John Butler

See, it doesn't matter how old you are, some parts of your innate personality grow up and older with you. What's that got to do with John Butler? I love his music, I love his choice of living, I love his honesty and integrity and the sense of freedom I feel when I listen to his music.

So.......when I found out he was playing live, I knew I wanted to see him regardless of any obstacles. Found that his concert was sold out in Melbourne and that's where the gypsy in me surfaced and said, "Let's go to him then".....and that's how and why we ended up going to Adelaide.

John Butler encompasses a lot of what I'd like to be like, not so much the activist kinda of thing but more that he KNOWS what he's about and what he stands for. As for me, I'm a lemming in a can.....a salmon that swims with all the other salmons ......and I hate that about me. I don't have that motivation and drive to be something bigger and stronger because, quite frankly, I don't feel strongly enough about any particular issue......and I wish I did.

We're running out of water? *shrug* Okay, I won't shower so much anymore. No big deal. So we're making our ozone layer thinner? *shrugs*... Tell me what I have to do, to do my part.....whatever. Sounds apathetic, doesn't it? I'm just not moved at my inner core about this stuff.......and I wish I was.

Yet when I'm faced with someone passionate, like John Butler, my eyes sparkle and my ears twitch and my breathing changes because I get excited about their passion and enthusiasm. I latch onto their enthusiasm purely for the way it makes me feel, not for the cause.

What DOES make me feel alive is hitting the road. I've always loved being out there on a highway, driving to parts known or unknown and feeling that unique sense of freedom of leaving all responsibilities behind. I love the clean, sometimes dusty, fresh, sometimes hot air and that, for that space and time, I'm there. That feeling of discovery, new roads, new paths, new scenery, new people to meet, new and different experiences.

So heading off to Adelaide satisfied the gypsy that stirs beneath and needs to be let out. I loved having the freedom to get up and go......which is what I did. I got up and went! And I drove and drove, me, my son and my music.....my choices and my dodgy sense of direction.

They say it isn't the destination but the journey that counts. If John Butler was anything to go by then I'd have to agree. The cabbie took us to the wrong arena - THAT was still being built, the wally.....so my outwardly vocal agitation helped him with his new sense of direction taken from the ticket butt.

There was something very magical about being there, front row, looking up at JB. It wasn't just about the music or the atmosphere. It was about me feeling very smug about making real what was really a verbally flippant desire to Alison and Katherine at work. I remember saying it would be wonderful to just take off to Adelaide to see John Butler .......... and there we were, we'd made the reverie tangible and that satisfied, smug "I did it!" feeling was .....well....satisfying.

I can do anything I want to. All I have to do is put my first foot forward towards it and then keep doing that......and suddenly I'm there.

I love spontaneity and impromptu and unpredictable and implusive and impetuous......all those feelings that make you feel like you've stepped out of the box and really licked life up the side of its face.

That's what John Butler has come to mean to me.

New Revelations, New Beginnings

I guess there comes a time, in every parent's life, when you realise that the umbilical cord you've been protecting and nurturing since its beginnings, in full knowledge that at some stage in the future will have to be severed, has come.

My roadtrip to Adelaide was thus. Initially, it was just a roadtrip to see John Butler - just me and Adam. Adam and I bond over music, that's one of our connections and we both love John Butler. Still pandering to the youthfulness still alive and well within my slowly maturing body, I gave into the little voice - we've discussed Other Shaz prior - and said what the heck, let's go!

Now, in my reckoning and from past experience when speed limits were purely a gauge to try and follow and not really a legal requirement, Adelaide was only about 8 hours away. We'd done it in 8 hours before so....... Well........ it took us 10.5 hours to get there and that was doing 110 kms per hour and stopping 3 times, each for 20 minutes. LOOOOONG and uneventful drive it was. Loooooong and dry and dusty with nary a view to keep you awake and alert. Like a Hanna Barbera cartoon background that just keeps repeating itself, so was the scenery from Melbourne to Adelaide via the inland highway.....

Skimming over the absolute wonderment and awe-inspiring performance of John Butler, which I will regale you with in another post, the trip opened my eyes to so many things serendipitously.

One, my son hates long trips and becomes quite restless and grumpy. Restless I can deal with but grumpy jarred me. Given we were both unwitting hostages in the little red metal container hurtling down the freeways and highways of a dry and barren country, it was difficult to adjust to this grizzly person next to me.

Second, I think I've stretched the umbilical cord to capacity and now it's time to let my children free by bungy jumping them out of the post-uteral safety of childhood using said cord to help break the fall.

