Saturday 8 December 2018

Re-emerging

So after I last wrote I went into a little period of hibernation. It was time to take the pressure off, pare down and focus on the needs of my growing family, especially the little ones changing so fast. Being with them and supporting them, through the days of new experiences, challenges and learning, and through the nights of sleepy dreamy integrating, sometimes waking - comforting and reassuring, cuddling and caring. Plus a late Winter/Spring cold or few doing the rounds for everyone! So also time to look after the health and wellbeing of all of us - beloved partner too, and not forgetting myself. Important. It's not always easy being on call 24/7 for the little treasures and as per the oxygen mask on the plane scenario, filling our cups so we have the capacity to share and care is vital.

The Kookaburras have been keeping us company here regularly for some time now, heralding this time of "Healing of Self", as told by Scott Alexander King, in his book Animal Dreaming. Big little learnt to recognise the kookaburras first of all the wild birds of our neighbourhood, last Summer when they were around a lot too. She retains the amazement in her voice when she hears them, though now instead of "Kakaaaa", she has learnt their full name. Bless her for noticing.

The Sulphur Crested Cockatoos of "Illumination" have been around too, and one day not so long ago, as we walked near home, coming out from our Winter's hibernation, same bird-loving child noted two were keeping company with the Emu of "Endurance/Responsible Fathering Skills on a Physical Level" that lives round the corner. This was an apt message as we meanwhile worked on reorganising our family arrangements and routines to allow some space for me to bring in some other elements, while beloved meanwhile has more time on dad duty, as well as time to explore his own dreams and consider which paths to follow to his future.

I felt excited at these stirrings of Springtime growth and unfurling.

Which leads me to my announcement.

At the end of October there is an annual market in our home hamlet of Lal Lal, and this year I took the plunge and booked a stall, finally getting around to making the call with less than a month to go.

This sent me into a flurry of organisation, discovering with each step another red tape requirement needing to be fulfilled. In 'all my spare time' (read 'while I should have been sleeping and eating', as this was all before beloved was home from his job an extra two days a week, so I had to fit it all around the demands of minding the little ones and household duties - thankfully beloved helped pick up some slack here), I managed to renew my ABN, register my business name, and a domain name, undertake a first aid course, organise insurance, complete and send off a Reiki Australia membership application, prepare materials to give out to people and organise the set up for my stall; meanwhile pumping milk when I could (read 'usually in the middle of the night or very early in the morning') so that I was able to be away from my little little for a little longer at a time. (How full time working and expressing mothers manage to do this I do not know - strength to them!)

I didn't quite manage to create a whole new website and completely update all my forms and documentation prior to the market as I hoped (in my dreams!), but I was pleased with what I achieved given the timeframe and limitations and ta da! I was ready to go!

So in time for the market, just before our southern Beltaine, I was ready to officially re-launch my healing practice, and begin to expand again to work professionally in this capacity, after the time out for family focus and caring for tiny children during which I have practised when I can, with family and friends. So yay for that!

Living Lightly With Love is now an officially registered business with all necessary boxes ticked. Ready to go!

The market day was a lovely day and I very much enjoyed connecting with those who came by, from our local area and further afield. I brought all my oracle cards on the day and shared them for free DIY and/or guided readings to help people receive a message for their highest and greatest good, or guidance for an issue on their minds. I received positive feedback that many of the readings were helpful and a bonus couple of donations (thank you kind folk!) which more than covered the cost of my stall fee for the day, which had been my original intention. Now that I have added up all the additional costs to set myself up to practice professionally, I also have a goal for the year to come - to bring in enough monetary income to cover those costs and also to allow the space and time within our family requirements for me to share my work with others while providing for our family. Beyond that I am happy to work, as always, for whatever people can afford to share, so that it is accessible for all who would like to work with me. So, I am happy to receive money payments as people can spare, and I am also happy to work for swaps, or in a pay it forward capacity - which means you might like to pass on something to someone else as an exchange for what you gain from working with me, and also, if you have plenty in abundance, you might like to support me to have the capacity to work with those who have less. 

Already, since the market, I have been happy to swap a session of Reiki and Touch for Health for a dear hand knitted cardigan for my little little, to keep her cosy on these funny cooler days we keep having as we launch into our Summer here, and to take her through Autumn to next Winter once the heat of Summer has passed. Blessed we are, snuggly soft little hugs. 

To begin with I am looking at devoting around one working day of time per week most weeks to offer for working with others, flexible to ensure the needs of my little family are always met and to ensure I have the time to keep myself well nourished also. I can also be flexible to work with the timetables and requirements of others, work, family, and otherwise.

Over time I hope to slowly grow this healing space. Slowly, but surely - it feels right to do it this way - to ensure the space is there, all needs are met, and also to let the growing be strong, to form a solid foundation for my ongoing work.

I will also be taking time for both my personal and professional learning and development, so that I can expand what I have to share ongoing, to meet the needs of those I work with best I can. I am excited about so many possibilities I only just have to narrow it down to choose where to begin.

I will be working from our Halcyon Haven, here at home in Lal Lal, in a lovely bright space in Ballarat, and I am also offering a mobile service, as works best for all.

As well as offering one-to-one healing sessions, I am also looking to develop spaces on my home land to share for group work and for individuals to reflect and to be with nature, for the healing, insight and growth this provides also. As one part of this, I have begun work to create a labyrinth in a special spot near our dam. I look forward to offering this magical space for people to walk, in meditation and reflection, taking a journey to within, releasing the old, bringing in the new, and returning renewed to the outer having received the wisdom of the inner.

