Pinocchio and the 'Big Picture To Do List'

How many times have you written down your 'Big Picture To Do List' (which is inevitably infiltrated with little picture, really-must-get-these-things-done tasks) and by the time you get to the bottom of the page you're overwhelmed, exhausted by the sight of it and think you're insane and a complete fraud for even thinking about such grandiose ideas?

Okay... let me take a step back...

How many of us even write a  'Big Picture To Do List'?

For those with an overactive imagination, the need to have a sense of purpose and whose present-moment experience is highly influenced by the direction one is heading (i.e. me) - leveraging the 'Big Picture To Do List' can transform one from bobbing around aimlessly in an ocean full of options, to launching into life like a target-locked missile, gaining speed and momentum with each nanosecond.

Whilst 'To Do' lists are useful in ticking boxes and getting things done, the inherent problem with the 'Big Picture To Do List' is that it is, by definition, 'Big Picture' - which can often take years to manifest. So when one's 'Big Picture To Do List' remains stagnant, and what was written down 5, 10, 15, 20+ years ago is still there today, it leaves one questioning oneself - Who am I kidding? 

But before we judge ourselves, we ought to acknowledge that all 'To Do' lists have a major downfall that severely impacts the psyche of even the minutest of overachievers. They fail to recognise what has been achieved (often in place of what was on the list). Just as living into a promising future shapes our present moment experience, so too does recognising an accomplished past.

For all of us grappling with new-age notions and forbidding the future and past to intrude on the present - let me just tell you here and now that it's bullshit. Reflecting on the past and visualising a future gives context to our now. I don't condone dwelling in either direction, but brief glances to shape our present experience is what makes us human (I have no interest in being divine, sorry).

After yesterday's post many have pledged to write a 'Jumping List'. So with saying goodbye to 2013, and hello to 2014 - I ask that we not only plan our future jumps, but also acknowledge our past jumps. For failing to celebrate our achievements is hiding our truth from ourselves - and that's the biggest Pinocchio lie of all.

Until our next cuppa, start writing... and when you're overwhelmed by the future, take courage from your past.

- Grace xo

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Are you afraid to jump?

In 1992 I took a leap of faith and booked a one-way flight to London. I had little money and no real plans - my main motivators being freedom, independence and personal growth.

My parents freaked...

Dad: What are you going to do when you get there?
Me: I'll stay with my friend Tarls until I get on my feet.
Mum: How are you going to support yourself?
Me: I'll get a job.
Dad: Why don't you wait till you find a job first and then leave?
Me: I've already booked my ticket - I'm going. Don't worry - I'll find a job and I'll be okay.

And within 2 weeks, I jumped.

The following year I received an invitation to my (then) boyfriend's friend's wife's cousin's wedding... in Jamaica (as you do). Flights to Montego Bay ex London were cheap so how could I refuse?

Our cultural wedding experience was followed by a 2-week adventure that circumnavigated the island. We took advice from locals and ended up at Rick's Cafe in Negril, which is now famous for its high cliff-top jumping platforms that challenge thrill seekers to plunge into the turquoise Caribbean Sea below.

Back then, we were the only non-locals within cooee of this site - and I, the only female. Testosterone filled the air with dares and backward triple somersault jumps. I watched in anxious awe.

My companion urged me to jump assuring me that I'd love it. Instead of starting at the lower jump points - I went straight to the top of the highest platform (35ft /10.7m) .

I looked down at what seemed to be 5kms (3.1mi) below and retreated. My companion continued to jump and climb, jump and climb, jump and climb - he was like a lab rat on speed. With each plunge he assured me that I could do it, and I'd love it.

This immediately took me back to a time when I was a child at my Aunt's beach house. All my cousins would jump from a sandy cliff height of about 1.5m (5ft) onto the soft sand below. Many times I stood at the top with the intention to jump, but I just couldn't do it. Ever.

So here I am (I could hear myself thinking), I have an opportunity to have a breakthrough. Make up for all the little jumps I missed out on as a child. Do it Grace, do it.

My companion jumped in once more and from the water below called up to me, "Come on Grace - you'll loooooove it! Just jump like a tin soldier - keep your feet straight like a pin".

Before I knew it, I had launched myself from the platform.

Utterly terrified I heard a blood-curdling scream echoing all around me. It was mine. I felt myself accelerate through the fall to a point where I hit warp speed - the fastest ever free fall.