Alex and my relationship had already come to the destination a few months ago when we both realised that, as much as we really love each other and care for each other, we cannot express this love and caring under the same roof. However, I thought Adam still had a ways to go......but this roadtrip put a different canvas in front of me and the painting that was created was not the one I thought I was looking at.

It's time for both my children to embrace the adult world for all it's benefits and consequences. I had hoped for a more gentle metamorphosis but like all butterflies experience, morphing involves a little bit of discomfort and pain prior to the emerging beauty of another being.

This heralds a new beginning in my life. I am still their mother - I always will be. However, my role is now changing and I can now feel that shift - sometimes it comes like a sledgehammer, sometimes it flutters near my cheek like a soft butterfly kiss.

It's a double-edged sword really. With this new change comes a welcome sense of newfound freedom. This marks a new phase where I get to have some, if not all, of me back. I get to have the freedom to go and do whatever I want, whenever I want.

They say be careful what you pray for, you just might get it.

That is the other side of the sword because along with this sense of freedom accompanies a void inside where a vivacious, bubbly little girl with black luscious curls and a quiet, reserved little boy used to be. They needed and wanted Mummy and this room was born, deep within my heart, to house all the lovely little things that we experienced. That room's still there, only now it feels a little empty. The curtains fly with the soft warm breezes that memories create and the furniture still has the dents of where they used to sit. The door's ajar......I'm not sure if they're coming back or not. Something tells me they may return just for a visit. Something also tells me it's time to renovate this room for them when they do.

I look at new parents who long for rest and a little bit of their old freedom. I say hold onto these days. As tiring and frustrating as it appears to be, there will be a day when your child won't come and snuggle on your lap for comfort. There'll come a day when they won't turn to you to rescue them (nor should they). There will come a day when you will see them as entirely separate beings to you, not a part of you and their father........

It's like watching a ship that you have been building for years and years and years, lovingly and carefully, using the best materials you could afford and using the best skills you have learnt, peacefully sail away. You've done your best and you hope the ship sails well but a part of you feels like it was safer on dry dock. But that's not where life is and that's not what the ship was built for.

I'm standing on a cliff, watching my ships negotiate their way through rocks and storms and every fibre in my being wants to jump on board and steer for them. However, I can only watch, arms folded across my chest, and hope and pray.........

In the quietude that remains, I remember with a moaning little pain in my heart, all those lovely little times when bubbles were splashed up the wall in the bathroom accompanied with squeals and peals of laughter........of Grandad chasing you around our house and you running right up onto my lap and over on top of my shoulders for protection......of the times I bit you because I loved you, loved you, loved you so so much (still do).

All those and many million more memories flutter around that empty little room, deep inside me and I'm filled with gratitude for ever having experienced them in the first place......and the longing that goes with wanting to have that day back again, to feel your soft, warm little bodies back in my arms again.

New year, New Something

Well, last year? Tick.....done. Achieved most of my goals so I'm quite happy really.

This year/ kinda run out of goals........or imagination, one of the two. I want so desperately to improve my photography and do new things. I want to get out and about. I want to renovate my house as it really needs it now. I want, I want, I want.....

Lots to be grateful for, lots of stuff still in the 'yearning and longing' box.

This week, I'm going to Adelaide with my son. The drive there is long and there will be plenty of time to draw a skeleton of what I want this year to look like. I don't to repear last year only older, you with me?

I need new ledges to climb, new branches to crawl out to.....keeps me alert and alive.

get back you once I have these down pat and we'll take it from there, okay?

Love Shaz
XXXX

Things I know for sure

While doing some reading of the Oprah kind (oh, bite me...), I realised that some of the things she knows for sure are things I, too, know and then there are things that I've discovered on the special path of Shaz. Here goes:



I KNOW THAT:

1. What you put out comes back all the time, no matter what. (I really, really beleive this one!)


2. Hot drinks should not be filled to the brim in a thermos (or else they explode and make a BIG mess).


3. Failure is a signpost to turn you in another direction.


4. Trust your instincts. Intuition doesn't lie.


5. Being a mother is the hardest job on earth.


6. Being creative is one thing but dates and bean shoots are revolting in an omelette.


7. Doubt means don't. Don't move. Don't answer. Don't rush forward.


8. Trouble don't last always.


9. This, too, shall pass.


10. Don't be scared to try the road less travelled. It is better in a 4WD drive, however.


11. Bacon IS food of the gods.


12. The moment between the time that you press your lips to a much-anticipated cup of coffee and the realisation that someone replaced the sugar with salt........is heaven and hell all rolled into one.


