the Making Gravy song came on my car radio. He had been in prison about six years by then and much of my healing had been done. But the song jabbed me unexpectedly, my sobbing frightening my young daughter. I realised that the painful feelings about his incarceration would not go away until I followed through with organising a victim-offender mediation conference. This allowed me to talk to the offender face to face, but in a safe and structured way. And it gave me some peace, helped me “truly live,” as Brene Brown says in her quote above.
There is always another round of calls for a “tough on crime” stance, and longer penalties, even against children. I often want to say, “I could find it in my heart to forgive someone who hurt me. Why can’t you find it in your heart too?” Will there ever be a Gravy Day change of heart in Australia?
My memoir Not My Story about surviving the home invasion and doing my bit to create change for the better can be found on my website. A respectful trigger alert applies.
Borrowed from the interwebs from here: https://strongarmor.blogspot.com/2012_10_01_archive.html
I had never really done any volunteering work until I had my daughter. Then, bored and awash with 15 years of work experience and skills, I discovered the joys and excitement of volunteering, and I was hooked. That was 23 years ago.
From the moment I lodged my first grant application, spinning words in a grant application into gold, and then into services and activities which really met a need, I was totally hooked. I remember thinking how I had often made career choices that were interesting, sideways or otherwise not very well paid. It was interesting to do something for no money at all.
Since that time I have been lucky enough to make a living in the not for profit world, building those skills from the early days. I mean, it wasn’t until I’d been a volunteer for about seven years that I underwent training at the Australian Institute of Company Directors (AICD). It was a scheme to upskill women and was just a learning bite of their large curriculum. I still remember my amazement on learned that Board members are not supposed to do anything. They are there to oversee strategy, governance and risk.
The only reality I had known was that volunteer organisations have two, or if you’re lucky, three volunteers who sit on the Board or as it is now know, Management Committee and do absolutely everything. That training made me realise that it’s the same mechanism to run a hockey club (with its two keen and/or resigned volunteers doing everything), and a massive not for profit such as RAC, with paid staff and a paid Board.
Fast forward to me skidding out of a not for profit organisation to make time to write. (And it is coming along nicely thanks, still a work in progress, but definitely progressing.) It’s not an exaggeration to say I am a not for profit governance nerd. And that needs an outlet…
Occasionally I will reflect on my day and realise I have spent the entire day on volunteer tasks for my neighbourhood. Oops.
Of course, it could be another fiendish form of writerly procrastination, but it sure is fun…
As I covered up my mother’s swimming pool with its blanket, the wheel squeaked in a mournful kind of protest. It’s quite a big pool, and the sound grated for what felt like several long minutes.
I was just about to take my brother and his adult daughter to the airport to catch their plane back to Sydney. For two weeks of their holiday, the pool had seen countless cousins, nieces grandchildren and great grandchildren diving, swimming and cooling down in the hot Christmas weather. The generations mingled and just hung out.
The pool cover finally finished unspooling, and there was just the melancholy task of dropping the travellers off at the airport. We hugged briefly in the madness that is the drop off area in front of the airport and talked about our next catch up. Back in the car I fussed with my phone to dial up the location of my next appointment. Always keeping busy, staying a few steps ahead of the feelings.
It didn’t really work, I still had to feel the feelings. The sobbing would come despite my best efforts.
I love to spend this in-between time between Christmas and New Year reviewing what I said I would do last year, and dreaming up the next year. My new year planner is waiting for me to fill it with my visions and plans. My 2022 Vision Board is done (see below) from an awesome workshop with my yoga teacher Natalie Snooke. For the stationery and goal lovers among you, I am sharing some of my New Year planning shenanigans.
I used to be very keen on Desire Map Planners until they stopped being produced in 2021. These planners encouraged you to focus on your feelings. The idea was you would think of up to five feelings that were most important to you – your Core Desired Feelings. You could then reflect weekly on these and aim to creatively bring them into your day every day, not just when you achieve big goals. And by this regular reflection and seeking to feel how you wanted to feel, you would move more effectively and efficiently towards the goals.
At the beginning of 2022 I had to fish around for a different type of planner. One that allowed me to reflect not just on feelings, but on habits. James Clear filled the Desire Map Planner vacuum by encouraging me to focus more on developing the habits that will help you achieve your goal. The Jeanette Winterson quote at the top of this blog came to my attention via James Clear’s 1-2-3 newsletter. (Mind you, I have long ago read and loved Jeanette Winterson’s 2012 memoir Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?and strongly suggest you read it immediately, if not sooner!)
In 2022 I had a MiGoal planner which allowed me to track habits which on the whole I liked but it had GOAL DIGGER in giant gold lettering on the front which felt a little much for where I’m at. My 2023 MiGoal planner is the A5 Weekly Spread diary which allows me to track habits but is much more slimline and less rah rah. I couldn’t be happier!
I have pared down having up to five Core Desired Feelings to having one word for the year. (There are umpteen references to this on the interwebs if you feel like exploring). This year I aim to take many new creative risks, now that I have finally worked out how I think I can make enough to live on without pushing writing to the margins again. So my 2023 word is Magic.
I hope you have had a wonderful break and enjoyed this in-between time however it played out for you. Here’s to doing 2023 our way!
Last week I spent my Sunday Blog sharing my health woes and feeling a bit sorry for myself. This Sunday I am happy to report that my Elf, while still a bit elusive is at least visiting regularly. The neck pain is largely receding and my energy is returning in fits and starts. I was even able to do a short beginners yoga session this morning. That felt like a small miracle.
