Switching off

Sometimes you need to switch off completely.

Rob and I were lucky enough to have five days at the beach last week without the kids. Sure they’re both adults and they were at home tending the garden and spoiling the pets but it was weird to go away without them for that long.

It meant that we only had the two of us to consider. Meals were easy, any mess was created by us alone and quickly tidied away. There were no external pressures to consider and even better Rob had no phone or data signal at the house so he was completely cut off from his workplace.

Life slowed down, we took time to walk slowly and admire the view, we savoured our food and drinks, we read books for hours. We paddled in the waves and scrunched our toes in the sand. We had real and sustained conversations. We took drives along the coast and into the hinterland and paused again to admire the view. We enjoyed long afternoon siestas.

Reflections of sun,sand and sea

I felt calmer than I had for a long time. The run up to Christmas had been a busy one with lots of clients wanting sessions to help them prepare for the festive season. And then I got a cold. I was shocked. I hadn’t had one in three years and had forgotten just how lousy it can make you feel. And then it lingered on and on for over two weeks. It hung around for all of Christmas and with 10 people in the house it was not an ideal time to be sick. In fact, it made me very cross!

I rolled straight back into the new year with a week of bookings, which was great, my clients are always good fun but I was tired. My knee and its associated medications mean that I just don’t function at the level I did in the past. I tire easily and become very vague. Usually I perk up again after a nap or a good night’s sleep but according to Rob it was like living with a person in the early stages of Dementia. In short, I was at the point where if I didn’t stop and acknowledge my physical health, my mental wellbeing would suffer too.

I came home rested and recharged. I’m keen to get out and work with my clients but I’m also really excited about plans to build my business. It’s amazing what a little bit of self-care can do!

Combatting the post-Christmas {decorating} blues

I love decorating for Christmas, each and every ornament holds special meaning, a moment in time to be savoured. We don’t subscribe to a Christmas with a narrowly defined and carefully orchestrated colour scheme. In this house we celebrate in full colour with all the noise and mess that goes with it - our tree star is never straight!

The tree before Xena began removing one decoration at a time.

But…packing up post-Christmas is definitely not a favourite activity. You know it’s time when there are more pine needles on the carpet than on the tree and even the cat has given up her daily foraging for decorations.

Yup, can’t ignore it anymore, so begins the collection of Christmas stuff from around the house. The bell on the door, the bells hanging next to the door, the garlands decorating the family room. Even the family of reindeer get evicted.

It really is a bell, not a spoon on a string as Rob insists.

But still…the tree. You feel its presence every time you enter the lounge room. It lurks in the corner mocking you with its many decorations and complex lighting arrangement. But still, you refuse to acknowledge it, viewing it out of the corner of your eye as if it is some alien being from Dr Who. Still, surely but slowly it wears you down. You know what you have to do (after all its poor naked corpse needs to be thrown out on the street for collection in two days’ time).

It’s horrid being guilty of a love/hate relationship especially when your tree knows it’s being taken advantage of. 

But still you hesitate, taking time to arrange the reindeer around the Christmas cake. Even the cat looks at you in disapproval but you are amused with your delaying shenanigans.

In the cool dawn, reindeer big and small come to feast on Christmas cake.

You know the time has come, the tree must go. 

And then inspiration strikes! You select the best ever Christmas collection on You Tube and the undressing begins.

Re-creating that Christmas feeling courtesy of You Tube.

Singing along to jingle bells and frosty the snowman, the tree is getting naked. We take it slowly, the tree and I. Each decoration has its own story, a dragon from Hong Kong, a Babushka from Russia, a magpie from Bowning, a pickle from Germany. And of course the handmade ornaments, survivors from another time when the kids were little and Christmas was crafty. 

I’m in the zone now, down to the star on top, bead garlands and lights. And then suddenly, I’m done. I circle the tree checking for missed decorations, heaven forbid I throw away a small wooden Santa or a glass star.

Nope nothing to see here, just a disrobed tree that is a little worse for wear but still smells divine. Suddenly, I can’t wait until December when the Christmas Tree Truck makes its next delivery!