13. That the geeky, nerdy IT role-playing Star-Wars-loving guy will actually become your husband and, ultimately, the deepest love of your life.


14. Answering the work phone with "1-800-SPANK-ME" will not guarantee you job security.


15. When the going gets tough, the rocks come to the surface while the wood sinks to the bottom. (I KNOW this one really well, too!)


16. The only true biological relationship that exists in family begins with the heart.


17. If you KNOW coconut doesn't agree with you, constantly challenging it doesn't change the outcome.

My Samoa

I've talked about this a fair bit on Facebook and, I guess, it's my way of purging the storm that's going on inside me. Some of you may pass this off as melodramatic and over the top but this is what's inside me.

The tsunami and earthquake that hit Samoa last week has affected me more than any other natural disaster. It has taken my natural joy and hidden it behind a big cloud of pain for the time being. I've travelled around a fair bit of the world and I've not been touched by any of the countries as much as I've been touched by Samoa and it's people.

How do I draw a picture of the most gracious and gentle people to you? How can I open my heart and show you each fingerprint of the many hearts that gave and gave to me and my family and friends without expecting one thing back in return?

If honesty was a place and truth and integrity had a map, then it would be Samoa. The breezes are gentle, the waves that lap their shores are soothing and nurturing, the constant sunshine heals and no matter where you are, there is a silent yet subtle gentle breathing in and breathing out, like the rhythm of a gentle tide.

So to have nature wreak this violence on this beautiful Pacific island and it's gorgeous people is inexplicable. It leaves you with the feeling that you want to say so much but no words are sufficient enough.....I am bewildered. I am shocked. I am hurting for those people who have lost so much. I am hurting for the memory of a very special time in my life.

I'm hurting for the damage, physical and psychological that these people are enduring and I'm frustrated because I just want to pack up and fly to them - to help feed, to help soothe, to just help......and all my earthly responsibilities say that I have to look after my own family before I look after someone else's. Yet my heart knows that my own family will sleep in a warm bed with their bellies full. That I know they are safe and warm...and free from harm and danger. yet so many mother's are too shocked to mour the loss of their children - that they expect them to return any minute now with the kidnapping tide. That parents missing will turn the next corner, batter and bruised, but alive...... that homes will suddenly be back to where they once were and life can move on as it did last week and the week before.

Samoans have a very special respect and connection with the sea. The sea is their mother and provider and nurterer. It has a life of its own and has always provided.....and now the very spirit of nature has suddenly turned on them and destroyed all that they value. Samoans are not (yet) commercial or fixated on money, things, cars, jewellery and the like. Samoans love and treasure family and God. It is their way - it is fa'a. The Samoan way.

Homes can be rebuilt and furniture rebought. Faith can be restored but family stolen by an angry tide will never come home........and invisible places at the family table will never be filled.

I sit in my comfortable home, miles and miles away from this tragedy but my heart is there, dredging through rubble for lost souls, for skerricks of memories that will help put their lives back together again. My tears are with those mothers who had their young babies ripped from their arms by the strength of Mother Nature.

I think about Samoa every single moment of the day and I am grateful for what I have. But.....it means nothing really. I have my family and I've told each of them how much I love and value them since this has happened.

Grant and I chose Samoa to get married because we loved the 'vibe' that we got when we did our research. It's not Bali and it's not Fiji and we thanked God for that. It's fruits and gifts were natural, from the heart, from blood, sweat and toil....where the intabgible things were valued more than what you could get for it. We'd never been to Samoa.....we didn't know anyone who had been. It was untouched by commercialism and the dodgy hand of tourism. It attracted a different clientele......although elements of this were starting to show and, I guess, in time Samoa would become Fiji and Bali.

But not while we were there.....not what we experienced. Samoa seemed to 'be' what lay in my heart. It had wide open honesty and truthfulness. It was simple and happy.....grateful for simple things like food, water and family.

We sat and watched a man describe the beauty of the coconut. Ordinarily we would laugh at this in our "developed country" way but the way he described it, made me feel awe that he could live out of the fruits of one coconut palm tree. He described how the trunk and fronds made his home and roof, the coconut provided food and drink and afterwards, it was a bowl for his meal and when that was finished, it became fuel for the next day's cooking needs. He was still grateful that he was so lucky to have the humble coconut be the provider of ever single item of life that he needed. The hollowed trunk would become his boat when he needed to fish......the coconut oil for his cooking......the flesh for food. The husky coir of the coconut was made into clothing and ticking for mattresses.