In my terror, I had become completely paralysed. I could not straighten my legs and I hit the water with the thud of my butt. It was like landing on a sandpit - from 5kms high.

What followed was years of pain and spinal complications arising from the inability to sit with good posture - what's worse was that my favourite hideout in the guise of a movie cinema, was now a torture chamber. Not a fitting reward for my bravery, I thought.

As time went on and the pain persisted, I began to view my jump as much less courageous and more likely stupid. Why do we do that with 20/20 hindsight? If I'd have had a successful breakthrough and conquered my fear of jumping - then I'd have been a hero. Instead, I deemed myself a loser.

Since then, I have become increasingly afraid to jump - both literally and metaphorically. My fear of perpetuating a 'loser outcome' has kept me safe, but it has also eroded my youthful spirit of optimism and possibility - the same spirit that had me buy that one-way ticket to London in the first instance.

Life continually tempts us with opportunities, presents us with challenges and dares us to take risks. If we are not jumping, are we passively paralysing ourselves and asphyxiating our spirit?

Right now I am on the precipice. I have so many projects that I have yearned to manifest, but my fear of jumping has kept them safely locked away in the pipeline, on the back burner and when I have money, energy and time.

With only two days of 2013 left, perhaps now is the time to prepare my chute and get ready to jump in 2014. Who's with me?

Until our next cuppa, think about where in life you are afraid to jump - and start packing your chute too.

- Grace xo

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Is the comeback making a comeback?

Hello, is there anybody out there?

It's been near on 3 years since declaring my last post and everything in this virtual landscape has changed (so much). I thought it'd be like coming home, but it's all so different now... or is it...?

Why do we (Ron Burgundy and 1960's, 70's & 80's rock bands) feel the need to make a comeback?

Is it because we are trying to recapture the feelings of success and adoration we enjoyed all those years ago?

Is is because that every 'new' thing we've tried since our departure has failed, or simply did not give us the same buzz?

Is a comeback similar to rekindling an old flame? We go back because of great memories - but in time, will we soon be reminded why we split up in the first place?

All is to be revealed (to myself also).

So why the comeback - my comeback - and will it last?

Truth is, I don't know.

I reinvented myself a gazillion times after Project Grace 2010 in my pursuit of the perfect persona and the perfect blog - but I felt like I was an impostor... of myself.

Weird, I know.

I started Project Grace 2010 with a specific intention of 'finding myself' leading up to my 40th birthday.

The thing is, I am continually evolving (aren't we all?) and I failed to allow my blog to evolve with me.

I held a rigid interpretation of the title, which made it seem odd for me to continue beyond 2010. How silly was I?

Three years later,  my view has expanded. Project Grace 2010 can mean whatever I choose for it to mean. I am the creator, the author - just as I am creator and author of my life... it's time to start writing... again.

Until our next virtual cuppa, where in life can you alter your interpretation and make a comeback?

Grace xo

ps. Thank you Kate for your encouraging words on 6th September 2010.

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Beyond Project Grace 2010

After much contemplation, I declare that Project Grace 2010, the blog, has come to its timely end.

It was not an easy decision and, at first, was hard to let go. However there were a number of factors that made the way clear.

January 1st, 2011 seemed like an obvious expiration date for a 2010 project and I realised that continuing with it would have diluted its significance and potentially morph it into something else.

I concluded that Project Grace 2010 needed to be honoured and shine in cyberspace as a stand alone star. Had I proceeded to use it as a daily blog, I risked overshadowing the project itself. I could not allow this. I owe so much to it.

You see, Project Grace 2010 saved my life. When I reflect on how lost I felt the day I started, I realised I have conquered a mountain - Mt. Fabulous At Forty in fact. I have gained so many insights and in many ways have learned more in its 9-month duration than I did in the 39-years leading up to it. It gave me perspective, resolution, confidence, self worth and an enormous sense of purpose. I am forever grateful.

In its wake, there was an empty space. A void I couldn't live with. So I started something new. Something that would give me as much purpose and passion as Project Grace 2010. I like to think of it as my project's offspring - which makes perfect sense seeing the gestation period was exactly 9 months.

So without further ado, I am delighted to introduce you to Trailing Grace.

