#846 Finding myself, Mind Body and Spirit

It seemed like we wouldn’t make it.

We were meant to go to the festival yesterday, but then, shit happened. I got sick. I’d mentioned to my sister that I may stop by the Mind, Body and Spirit Expo on my way home from work today, but even then as I struggled with my sinuses this morning, the sense of weakness overcoming me, that reality seemed far from probable.

Even so, when she said she was eager to come and meet me there…

Suddenly my symptoms eased. Funny how that happens when something interesting is around the corner.

I truly think this festival is going to become our thing. We attended together years ago on her actual birthday, and we shopped ’til we dropped. Man, we have a photo we coaxed someone into taking of the two of us, and our hands were full of bags. Bags bags bags.

It’s almost hilarious when you put two women together who are on similar but yet very differing missions. We started off together, supporting each other at each stall:

“Just ask him – get him to spray that turmeric on your hair.”

“I don’t like his tone of voice.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll drink that shot of beetroot juice with you.”

But, overwhelmed with the colourful stalls, lights, crystals and energy-healing spiritual folk all around us, we soon amicably parted ways to discover the secrets of the soul, solo.

Bags weren’t so much on my agenda this time. Sure I got a few things, but something else was calling me.

IMAG1300

I’d been toying with the idea of getting a psychic reading since I knew we were going. I walked past the large psychic reading area, and decided on a whim, I must do it.

I’ve never done it before. Had any part of my future or otherwise told to me..  if you’re not counting my late aunty reading my coffee and beans. That’s another story for another day.

IMAG1298

But I sat there, awaiting my turn, before going to meet the chap himself. His name was Peter, he looked like a regular outback Aussie, and with his relaxed and friendly nature he put me immediately at ease.

As he said from the outset… there were no straight yes’ or nos. He laid out cards for me, whereas really I would have liked for him to tap into the spiritual universe… but that would be for another time. I concentrated on two specific things in my life, and shuffled the decks twice accordingly, before he presented it all out to me in the drawing of them.

I’m still working it all out in my head. Life is complicated – the cards match that. I’ve even drawn myself a little diagram so I can study it further. But still, what did I take away from it all?

We have the ultimate final say in all that we do. The cards may present to us one thing presently, but our actions can change that at any time. We are in charge.

The power lies within me.

He accurately pinpointed that I think too much – I’m always as he put it, “in my head.”

And he posed a rhetorical question to me, that was so unbelievably spot on, that I couldn’t help but grin. He asked:

“Are you the author of your own life?”

Oh dude. You have no idea.

My prized possessions, equal to the positive reinforcement Peter gave me, came in the form of the crystals I got. The two small ones I bought myself, and the orange one was gifted to me by sis – she said when she saw it and read the meaning, she thought of me 🙂

IMAG1304

Time to become Master, Author and Creator of my world..  and start creating some magic me thinks 😉

#794 Family Reading

When baby girl first brought me the book while we were out at the library, and we were waiting for our regular cappuccino and babycino order (with smiley face bikkie) I didn’t think much. She would often browse the shelves and grab any book, judging it PURELY by its cover.

She brought the large hardcover and placed it on the table, smiling. The book was facing her, therefore upside down to me. It wasn’t a book I recognised at all, and I thought to myself, just another to add to the ‘borrowing’ collection. As she opened the first page casually, she said slowly

“That’s Not Mine.”

thatsnotmine

I balked. Even from my upside down position of the book, I could see that the title indeed, was that: That’s (Not) Mine. I paused, thoughts flying through my head as I tried to process it all.

Baby girl was 4.

Did she know how to read?

Had she somehow taught herself?

Was she a genius with an extraordinary IQ?

Did I have to start looking up specialist schools from now?

And then, just as quickly, a reasonable thought crossed my mind.

“Honey, do you have this book at kinder?”

“Yes,” she replied still smiling, turning another page.

She then proceeded to read the book to me. Page by page. Sure not every word was exact, and she was going off memory. But I could see she was roughly repeating the story as it was told, and was so happy to share this story, this very simple and funny story about sharing, with me.

It was a joy to watch. Needless to say, we took the book home that day.

We have had it at her bedside ever since. Every night we read it. When the return date was up, she refused to let me take it back, so I had to renew it: I fear I need to find a copy of the book and purchase it before my repeated renewals expire, or else she will go into a frenzy.

It is the simplest premise, and yet so fun and silly for a child to read, hell even parents to read. And she has wanted it read to her, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.

Or should I say, she wants US to read it with her. What started out as the both of us sharing the two main roles of the book and acting them out, has since progressed to Hubbie listening in, and offering the last and third viewpoint of the book that comes in right at the end.

Without even meaning to, without even planning, or realising what was happening, we have created our own little family tradition.

I realised it tonight as baby girl and I headed into her room. I got into bed with her, and she picked two books, the same two-book combo she has been picking for over a week now: That’s (Not) Mine, and The Very Sleepy Bear. Tonight, knowing that Hubbie wouldn’t be able to join us immediately, I told her we would read the latter first, before moving onto her pride and joy book last.