How foolish did I feel after he had demonstrated all the many things he could fashion out of one simple tree that was so plentiful on his beautiful island? Why, then, would he want Adidas or Nike or anything else superficial? He has the perfect world. He lives next to a waterfall and is 100% self-sufficient but most of all, he is contentedly happy and what I would do to be able to have his simplicity.

I could write the many, many things about Samoa and I could paint a serene canvas of swaying palm trees and the distant sounds of waves crashing on a white sandy beach with the imaginary and sometimes not-so-imaginary sounds of Samoan men playing their guitars and ukeleles, singing in perfect harmony....... and that would be the first page of my album but there is so much more ........and these things are the smells and sounds and feelings that only people who have gone there will know.

It is these things that have been taken away right now.......the soothing sounds of waves crashing on a distant shore now elicits fear and that was one thing we didn't have in Samoa. Fear. We were the most relaxed while we were there.

I guess like a lot of people, especially those who have had destination weddings, Samoa is so beautiful to me for the sights, sounds, smells of my beautiful wedding to the most wonderful man in my world. The before and during and after of our special day lingers every day of my life. Not one day goes by without me going back to a moment or a song or an experience....

I guess the thing that feels like a sharp arrow entering my ribs is that all the Samoans I met and dealt with were happy in the purest sense......just always, always happy and at peace and it was so contagious. And now they're not so happy nor are they peaceful....and this is one of the main things that distinguish them from any race I have encountered.

Every single one of us has made a special contact with a soul, a spirit, a person, a place that we have felt a deep connection with - regardless of the time spent there. For me it is Grant.....and together, we have this with Samoa.

If every beautiful thought I have now sends a butterfly affect around the world back to them, then I will continue to send beautiful thoughts and prayers of love and strength directly to Samoa.

Samoa, oute alofa ia oe......

Like a beacon, dragging me to safety

In pitch dark I go walking in your landscape
Broken branches trip me as I speak.
Just 'cause you feel it doesn't mean its there.

There's always a siren
Singing you to shipwreck (Don't reach out, don't reach out Don't reach out, don't reach out)

Steer away from these rocks
We'd be a walking disaster (Don't reach out, don't reach out Don't reach out, don't reach out)
Just 'cause you feel it doesn't mean its there. (Theres someone on your shoulder)

There there!Why so green and lonely? Heaven sent you to me to me to me

We are accidents waiting ..................waiting to happen.

Poem to Shaz from G on our 1st Wedding Anniversary

A gentle word like a spark of light,
Illuminates my soul
And as each sound goes deeper,
It's YOU that makes me whole

There is no corner, no dark place,
YOUR LOVE cannot fill
And if the world starts causing waves,
It's your devotion that makes them still

And yes you always speak to me,
In sweet honesty and truth
Your caring heart keeps out the rain,
YOUR LOVE, the ultimate roof

So thank you my Love for being there,
For supporting me, my life
I'll do the same for you, you know,
My Beautiful, Darling Wife.

1st Wedding Anniversary

It's June already. I am a few weeks away from celebrating our 1st Wedding Anniversary. This time, last year, we had our suitcases open and we were on the cusp of leaving for Samoa. I would do anything to turn back the hands of time to do it all over again.

Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of a wedding photo and I can't believe we actually did it! Some days I catch a sideways glance at Grant and I can't believe he is my husband.

I'm a very reflective and retrospective person. I look back on life a lot. I think about the girl at school and whether she would have envisaged this life at all and I'm guessing she didn't. I'm not 100% sure what she had in plan really. I used to wonder about the Year 2000 and thought I'd be married with children and sure enough I was....barely married. Trying to keep our marriage going, pushing it uphill when all it wanted to do was take it's natural course downslide.

Boredom from housework drove me to a part-time job at Monash Uni. Not that the job was any more exciting but it gave me something to distract me at any rate. Who would have thought that this job would take me on a different path, one I had not planned.

My computer broke and he was the Techie who came to fix it. No fireworks, no rainbows.......just a very calm, reassuring soul with two massive dimples walked in my door. I felt an immediate connection with him although it wasn't romantic at that stage. I liked being around him. I felt calm myself and relaxed......we made friends and chatted through ICQ. Just chatted, about life, about the Universe......and this went on for two years. Neither of us was remotely interested in each other aside from being friends and that's just what we were. We were friends. I trusted him.

I'm not sure when the connection started to become more than that. I think it was around the time that I started confiding him that all was not well with my marriage and he was always there with an available ear or shoulder, having gone through a relationship breakdown himself. In jest, I had tried matching him up with a few girls but it never quite came to fruition. he was so half-hearted about it and never really seemed motivated enough to want someone in his life. He told me he had 'gone fishing' and wasn't interested.