A joyful group of friends with my big little (the littlest) walking recently down towards our dam, beyond which on the right is my labyrinth site.
Big little happily skipping through the grass towards the sacred spot early one evening on a family wander "down the back".
Approaching the site through dappled evening magic light.
Labyrinth to be.
Yellow spring button happiness greeted me when I went down to walk the as yet imagined labyrinth for the first time.
Earlier in the year, big little examining a wet wonderland of fairy mushroom rings growing on the labyrinth site.
Sunset skies of Halcyon Haven never fail to disappoint. This place is special.
It feels right to be working on growing what we have here, and on sharing it via my healing work, especially, also following on from the last piece I wrote, to have last week revisited the messages James had for me via the oracle cards, and also having at the same time rediscovered a long lost instant messenger chat with him from back in 2002 (when such things were still novel!). In the chat, amongst other things, we wrote of dreams of living together with friends, in our own little place, where everyone was nice and we grew vegetables and kept chooks and drove cars as little as possible. His view was that our place, a kind of ghost town in our ideas of 2002, should be at least 4 hours from Melbourne, mine back then was that the outskirts of Melbourne would be nice. It was lovely to read of our hopes and dreams and feel that here I am, roundabout halfway to four hours away, with a little vegie garden growing year by year, our chooks happily free ranging, not quite in our own connected village, but our neighbours are nice. :-) Just gotta figure out the driving as little as possible and I'll be even another bit closer to the "Heaven on Earth" from one of the oracle card messages. This beautiful card, from the Nature Spirit Oracle Card deck told me:

"Sit in meditation, connecting your chakras with a rainbow bridge to Mother Earth’s chakras and realize that you have a right to create your piece of heaven on earth. You are reclaiming your divine right to love and be loved, speak your truth and to be heard. Anchor this into your being and let it ripple out to your immediate environment, then across the planet."

How perfect to revisit this now. Other messages from James from that day included Swallow from The Magic of Nature Oracle reminding me to "Stay on course," and The Angel of Healing from my Angel Meditations cards telling me "I am a channel for the healing energies of the Universe."

And so, on I go, keeping on track best I can, and working on my piece of Heaven on Earth, and channelling the healing energies of the Universe.

I will also be working on this blog page and updating each page with what I have to offer as I go, and developing my new website at livinglightlywithlove.com.au as well. And back here, at Home, I will continue to share the stories, songs and visions of my Heart. As always, for sharing, for you to enjoy, experience and maybe learn, and also for me, and the joy, peace and love, brought through sharing my own creative expressions.

From where today I write...
A mother makes space, when, where and how she will...
And some beautiful baby snuggle energies for you too. Till next time.

Thursday 9 August 2018

Life, death and the mystery

So before I got distracted for a while with a rather intense patch of focus on all the day to day doings of motherhood, back in June, while I was working on some of my recent pieces of writing, into which my dear cousin James and dear friend Iain happened, very appropriately, to make their way, some important dates also passed.

It has now been more than one year since my cousin James has been gone.

And just after our southern winter solstice, on the next day, it was Iain's birthday.

So all in all I've been thinking a lot of both of them, extra in these last months, and I thought maybe it was time to share more of the story of how I have known them, before, and since, they've been gone, so I started writing this.

For some, particularly those with perhaps a more scientific or skeptical leaning, some of this may seem strange, or silly, or something, but it is my experience, and in that it is my experience, I know it to be true, and important - of value at least to me. Once upon a time I would have said my official opinion was that life ends with death and that is that. But now I believe it's not quite that simple.

To begin with, something that made a lot of sense to me, and that helped me to understand and deepen my own experiences, an explanation of mediumship from an amazing, and game changing, book I found, or that found me, in magical Glastonbury, four and a half years ago, called Practical Intuition, by Laura Day... Laura says:

"People always want to know how something works, believing that every result must be comprehensible and have a 'logical' explanation. How mediumship works is a mystery. I don't think anybody really knows if it is the spirit actually speaking or an energy that has been left behind or an intuitive's ability to enter a state in which he or she has access to information about things we normally don't perceive, at least not consciously. (I can tell you from firsthand experience, however, that genuine mediumship does exist.)"

And this seems entirely reasonable to me, particularly because of my own experiences.

Now I'm not a medium, by any means, but I have been practising using my intuition for some time now. At first this was less intentional, as my intuitive knowledge just finally made its own way more prominently into my attention more or less of its own accord, after being mostly blocked much of my grown up life by my intellect; and then more intentionally as I learnt more about intuition, its value as a way of knowing, and how to access and use it; especially since reading this aforementioned book, which helped me to expand my awareness, sharpen my focus, deepen my understanding and learn more intuitive techniques and skills… And one thing that seems to me important to remember, is that like any form of intuition, clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsensing, etc., mediumship is not the same as how we sense in our standard five senses. Much as these senses are also more or less completely different to each other as well. We can't expect to hear the clarity of a line on a page, or to see harmony, or taste red, that is unless perhaps we have synaesthesia anyway... And so it is with the knowing of the being of somebody who is no longer alive. It's a sensing that is different to these more well known and understood senses, which can make it tricky to understand at first...

-----

My cousin James and I, as I wrote about previously, were closest when we spent a lot of time hanging out - in those days of spending lots of time with friends - in our late teens through to early-mid 20s, and then we had a special summer as housemates in my rental house in Eganstown, the summer we were 29. We drifted apart after that somewhat, partly through the literal distance of just being in different places, sometimes even different countries, or just city and country away. And somehow we didn't fit so easily into each other's lives anymore. On one visit I made to Melbourne we had a falling out. I called him because I was running late to see him after fitting in other catch ups on my trip to the city where lived many people important to me. Because I was late we would only have had an hour or so together, and despite my feeling that it was better to at least see each other once in a while, James felt wasn't worth it for this amount of time, so despite him being already in our meeting place, he went home and we didn't meet. I didn't see him so many times after that. And he was always difficult to catch on the phone. He wasn't like this with everyone. Some, his best friends, he saw often and I guess he must have kept in contact by phone too, at least for the organising. But my tight schedules of city weekend visits didn't work for him I guess and maybe he was busy and not so interested in keeping up with me by phone either.

In an odd coincidence, a couple of years ago, I randomly became friends with an ex-girlfriend of his, after meeting her one day at a cafe not far from where we now both live. Maybe I might have met her once or twice in the couple of years that they were together, we're not too sure. They were together during the time when I first moved away from the city and so started seeing less of James. We realised the connection when I gave her my details and she asked about my surname that my cousin shared. She told me that when they were together he was sometimes funny about his phone. It makes me feel better that it wasn't just me. But I still wish somehow I'd managed to see more of him in recent times… She also told me he said he was close with his cousin - me. This knowledge brings me warmth and comfort, especially now. He was always important to me, and it was special to hear he felt that way too, even if it was just for that time.

