I am revolting!

HOLD ON!!! Before you rush off to send me soap, scrubs, perfumes and deodorants, I am actually referring to:

revolt |rɪˈvəʊlt|

verb

1. [intrans.] rise in rebellion

as opposed to:

2. [trans.] cause to feel disgust

Though I cannot guarantee this will avoid the onset of definition No.2, I'll do my best to prevent it.

So with reference to definition No.1, why am I revolting? Because, quite frankly, I have to save myself from the jaws of insanity.

You see... I'm beginning to feel like I am talking to myself, which I've heard is one of the first signs of going poco loco. When I go two days in a row without receiving a comment, I start loosing my mind!

Thoughts like, "That's it, it's all over... nobody likes it (me) anymore... I'm boring... I suck... what a waste of time (mine and everybody else's)... why am I doing this ridiculous blog anyway..." and it goes on and on and on. I'm millimetres away from rocking backwards and forwards, mumbling random abusive comments in very Tourette's-like impulses.

Seriously.

Why am I so desperate to have feedback? Is it because I lack belief in myself? What about the old adage, no news is good news. Should I assume that just because I haven't heard anything, that everything is a-okay? For me the opposite is true. When I don't hear anything, I assume the worst.

Is that wrong? Am I wrong? (happy to be wrong at this juncture)

According to new age literature, what we seek must come from within - which at first, I agreed with. But over time, I began to question that rationale - does that mean performers should not seek applause, dogs need not vie for treats, primary (junior) students forget about the gold star (or scratch and smell sticker, my all time favourite) and, here it comes... bloggers not want for comments?

One of the objectives of Project Grace 2010, is to be able to ask for what I want powerfully. Now this isn't easy for me, so it's going to take practice, practice, practice... and more practice.

So here it is, in writing (as I screw my face up and cringe as I type)...

I would like to receive at least one comment at the bottom of each blog. That means if you're the first, I am asking you to scare yourself and leave a comment (go on, you can do it, I know you can). Facebookers have an extra challenge of leaving a comment outside of our grey-blue friend - yep, we are upping the ante folks (Gaz, you're excused for the time being as you have enough frequent commenter points to fly you to Mexico).

Phew, done. Uncomfortable? Yes. As I said - practice, practice, practice.

Until tomorrow, practice asking for what you want, avoid insanity and bypass the revolting route.

Grace xx

Choose your dreams

Imagine this...

It's 4:30am, the alarm goes off.

You abruptly awake from a dream. You were sipping a deliciously fruity cocktail poolside, while George Clooney, in scuba gear, played a pink baby grand piano (Does he even play? Do they even come in pink?)

Meanwhile, a Marilyn Monroesque Angelina Jolie sang the French national anthem in a dress made of newspaper shreds - what the?

You let out a big yawn and stretch as you adjust to your current surroundings - your reality.

It's raining outside, the wind is howling and you have to be at work by the ungodly hour of 6am.

How do you feel?

But wait, I didn't tell you the whole story...

You're going to work early in order to leave at lunch time. You have a few loose ends to tie before you, my friend, board a plane that's heading for the Bahamas. This is the morning of your 21-day vacation - woohoo!

How do you feel NOW?

It makes a difference doesn't it?

Our future shapes how we feel in the present. If we're living into a future that inspires, excites and thrills us, we'd all be jumping out of bed before the alarm each morning.

Can choosing our future be as simple as choosing a holiday from a travel brochure?

Let's think about this. No matter what our constraints are, be it time or budget, don't we manage to create a holiday that works for us? One that we look forward to.

A bright future, one that we create, is like equipping ourselves with good suspension on the highway of life. All the little bumps in the road are just that, little bumps.

Perhaps we ought to take holiday planning as a template of how to create a future that's equally as exciting.

Back to the story...

When you get to the Bahamas, you stumble on a film set of a romantic comedy titled 'Le Plongeur'. You learn that George Clooney really can't play, baby grands do come in pink and his co-star, Angelina Jolie, is in all the local papers for sporting a new blonde look, thus discovering you're somewhat psychic.

Until tomorrow, may all your dreams become reality - so choose wisely.

Grace xx

Happy Little Camper

Something happened today.

I woke up feeling lighter than ever. In fact, I may have literally jumped out of bed.

I felt as though I had ants in my pants and all I wanted to do was, wait for it, washing!

