Where did the first half of the year go? I know I was productive but what did I actually do, is harder to quantify. What is easier to reflect on is the milestones I achieved, mindfully.
To eat fast food is convenient. It is promoted as such and we come to believe it. Tired and hungry is where I’m most vulnerable, so dropping my suitcase and heading out for a ‘quick meal in car’, became a place of comfort. It is more than six months since I last ate a fast food burger, and longer, for the spicy, flame grilled chicken, that I love. In the last month or more I have changed my habits and take a bag to the supermarket. So what did I achieve?
Psychologically I’ve achieved a sense of being. I make choices. No, I make better choices. Thoughtful choices. Choices that matter to me, community and environment. I am healthier and have more energy. My use of plastic has reduced drastically.
I’ve become more aware of other issues too. There are more vegetables and fruits in people’s trolleys. Young mothers write blogs on how to eat healthy. As people become more knowledgeable about the food they consume, the marketing ramps up. Suddenly, there are mini bottles of fizzy drinks for an affordable $2. There are fast food specials, buy the biggest size for an extra $1. On the other side, there is a sure but subtle push by health professionals who ‘entertain’ evening viewers, by providing real facts. The science behind the reward system in the brain is convincing. And there’s no better feeling than testing it.
First I worked out the moments where I’m most vulnerable. Coming home from a trip is definitely one of them. So I’ve made sure I have meals in the freezer and in the taxi ride home I visualise the meal, steaming hot and fragrant, on a beautiful plate. I quickly freshen up while the meal is warming. I’m home! My brain fires up again. Rewarded! Yesterday I got lost in a suburb where you don’t want to get lost. Flustered by the experience it was well past lunch time. I saw fast food ahead of me and tried to reason with myself. I won’t eat a burger but a small packet of fries, those hot, crunchy, salty fries would appease the gnawing hunger and reduce the stress I experienced. I quickly switched my brain into reflecting on a talk I watched on how a particular type of potato is grown, harvested and sold to the public to consume. I made a choice to bypass the “bouquet” of fries. I came home and ate a delicious steaming bowl of roasted garlic and cauliflower homemade soup. Better choice! Instant multiple rewards embedded in discipline, impulse control, mindful waiting, healthy decision making for body and wallet!
I’ve started keeping my reusable shopping bags in the car and pack one in my suitcase at all times. If I forget the bags when I enter the supermarket, it’s just a short walk back to the car park to get them. (Incidental gain in exercise!). The confined space of the bags limits my impulse shopping. I buy what I need. I fill my water bottle at home. I’ve put my recycle bin out only a few times in the last few months, largely because I have bought very little that needs to be thrown out. I’ve washed my glass coffee jars to reuse in the pantry. I didn’t buy a lot of processed foods before anyway, but now, there’s even less.
I recall a time when we had one large plastic bin (that I found so hard to carry to the kerb), and it influenced my shopping habits. Then came the wheelie bin (convenience) and later the recycle bin (environmentally friendly). It was easier to consume more and roll my rubbish out. I bought plastic, it could always be thrown in the recycle bin. Conscience calmed. So is this a chicken and egg scenario?
There are some obvious benefits to my health and the environment but how does all this impact community. The burden that is placed on health care as people get older is a dialogue just starting to become more audible. The wider cost to community is spelt out in statistics. Most of the issues that older people present with are lifestyle issues. But I’ve seen change. I can recall years ago, it was acceptable to have someone smoking at a desk nearby. Then people were asked to go outside to designated areas to smoke. Now, it is rare to find anyone is those areas. Yes, there is hope, for more change.
I hadn’t really processed this about myself. I’ve never smoked but I’ve eaten a lot of unhealthy foods over the years. I did not appreciate the science and biochemistry that makes my body work at optimum. Yes, knowledge is power. I used a simple analogy and it changed my thinking. I wouldn’t stop road side and put sand into my gas tank if it was running low. I wait to buy the fuel my car needs or I pre-plan what I need for distance driving. So now I reward my body with the best fuel at the right time and place.
Those who know me, know I love the philosophy of Marie Kondo, the Japanese declutter queen. She says, “People cannot change their tidying habits without changing their thinking”. This is true. Change can be achieved, mindfully. It fits in with three simple words that guide me: “Think. Do. Be”. There is no wisdom here. Just the principles that guide the complex science of behaviour modification.
The results speak for themselves!
Until next time
As always
a dawn bird
I’ve criss-crossed the Wheatbelt, a region of some 155,000 sq km. I’ve been further north east and further east of east, than before. The resilience of folks in farming communities is something that strikes me each time I visit. It must be difficult under circumstances where the pastures are green with rain and then 50 kilometres down the down, they are still waiting for it. People think in terms of community. What can they do, to make a difference. They are quick to minimize the role they play, often with a matter of fact, “Well! that’s what one does!”
Then there was the Kimberley region. Beautiful Kimberley, an area that covers some 422,000 sq km of ruggedness. Broome, is a favourite town but there’s a special place in my heart for Kununurra, a place I want to visit again on holiday. I’ve experienced joy in this town in the company of birds and the excitement of spotting my first freshwater crocodile. There are gorges and ruggedness to explore, and when standing still, blue dragonflies to observe.