While I was still on my big journey travelling, the story yet to come, he messaged he would be in Europe too. So close, in relative terms, but so far. I had spent time in the countries he visited, but I wasn't there at the same time, and our paths didn't cross, in the end. Since returning home I had texted, I'd missed his call, and he'd missed mine, months in between. I'd texted again, and again. But I didn't see him, or speak to him, since a couple of days before I went away, 5 years ago, at the wedding of dear mutual friends of ours. In Hindsight I am especially glad that I arranged my date of travel to be after that wedding, to see our beautiful friends make their commitment of love, and also so that I saw my cousin then. We had a good time together that evening.

Strangely enough, after he died, I found out he'd been living in the same apartment complex as a good friend of mine from school. I'd been there, so close, several times... If I'd known I might have knocked on his door, maybe I might have even seen him. But I didn't.

I feel sad that we had drifted apart, that it was hard catching up, and that I missed seeing him in these recent years. I feel sad that he is gone and I won't see him again.

But despite all this time passing and knowing he had changed, and I have changed, in that time, I still have this knowing that I know him. I could describe him but I can't find the words for all of him, not like I know that I know him.

And that knowing of him, even just that, in itself, is him somehow still being. It's not the same as him being here, seeing him, hearing him, giving him a hug. But still. It is part of his being.

Also, being his cousin, I know that my teeth are a bit like his. I used to embarrass him by grinning toothy grins at people, asking if they could see our family resemblance. I was happy to be hanging out with family, so important to me. And I know also my fingers are in some ways like his too. I know this for sure despite my hands also being a lot like my mother's, while he is my cousin on the side of my father, because that same ex-girlfriend of his saw it too. My fingers are shorter, and different in other ways, but there is a particular twist of the index finger, a tilt of the middle finger, something about the shape of our fingernails. There it is, joining us through time, space, family.

Time and space shared, memories. And for the reason of family, time spent together, or just because, the same ex-girlfriend also notices things I say that remind her of him. So in that way also we can still be together.

And knowing what I know about mediumship and intuition, I know also about noticing, and also asking.

So one day, last year, in June, when James was not long gone from this plane of existence, I thought as I walked, down a road near my house, that I should ask for a message from him. I intended to do this later, as part of a ritual at dark moon, since that is said to be a good time for divination. But wham. Almost exactly at the moment I had the thought, there was a tree, and the tree made a 4. A perfectly clear, definite 4.


And later that day, and the next day, I kept seeing 4s. They jumped out at me everywhere I went, and especially when I went to see James' mother and brother, my aunt and cousin. And I know that there are those that say repeated numbers have meaning, so I googled the meaning of 44444 and 4444. And the pages I found said, variously, that number 4 "resonates with the vibrations and energies of hard work" and "responsibility, progress and discipline." "Expect to see this number when you are working hard, only hard work can manifest your dreams into reality." "The number 4 symbolizes the principle of putting ideas into form and it signifies work and productivity. The essence of the number 4 is security, diligent work and strong foundations. It is constructive, realistic, traditional and cautious and is the number of system, order and management." "…you are toiling towards your goals and aspirations…"

And that is exactly what James was doing, always did. He had such tenacity and such strength in working towards his chosen purpose. In his own words, on a piece of paper his mother found, in his apartment…


When I saw that 4 tree, and all those 4s, I knew it was my message from James. And then when I found that meaning on those pages on the net, there was no denying it at all, because those words just summed up James.

Later on, at that upcoming dark moon, I also asked for more messages, and used some oracle cards to help with the task. I found messages of comfort there too. But those 4s remained the most amazing, as I had not expected anything in that moment, but there it came, just like that, so directly and easily and clearly. James, with me still.

When I helped his mother, brother and brother's partner pack up his things in his apartment, I saved a couple of jars he had kept things in - oats and tea, or something. I kept them because they are nice jars and they were going to be recycled, but also to keep something from him. And so when I open those jars, to cook lentils, or beans, I remember him. And my fingers, which are a little like his, open those lids, and I remember how his hands moved in particular ways when doing such things as opening a lid, and he is there with me, in my finger tips, opening those jars.


Back in June I was in North Melbourne with my family, for an allergy appointment for our daughter as it happened. We were to have lunch together beforehand after the drive to the city from home. In honour of James, memories of times spent together, and our old tradition, I took my family for lunch at the Classic Curry Company, in Elizabeth St. I took a menu to mark off what we chose to eat, like the old days. And before we left, I told the staff there: many years ago I used to come here with my cousin, every week before our choir practice. I didn't quite, but I almost then cried.

And that week I listened to Nick Drake, on CD - vinyl loving James music blasphemy - but Nick Drake as I listen to him anyway, Five Leaves Left. James' last post on his Facebook, a week or so before he was gone: Saturday in Melbourne - photos of city scenes, and his Nick Drake record. All these years since back then, in those days of time for cousins and friends, when I suppose he must have first introduced me to Nick. A perfect soundtrack for remembering.


Thank you James for telling your then girlfriend you were close with your cousin. Thank you James' ex for passing this on this year. And thank you for bringing him to my mind perhaps more often in recent times, despite his lack of replies, so that I can sadly say that I tried to see him again, even though I didn't.

"I miss you James. It would be nice to see you again." - I'm glad I told him that. Before he was gone.

Can you see the family resemblance?
-----

My dear friend Iain, as it happens, was part of my life that same summer, when my housemate was James. Another dear friend called that summer The Summer of Love. I don't know why he did. But I guess it was. We had good times that summer, all of us, hanging out under the sun. Swimming in lakes, going for walks, rock climbing, gigs and parties. Good times.






After my housewarming that February, the next day, my friends who had crashed with us were all in the kitchen, including Iain. And I told them all I loved them. And boy I'm glad I did. Because I loved Iain. He was impossible not to love really.