We met for coffee in Borders. We laughed a lot and shared a large slice of chocolate mudcake with white icing lovehearts dusted on the top. It was either that or the custard tart or the flourless orange cake and I don't like orange. we mooched around the CDs and around the books, we had coffee. It was the most relaxed I'd felt in years.

I didn't need to 'be' anyone with him. I didn't have to be witty or charming or fun or anything other than just Sharon .........and maybe that was it. I can't remember what we talked about.....stuff and nonsense. By the end of that night, when I dropped him home, I knew something was stirring inside me but thought better of lifting the envelope flap and quietly drove the 60 kms home, happy within myself that I'd spent the evening with a good friend.

When my marriage had come to it's close, he was there totally in his capacity as my friend, to make sure that I would be okay, that I would be able to move forward. Not once did he make a move or hint that he would like anything more than just friendship and it was because of that, that I relaxed with him totally.

He started sending out subtle signs and clues that he had feelings but I wasn't sure if I was reading them right. So I asked him and he admitted it and said he didn't want to rush me as I was just coming out of a long relationship. I admitted that I felt something - just wasn't sure what it was as my emotions were being tumbledried at that moment. So he waited and we eased ourselves into whatever it was going to be. He didn't rush me and I didn't walk into faster than my comfort zone let me.

Now, nearly 10 years later, we're married! I still feel the most relaxed when I'm with him and I still feel like I can just be me. He makes no judgements and.......he makes me laugh. Sure, we have our moments (when he's an idiot....hahahaha), like every couple but the biggest difference with him from every man I've ever met and known is that he will not escalate the argument. He says what he has to say and then, always, reminds me that he loves me.

Grant brings me back down to earth. He also lets me fly and sometimes, he'll even come fly with me.

When we first got together, some people on my side were brazen enough to tell me to my face, "He's a great guy but he's nothing like what you're normally attracted to, is he?"......or....."He's awfully quiet. Do you think he's the guy for you?"

Nearly 10 years and 1 gorgeous wedding down the track? Yes, he is!! He is not the type of man I would normally be attracted to (and yet I am)......and yes, he is quiet.........and YES YES YES, he IS the guy for me!

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood,

and I.....

I took the one less travelled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Things I Would Seriously Like To Do To People Who Piss Me Off

I tried doing this on Facebook but it was too cumbersome so here it is.

My sister and I were chatting online today and we were discussing what we'd like to do to people who seriously piss us off and we accumulatively came up with the following list:

• Cut a raw onion and glue it under the desk of the varmint who is irritating you at work and wait for the smell to permeate. It is a very difficult smell to remove once it is present. *hahahahaha*...
• Dress in camouflage gear and sneak up to your neighbour, who is playing music way too LOUD at 5am, and rip out the main fuse and sneak back home.
• Turn the Gerni super high powered water hose on the same neighbour the following Monday morning as he is getting in his car to go to work.
• Buy weed killer and inscribe the word "C*NTZ" on their front lawn.
• Battery acid on the bonnet of their car - as above.
• Throw prawn heads in their ducted heating or air conditioning vents.
• Glue kitchen utensils to their windscreen wipers
• Glue their windscreen wipers to their windscreen (HAHAHAHAHAHA.....I love my sister for this one!!)
• Turn their water mains off and pour quick drying cement over it.
• Club them with a baseball bat full of nails and rusty catfood tin lids embedded
• Put a live match-head into every single cigarette that they smoke.
• Fill their exhaust pipes with 1000s and 1000s of caps and then wedge a banana in it. (What does that do?)
• Stir their coffee with a used condom
• Pooh in their desk and say "Who farted??" everytime you walk by...
• Put toothpaste in their haemorrhoid cream tube.

CAAAAARM ONNNNNN! TAKE US ON!!!

I DARE YA!!

When My Words Get Lost, My Pictures Will Tell You Where I Am

When my body is tight with the constant breathing in and holding my breath in life, I think of you............and I remember to exhale.