I’ve visited the Midwest more frequently than I have ever done in previous years. It is larger area than the Kimberley at 472,000 plus square kilometers. The stunning landscape of the Coral Coast is memorable.
The mining region of the Pilbara, in the heart of Western Australia cover over 500,000 square kilometers. It is harsh, hot, and humbling country. Oh! how I love that red dust! Driving across it in summer was a highlight for me.
And who can forget the South West, nearly 24,000 sq km of beautiful food, wine, trails, forests and coastline.
Last but not least, the Goldfields Esperance region, covers over 770,000 sq km. Esperance is where I spend three consecutive nights each month, so naturally, it is my home away from home.
Curiosity
I once saw one in the wild. No, I tell a lie. It was on the tree right in front of me. My companion saw it and tried to explain where it was. After a good half an hour, I pretended like I saw it. (A moment similar to the one where Rachel in Friends pretends she can see her baby in the sonagram!). I was too embarrassed to tell him, I. JUST. COULD. NOT. SEE. IT. (And, I was the one with the zoom!).
At the base of the massive boab tree was the tiny chick she so desperately tried to protect. If you look closely you can barely see it at the juncture of the base and the longest root that extends from it (to the left of the screen).
So young, it still had feathers on the crown and eyes that were barely open. In a park where dogs and children played with careless abandon, the vulnerability of the chick, fired my up protective instinct too.
The chick relaxed and stared at me with curiosity.
The mother did the same, no longer flapping her wings furiously. She flew away time and again, returning with a morsel each time. She fed her chick with utmost patience.
I stood guard until the park was nearly empty. The protective instinct of the mother was memorable. No longer anxious, the mother and chick relaxed into their respective roles of nurturer and one being nurtured. The impact of trauma on a developing brain is well documented, especially for learning, emotional regulation and attachment issues. It came together for me in one fleeting moment.
The gull stood still and watched the tide come in. From the road above, I did the same.
Then the gull then strode out purposefully to meet it.
It seemed to know where to stop. 
It stood still and waited.
The tide came in with bounty. The Pacific Gull knew this. This was time honoured instinct. Honed and practiced. No technology to guide it. It was a beautiful thing to observe. A moment of mind-body connection, for gull, and me.
This is Esperance Bay at first light. The winter sun rises further left in the Eastern sky. It spreads the softest light, before it rises. Some people do this in life too.
My favourite spot to have my first coffee of the day is the end of the groyne. Sometimes the dolphins visit to keep company. 
I then head to West Beach to catch the glow of sunrise in the softest pinks, blues and greys.
If I meet my target for the day, I know I’ll find these folks too. Nothing keeps them from catching a set, except maybe a shark warning. Yes, maybe.
Surfers seem to sense the potential in an opportunity and go for it even if it is a short ride. They may not know this or see it as such, but each decision they make is a goal. Enjoy the ride.
And Woody Lake is where I sit and consolidate my day. The solitude gives me vantage point. It is where everything comes together in a moment of quiet. My vision, enhanced with clarity.
In my garden a lone purple rose is blooming. The bees are having a pollen spa. They are fascinating to watch.
In the backyard the rainbow lorikeet added colour to any otherwise ordinary day.
I’m dreaming of far away places, like Broome. Time to go there.
But for now, I’m off to Esperance again. It promises to be cold, wet and windy. But always beautiful, even if the only light is an (unknown) berry in the garden, that glows.
Roadside in Balingup where wild freesias grow.
Then there’s Donnybrook. Known for apples and orchards. I have to spend a few days here and so looking forward to it.
On the way to Margaret River, our premier wine country, I’m looking forward to a walk along Geographe Bay. I’ve walked the 1.8 km Busselton Jetty and this time, weather permitting, visiting the underwater viewing area is on my list.
I always love Margaret River in winter. A chalet, good cheese, a good red, blanket and book fireside, and I’m happy. Of course, there’s also the added attraction of tiny wrens!
I’m hoping to find some time to walk in the Perth Hills. I’m not sure what’s blooming at this time of year. I’m never home to find out! This picture and the next were taken in spring.
I know the coming weeks will bring moments of sheer joy.
I watched sunrise from bed. The sun appeared, a bleary eye, and then disappeared, like the town beneath it in the distance. Oh! well! I better pack and try and head off home cautiously, I thought. I did just that.
I got out of my car to all that I wanted in that moment.
I found colour and life.
Refreshed by rain, the greens and greys of the bush were vivid. I was greedy and gulped the pristine air.
On prostrate scrub there were splashes of white, pale pink and peach.
At the cusp of winter, a hint of spring.
It’s difficult to see but this track sparkled like a carpet of a million diamonds. I’ve never seen anything quite like it!
I took it all in. What falls away, makes it autumn. Then comes spring. So in life, too.
Deep in thought I was startled by a rustle behind me. I turned around and caught this mother kangaroo in mid hop.
She led her joey to feeding. I was transfixed.
The joey was curious about me.
Oh! those eyes and beautiful velvet ears!
The red breasted robin hopped around me, then perched on a branch for a perfect picture.
While Mrs red breasted robin watched his vanity.
Just outside Geraldton, Western Australia is Greenough, famous for historic buildings and the iconic Leaning Tree.
A Shared Space 
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