Housewarming hijinks


The next day in the kitchen
The day I met Iain, two friends and I were at a gig at the Old Hepburn, one November afternoon, 10 years ago, and as it happened the singer was an old Uni friend of Iain's, and so he came along. I saw him outside walking, on his way in, and straight away I knew I wanted to know him. And too easy it was, as he came and sat next to my friends and I and "Are you guys the locals?" he said. He had recently moved to the area, and was hoping to make some local friends. My friend Ivan invited him to a party, up the hill in Mollongghip. He came late, we danced, and in the kitchen he put his arm around me, and we kissed.

We were both not long out of relationships, and neither wanted anything to go on, but for a time we had a little romance, and so we were close for that time, perhaps each just what the other needed. He valued me and encouraged me, and he named me a sustainability freak; I admired and appreciated so much about him and I enjoyed his easygoing, fun company, and managed to cope with his cheek...

On New Years Day I met him in the city, after both celebrating the year in with friends. We gave each other a new year kiss and I told him I thought I was starting to like him too much.

We cooled it after that. We weren't meant to be together, but still, of course, I loved him. How could you not. And so we remained good friends. And so I'm glad I told him, a month and a bit later, after my housewarming, the next morning, in the kitchen, along with the rest of my friends still there, that I loved him.

And I'm glad that for my housewarming he brought me a chopping board made with his own two hands, out of 5 kinds of wood, twice recycled. That chopping board tells me that I meant something to him too. That I was his good friend. Maybe he even loved me too. And I keep that special treasure, and I remember him.


After that I saw him just two more times. He took our friend Alex and I rock climbing one day, at Dog Rocks, near Castlemaine. That day I said to him, somewhat strangely, in hindsight, "I can't imagine a world without Alex in it." I don't know why I said that. And I don't know why I didn't say it about him too. Hard to imagine still, that it's a world without Iain in it.




I saw him one more time after that. I rode to his house on my electric bicycle, after a building course that was sort of nearby. We hung out a while and then when it was time to go I realised I'd forgotten to charge my bike battery. It was a long ride up hill towards home that night, my battery gone half way, but forever Iain's parting words remain in my mind - "It'll be good for you." And he gave me some chocolate, that I savoured on my way up that big hill.

I spoke to him one more time after that, on the phone. He was sick and said it'd be a little while before he was better, so we didn't make plans to see each other again. And we didn't.

Our friend Alex called me that morning, to tell me he was gone. She said to me, "Iain's not alive anymore." Because he wasn't. He was the first person I'd been close to and lost. And I miss him still, all these years later.

After he was gone I had this strange sense that I could feel his long arms and long body and long legs. I could feel how it felt to be in his body. I can't explain what I mean by that, but that's what I felt. He was tall, and his arms were even longer. So I stood on steps and chairs, and made myself the right height, and gave people hugs from Iain. I don't think they minded, and I don't think he minded either.

A bunch of his friends, from near and far, came together that week. We camped where he had lived, shared stories, and hugs. One friend told how Iain encouraged him riding his bike too. "You can do it!" Iain said. We built a coffin like no other for Iain, made from cedar wood he'd been eyeing for a sauna, in the shape of a canoe. Head and foot slabs chainsaw cut from a massive log, rounded, cracks car-bogged, and sanded smooth. Sanded with love by Alex and I. The coffin was lined with a quilt I think his mother had made, and in the lid a gauge he'd long kept, that he'd taken from an old truck abandoned in the middle of central Australia, so he could still see how fast he was going. Even a special screwdriver was hand forged, to screw it closed. That week we had a fire in an outdoor fireplace, and we kept it lit for him.

Another friend looking at the art that I didn't know Iain had painted, until after he had gone
As we grieved together, we made this
One night by the fire I sat alone and tried to work out the monkey puzzle knot he had tied in one of my ropes. I got it eventually, got it right. Different to how he'd done it though. The fire told me. The fire grew hotter when I was getting it right, and chilled when I was getting cooler... It kept me on track until I got it. And I know that was a message from him. I could feel him there with me, vying for me to get the knot right, to meet the challenge. "You can do it."

Iain tying knots in my ropes, putting up my hammock
And that week by the fire, I wrote a song, a song for Iain, filled with the love for him and from him, of all those people close to him that were gathered there, working on his coffin and sharing stories of times with him, remembering the beautiful man and all his unique traits that made him just the man he was. A song that helps me hold him in my heart.

I went to view his body, leaving his old place on my bike. That was the moment I crashed, my first injury in the string that followed. My world was changing. A new knowing was making itself known. Now this I know in Hindsight. That day I kept on riding, to the station, and it wasn't until I'd caught the train all the way to Melbourne, and on through to the other side, that I realised quite how injured I was, and I limped from the station, pushing my bike, to see him. Until then I don't think I really quite believed he was gone.

His family asked myself and Alex to represent his new friends in his new home town, and speak at his funeral. Both of us chose to sing a song. Alex played guitar as she sang; I just stood, shaking, and sang. Forgetting I was in front of hundreds of people, I sang, more clearly than ever before. After being frightened all the way there, and worrying about singing badly, none of it mattered anymore. It wasn't about me, or how I sang. It was about Iain, it was for Iain, and it felt like because of this, my voice soared. The song was what mattered, the words, the message, the feeling, the sharing, the remembering, the missing, the loving.

The next month his family invited us all to gather at the Grampians, Gariwerd - Iain's favourite place, to walk up Flat Rock and be present for the scattering of Iain's ashes. That weekend I also walked up to Hollow Mountain, where Iain had taken me the first time I went to the Grampians with him, and I stood inside a little cave that he had climbed up under that day. And I recorded his song in that cave, while I sung it there for him.


Many times, in the years since, I have felt Iain with me, urging me on. "It'll be good for you." "You can do it." Sometimes it feels hard, but always, in the end, it is good for me, and I can do it. And in January this year I had a dream. In the dream I was feeling afraid, for some reason that I couldn't remember when I woke up. And then Iain walked in the door, shining, like a spirit would, and in that moment the fear dissipated and was just completely gone. At that particular point in time I was feeling quite stuck and was struggling to work out how to move forward in my life, and in fact I realised I had some fears that were holding me back. After that dream, the fear was gone, and since then I have begun to move forward towards goals I had thought were out of reach.