Today another new journey began when my Airbnb guests arrived. I had taken Marie Forleo’s advice of starting before we were ready, which meant a mad, last-minute scramble to get everything done before their arrival. With my Elf missing in action, it has been a hard slog painting, cleaning, lugging furniture and more cleaning. But it’s done.
I am now officially an Airbnb hostess, health advocate and carer for my mum. I have the basics covered financially so I can get on and finish the damn book.
I am definitely blaming the Elf for the recent lack of progress on the book. This week is the great re-set! And I am leaving myself no room for lamenting how I am not getting any younger and just get on with it already.
I take great comfort in this quote from James Clear:
Most people do not consider 65 to be a young age… but when you’re 75, you’d love to rewind to 65 and regain those years. Few people would describe 35 as your youth, but in your mid-50s your mid-30s will seem like the “young you.”
Today is a great opportunity, no matter your age. Looking back in a few years, today will seem like the time when you were young and full of potential or the moment when you could have started early or the turning point when you made a choice that benefited your future.
The moment in front of you right now is a good one. Make the most of it.”
James Clear, https://jamesclear.com/3-2-1/september-22-2022
Certainly spending more time with a 96-year-old reinforces this wisdom. Plus I am not even 60 yet. Today is a great opportunity indeed! Seizing the moment, and clutching onto my Elf.
I remember this cartoon from years ago–I can’t quite find the right attribution without falling into a black internet hole so I am taking the risk of just posting it, anyway. It’s so topical for me. Because, Christmas and Elf. Yes, mature people are always saying “as long as you’ve got your health” and a wag, sick of hearing this, riffed on it with a Christmas theme comic.
For over two weeks now, my health has been unpredictable and its absence has stripped away everything normal. Yoga practice, Sunday Blogs, writing… everything is weird.
I’m not convinced of the usefulness (or indeed the existence) of Elves. But my health is something that, when it is missing, I desperately seek it and remember its value.
The short story seems to be my neck is out. That has meant no comfortable way to lie, sit or stand. Migraines that won’t stop, even a trip to Emergency which helped with the worse excesses of the nausea phase. But every night now I am lucky if I sleep until midnight. Then it’s a cat and mouse game of trying remedies and distractions, repeat until dawn.
The very worst thing for me is I wake with absolutely no energy. To say I am a morning person is a vast understatement. My flat mate from the 1990s in London so hated my cheerful early morning trill of “Shower’s free!” that she has re-purposed it into a wake up call for her teenage son, so he too can suffer as she did.
Now the morning finds me on this strange shore where I wake feeling like I have been squeezed of every last bit of joy. I shuffle through the morning hours until about 9.30, when I typically would have been doing my yoga and feeling on top of the world.
I miss my health. I don’t know where it is, or when it will come back. But when it does, I will remember to lay my gratitude on thick. Without it, life is hard..
So clearly I haven’t had a professional follow up photo – but here I am, one year on from the 23rd November 2021 discovery within my gold diary’s pages that I’d had ENOUGH. It was time to quit the day job.
I decided as well as quitting the day job I would let my hair go grey, an outer sign of the massive internal transition. I still consider them two very good decisions.
And what has a year taught me? How close am I to knowing what’s next?
Well, I am still a health nerd. I sit on a handful of national and state health-related committees still. I definitely feel people are entitled to my opinion and rarely hesitate to offer it. I’m still tilting at plenty of health windmills.The wonderful thing is, I don’t have to run an organisation as well.
Informed health choices is still a core passion that burns with the heat of a thousand suns. This week alone I was able to help two people navigate our health system.
I am still working on the novella, and I have progressed a lot thanks to the Emerging Writers program.
I am still working out what I need to do to make a living, as it’s not retirement time just yet. I have been amusing myself looking at some of my scribbles from last year as I emoted over many diary pages what to do to earn a crust. Do I want finish the process of becoming a certified coach? Nup, I have finally worked out. But not before signing up to me an International Coach Federation member, re-engaging with my wonderful coach trainer and getting temporarily enthused about doing a Masters. Oh, and deciding against the Singapore Trip to become an Enneagram coach…
Do I want to be a consultant? Well, not if it means perpetrating yet more unread reports on the world. Alas I had already bought a Microsoft computer thinking that I would need that as a big shot consultant. I re-discovered how much I loathe Microsoft and my icloud and One Drive files have turned into a sort of glorious digital Eton Mess. Oh, and I registered for GST – because, thinking big. That has now been cancelled by my long-suffering accountant and I only need to do one more BAS.
I mean, it’s a hell yes to facilitating complex conversations and getting someone else to do the write-up. But not a full-on consultant, with writing pushed to the margins again.
Do I want to stack shelves at Woolies from 6am-10am? Well, after emerging from all that consulting I thought I might. At least that wouldn’t take up all my mental bandwidth like consulting does. I flew through the first few stages of the recruitment process for my local store (to be fair, they were all automated) but at the face to face interview the manager gently probed how someone with my ahem- sedentary work history would go with the hard yakka of stacking shelves. He wisely suggested I sleep on it and I awoke at 3am in a cold sweat. Imagine losing all my gorgeous morning hours I’ve just clawed back.
Do I want to look after my mum? Hell yes.
Do I want to do Airbnb the granny flat to assuage my aching maternal heart now my adult daughter has moved out? Hells yeah.
I was trying to work all of this out in November 2021. When oh when will I learn that it must unfold?