And so it was…

Baby girl: “Mine!”

Me: “Mine!”

Baby girl: “Mine!”

Me: “Mine!”

Baby girl: “Mine!”

Me: “Mine!”

Baby girl: “Get off, it’s mine!”

Me: “Go away, it’s mine!”

BOTH: “IT’S MINE!”

Baby girl: (“Crash!”)

“I’m sorry.”

Me: “I’m sorry too.”

Baby girl: “Wanna go play?”

Me: “Yeah!”

Hubbie: “… mine!”

♥♥♥

#765 Reading break

I think I can say properly now, that I can really appreciate Winter. Sure, it’s not here just yet, but with the cooler weather slowly creeping towards us, some days are getting not-so-pleasant to spend outdoors.

Like today.

I did some odd jobs after kinder drop-off, toyed with some writing stuff at home, and then went…

“Hmm. That couch sure looks inviting.”

The background to the couch showed it was grey and cold outside through the window, so I took a book, covered myself in the couch throw, and began to u-n-w-i-n-d.

IMAG9617

It was great. Amazing. I felt a little guilty that I wasn’t actively doing something. But I have to repeatedly remind myself that when I am reading, it is in fact, research, and learning, not just enjoyment.

And when the days are cold and miserable, the act of reading becomes less selfish, and more, therapeutic. Like all the things we put off in Summer because we should be getting out and about and living life to the full, the presence of Winter reminds us that we, like the bears that hibernate, also need to take pointed time out, to replenish our bodies and minds.

And having a new working heater makes going into Winter a bit easier too.

Reading wasn’t the only thing I indulged in today, as after my ‘couch time’ I accidentally discovered Dawson’s Creek re-runs on TV…

No. Not Dawson’s Creek. All my productivity is now SHOT.

But that’s another post, for another day… 🙂

 

#764 Games with our girl

We spend so much of our lives, rushing from A to K to Z, thinking of the future, reminiscing about the past, and constantly in a state of planning, that we often forget to live, engage and be in the present.

It’s synonym is gift for a reason.

I always have things to do. I guess, duh Fred, EVERYONE’S life story. I guess my point is, in my spare time I rarely am lounging about watching hours of TV on end. I try to limit my social media use when it is just aimless trawling trawling trawling through news feeds. Recently I’ve begun planning out my days meticulously, so I can get in the maximum number of productive seconds, minutes and hours out of it that I can while baby girl is at kinder. This usually involves Zumba, some kind of writing, and then doing some sort of house-related organisational activity, a work in progress that is 18 months growing following our move (still!)

But just as I am always trying to tick things off my never-ending eternal to-do list, so am I realising I need to sometimes, just stop. Sit and DO nothing, for like, 5 minutes. Go through that mag that’s been sitting on the coffee table.

Play with baby girl.

I am very aware of her words to me. I am also aware of phrases I use like “I’m too busy,” “I can’t now” and “after.” I don’t like to use them, and then again, at times you can’t avoid them. You will be in the throes of something, let’s say dinner, and if I were to stop and go and play with baby girl’s barbie dolls, well our dinner would end up being blackened chicken schnitzel with burnt mini pizzas and soggy vegies.

But as was the case today, I stopped. Baby girl asked if we could play an exciting game, and I paused – I am so used to thinking of what I am doing next that I didn’t even realise that there was nothing I had planned for that moment – and said “sure. Let’s play.”

She was to be sleeping beauty, and I was to get her Anna, Elsa, and another barbie doll, and wake her up by presenting to her the Prince. I did just that, getting the dolls to wake her up off of the carpeted floor, but she did her trademark “no, like this,” and showed me by kissing me on the nose, that she was expecting a kiss from Prince charming himself.

I smiled. Okay then.

I instructed her to stay there on the floor, then ran off to her room to get something. Back I came, with her dolls, and doing some pretend doll voices, the dolls then presented the Prince to a sleeping, Beauty. He leant down, gave her a kiss… she woke up…

And it was her Captain Feathersword doll.

The look of wild hilarity and fun spread across her face as she refused his ‘advances,’ and we doubled over on the floor cacking ourselves silly. I took the turn of being Sleeping Beauty then as she presented the feathery pirate to me, and then in my subsequent turns of finding a Prince for her, I presented to her my original 90s Ken Barbie, who honestly I thought was as good a Prince as any, but she said “yuck!” and on second thoughts and looks I realised that in his 90s bow-tie suit he looked more like a 40 year-old Dad figure than a suitor. Fair enough.

The last dude I found for her was also Wiggles themed, palm-sized Lachy doll from the latest group incarnation. “Here you go,” I mimicked the dolls, placing him on her face for a lip smacker.

“No Lachy, yuck!” she squealed, and we doubled over again in laughter, laughing more because we were there watching each other laugh and cry laughing. It was GOLD.

Tonight after all the cooking and cleaning and getting ready for the next day, I miraculously found some spare time. And I didn’t fill it with stuff on my to-do list. I turned to my private ‘me’ list, and sat at the table to read the Peninsula Kids magazine we had received at kinder that day.