-----

Special people, loved and lost - James, Iain, others too - even those I didn't know so well, like my grandparents, who lived far away. I carry them all with me in my heart. I love them always. And I miss them. But I also know they are with me still. I know that I know them and I know what they would tell me, in certain moments, on certain days. I can almost feel them, hear them, see them. But it's different this knowing, a different kind of colour, a different kind of sound, a different kind of sense. But no less real, or true, or important. Those we have loved and lost are with us still, they are freed from the complications of life, earthly relationships and communication. It is less clear but more clear at the same time. This brings comfort, and understanding, and helps ease the longing. Though still, always, it would be nice to see them, some time again…

Instead I honour the pledges I made to them when they passed. For James - to make sure that I find the time and space to always express my creativity - that which he described as a human necessity; and to always work hard towards my goals. And for Iain - whose creativity I hadn't fully known about or appreciated while he was with us - to share my music, and whatever beauty and joy that I can, without being afraid, just as I shared the song I wrote for him at his funeral; and to always remember that "I can do it," and that "It'll be good for me," whether it be riding my bike to the top of a big hill, rock climbing, or singing in front of an audience, writing my own songs, or any other challenge that I set my body or mind to do. And for my cousin Janet, who I said goodbye to on my travels, whose anniversary is now upcoming, and who I also wrote about previously - to take care of myself, and also others, through my healing work, reiki and beyond.

Thursday 26 July 2018

Good days, bad days and everything in between.

Good days, bad days and everything in between.

As the days go by, more interruptions to the story, the realities of life as a mother...

Busy days, full days, intense days, quiet days, snuggle days, nature days, friend days, hard days, easy days. Rich days indeed. Good days, bad days and everything in between.

A week in the life of us...

Saturday survived.

With beloved off early to auction, to send our roosters, our chicks grown up, to new homes (or likely a worse fate…), we felt a bit sad… Meanwhile I struggled with aversion while feeding poor dear toddler morning milk on this day, and felt super guilty all the rest of the day for the moment of unstoppable feeling of wanting her away. Then after the usual tumble of morning happenings - potty trips; breakfast (for the little one anyway!); nappy changes and baby feeds; packing all the things that as a mother of two, one needs - I managed to get the rest of us out of the house, and even made it on time - bonus! - to meet our friends, also with two young ones in tow, for lunch. The hour and a half we had together went fast, too fast, as always, between child chasing, food organising, baby feeding, taking everyone to the toilet and changing nappies again, along with the obligatory poosplosion and accompanying entire costume change in the awkward surrounds of the cafe toilet, at least equipped with a change table. But it was good to have the fifteen minutes or so of conversation together that we managed between all the rest...

Back home to collect beloved, then in again (oh the driving…) and we visited a couple of the bigger op shops in town, hoping to find some items to suit our suddenly taller and slimmer toddler two year old. Not much there that suited our needs, though a couple of gems we did find, so perhaps we may have to consider buying some things new. Sigh… Gone are the days of buying only, if any, as many new things as I can count on my fingers, for whole years at a time, that's for sure. But still I try to be an ethical consumer, aiming for second hand, and if not, then locally hand made, sustainably sourced, when I can, and not going over the top with unnecessary new items… How I would love the time to make all the things we need myself...

After dinner, and toddler to bed, a refluxy evening again with the little little one unsettled, then eventually all off to sleep a bit after midnight.

Sunday struggles.

An early start with little one waking and big one disturbed by the motions, at 5:30am. Feeling tired and grumpy, but dear beloved helped me through the feelings of resentment at the demands of two at such an early hour. After the little ones settled again, a couple more hours sleep then milk machine duties all round and then bless beloved for minding the two while I had some more much needed rest.

A clingy day from big little; and the more clingy she was, the more I wanted to get away; and the more I wanted to get away, the more clingy she was, poor tot… Love love beloved who took her outside for wanders, collecting kindling together dropped by the trees on our land. They did some baking together, and made soup from vegies sourced on a little dad and daughter trip to our local farm shop, taking care of our family needs and giving me a bit of breathing space.

The measure of my moments noted in this day when I fitted in no more than 2 or maybe 3 songs on my ukulele before the next demand on me. At least I'm sometimes playing it now, after a long break, inspired to get back to it by sharing my song on here. Glad that sometimes now toddler tot will let me play! And that sometimes she even joins in on hers and sings along too, in her lovely little way, moments of harmony.

Next size up of cloth nappies borrowed and returned by our friends, so hoping to cut back down on disposables again now we have hopefully enough nappies that fit. Counted the tally and depressed to have used around 300 disposable nappies since returning from hospital 3 months ago (plus more used in the hospital days, as in the nursery they didn't supply the cloth we used with big little in her hospital stay). Sometimes we've needed to give ourselves a break, and lately little little has grown too big for her tiny newborn nappies. And we have bought the most eco disposables we can find, sustainably sourced materials, biodegradable in part… But still. I hate every disposable nappy we have used. Insane to think of all the nappies in the world, piling and piling and piling. I prefer a future for my children without these nappies in it. But there they are. And there they will remain. At least with our first we used only 2 packets of 24, of the mostly biodegradable kind - in the hope they might help us get a little blessed sleep, 15 months of difficult nights in - they didn't - plus one from the op shop given to us by a friend, used early on.

Spent the evening again holding mournfully refluxy little little, looking at her tiny face, so sad and then sleepy settling, growing and changing so fast, and reflected on all these challenging feelings, wondering about the source and how to resolve it. Maybe I'm still trying to make up the moments lost with my teeny tiny brand new baby, back in those difficult nursery days. Only 4 days for us, so many have more, but such immensely important moments that they can't be counted in seconds, minutes, hours or days. Sacred moments, outside of time. And the moments lost once home, in catching up with preparations unprepared in the unexpectation of our early arrival. And pumping top up feeds those early weeks, putting baby down just when I wanted to be holding her, and the difficulty of finding moments to do this extra chore in between the demands of feeding the two. And dividing the remaining attention in two, for little little and big little, when I just wanted to love them both so much, in every moment, all the time, but I just couldn't be in all the places at one time. And needing recovery. Needing rest. Needing reflection, and processing. Needing sleep. Needing stillness. Needing silence, and space in my mind.

