Do what I say, and remember…


I live in a world where I’m told to be true to myself.

And that is easy.

I live quickly.

I care unconditionally.

I love strongly.

I respect myself.

I honour others.

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Life is a Crime Syndicate

Everyone has bad days and it is at these times that I generally flee to some close friends for reassurance and comfort. Occasionally, when times are really bad, reassurance comes in the form of the age old expression, “Just take one day at a time”. A piece of relatively useful advice. Relative in the sense that it assumes that you will only have to deal with one particular day at any one time.

I try to take one day at a time.

But sometimes, on rare occasions, several days attack me at once. Like a well organised crime syndicate. Albeit, a crime syndicate composed of members whose preference is to sneak up on their targets, generally around twelve noon on a Sunday when a person is normally relaxing, and unapologetically bludgeoning their unsuspecting victim into unconsciousness with a splintery, wooden plank.

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Life is simple. It’s living it that is extremely frustrating. So I am wondering … have you ever wanted to just magic life? Just a little? Just to make it somewhat easier?

Stuff needs to get done. You have no time. You find yourself in a stressful situation. You find you can not cope with all the stressors of life. It all seems too difficult.

You wave you hand dramatically and … all problems are magically solved!

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Across the frozen wasteland of speckled space,

Which reaches into the infinity of tomorrow from the land of the now;

I fly alone,

Passing others’ lives.


Soaring through the icy mists of detritus from imploded failure,

As they collapse into harmonious structures beneath a guiding stars light;

I watch life appear,

Nurtured under harshness.

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It’s not about the Spoon!

Are you sure this argument is actually about the spoon?

So recently, I’ve been going insane and turning into a yelling crazy woman at people I love. There has been a little voice in the back of my head telling me I’m being unreasonable, demanding and bitchy. Unfortunately, that voice of reason wasn’t loud enough to stop the emotional explosion resulting from a buildup of many things.

Interestingly, a friend told me of a metaphor another psychologist buddy of ours has for just these kinds of situations. This metaphor was dubbed “It’s not about the spoon”.

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Experiences of an Empath

When people think of empathy they often envisage a situation where another person feels bad and they feel bad in response. When people think of an empath, they think of a person who picks up on the emotions of others and therefore feels what the other person is feeling. Unfortunately, both of these perceptions are wrong; they are describing a sympathetic and empathic response, which most people are able to passively engage in if they so choose.

Being an empath is a whole other ball game. I am an empath. It is my greatest asset and my massive Achilles heel. Being, what I call a ‘pure’ or emotional, empath, means that I am often misunderstood, ostracized, and criticized for my experiences. So I’m going to try to set the record straight and tell you what it is like to live as an empath.

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Recently, I had one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Terrifying because I was genuinely fearful I was going to come to physical harm, not to mention it was totally unexpected. I am talking about the most unpleasant instance of road rage one can imagine.

Everyone knows about road rage. We all engage in it sometimes, that spark point of annoyance, usually incited by the combination of traffic and humans with complete lack of awareness of where they are walking or driving, escalating into irritated swearing and the occasional beep on the horn urging pedestrians and other road users out of our way. Thankfully, for most of us that is as far as the experience goes, either yelling or being yelled at. Unfortunately, there are the delightful few who decide to take it further.

So here I was carefully driving around the corner of my local retail complex early on a sunny Tuesday morning. The entrance for the carpark of my local shops is actually in quiet side street with a clear view in each direction. Hence, seeing absolutely no-one driving in the oncoming lane and no other traffic to speak of, I flicked my indicator on, checked all mirrors and blind spots twice just to be absolutely sure, made sure nothing was suddenly going to pull out from the line of parked cars along the kerb, and commenced my turn into the carpark entrance.


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The Burdens We Carry

Many people find it difficult to understand how clinging to their experiences, emotions, past hurts, and fears hinder their progress to change in ways they want to. Mostly we cling to these things because change is scary. What if we don’t like what we become? What if other people don’t like me? What if something really bad happens to me and I haven’t been preparing for it? What if, what if, what if?

But living this way just leads to stagnation, we miss out on all the experiences happening right now. They fly right by us and we never notice because we are too busy thinking about what our grandmother said to us last Tuesday about the job we haven’t even got yet that we need to earn money to buy the house not yet built.

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The Art of Selfless Caring

Today’s world is full of busy people busily carrying out their business whilst they busily sticky beak on other peoples’ business and get annoyed with anyone who is too busy to care. The interesting anomaly here is that everyone is so busy being busy keeping up appearances, which are more often than not false representations, that they seem to have forgotten how to truly care and get thrown by anyone who is able to do just that.

I am one of those people who doesn’t bother with the energy sapping exercise of busily trying to make everyone happy. I just show people I care about them, respect them, endeavour to communicate productively to resolve issues and provide support, and basically go above and beyond the call of duty with the expectation that I will be treated in a similar way.

Unfortunately, this no-nonsense, get-what-you-give reciprocal attitude to social relationships is precisely why people get annoyed at me because it demands constant maintenance and effort from each party coupled with honestly and a willingness to understand and accept people for who they are, not what we want them to be.

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Clothes Makeith the Man (or woman)

It has long befuddled me what is so amusing about a person who takes pride in their dress sense. Especially if that dress sense is slightly eccentric or reflective of fashionable code of a long gone era which embodies upstanding attitudes.

I certainly enjoy dressing up, particularly in winter where I can pull out all my coats, hats and scarves (the only items of clothing I feel I can effortlessly pull off. Mind you, some of these clothes are not exactly in alignment with modern dress standards. My favourite winter outfit, consisting of a tailored gray double breasted waistcoat, black fitted coat, and rabbit fur topper, I would go so far as to say is downright fanciful by current standards. Add to that the wooden coat lapel pin proudly proclaiming “contains traces of nuts” and it’s amazing that I have yet to be lynched by self aggrandising Sydney pedestrians.

Or is it?

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