Before my routine morning visit to the throne, I immediately started sorting out darks, lights, reds, towels and Lycra (being married to a cyclist means that anything shiny and stretchy is in a wash class of its own).

Perhaps airing the emotional laundry of yesteryear has motivated me to get stuck in today's pile of dirty linen, sooner than rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

When thinking of a photo that would represent how I'm feeling right now, a happy little camper, I couldn't go past these little beauties.

As you may have guessed from yesterday's mega-post, I have a penchant for shoes. These little Camper's (pictured) were a gift I purchased for myself in Sydney in 2002 (they're close to being vintage). They were my personal reward for winning the $15,000.

I would have NEVER spent over $230 on a pair of casual flip flop sandals (normally I'd wait for them to go on sale and if I missed out, console myself with "they weren't meant to be"). However the deal I made with myself after winning the money was to buy one thing that I 'wouldn't ordinarily buy', as the bulk of the money was going to something sensible - our house deposit.

These old-timer's are a perfect representation of how I'm feeling today. Playful, quirky, girlie and free. Oh, and just for the record, he loves me.

Until tomorrow, may tending yesterday's laundry give you a clean start today.

Grace xx

Rising Star

This blog is dedicated to 'Anonymously Addicted' who, in yesterday's comments, wrote:

"OMG- am I addicted?? Where's yesterdays blog Grace? TALK TO US!!!!!!"

Whilst I had in fact posted a blog the day before, it was, by my own admission, rather insubstantial.

So today I'm making up for it by telling you a story. A word of warning; it's my longest post to date and may require tissues. It's about a 5-year old me, my out-of-control tricycle, bully twin sisters and my Barbie star pendant.

My childhood home was situated at the highest point of a cul-de-sac. The land plateaued in front of our property before making its steep descent to a main road, which connected us to an adjoining court. We (my brothers and I) were not permitted to venture outside our court. It was the law; one I adhered to without ever, intentionally, breaching.

One day I was riding my fixed wheel tricycle, when I started gaining too much speed down the hill. The pedals were spinning faster than my little legs could manage and I remember feeling totally out of control as I accelerated towards the legal boundary.

There was nothing more I could do than to hold on for dear life. My trike arrested once it crossed the border and ascended the hill on the other side (to this day I am thankful a car wasn't travelling on the main road that connected the two courts).

I knew I'd be in trouble for breaking 'the law', but what I didn't anticipate was the trouble I'd be in from landing in enemy territory. The twin sisters from the opposing court were renowned for being bullies, though I'd never known it first hand. That is, not till that fateful day.

The wicked sisters of the west charged towards me, their brother in tow. Before I could retreat to the safety of my turf, I was being restrained by the boy who held my arms behind my back. They each took turns at using me as a punching bag, not to mention scratching me and pulling my hair.

I can still hear my voice crying out loud and desperately shouting at my then 3 year old brother, "Don't just stand there!" but really, what could he do? (I'm so grateful now that they didn't turn on him too).

Then they did the unthinkable.

They grabbed my golden Barbie star pendant, along with the necklace it was attached to, ripped it off my neck and threw it down the street drain.

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This hurt more than the punching, the scratching and the humiliation.

That was my favourite piece of jewellery before being acquainted with my next favourite; a bluebird on a silver-plated chain. I had received the gold star as a birthday present with an accompanying Barbie doll (I'm sure the pendant was meant to accompany the doll, though to me that faux-gold star was worth more than the 'perfect plastic woman').

I don't remember much after the beating, other than being left in a heap at the bottom of the street. I was sobbing uncontrollably and attempted to retrieve my beloved Barbie star pendant. But no matter how far I reached, or how hard I tried, I could not get to it. I just looked at it through the concrete gap, crying, and crying... and crying.

Years later I found myself in Kuala Lumpur. It was the day after our 6th wedding anniversary and my husband was out buying bike parts for his impending cycling trip in north India. I on the other hand was heading to south India and preferred doing more girlie things prior to my departure, like browsing for shoes.

Our anniversary gift to each other was a romantic few nights at the Crowne Plaza Hotel overlooking the Petronas Twin Towers, which was just lovely. Only whilst I was out on my shoe expedition, I came across this diamond-studded white gold star (pictured) and thought it an apt encore to the previous night's celebration.

It instantly reminded me of the loved one I lost in that incident, bringing forth a flood of emotions. Instead of running away from the memory and the pain it regurgitated, I wanted to rise above it. And so, in that moment, I did the unprecedented act of buying myself a valuable jewellery item (albeit under the guise of an anniversary present from my husband).

