#1993 Yin energy

We need to surround ourselves with feminine energy.

As a woman, it is intrinsic to our wellbeing. To our survival. To be able to motivate ourselves, go on and go on, reach higher and further than we ever thought possible… we need to surround ourselves with yin.

But… it has to be the right yin.

Find it in your mothers, your sisters and your daughters.

Find it in your cousins, colleagues, those you meet on the street that you connect with instantly.

Those that you see and go “YES!” I feel you.

Find it in your friends. In the friends that you’ve known for so long, the ones that there is no pause for breath, the friends that can support you and help you, leaving you feeling full to the brim with love, laughter and constant memories.

Today I felt supremely lucky that amidst all this recent lockdown business, we were still able to go out and celebrate a dear friend’s baby shower.

I think we were all super excited, you know, being out of the house and socialising. 🤣

But mostly, seeing the love growing from the depths of our friend’s belly. 💖💖

See these flowers? They look fragile, pretty and at the mercy of the lightest breeze.

Yet look deeper, and you find an inner, unshakeable strength, so strong that the harshest rains, winds and heat cannot shake it.

That is yin. That is feminine energy. Going with the flow, but standing strong and proud from within.

And I know how to tell if you’re with the right yin energy, the right people.

At the end if the day, you’re asking yourself –

“When can we do this again?”

And so we did.

“When will we do this again?”

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#1992 Sunset workout

It makes it a tad easier amidst all my huffing and puffing, and yelling “No that is not fun Rachael!” when I glimpse past the workout screen, to see the sky.

All aglow, orange, pink blended hues.

Romantic, pretty. A sign of lighter days ahead.

💖💖

“Believe you can and you are half way there.”

#1991 Path night lights

Hubbie fished out the outdoor path lights from the depths of the garage a week or so ago.

As we eagerly awaited nightfall to see the solar effect of it, we were wowed.

For cheapies, these were REALLY good.

Tonight, I got to walk the path as I went to pick up baby girl from gymnastics.

How good are they? I just love them.💖💖💡💡

#1990 Freedom in my car

Today, I got in my car.

I drove and drove.

On the freeways, it didn’t bother me.

$1 7/11 coffee beside me.

Then Prince came on, and soon the car was pumping Raspberry Beret.

I was happy, I was free.

Life after lockdown!

“That man is richest whose pleasures are cheapest.” – Henry David Thoreau.

Photo by Peter Fazekas on Pexels.com

#1989 The Pandora’s Box feedback

I had a consult today with a man from this publishing house.

It was regarding my manuscript that I had submitted for a competition a couple of months ago. Though I wasn’t on the short list of people who won the prize of professional development for their manuscript, I had purchased the feedback component where I got some positive and constructive thoughts on my YA work.

Before the session, I had been really idle, patiently waiting, not feeling any urge to re-work it or do anything proactive like that.

I was just watching the box, so calmly.

But after the consult? I felt like this:

The box had exploded! My mind was buzzing! More more more my body told me, the words and thoughts of the story and what I could do just whirring around in my mind, to the point that I had to sit right down and do something about it.

Enter draft #546, or something like that. 😂

I love the passion and resurgence of emotion that has awoken in me, and I sure as hell need it as I go through the work of re-drafting, yet again.

It may seem tedious to some, but as Liz Gilbert would say, it’s my flavour of shit sandwich.

#1987 The multicultural writing workshop

I was meant to attend this multicultural workshop today in person, but alas, COVID.

It had been rescheduled many times, and by the time today came I think the organisers felt we could all wait no more.

Put it online.

I had my tea ready, my writing tools, position by the window… check. ✔

We explored using a language other than English within our writing: whether that be a language we’ve lived with at home, a language we’ve inherited, or a language we’ve learned from living in another place. We experimented with techniques and read poetic examples of other writers who have dabbled in this method of the multilingual writer.

We had a couple of writing exercises too, and I wanted to share one of those with you. In exploring language, and what another language meant to us, and how it defined us… my memory led me to a perfect example.