Sure, I was reading articles written from fellow bloggers I knew and people who I had read about online. It was kinda like homework. But still, I was reading, I was engaging, and I was growing. And all the while a few metres away, Hubbie was creating his own game with baby girl – chasing her around the table, pretending to be distracted by something else and then running for her, until he would catch her in a bear hug, pull her into the couch, and then it would start all over again.

I sat there, reading amidst the laughter and the love, glad that she had had a full day of games, memories and love. I wasn’t in complete peace amidst the noise, but also somehow, I was.

IMAG9609

#757 Reading books at bedtime

A small realisation today. Because quite often you don’t realise you have succeeded in a vision you used to have a while ago, long after it has come true, and you are actually living it.

I have always loved books, to read, and to write, and I knew that I would make sure books and reading were a big part of baby girl’s early life… I couldn’t control what she did later on, but I wanted to expose her to as much fun, imagination, creativity and wonder that I knew books could bring to her, as I could in this still early stage of parenthood.

And so tonight, as I finished her second book of the night at bedtime, and she then said to me “one more book?” at first I said no.

1, it was getting late and she had an early start for kinder tomorrow.

2, she had had a BIG day.

And 3, well she was stalling – plain and simple.

But, I succumbed, as I always do, because I too, love books. She shuffled onto my lap as I started to read ‘Good Night, Sleep Tight,’ by the Australian children’s writer Mem Fox. We turned page by page, and I sang the rhymes with gusto and enthusiasm, maybe a bit too much for bedtime!… and it was in this moment, I had a pull-back.

I was able to see with clarity, almost in an out-of-body experience, that this is what I had always wanted. The reading to my child at bedtime. The interaction. The fun. The genuine willingness of my child for me to read to them, again and again and again.

The LOVE.

So when I finished that book and got out of her bed, and she asked “one more book?”

With all of the above in mind… I had to read one more 🙂

 

#738 Bedtime reading/singing

It’s going to be a mild night. We lay stretched out on her bed, our legs pushing back the blue sheets that will be even too much for a night like tonight.

She rests her head on my shoulder. The battery-operated ballerina lamp glows nearby.

“10 little ducks went out one day

Over the hill and far away

Mother Duck said ‘Quack Quack Quack Quack’

And only 9 little ducks came back.”

IMAG9076

We do this page by page, and she sings along with me, emphasising the ‘one day,’ ‘far away’ ALL the ‘Quack’s, and bops along to the sing-song-y tune.

I then have an idea. All we do is read at night in her bed as she is winding down for sleepy-time. But she has been singing a song ever since coming home from a kinder class the other day, so I put the books aside and face her.

“GALUMPH! went the little green frog one day, GALUMPH! went the little green frog!”

And so the song goes. For those that need a refresher or don’t know what the hell I’m getting all delusional about:

Is it GALUMPH? GARUMPH? PATOOF? Maybe even just WOOF, hell it’s a kids song, so anything goes.

But the slow build-up of the frog bouncing, the fun actions, leading to the jazzy “la di da di da” bit, makes the song so much fun to sing and dance to in its absolute entirety.

Even more so when you have a very cute 4 year old beside you, singing the song with absolute delight and gusto 🙂

 

 

#730 Mornington Pier

I have the fortunate problem of having too much to be grateful for today.

Nah. NEVER too much gratitude to be had.

It was a truly blissful and relaxing day. It really did feel like we were on holiday. Aside from the quiet reading I did at the park while Hubbie played some b-ball

IMAG8793

And the great time we had at my Uncle and Aunty’s place taking in mother nature, her finest and most organic produce, and the surrounds of heavenly greenery

IMAG8799

(My Uncle’s bees drinking water around the large bowl)

IMAG8835

 

It was what we did at 10:30am that had us in absolute awe.

We started off once again with no real plans after the kinder drop off was done… Hubbie mentioned coffee, it was to be guaranteed to follow on Main street, and when we appeared to be reading each other’s minds with the same café – Store Fifteen – I had to add, due to proximity’s sake –

“Why don’t we walk down to the pier?”

This man of mine loves sitting down to drink his coffee – not many takeaway cups there. But, the water called.

“Sure.”

We took our large latte and regular cappuccino, and wandered down the path in between the curving coastline and huge park that baby girl loves to frequent, until we reached closer water.

IMAG8742

IMAG8746

From here on out, I think I’ll let the photos do the talking.

IMAG8748

IMAG8756

IMAG8753

IMAG8761

It was so incredibly peaceful. There were people about, yes. But it was still. It was quiet. We stayed at the tip of the pier the longest, looking out at the world beyond.

IMAG8777

A nearby fisherman spoke to us, telling us he had waited for this perfect Summer’s Day for weeks. Mid 20s, 6km winds… it was the perfect day for fishing.

And we had stumbled upon it.

IMAG8776

We listened to the fishermens banter about bait, took in some more sunshine and pristine water views, I made small talk with a seagull… and off we went, making thanks for such a tremendously glorious sight, and vowing that the Mornington Pier walk would become a part of our wanders and visits, a bit more often.