This pendant is my 'rising' star.

It is my daily reminder of how I can overcome obstacles and rise above adversity no matter how big (or old) they are, or I am. It is a reinforcement to me now, and a comfort to the little girl that I grew from.

In times of self-doubt, I hold it. It speaks of my strength and resilience. It prompts me to let go of the past, with a promise that the future will be better. When I catch sight of it in the mirror, I can't help thinking that perhaps there's something else it's trying to tell me... and possibly the reflection I see, is the rising star within me.

Until tomorrow, may you seek what reflects the rising star within you.

Grace xx

ps. As I wrote today's blog, I realised the uncanniness that the reunion between me and my star all took place while I'd been sleeping in the shadows of the world's tallest twin sisters, the Petronas Towers, and my husband was looking for bike related products (quite possibly brake parts) - is that the Twilight Zone theme I hear playing?

Life's Gift

Do you ever have moments when you feel like you're the luckiest person in the world?

You're appreciation for life paints a smile that's angelical. You sing praises all round in a voice evangelical. You cannot hide, the feelings inside and keep searching for words that end in an 'elical'.

That's how I'm feeling today.

After a wonderful evening last night with two girlfriends that I've known and loved since high school (hi Jaala and Sam!), followed by a fabulous day having lunch with my family... I am feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

Sometimes we need to stop worrying about things we have to do in the future, or lamenting over things we have done (or haven't done) in the past... and just be present in the now.

Having a great time with friends and family helps keep us in the present moment. For we all know that the present is indeed, life's gift.

Until tomorrow, may your life be full of 'elical' moments.

Grace xx

ps. The photo was taken 18 years ago when I lived in London.

pps. When I'm happy I break into song, rhyme or limericks... and yes, I did just make that up based on the photo (I read your mind).

Being a good egg

According to the date on the top of this post it is Friday - Good Friday.

However in my reality, it's Saturday afternoon and I have a mountain of stuff to get through.

So, in the spirit of Friday (good) and Easter (eggs), I've decided to be just that - a good egg.

That means;

1. Posting my blog on time, albeit short and shallow (make up for yesterday's attempt at a 'Time Out' post)
   
   
2. Attend to the rest of my day
   
   
3. Wish you all a Happy Easter (if applicable to your beliefs and customs) and a great weekend to all

Until tomorrow, may all of your eggs be in more than one basket.

Grace xx

ps. The photo is my attempt at adapting Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' to how I'm feeling right now - half stressed with a sense of humour about it!

Flat Out

When you're flat out, it's okay to take time out and regroup. In fact it's considered healthy and is encouraged - but you're too busy to take heed.

Taking time when you're not flat out, should also be okay - only for me, it's not. The permission process is often fraught with guilt, shame and torturous internal battles. I have to earn my time out.

Letting myself 'off the hook' is not so easy being me.

I start by building a case based on worthy reasons with a long list of benefits to support my time out proposal.

In almost all cases, under duress and great stress, I eventually grant myself permission - only I am so depleted by the process that often I can do little more than lie on the couch gazing at the idiot box (a DVD is a bonus if I can drag myself to the video library).

Today, I took a clean break.

Yes, you read it correctly, I took a CLEAN break - meaning without punishment or guilt or longwinded inner arguments. What's more, is that according to my old outdated measuring scale, I didn't even earn it! (do I hear a roaring cheer?)

My brother and his wife invited me on a boat trip with their young family. I love love LOVE hanging out with little people, they are so much fun, and my 5 year old nephew and 3 year old niece are no exception. The decision to accept their invitation was a 'no brainer' - and I did it freely.

We cruised Melbourne's Yarra River (see photo) and the day turned out to be perfect. On the way home, I noted the time and said to Pat "I have to post today's blog in an hour" (I post daily to the US time zone and it clicks over to midnight at around 6pm local time).

So I decided I was going to call today's post 'Time Out' and explain that I was indeed taking time out. The plan was simple, choose a photo from today's outing, put the one-sentence 'Time Out' disclaimer, hit 'Publish Post' and voila! - all done.

As you can probably guess, it didn't go quite as planned. After choosing my photo, I thought 'Flat Out' was a far more appropriate title and look what happened...???

Looks like some habits die hard.

Until tomorrow, may you take all the time out you need - whether you are flat out or not.

Grace xx