The Lighthouse Song

And I've been getting urges late at night

To walk and walk for days and throughout lights

Through people's houses, picking food from plates

Through people's gardens, picking locks on gates

So we are moving to a lighthouse, you and I

While seas drown sailors, we'll be locked up safe and dry

And though our doors may knock and rattle in the wind

I'll just hold you tight and we'll not let those fuckers in

And I've been leaving gifts out in the woods

That someone might stumble upon and wonder at their origins

I've been feeling like a fox with sad old eyes

Whose skulk has all moved on to leave the dark and empty den behind

So we are moving to a lighthouse, you and I

While seas drown sailors, we'll be locked up safe and dry

And though our doors may knock and rattle in the wind

I'll just hold you tight and we'll not let those fuckers in

I'll anull these little walls of attrition and these invocations

That's seen me holding my camera out at arms length

To self-document these new locations

When I should be leaning against you

Deciding on things to get done

And you should be leaning on fountains

And filling my space up and breathing the air from my lungs

So we are moving to a lighthouse, you and I

While seas drown sailors, we'll be locked up safe and dry

And we are moving to a lighthouse, you and I

Our beams will burn the clouds to beacons in the sky

And though our doors may knock and rattle in the wind

The wind...I'll just hold you tight and we'll not let those fuckers in

A Thing of Beauty Is a Joy Forever

Nothing is more sensual or erotically beautiful than a kiss.

How you kiss.......how you enjoy sharing or giving or accepting a kiss.....that pinpointed moment you feel the electricity of skin on skin, eyes closed as you enter another realm in darkness of touch and you abandon yourself to another person is one of the most beautiful moments you will ever experience in life.

A peck on the cheek won't do it, or a quick smack on the lips won't do it.

A kiss is like speaking an entirely different language altogether. It says so much in silence.

Not everyone can speak it but God Bless those who do.

Like the heated rush of a potent drug racing through your veins to a central destination that opens up another world or worlds upon worlds, another place, another realm, a beautifully executed kiss can open up cells of tingling cells in spirits of cells.......

Slow, languishing, lingering kisses, connecting souls .......like a gateway to an inner sanctum, a locked space of red and velvet and warmth and bliss.

As precious and rare as a black diamond, it should be treated with the gentle and delectable fragility that it deserves and handed out to only those who truly value its beauty and ecstasy.

A beautiful kiss is a rare, exotic thing and should be valued for the treasure that it is.

I value every single beautifully gifted and shared kiss that I have ever received like a rare piece of art.

A shiver.....skin tingling even at the memory.......it is the most private and intimate thing and yet beautiful and open thing you can express.

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

How I feel has nothing to do with how much I have

Money has no memory. Experience has.

You will never know what the total cost of your education was, but for a lifetime you will recall and relive the memories of schools and colleges.

Few years from now, you will forget the amount you paid to settle the hospitalization bill, but will ever cherish having saved your mother's life or the life you get to live with the just born.

You won't remember the cost of your honeymoon, but to the last breath remember the experiences of the bliss of togetherness.

Money has no memory. Experience has.

Good times and bad times, times of prosperity and times of poverty, times when the future looked so secure and times when you didn't know from where the tomorrow will come… life has been in one way or the other a roller-coaster ride for everyone.

Beyond all that abundance and beyond all that deprivation, what remains is the memory of experiences. Sometimes the wallet was full… sometimes even the pocket was empty.

There was enough and you still had reasons to frown. There wasn't enough and you still had reasons to smile.

Today, you can look back with tears of gratitude for all the times you had laughed together, and also look back with a smile at all the times you cried alone.

All in all, life filled you with experiences to create a history of your own self, and you alone can remember them all.

The first time you balanced yourself on your cycle without support…
The first time she said 'yes' and it was two years since you proposed…
The first cry… the first steps… the first word… the first kiss… all of your child…
The first gift you bought for your parents and the first gift your daughter gave you…
The first award… the first public appreciation… the first stage performance…
And the list is endless…

Experiences, with timeless memory… No denying that anything that's material cost money, but the fact remains the cost of the experience will be forgotten, but the experience never.

So, what if it's economic recession?

Let it be, but let there not be a recession to the quality of your life. You can still take your parents, if not on a pilgrimage, at least to the local temple.

You can still play with your children, if not on an international holiday, at least in the local park.

It doesn't cost money to lie down or to take a loved one onto your lap.

Nice time to train the employees, create leadership availability and be ready for the wonderful times when they arrive.

Hey! Aspects like your health, knowledge development and spiritual growth are not economy dependent.

Time will pass… economy will revive… currency will soon be in current… and in all this, I don't want you to look back and realize you did nothing but stayed in gloom.

Recession can make you lose out on money. Let it not make you lose out on experiences…

If you are not happy with what you have, no matter how much more you have, you will still not be happy.

Make a statement with the way you live your life:

How I feel has nothing to do with how much I have.