My childhood example:

“My childhood can’t pinpoint the part at which I learnt to speak English or my ancestral tongue. They are both blended and merged, swirled together in a kaleidoscope of colours; mixed together like the Croatian walnut roll, ‘orehnjaca’ my Mum made. The walnut filling was a distinct layer, separate from the dough, and yet you couldn’t have one without the other. It was perfect as a whole.

Old footage has me at my third birthday, my mum and godmother encouraging me to repeat the words “spider, yuck” after someone had used a rubber spider to scare my arachnophobe sister, consequently scaring me too in the process. I repeated these words to the camera, my childlike voice coming out clearly tinged with the European dialect I was accustomed to.

In the next breath my godmother was laughing about my fear of “debeli kum” and she and my Mum broke up in unrestrained laughter. Spoken so I didn’t understand, but I knew precisely what they were saying – my “fat godfather” as they had coined him, who I was petrified of, perhaps not so much for his size, but for his warped German accent when he spoke Croatian, and his loud bellowing “mwa ha ha ha” laugh as he joined in on their laughter and teasing.”

Thanks for reading. 🙏

#1986 Saturday Night In no.9

Of course we were ‘in’, there was no place else to go!

We filled the house with home-made food, topped up our glasses, and then settled on the couch for song after song of our Saturday night lockdown ritual, the “music-fest.”

We take turns finding songs on youtube and blaring them. There are the ol’ faithfuls that come up regularly, i.e. Queen and The Weeknd, they may as well have beds made at our house…

But we keep the list ever-changing. A different performance here, another song some singer does, there.

Some notable tracks from tonight:

Amy Winehouse, singing Tears Dry on Their Own, live, because it was the 10 year anniversary of her death just yesterday.

Then a live number of Back to Black, because that song just gives us the feels, time and time again.

Queen (duh) at Wembley doing Lap of the Gods that turns into Seven Seas of Rhye.

Sia singing Chandelier live on Sunrise some years ago (she wears this insane multi-coloured almost mardi gras slash Eastern-inspired ensemble, must see.

Cold Chisel doing When the War is Over… also live (shit there was a definite theme tonight).

Prince doing his song, live… Nothing Compares to You. (And nothing compares to Prince singing this).

INXS at Wembley… singing several actually, but my favourite tonight was What You Need.

The MOST fun was when we turned the tunes to the 80s. When I found REO Speedwagon’s Can’t Fight This Feeling, Hubbie and I kinda lost our shit. 😂

This song is TOO MUCH FUN to not sing along to. Here are some lyrics that rhyme too much:

“And I can’t fight this feeling any-more

I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for

It’s time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, for-ever.

Oh My God. Sing this out loud, and try not to laugh. Couple that with the guy on the piano with the crazy moustache, and then the singer, who Hubbie aptly pointed out looks like a librarian…

🤣🤣🤣

Oh God. I’m done. Best sing-a-long ever.

(You’re gonna look for the mo guy now aren’t you? 🤣)

#1985 Leo season is here!

July 23rd baby, and ROAR.

Ok, so maybe a disinterested glance instead, or in my case, a mere squeeaaaakkkkk…

Either way, even if I’m tired right now, I’ll get my mane out in due course…

It’s only day 1. Plenty of time to work on my guttural sounds. 🦁

#1984 Home-school made easier

So the above is a bit of a fallacy, certainly in the minds and prayers and thoughts and screams of parents everywhere ALL over the world!

But, age does matter.

I’ve noticed anyway. If I compare last year’s lockdowns to this years ones (can’t believe I’m speaking in the plural for BOTH) baby girl has been able to apply herself independently to her learning this year, and seems to be getting better at it.

She’s more likely to try something on her own, is more confident in giving it a try without me there sitting next to her, and doesn’t kick up as much of a stink when there’s like a literacy online group session that she must attend.

And this makes my life easier, because instead of going from work from home, to then school from home…

I go from work from home, to… only a very tiny bit of school from home. 😂

And can I add… we both love Fridays.

Other than the obvious… they are device-free days. No set tasks, yes! 💪🙏