Monday magic.

Somehow everything was brighter on Monday morning. Perhaps after the moments of respite given by my beloved, and with some warm and cosy bedtime story snuggles and wrapping big little in bedtime rainbows, some baby snuggles too and healing reflection time for me, and then a better sleep, the fog had lifted. Everyone was in a better mood, and the day flowed.

Story snuggly morning again with big little, while feeding little little at the same time. Less pressure from big little for attention, and milk. An outside wander, down the back and up again, fresh morning air enlivening.

And then unicorn baby had her regular (most days - yay!) big afternoon sleep, and toddler dear led the charge in doing the housework, requesting first to do the dishes - cleaned together and later away - yay for a tiny helper who fits right inside the cupboards; cutting together the vegetables for easy cooking later - yay for eating vegetables, only wish miss toddler would…; and "let's all clean together," we swept the floor with our brooms, me chasing behind the to and fro of still learning but definitely improving big little gorgeous helper. Bless her little heart and her enthusiasm for helping, her pride in a job well done and excitement in announcing the afternoon's achievements to her dada on his return.

Cup of tea preparation aided by little helper too, for me, and for beloved, when he returned home from the day's slog. He was tired but happy to see us, and still had the energy to have a dance with our tiny dancer, to the classic Dee Lite.

And yay for a more relaxed and less refluxy evening, everyone off to sleep easily...

Tuesday tricks and troubles...

Of course the moment never lasts, so it was somehow a more wakeful night again, between the two, but not so bad as all that really. We've certainly had worse in the last two years…

Nanna collected big little in the morning, for grandparents playgroup and their special day of play, and after the always still somehow almost tear jerking moment of big little's departure, little little and I enjoyed the chance to quietly snuggle, and catch up on silly things like shuffling files of photos, on phones, computer, hard drives…

And then the restored mood lost, broken, after the arrival home of big little with Nanna. Who against our requests to reduce the influence of consumerism into our young ones' lives, had taken big little shopping, and returned with unneeded items of clothing (chosen by big little - what to say, how to react!) for the small one, to add to our already giant and overwhelming collection in the next size, mostly handed down from big sister, much also already used briefly prior by the small ones of friends, in the fleeting moments these small ones remain in each size, still in perfect condition and fulfilling all our needs. And on top of that had put big little, also against our requests, in front of the TV, again.

Much angst followed.

I love the relationships between our children and their grandparents, especially having never had all that much contact with my own grandparents, far away in Tasmania and Ireland. I love that it is good for my daughters to have the love and attention, and even perhaps some occasional gifts, from these special people in their lives. I love that it brings joy to their grandparents' hearts, to spend time with our little treasures. I love that it gives me a bit of a break, time to spend with little little at this stage in her life, and time to catch up on all the things that have to wait for another day…

But consumerism depresses me, right down to the floor. And I hate television, as much as I am addicted to it, and watch DVDs at home, and TV when I am somewhere that has one, when I have the opportunity and not enough self control to stop myself… I want a different set of influences for my children, so they can discover a different way, and help build the new future that has to be. What to do? How to communicate? How to help this be understood? I know that it's not the norm. I know that it's not the mainstream way. I know that maybe it doesn't seem like it really matters. But it does to me.

And so followed… Wednesday whatever day.

The challenges of these days are made more manageable by the support I am blessed to have around me. My dear darling supportive partner, who takes on child care and home duties when he can, and works hard at a job that is not always fun the rest of the time, who is thankfully also on the same page as me when it comes to our parenting choices.

And grandparents that love to be with our children, who in turn love to be with their grandparents. But how to balance all this with the way I would like them to be brought up. I don't want my daughters watching TV, or shopping in shops for new things too easily available and often unnecessary, that cost the earth in resources and pollution, and all too often cause people somewhere on this same earth misery. I don't want my daughters having lots of toys, too many clothes, too much focus on material items, or spending time being passively entertained. I want to nurture their creativity and curiosity and to let them explore the world and discover and engage and enjoy just being. I want them to have imagination and free time, and time outside. And I also want them to have special relationships with special people in their lives who care so much about them and who they love and who love them. And there's always so many to dos in the life of a family. And also, I need some time for me.

But I need our choices as parents to be respected.

So Wednesday was a low day as I mused on possibilities. Or lost possibilities. How to move forward from here? Back and forth and back again trying to figure out the way… Stuck. Feeling like there was no good option. But my struggles were eased by the love of the little ones, big little sensing my mood and interrupting her snack to follow me to the other end of the house and give me a kiss, "Better now." Bless bless bless her little sensitive heart and soul of love and care.

And kind friends 'listened' via messages, helping also to ease my troubled soul, offering perspectives, empathy, understanding, and advice. Blessed I am to have such friends who care, for me, for my daughters, my family, and for the greatest good of all, to give their honest and helpful thoughts, and who are so generous with their listening.

And then Thursday.

Everything in between.

Moments of peace, calm, harmony, two happy children suspended in the perfect balance - toddler arranging the line up of characters, including herself and her sister, to be tucked in while lying on the mat; or babe asleep in arms that also hold the book to read for big sis; happy smiles, gurgles, kisses and cuddles, the two hanging out on the bed; big sis reading to little sis in a mixture of words from pictures and memory, and gibberish… Before the pendulum would swing back the other way to the next moment of chaos and juggling - between feeding one and helping the other on the potty; one balanced in a big toilet experiment and the other screaming for attention, now; making the effort to prepare on request toast with avocado, one handed while holding a refluxy baby, and then toddler not wanting it in the end anyway… Just as soon as I can appreciate each balanced moment of perfection, the pendulum swings, and away it is gone again…

Friday friends.

A visit from friends (one of the aforementioned, along with her little ones human and dog) brightened our day and warmed our hearts, while a wander together outside in the brisk morning and windy wind got our circulation flowing to our chilled extremities! The three little ones working out interage interstage interactions, so adorably adorable together, and a lovely listener helping once again to ease my troubled soul, while even Banjo the Wonder Dog had a playmate to sniff and run with.