Yesterday I Cried

Well, suffice to say that I probably had one of the worst days yesterday that I've experienced for a while. Do you ever have one of those days where everything you do/say/consider just turns to shite? No rhyme, no reason.......just crumbles to dried dog doo doo? Well, yesterday was my day.


It started with daylight really and went progressively downhill. Part of me wants to discuss it but part of me has started to bury the facts and discussing it would be an act of exhuming the dead on my part and maybe some things are left buried.

However, let me say this much. Yesterday was a prick of a day. Everything went pear-shaped on me......home, work, sky, sea - you name it, it was poohfaced. I held back tears all day at work when what I really wanted to do was throw myself up against the glass window and scream like a raving banshee. I wanted to vent, to have a meltdown, to throw a tanty hissy fit.......of course, it would have been a fairly career limiting move (CLM) but you don't think of those things when you're blue-printing your hissy fit (refer to Other Shaz, who was daring and poking and prodding me to do my best Linda Blair at work).

The finer details of what was pushing me to my edge is really not important because, truth be told, they still exist today. However, how I was internally reacting is more the point.

I bundled paranoia, hypersentivity, anger and a touch of bitterness into one evil cocktail that I didn't sip on - I knocked it back like a shot. Through those bloodshot cracked eyeglasses did I see the world for the rest of the day.

Today's port mortem leaves me in the emotional aftermath of feeling hurt, unloved, unwanted and all those silly girl feelings. Funnily enough, this doesn't have much to do with my husband despite sounding like it does.

It started at work, was perpetuated at work and then bled to the rest of my life - yesterday.

I took a bullet to my confidence and that unbalanced me to the point where I questionned my choices, my actions, my options, life, the universe etc.

Now the things that upset me yesterday are still there today but, with a little clarity and calmness, I'm feeling less nutso about it.

But yesterday, I came home after a long and tiring day............and I cried.

Age, Mine and Everyone Else's

You know I've never been one to obsess with my age - not sure why. It's not something that bears much importance to the choices I make or the way I lead my life. It's a number, people! It's just a number.... it's a chronological measure of how many rings I would have had around my trunk if I was a tree........

I mean really....think about this.....how is 21 years supposed to look or feel like? How old is 40 meant to feel like or be like? compared to what? When someone says "I feel old" - who decrees what old is meant to feel like.

I am 45 years old.

What does that mean? Does that mean I'm old so I should start behaving old and doing old things? Should I suddenly behave a certain way or feel a certain way? Should I start to slow down because that's what's decreed? Should I start listening to Perry Como on Sunday afternoons? Should I not feel alive and alert and youthful anymore?

I was at a 'do' lately when the topic of conversation turned to how old everyone looked. In my own little head, where most of my interesting conversations take place, Other Shaz and I laughed. "How old does she look?" Other Shaz said...."How old is she meant to look?" The topic bored me because it was inconsequential. I'm older than you and someone is older than me and then what......? *silence*..... Why this obsession about age? It's not like you can change it - you can change your appearance to look younger but you're still your age, aren't you? So who ya fooling then?

A compliment ......"Shaz, you don't look 45" so what does 45 look like, I wonder. I appreciate the intention of the compliment/sentiment but I would prefer someone to say that they've noticed how funnier I am getting or how my photos make them feel because I have control over that. I can increase my skillset and do better......but I cannot get any younger, folks. Surprise!!

I live every day like I feel and some days I feel energetic or bouncy or bubbly and other days I feel low and quiet and that's how I feel on that day. I don't ever think to myself "You can't/can do that because you're 45" or whatever age I've been. If I want to do it, I just do.

Isn't that what life is about?

I met a friend this week who is one day older than I am. She made mention that she is now old so she cut her hair short and implied that her life choices had changed. It made me wonder why.......who said you can or can't do anything at an age.

Sure.....I know what you're thinking....Mutton dressed up as lamb? It's not about the way I dress - although I still heed my cry that what dictates what I can or can't wear. Shouldn't it be a matter of wearing what suits me best?

Listening to the young 'uns at work worrying about turning 30.....eeeeeek....NOT 30?????? I'm a whole 15 years older and have filled each nook and cranny with stuff I wanted to do. I don't worry about age creeping up because each subsequent year is yet another opportunity to experience something new.......to feel, to be, to do.....not to stress and worry about what's left.

It's about what's yet to do.

It's like the eternal search for happiness - where do you find that, I wonder? I think it's in the same place where my attitude about my date of birth is.......somewhere where it just doesn't matter.

I think my closest friends are women who don't give a fat rat's about their age and we have the most fun because we just be and we just do. I wouldn't swap them for an extra 10 years because they're gold!