But wait! What is this? A lone survivor of the de-decorating? Buying that huge string-covered reindeer seemed like such a good idea at the time and, admittedly, he looked very cool presiding over the table but how on earth to store him for the next 11 months? 

Surely reindeer are inter-seasonal decor?

Judging by his reading material, Rudi has no intention of being stuffed into a plastic bag!

Feeling green?

The 2017 Pantone colour of the year is greenery. 

My love of blue is the source of amusement among friends – I love all its many shades and hues but if you asked Rob he’d say my favourite colour was green – the colour of 2017 – to be exact.

My love for green is renewed each day when I spend time in my garden. Its many shades are always welcoming and easy on the eye. They have the power to refresh and restore. For me, green is the colour of peace and hope.

With a green on green combo who needs showy blooms?

Yet reality is the colour I’m most drawn too is neither truly blue nor green. 

Refreshing mocktail, anyone?

On the scale of I’m feeling blue to being green with envy, my colour sits somewhere in the middle, turquoise or teal, sea green or sea blue – the clear colour of tropical waters. 

It’s tranquil yet bold, reserved but also outgoing. A colour for all occasions. 

The colour for me.

Segway Rage

2016 was the year that almost broke me. It delivered a series of body blows so powerful that it knocked me off my feet time and again. But each time I stumbled back upright and continued on, a little more bruised, sometimes wiser but mostly just a little bit wearier and sadder than before. But then on 13 December I visited my orthopaedic surgeon and the news he delivered was the biggest, ugliest blow of all. I fell to the ground and considered staying there. I remember saying to a friend ‘I’d like to give up but I don’t know what that looks like’. But with those words ringing in my head I got back up, dusted myself off and limped towards the end of the year.

Christmas came and brought with it visiting family. They’d all gone segwaying the previous year, an activity I wasn’t physically up to back then and my nephew was keen to go again and take me with him. I weighed it up, surely something as gentle as segwaying would be ok? I’d been before so I decided it would be ok and off we went.

It was great, even with my dodgy balance I was fine, chugging along at maximum speed, having a ball. We stopped for a photo, check us out – my 14-year-old nephew in the centre is way too cool to throw his hands in the air! That's me on the left really getting into it!

Next, we decided to have a race and somehow as we lined up our segways collided and I ended up face down on the ground with my good leg trapped beneath the Segway – those things are heavy! I was cut and bleeding but by some miracle my dodgy knee and new hip avoided all injury. Phew!

Sure I was shaken and shocked but I mainly I was angry. A deep fiery rage was burning me up. Why me? How come I was the one who fell off? Why was I bleeding and bruised? Argh! That internal voice from childhood was screaming – why me? It isn’t fair! And it wasn’t. It still isn’t.

I’ve got 19 different bruises, cuts and scratches. But I’ve also somehow regained my perspective. It could’ve have been much worse. I got back up, got back on the Segway and rode it back to base and it was still fun.

That burning anger is what was missing on 13 December when I was sad and afraid. Again. That anger was about so much more than a Segway spill. It was a reaction that had been building since March when my much touted hip replacement didn’t fix my knee. It continued to climb unchecked in the back of my mind when I broke my wrist and waited four days for surgery. Weeks of being unable to do anything while my wrist healed added flames to the fire. Supporting a husband with an all-consuming job and helping my children navigate Year 12 and the first year of university added a sizzle of stress to carry me forward. The unexpected and sudden death of my good friend’s husband made sure the fire remained fed. Countless small disappointments and pressures poked the embers. The backdrop of an unhappy and deeply divided world stirred the coals.

Until…boom the fire erupted and I was angry – white hot and raging. My anger wasn’t directed at anyone, it was more of a shout to the universe, a fist shaking in the direction of all that had consumed 2016. And then it was gone. And I realised it had taken with it most of the baggage I’d been holding onto. My life isn’t the one I would’ve have chosen. My physical limitations stop me from doing at least one thing every day but I’m still here and I’m slowly improving and I’m not yet ready to give up and accept the life of an invalid.

So, here’s to 2017, a new year full of possibilities and opportunities to shake my fist and shout for joy not anger.