Paula Light has suggested we post one thing we love every day during the month of February. I love the idea of serendipity.
There is no other way I can describe how I met my first and last loves except that it was serendipity. I met my former husband when walking across a crosswalk. He made a comment and I noted his Canadian accent. He was thrilled when I did and we started talking. We married eleven years later, had two children, divorced ten years after marriage and remain on good terms.
I do believe I have met the last love I will have, in the most circuitous way. I drove past him, stopped to say hello to someone he was with and several months later, ignited something that has continued for several months despite the tyranny of distance.
To find something that one searches for in the most unexpected way is a feeling like no other, like finding heart shaped rocks and stones, which I do regularly when beach combing or bush walking.
Paula Light has suggested we post one thing we love every day during the month of February. I love the idea of this and it generates all kinds of good feelings in me.
I recently went through a ruthless culling process in my garage. One of the hardest decisions I had to make was to discard this old suitcase, one I have had since 1978. It has no wheels. How on earth did I lug it around airports is a mystery.
One of my enduring loves has been travel. I yearned to travel from a very young age, and have done so, and awoke to childhood dreams. The excitement remains to this day for me.
I no longer travel overseas, not because of the pandemic, but because I am discovering my own backyard. There’s value in this. I’ve learned to look closer to home, because that’s where my heart is happiest.
Paula Light has suggested we post one thing we love every day during the month of February. I’m not sure if I will be able to do this every day but it is a ‘feel good’ reflection I’m looking forward to participating in.
One of the things I love when I travel to the outback is finding the unexpected. I found this charm on a rock in the Murchison region of Western Australia. I left it where I found it and brought home just the memory.
There was no other quotation other than from Shakespeare that seemed to fit my reflections this morning because my life felt like a Shakespearean tragedy just a short time ago.
I walked around my garden this morning and found what I was seeking for in the eye of the young dove. Peace, stillness, connection, understanding, clarity.
What I am about to share goes back some two months. No. Further back. I have been busy caring for other people and living life with no sense of accountability to self. I have a paid a price for this.
If I were to pinpoint a time frame it is at least two or three years ago when I first started feeling pain. I put it down to computer work, fatigue, frequent travel (means different beds and pillows) and with each year I feel I discover a new bone in my body. So I ignored the pain and got on with life.
December was devastating. My healthy brother in law passed away suddenly and as his children had to return from overseas and quarantine, the funeral took place a month later. I was unable to attend his funeral in the Eastern States, due to travel restrictions.
The stress of this while supporting family caught me off guard. I woke one morning with one hand so swollen, it resembled a boxing glove. The pain was horrendous. Unable to dress I waited a few days before seeing my doctor. He barely looked at my hand, dismissed it as part of aging and told me to take anti inflammatory medication (which don’t agree with me). Refusing that option, he felt he could not offer me anything else and told me to use warmth in some form to soothe the pain. Two weeks later I went to another doctor (female) who sent me for a blood test which confirmed an auto immune disorder. I went into a tailspin as I know the medications that will be prescribed are not what I want in my body.
I read up on the condition as much as I could, stress is a major contributor. So I set about changing my schedule and my thinking. My accountant, bless his cotton socks, is a wannabe natural health healer. While talking to him he told me about a product he sells, a magnetic wrist band. Not wanting to take pain medication and non functional without them, I was willing to give it a try. Within 24 hours the swelling had become hardly noticeable. Two days in, I was not taking any analgesics or topical pain relief. A week on, I can close my hand into a fist. Yesterday I lifted a glass because power in my thumb had returned. I can dress. I can lift shopping bags. I can type. I am nearly 100% functional again.
It made me think this morning … why do we wait for a crisis before putting self-care as a priority? This is true for all genders. We give others the best of our qualities. Why don’t we share those qualities with self?
So it is my mission this year to ask the question: what have you done to improve the quality of your life, today?