A soothing start to the last day of the working week, which ended early for beloved, with a visit to the doctor and some sobering news about the state of his knees. But we will take care of them, and he will be ok. And perhaps it's a good time for him to be home more, anyway. We will work it out.

Our bodies certainly remind us of their need for care as the days go by. Not quite as quick to rebound as the little ones we watch taking tumbles and picking themselves right back up again with a need only for magic kisses for their healing. A little more effort and attention required to ease our older aches and pains in joints and muscles and bones. But that's life, and maybe sometimes it's good to be reminded to remember to give ourselves some care and love, and each other too.

And round again and back to the usual Saturday story…

Big little swimming with her Dada, leaving time for little little snuggles with Mama, and during afternoon meganap time, some me time and this writing, as prioritised on the suggestion of Friday's friend.

So that was life, for me and my family, last week. This week, and the next, as always, bringing more of the same, but also some things new, each day coming as it will.

Perhaps it's a good thing to have attention focussed in the now sometimes too. To stop looking back, or forward. To stop trying to do something else, to be somewhere else. To just surrender to the necessities of the moment, and the love of the moment, the care of the moment. To feel what we feel, to notice it, then process it, work through it, absorb it or release it.

Strangely enough, with the events of this week bringing television into the focus, while I've been reading lately more on the pros and cons of toddlers and children watching, and about individual shows, since the discovery our toddler has been watching, unbeknownst to us, I've realised we've also meanwhile slipped again into the habit of ourselves watching something on DVD most nights. This is an escape, for sure, from the struggles of these non-stop days, but perhaps more a blockout or denial, than a positive restful nourishing thing to do. And I do know that when I watch too much, my mood is affected just by the watching, and also I lose sleep, and time - for other things to do, that actually help - time to relieve stress by getting jobs done, and time for nurturing activities, even this writing…

Strangely enough I say because part of the solution would be to cut down my own viewing, and also because funnily enough it is a topic upcoming very soon in the story that I keep interrupting...

And, in an odd turn of events, as it happens these last weeks we have been watching some Seinfeld, after finding a couple of series in the op shop the other day, and just yesterday the episode we watched had Kramer battling his addiction to TV by giving his TV to George, and meanwhile making use of Jerry's instead… Ha...

So, meanwhile, sometimes also, perhaps it pays to zoom back out, to look at things from a more distant perspective. This time is so fleeting and so full of new challenges, and so many moments to treasure. Everything changes so fast; sometimes it feels like just as you get the hang of how things are, they change again, in an instant. A first child is always a surprise, nothing can fully prepare you for life with a new baby, a tiny human for whom you are fully responsible. And then the second child brings new surprises too. Much as you've learnt from the first time round, each person is unique and brings something completely different into the picture. And everything is multiplied by two! Except the time, which just vanishes. Hazy days, crazy days, amazing days…

In recent times I also reflected from this bigger perspective, on this life with two children, these last few months, in response to a question on a facebook page, a pregnant mama of one, asking how it is to share the love between two. And this is what I wrote.

So many feelings it's hard to describe... 23 months between my two, almost 3 months in now... Baby surprised us a month early. My heart has melted with love so many times over loving them both separately and together more and more every single day. But it has also been intense, and challenging, and at times overwhelming... My 2 year old has always perhaps been relatively on the high needs side, it would seem, and while it turns out baby is relatively 'easy' (it does seem she was born this way, though it could be out of necessity!!), she is still (has still been?!) a newborn, with newborn needs...

My 2 year old has struggled with sharing attention, mostly mine, and has become extra clingy to me. At times this is lovely as I live in a fairly permanent cuddle puddle, but sometimes I wish she was still excited every day to go outside and feed our animals with her dad as was her tradition before, just so I can have that quiet time with baby and actually pay baby some attention and relax down into baby mode from the intensity of toddler energy... I am lucky to have Nanna and Granny who take miss 2 out or come stay and non stop play respectively to reduce the intensity somewhat...! And my partner helps a lot when he's home, even though sometimes miss little big still just wants me... Slowly she is sometimes now again wanting to go feed the animals with Dada, waving at me through the windows while doing the rounds...

The time goes even faster than ever with two and I feel like both my little ones are growing and changing so fast...!! My little premmie baby in 00000 clothes grew so fast she's in 00s already and not yet 3 months. And she's almost definitely my last so I get that twang every time I put away each size of little things to move to the next... I feel like I almost missed it, it went so fast...! Where did my tiny baby go?! And meanwhile my toddler is suddenly speaking massive sentences and I've lost track now of the new words she is saying every day. She's growing up so much!

I feel closer than ever with my big girl, and we've had deeper and more meaningful conversations than ever before, talking with her about how she felt while mama was in hospital, and how it feels now sharing mama..., listening to her tears and holding her close and telling her I always love her, even when I'm busy... and I've gotten more frustrated with her than ever before too, particularly when she wants milk milk milk milk milk when she just had some and I'm trying to feed hungry baby and she's jumping all over us... I've struggled with nursing aversion with my toddler too which is hard, especially when she was down to just one feed at bedtime most days while I was pregnant after my supply dropped and now up to wanting it pretty much all the time... and most especially when baby is feeding... I've had to set limits for the sake of my own sanity, and for practicality, as I could easily be breastfeeding one or the other completely non stop ALL DAY... and I found feeding both simultaneously awkward and uncomfortable and frustrating and draining, though I still do it that way very occasionally...

And right now the oddest random unexpected feeling I am having is that my deltoid muscles and biceps are really aching from holding books up with my arms in the air over feeding baby while toddler leans on one arm to be as close to me as possible and I hold her away from squashing the baby, and still I have to turn pages and hold the book so we can both see. Super achy ouchy!! Kinda funny... My partner moved rocks all day at work but I feel like my muscles surely ache more than his...!!