Trailing Grace is my new blog sans expiry date. I invite to join me at my new cyber home and continue to share my journey as I travel through life's peaks and troughs. This evolving new space is destined to have many virtual rooms, though at this stage is a little stark and needs an interior decorator (aka me) to get to work on it pronto.

Until we meet again at my new abode, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.

Grace xx

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The last hour

It is the last hour of 2010 and I am sitting in the passenger seat thumbing this post.

The last 24 hours have been an apt reflection of what this year has been like for me; full of ups and downs, reactions and insights, conflicts and resolutions.

I am happy to say that I am at peace.

Tonight we opted to escape the new year madness and, after driving around for 90 minutes, Patrick and I created our own magic.

We decided that having kebabs and Champagne by the quiet shores nearby Melbourne's shipping docks would be the perfect way to end a perfectly imperfect year. And indeed it was - though we did swap the bubbles for organic orange juice.

With the clock ticking, the new year is but a few minutes away. Can a project dated 2010 continue into 2011?

I have decided not to answer straight away. I am taking a few days off and let the new year settle into my bones. Whatever I decide, be rest assured that I will let you know.

As midnight draws nearer, all I feel now is enormous gratitude. Thank you for lending me your ears and giving me a voice. Know that you have been instrumental in putting Humpty Dumpty together again.

This greatest reveal of Project Grace 2010 has been that my mojo was never lost. It was simply buried under years of emotional garbage, which took 9 months of regular trips to the dumpster (aka blog) to eliminate.

I feel stronger, clearer, focused and committed. There is structure, strategy and security in my renewed optimism.

Until next year, eliminate your emotional garbage regularly so that your mojo is within easy access.

Grace xx

PS. Have an amazing 2011. May it be full of love, happiness and exciting goals that will challenge and reward you. Don't be shy to embark on your own personal project and share it with the world... or at least me :-)

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New Year's Eve Eve

The number of couch surfers we are hosting has multiplied!

As a result of fully booked backpacker accommodation in Melbourne, we now have three gorgeous, youthful, fun loving Italians staying with us (Lucio's friends who bused in from Adelaide).

After an amazing meal prepared by the newcomers Ambra (the marine biologist), Raffa (the barista) and a few glasses of good vino, the box of wigs and spectacles came out to play.

Needless to say we've had a fabulous night and have welcomed the last day of 2010. It's now 2:47am and it doesn't look like we'll be going to bed anytime soon.

So without further ado, I bid you adieu. I'm off to play Miss. DJ for there are many great tunes that ensue.

Oh, and for those who knew me in the days of Gracelands, Club Safari and /or the Salmon Palace, I am happy to report that my mojo is in full swing... and if you're lucky, you may even get an "I love you" phone call.

Until tomorrow, open your heart and home to those stranded with nowhere to sleep... you could be harboring the parents of a future messiah.

Grace xx

PS. Patrick has written his own version of this evening's events... click here if you're keen to read his side of the story ;-)

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Lackadaisical

Today we bid farewell to yesterday's interstate guests and welcomed an international couch surfer from Italy. Luciano is a delightful fellow who is here to explore Australia whilst improving his English.

Our conversations have hit several stumbling blocks, often prompting to us to reach for the nearest translation tool. On one occasion, Lucio (as he'd rather be called) grabbed his copy of 'Tutto Inglese' (I'll let you Google translate that one) and as I flicked through the pages I came across this word; lackadaisical.

To my memory, I've never heard it. Ever.

Patrick on the other hand, was familiar with the term. He joyfully stroked his feathers (in his cap) as he waltzed to his laptop in order to give me a more articulate definition:

lackadaisical |ˈlakəˈdeɪzɪk(ə)l|

adjective

lacking enthusiasm and determination; carelessly lazy : a lackadaisical attempt at sun bathing in the Himalayas, saw Grace lying flat on her back whilst fully robed (amazing - it really said that! - okay, it really didn't).

I have very quickly become fond of this word. Not so much for what it means, but for the way it sounds and how it feels to say it. Lackadaisical.

Just when you think that an Italian couch surfer couldn't introduce you to a new English word, Tutto Inglese would prove you otherwise... and THAT'S what I love about sharing conversations with those that are learning your language, or you learning theirs.

Until tomorrow, don't be too lackadaisical to learn new words - even if it means having challenging inter-language conversations.

Grace xx

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