It is in the moment of falling, losing grip of that fluid ground his peripheral vision sharp as he gazes briefly on those around still waiting for that wave he caught lying around, waiting, while he falls while he falls, he know he caught the wave boldly the one they waited for so he rises again, firm, steady, boldly determined on fluid ground once more.
by dawnbird
I love watching and photographing surfers. When I see them in the ocean, they teach me about hope, anticipation, courage, patience and most of all, determination.
So I start my first post of the year wishing that you have the courage to ride that wave because it is only in the falling, that you will know you have done so.
As always
a dawnbird
PS The poem came to me today from a place where I was two months ago which I will write about in the next post.
They say every cloud has a silver lining and so I focused on what I had this year and not on what I had lost. Putting things into perspective, sooner rather than later, is what I did almost immediately when I was told in March to be prepared for a two year moratorium where work was concerned.
Shifting my thinking to what I can do and focusing on what I still had was vital to quell the panic I initially felt. My income comes from my outreach work that I do in regional and remote areas. I had to adapt to the use of technology rather than face to face contact with people. This was a challenge to overcome and mentally taxing.
Returning to my city, Perth, to empty highways during peak hour was a reality check. Considered one of the most isolated cities in the world, I realised the reach of the virus was not to be underestimated. Our state government went into protection mode. It may not seem the appropriate thing to do for some people, but most of us feel safer with the borders closed. I have not come across one single person who had the flu this past winter. It only confirmed people are following hygiene protocols of regular hand washing during the day, using sanitizers in public and socially distancing. Simple and effective, I see there is value in this.
To see the devastation in other parts of the world, is heart breaking. I have struggled with this all year.
Once travelling again, I had to find my nerve to fly in small chartered planes, instead of commercial airliners. This was no mean feat. Fortunately the young pilots were great fun and reassured us each time we took off and congratulated us on landing after a bumpy flight! Little did they know, our silence was because we were petrified!
This was the year I was going to get Lounge Membership for the major airlines as a treat so I could relax while at the airport. It was not to be! I had more fun in extreme heat in the outback mining towns. This being the lounge/terminal at Mt Magnet Airport.
This is the year I saw communities unite and create spaces for people to enjoy. This is freedom of expression and community spirit in times of hardship for everyone, yet, the simplest gestures became more meaningful. Can we continue living like this, please, is my wish for all.
I found humour in unexpected places. This was a Pub Story I found in the Wiluna Museum …
“Once the miners’ payday rolled around, queues formed outside all four of Wiluna’s hotels that weekend. Thirsty and well moneyed miners would arrive early to wait for each hotel to open, hoping to secure a much sought-after spot at the bar. Any man who succeeded would stay all day, simply because the shoulder-to-shoulder crowd of miners behind him kept him from leaving.
One tale tells of a man who had decided he’d spent enough hours drinking, and loudly proclaimed that he was selling his place at the bar. Chaos ensued as money was thrust at him from all angles, and eventually the other patrons shoved clear enough room for the man to leave.
Without the crush of patrons holding him upright, he promptly fell on his face. With no way of getting him through the throng to the exit, he was simply rolled under the overhand of the bar and used as footrest until closing time.”
Once normal travel resumed I realised this was a mural I had missed despite picking up my luggage at this carousel dozens of time during the year! I have promised myself to be more aware of my environment while indoors, too.
I have found renewed joy in cooking for more than one and learned to cook Thai cuisine while sequestered in the city.
I stopped searching for love some years ago, my work and career filling the void. To find someone with a heart who planted me a garden, so I could feel I return home after a busy trip, was an unexpected find.
And who surprised me with solar lights, so I could enjoy my garden from the bedroom at night, made me realise, never underestimate the thought behind the gesture.
In life and in love, there are things that control us and there are things we can control. Knowing the difference is key.
May you find time today to trust the Universe but more importantly, trust yourself because it is not in the shuffling that we are made more resilient, it is in the acceptance of letting the chips fall where they may.