Sometimes toddler has moments of wanting to push baby aside and slowly is less often suggesting it's time for someone else to 'cuddle baby now'... But she also loves her sister more and more and more and it is the most adorable thing ever in the whole wide world to see - even just the way she looks at her and talks to her, and how she showers her with affection... In fact all of us are getting so many cuddles and kisses, so much heart warming love from toddler girl right now, more and more and more..... And little one is looking more and more at us and smiling, and my heart just bursts when I see my big little one go to her, and talk to her or smile at her or kiss her and little little one's face cracks into a lopsided baby grin..... I remember seeing a toddler and 6 month old sibling giggling together when I was pregnant and oh am I looking forward to so many beautiful moments....

And I feel desperately sad for every moment I have to miss one on one with each of them, and I cherish every second I have with each alone and with both together more and more....

And I grieve for my big one being my little one, and almost cry looking at old photos and videos of 'before'... When she first came in to hospital to meet her sister I had to restrain myself from exclaiming 'You're enormous! Look at the size of your head!!!' (I didn't feel it was quite what was needed in that moment...!!) And sometimes I have to remind myself to remember, and sometimes I just can't forget, how little she is still....

I cried and cried and cried and cried and cried in hospital, in my ward bed alone with my little one in the nursery for four days, me coming and going (painful slow waddling back and forth and back and forth again) between feeds to chase my own lost meals and not manage much sleep, and my big little one meanwhile struggling through the nights at Nanna's house with neither Dada or Nanna able to console her...

Heartbreaking... I missed them all so so so much......

And the biggest relief ever in the whole wide world when they said we could go home and being in the car all together heading home and my big little one singing about home and about her sister...

Being torn in two at bedtimes, especially in the early days when both needed me, only me, at the same time, listening to one cry while I fed or settled the other, back and forth... Some moments a bit like this now but not so badly...

Mastering the art of cuddling my toddler while feeding little one/holding her up post feed to help her reflux. Blessing my little helper who brings me my stool for my feet, the cloth for the spit ups when I forget to get organised, without me even asking...!! Watching her take care of her own babies (newborn doll we gave her when her sister arrived, and any of her assortment of soft toys she has suddenly started bonding with): breastfeeding them - both sides!, changing nappies, feeding food, cuddles, dancing, singing with them, sometimes all at once...!

Bathing the beautiful tiny two together in our tiny bucket bath, and all four of us (Mama and Dada too) skin to skin in the big bath at Nanna's house - somewhat squashy, yes, ;-) but beautiful and worth it, yes. :-)

Sleeping (sort of), awkwardly, in a puddle of tiny people, feeling so much love and so so so so tired...

So. Many. Feelings... So. Much. Love.

Saturday 14 July 2018

My number one treasure

So it's been another one of those weeks of mucked up, cancelled, confused and missed plans; difficult nights with not enough sleep; flat out days with not enough down time to straighten out the wrinkles in my tired brain; children working through big changes, and big emotions, needing a lot of input and energy; and for that matter grown up me doing this too. All not helped by the basics of enough water and good nutritious food being replaced by too much coffee and too many grabbed junky snacks; and technology, as always, failing in the middle of it all and adding to the stress, making organising anything even more difficult, and stressing out nostalgic me that I have lost records in words, sounds and images of treasured memories from these precious months with tiny people changing so fast, every single day... (But in a turn around after a day of panic, they are not lost yet and I am working through the convoluted process of ensuring their safety via still somewhat problematic too old and secondhand technology... First world problems I know...)

So, instead of the piece also now still unfinished that was lining up to bump in ahead of the next prelude piece yet unfinished, it seemed time for an ode to my partner, who has helped me keep it together through it all, this week, and every week...

My beloved partner is the absolute best. He is so perfectly imperfect, just right for me. He is just what I need, and everything that I have always really and truly wanted, in the depths of my heart and my soul, even though some parts of it took me a long time to work out, in my mixed up ways as I went, making not always quite as good choices...

In the end I found him, or, I guess, he found me. And for that, every single day, I am grateful.

When I hit my toughest moments, he doesn't judge; instead he supports me, unconditionally.

He is there for me and there for our family. He is our rock and our calm in the storm.

Don't get me wrong, sometimes he's the storm too, when he's had a tough day, and not enough sleep. Nobody's perfect! And on those days, I do my best to be there for him too.

Sometimes, both leaning on each other through the hardest moments, we manage to stay upright, when each alone might perhaps have fallen. Perhaps, with the strength of a triangle, the top two sides meeting in the middle, the weight of the other bearing down through the struggles is sometimes even all that holds the other up...

Together, we make it through.

And so, I am thankful, every single day.

Bless his cotton socks, his beautiful smiles, his bright happy beaming eyes and his sad puppy dog eyes too. Bless him for singing and dancing with me and bringing joy and laughter to our days. 

Bless him for his openness and his honesty.

Bless him for his beautiful cuddles and kisses and all of his lots and lots of love. 

Bless him for working hard, to give us what we need. And bless him for doing the dishes, almost every single day. 

Bless him for leaving clothes all over the house then fussing over my socks. Bless him for bearing with my quirks and foibles, and loving me for just who I am. Bless him for letting me know when I need to pull my head in and when I need to pull up my socks, or when I need to put them away...

Bless him for encouraging me to do my thing, and for helping me to grow.

Bless him for making choices together, working as a team, and helping things flow.

Bless him for being the man he is, and my man to boot. 

Bless him for being such an adorable father, loving and caring for and guiding our girls as they grow. Bless him for holding them through their tears, especially in those moments where I feel like I'm being torn in two, unable to be there for both of them at once. Bless him for making them smile and laugh, and bless watching them love him too.

Bless him for being by my side, helping to steer the ship and to chart our way through unknown waters. Bless him for helping to baton the hatches and ride the waves through dark and stormy nights; for helping us to pause with patience in the becalmed moments of stillness when it feels like we're going nowhere; and for helping us to forge ahead in the sometimes rare moments of blissful smooth sailing.

I love you my sweetheart, my darling, my dear. Every moment is a blessing, when you are near.


I know in the depths of my heart and my soul that we are in this together, forever. And for that commitment, that trust, and our love, I am so very grateful. Every single day.