One rides her Harley beast and does road trips often on it - and she's a Mum - so what does that mean?

My Aunty is trekking South America right as I type and she is retirement age but you wouldn't know it because she is bursting with the dynamic energy of a woman who doesn't place any weight around her date of birth - inspirational!

One is beginning her PhD when most others are winding down, she is winding up......and bully for her! *click champagne glass*

Yet another is changing her career and is about to embark on a career that is mainly associated with vibrant young things and she IS a vibrant, young thing.....and she's in her early 40's.

I think your attitude governs the way you look and if you can keep your humour and maintain that glint in your eye and have fun with life, it shows. How old are you then, when you've fitted two lifetimes into one.......

Space and Time

It's been a few days since I've written anything but.....I've been out there *pointing out there* having a life and that's been really wonderful.

I've finally enrolled to do short potography courses and finished the portrait course, which was bluddy great. I'm starting the landscape course and if I really enjoy these, I think I might consider doing something more substantial.

I am still studying financial planning as well so God only knows where all this time is going to be found.

Me and a few friends also went to see Complexions Contemporary Ballet last night and that was a whole heap of goody goodness.

I've not been home a helluva lot this week and I have to say that the body isn't holding up quite the way it used to. I am tuckered out and am looking forward to a quiet night on the couch, watching footy with my son.

Truth, Honesty and Integrity

It will remain a mystery to me why we choose to be dishonest or disloyal or display acts of manipulation. Why do we choose to do this?

I like people and I like the finer aspects of humanity that make me proud to be who I am. Yet, time and time again, I come across people who choose to be disloyal to me or dishonest to me when I afford them my best. Why does this happen?

It's not a reflection of me, surely. In all things with me, I try as much as I can, to afford every person I meet the gift of truth, honesty and integrity and it never ceases to amaze me when it's not returned.

No names mentioned but I've experienced a side of someone that I really don't care much for. They have been sneaky, deceptive and manipulative and then.......have had the gall to act innocent. Luckily, it's not someone in my inner circle so putting space between myself and them isn't going to be that difficult but, in my quiet moments, I've done the post mortem and wondered what is it about me that has elicited this behaviour.

I've worked out that this is who they are..........and it's not a reflection of me.

Makes me very sad, though......

Shrove Tuesday

Pancakes!!!!!

Challenging Times

So far, this year has started out pretty dang crap for my family and friends. We've had two announcements of serious illness this last week, another life threatening surgery took place and now......the place we used to live in is under siege with bushfires. My children's Dad is smackdab in the middle of it all, packed and ready to leave if the wind changes ready to devour his property. Alex's car is in the middle of the paddock for protection but there's no guarantee it won't be swallowed by flames if luck and life change direction.

I don't want to elaborate on any of these but it doesn't take much for these tears to fall right now. Even breathing in can evoke so much sadness that I'm doing the dance of the distracted mind. But it's hard.......and this isn't even about me. It's about those close to me and what they're bearing up for.

I can't stand to see loved ones in pain and it seems that every corner of my family compass is suffering right now.

Modern Art (Latin for Whatta Loada Crappicus)

Modern Art.......or as I prefer to call it.........Whatticus A Load of Crappicus (latin translation).

We went to a Museum for Modern Art in Melbourne Metropole today - to try something new - and I may not be a connoisseur of modern art (or for any art aside from finger painting, truth be know'd) but I came away very angry. Apparently art is meant to elicit a reaction from you and if that's the only requirement then the collection of crap that G and I witnessed today would more than qualify.

There were items by 2 well-known artists that were......well.....juvenile. My children could have produced better in grade school. The fact that they may have been signed by these famous artists does not automatically qualify it as art. To me, it means that a well-known artist had a couple of attempts at what is now known as famous art only now they got it right. So does that mean all the previous attempts get bundled up and passed off as art to a less-erudite public. You have insulted me!!

There was a couple of items that were better - possibly even good - but the rest was just a set of objet d'don't insult me.

It seems like an act of sycophantic dealers flagrantly exercising their nepotistic rights to show juvenile and unworthy pieces of dog doo doo. I left the museum feeling ripped off, offended and taken advantage of.

To top it all off, they had the gall to ask me to remove my camera backpack before entering, which I refused to do on the grounds that it contained expensive camera equipment which I wasn't willing to leave behind in an alcove. So after I asked them if they would accept responsibility for any damage or loss if I chose to leave it behind, they followed me like I was an intellectually challenged art thief.

LIKE I WOULD WANT TO STEAL THAT CRAP????????