A sunset camel ride is a must for any visitor to Broome, Western Australia. The climb into the seat is a journey in itself! The lurch forward (cue squeal) and violent lurch backwards (cue higher pitched squeal) and we are up. The rhythm is slow as the pace. It lulled a child to sleep. I have watched these camels while seated on the beach at sunset with a chilled drink in hand and promised myself I would do it one day. I was thrilled when I found the courage to do it.
Cable Beach in Broome is well renowned for its beauty especially at sunset. The sun is the star here. At peak tourist season the beach is a car park of white 4WD, people sitting on deck chairs and drinking while waiting for the drama of sunset which is always spectacular. The camels bring an air of excitement when they appear. It’s a time when one’s inner photographer surfaces and folks chase the convoy trying to get that perfect pic.
I’ve always found something romantic about camels, even though they can be cranky creatures. They are a prominent feature in the history of the outback where caravans of cameleers travelled through inhospitable terrain. These brave hearts speak to mine!
This is my first post in weeks and I feel like I want to write again. There has been so much happen this year that has knocked the air out of me. I haven’t lost my enthusiasm for every sunrise and sunset. The sun still shines, so I’m back to a life of adventure again. This being my first step in that journey. My pace will be slow but it will have momentum. Join me!
I’ve changed a lot. In my youth architecture was synonymous with beautiful domes, stained glass, marble and intricacies that delighted the eye. I then grew to love line and form, in a word, simplicity. Now my heart yearns and is steeped in nostalgia. When I visit rural and remote areas I look for the language and lives of people who once lived there and called it home.
This was once a thriving settlement, east of Mullewa in the Midwest.
I loved the corrugated roof line and wondered what it sounded like when it rained.
A home on the main highway to Perth in Popanyinning. Although old, it is still vibrant with life.
Another old home down the road. What was life like indoors? I sat across from it and conjured up the laughter of children, harrassed mother shooing them out to play while she was hard at work over the wood stove, waiting for her husband to return from work. These days, it would seem, the laughter of children has been quietened by hand held devices.
This would have been a grand old home once. It still is.
One often finds architecture similar to this in rural areas, mostly post war.
Drive into any outback or rural town and the most impressive building will be the pub. This was in Cue, in the Murchison region.
Or in the Wheatbelt, this building dominates the main road in Dalwallinu.
In outback and rural towns three buildings are omnipresent. The hospital, the church and the pub. This was once the hospital in Wiluna, a thriving town of some 8000 people in the gold rush heyday, now only a few hundred people. The town sits at the edge of the Western Desert and the population is mostly indigenous. The hospital is now an art centre and museum. The art sold here is stunning.
The organised religious groups have a strong presence in these communities. This is the Catholic Church in Mt Magnet, pristine with sleek lines and somewhat cold on a hot day so I found my chapel under the night sky studded with stars.
Buildings are a vision of the architect, transformed, it is the language of the time and like any communication, has the potential to generate connection. And, in these times, isn’t that the essence of simplicity in what we seek?
One of my disappointments this year has been the loss of a contract in the Wheatbelt region. I loved working in those communities and enjoyed the landscape that is so rich in diversity, so I was thrilled to be offered a one off visit during spring.
Needless to say the first place I visited was Foxes Lair in Narrogin. It was festooned with wildflowers as far as the eye could see.But as always, my eye searched for that one flower that lit me up from the inside.I’ve been working a lot in the Midwest region and in the Murchison outback. I’ve had to drive to Geraldton, sometimes more than once a month, a trip of over 800 km return that I enjoyed but it started to take a toll on me. Fortunately the flights there have resumed on a regular basis. My base is Geraldton when I travel through the Murchison by small plane. The flight across this vast landscape allows me to view it differently. It is an ever changing canvas.Heading to the Gascoyne region I’m impatient to fly over Shark Bay. The area is stunning on land and from air.I visited some small towns in the Eastern Wheatbelt I hadn’t visited before and was delighted to see some old buildings preserved as is. This was in the small town of Pingelly.And to find a corner store in Popanyinning, one that no longer exists in the city, that sells everything including petrol. This road is the main highway to Perth!“You can’t miss it!” she tells me. The signage that guides me to homes is sometimes amazing! This was 30 kms off the highway on an unsealed road and the landmark to turn into the farm I was visiting.Spring ended with the first of the art work arriving. I met Sobrane, an artist who lives in Broome, some years ago. I knew one day her work would find a place in my home as it had in my heart, but I didn’t expect it to arrive with love.My house is transforming into a home. The beautiful brolga dances with joy, and do so I.
May the journey you take through the seasons be the one that enriches your spirit and the change you experience, be the change you want.
As is my routine while in Esperance, I check the sunrise time each day and set my alarm for five minutes earlier. With summer a few weeks away, the early light gives me more down time in a day.
I headed to Woody Lake, a place I’ve visited dozens of times, each time more curious than the last. I always find something here that soothes my soul in a way no bright city lights can.
On this morning I headed into the region, driving no more than 5 kms an hour. I know before 6 am the kangaroos feed roadside. Not this morning though. I was alone and even the birds had not woken.
I sat for some minutes enjoying the solitude when I saw it roadside.
I knew it was male but hunched, I could not determine the size until the big old boomer started to move.
The walk across was slow and laboured. He was old and possibly injured.
Halfway across the path he stopped.
He stood for a minute or two listening intently. Oh! how I wished he would move as I feared a car coming in around the bend would not see the animal. Contact would have been disastrous.
He then started a slow motion hop to the other side of the path.
And across the tyre tracks I had left behind.
If ever there was a moment of wonder in the brief interaction. This was it. The old boomer was huge and yet it disappeared into the short grass without a trace.
I often wake in the city with the movements of the old boomer. In a word, the productive side of me, goes rogue. It takes me forever to complete tasks, and there are times I don’t recognise who I am. But not so in the rural and remote areas where I find I am energised and bright eyed.
Having lost some of my business to budget cuts I have been busier trying to fill in the void with more business. I’m working in an unsettled and changing field where nothing comes guaranteed. It brings on a degree of stress I can do without but somehow I find the time and space to seek moments that nurture my spirit. Those precious moments give me the momentum to move forward.
I didn’t know this at the time when I reflected on this encounter, but kangaroos can only move forward, not backwards. There was a lesson in this encounter for me and I am happier for receiving it.
My wish for you today is that you find momentum that moves you forward.
Flying over the Pilbara mining region, north of Perth, Western Australia.One of my favourite summer fruits, the luscious raspberry.My young adults have turned vegan. The challenge for me today was to cook a vegan breakfast. I was surprised how easy it was to do and tasty, too.This is my daughter’s beautiful Embley, with her forever smile and tricolour coat that is so distinctive of Bernese Mountain dogs.A lily at my favourite hotel that always makes me stop for a moment or two no matter how busy I am.
Sunday is nearly over and a sense of celebration still in the air. My young adults visited with their dogs today. It is the first time in many months when it was just the three of us. I so enjoy their company but more so, observing the interactions between siblings. They always want to share what’s happening in their life with each other or stories about their latest visit with their father. There are some dynamics more joyful to observe than others. Today was one of those days when I listened and observed and it made my day.
“Count your blessings” was my mother’s favourite advice, especially when things were not going right. Embedded in the words was the focus on gratitude, joy and hope. I woke to this today.
Hope for me is the light we see in the darkest hour.
Pink is also the colour for hope. So on this glorious Sunday I offer, from garden to you, hope for a world that unites. Hope for a world that heals. Hope for a world where people care about each other and the environment.
I can’t think of a better vision as we approach the end of a challenging year.
A Shared Space 
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