All posts tagged: gratitude

Why I sailed my choir into the therapist’s office

It had been nearly 6 months since I’d seen her, my ‘therapist’. I actually regard her as more of a ‘wise Aunty’, even though she’s younger than me. Living in Australia, far from older relatives as I am, and with Mum safely tucked up in her Residential Home for people with Dementia, sometimes I simply need to check in with someone objective, smart, and kind, who has my wellbeing paramount. Yes, #firstworldproblems I know. But I’m doing my best to live gently on the earth, and make conscious choices about my daily behaviour as much as I can; sometimes, I get a little overwhelmed, and need a soothing conversation to re-centre me. I’ve suffered twice in the past from episodes of depression (one was post-natal, and the other when my father died suddenly), so I know I need to manage a slight tendency towards anxiety learnt long ago at the feet of my mother. And this time, as I stepped into the light-filled office, with wooden bookshelves and curling leafy plants in every corner, I …

Nepal 1: Kathmandu, I love your charismatic chaos

Above our cheap rooftop terrace (less than $100 for 3 nights for 2 rooms for 4 of us), beyond the dusty haze, tower the Himalayas. Supposedly. Because we never saw them from this busy, dirty, earthquake-cracked city, where pavements disappear, tarmac is intermittent, and power poles are a wire labyrinth. We landed safely though, ate multiple samosas from a streetside seller, admired grafitti, and did a little mandatory sightseeing. Just walking around the local tourist district of Thamel and older parts of the city was culture shock enough for my son ’18’, blessed as we are to live in a beautifully natural part of Australia: And the power poles; I just couldn’t get over the power poles. Nepal is in the Top Ten poorest countries on earth, with 29.3 million people squashed into a country 53 times smaller than Australia; almost a million live in Kathmandu itself, which sprawls through a valley my travel buddy can remember being full of rice fields 25 years ago… Of course, the victims of urban sprawl are the environment, …

Saying yes to a surprising adventure with my teenage son after final exams

By the time you’re reading this, we’ll be at the airport. By ‘we’, I mean teenage son and I; he towering above me, and thus carrying 2 extra kilos for me in his backpack. Where are we going you wonder? Well I can’t quite believe my surf-addicted ’18’ has agreed to this, but he did, so we’re off to trek in Nepal! Remember the stressful exams and dessert-eating he’s we’ve just been through? All the weeks days hours of study he we sat through to get this burden of his our school life finished  forever? Somehow we clawed our way across the challenge, and now a new chapter awaits. But first, a little thing called ‘Schoolies’ here in Australia has to happen. We live near the Gold Coast/Surfer’s Paradise, where approximately 22,000 teenagers descend for a week of festivities and alcohol-fuelled celebrations, renting out every hotel, motel, Airbnb, and dodgy villa they can find, determined to party relentlessly along the 3-kilometre beach strip. *Shudders Some parents send their young adults to Bali, or Thailand as …

“There’s life in the old girl yet”; unbelievable update about Mum

No one wants to be a downer blogger. Generally speaking, I’m a pretty cheery, positive person, while also being sensitive to the cruelty and grief of merely being alive. My 82-yr old Mum (who lives in England, while I’m here in Australia) has Dementia, as most of you know, and I had a challenging time on my visit to her in August. She was still living alone in her rented flat, albeit supported by 5 Carer visits a day, and categorically refusing to even entertain the possibility/probability of needing to move to a group Home… Except events came to a head, as they are wont to do, and the Police were called a few times while Mum was wandering the neighbourhood feeling completely disorientated. I chose to keep all that quiet here, partly out of respect for her privacy, and also because I didn’t want to be a downer blogger. So she was recently moved into a small temporary Home nearby, for her safety and wellbeing, much to the family’s relief. But for her, the …

So proud and grateful for my followers on WordPress

Well this is an exciting milestone number isn’t it?

I remember when I first started this blog, in September 2015, just about to head to an old Barn in France with my son ’15-then’. We were planning to sit around in the French countryside, reading and writing for a couple of months; the birth of bone&silver was a perfect way to keep in touch with family and friends, but also commit myself to more regular writing… And we did just that. We read so many books between us, and I wrote two of my favourite ever posts: Creatively- “France is a desperate party girl.” Humorous- How to never end up at Shit Creek I had maybe 20 Followers at first, then a few more once I shared it to social media a few times, or emailed friends directly. I got more serious [i.e regular postings] about this blog once I began dating ‘H’ in Melbourne, so February 2017 is when I feel I really hit my stride; we used to dream about when I had 200 Followers, or even 500. “One day you’ll have a thousand, …

The Top 7 kidney ‘bad boys’, & I’m sure making a lot of green pulp too

Week One done of my 4-week Adrenal Recovery Program, and it’s a good thing I love celery: 500ml every morning first thing is a LOT of celery, and includes the leaves. Mmm, green and bitter, just how I like to start my day… There are also 7 Big Bad No-Nos I have to avoid at all costs- They’re not in order of importance, and call me Fussy, but it looks like 10 to me really #justsayin’-: Gluten & dairy Soy & corn Pork Eggs Canola oil Caffeine (tea & coffee) Alcohol The hardest one for me is eggs- I’m mostly vegan at home, but vegetarian when I’m out; sometimes I just crave a fried egg on [gluten-free] toast to fill me up in the morning. Without doubt, the other participants are struggling most with coffee and alcohol, which makes me super-grateful once again that I’ve somehow missed getting those vices. Any differences in my energy or sleep? I must admit the ‘Eat-every-2-hours-especially-fruit regime’ seems to suit my metabolism, and I have felt more consistent energy …

Then together, we walked peacefully off into the sunset, my kidneys & I

I’m a pretty healthy chick for 52; most of my friends would agree with that. But I’ve just signed up for a 4-week ‘Adrenal Recovery Program’, that includes 2 consultations with a Naturopath, plus 2 sessions with a Kinesiologist, as well as a weekly support group meeting with the 6 other participants. Why? And this is where most of the fellas may wanna tune out: because the ‘warm/hot flushes’ of the menopause are driving me a little crazy at night, and I’m hoping a kidney/adrenals re-set will help. If I’ve had the magic  8.5 hours sleep I need, I feel like I can run the world (and let’s face it, I’d do a fabulous job compared to Trump). But waking up hot half a dozen times, throwing covers on and off, then wrestling with annoying pillows just because I’m a bit cranky does NOT make me a good world leader (still better than Trump though of course). Part of the benefits of this Recovery program is supposedly deep, restful sleep; that is the new Black …

In my next life, I’m coming back as a sculptor, & here’s why

The little seaside town 10 minutes down the road from me just hosted its 3rd ‘Sculptures by the Sea’ event. It was simply wonderful, and began with sandy shoes scattered in the grass- hands up who hates sand in the house or bed after a walk on the beach? There were dozens of pairs, of all different types of shoes, re-purposed from the local op shops. The Spring weather was glorious, and it was lovely to just stroll around the parks and break wall, marvelling at the local creativity and talent. I was in such a relaxed daze though that I barely registered any artists’ names, so can’t give credit where it’s due; my apologies. That big old kangaroo had a good story though: a social worker told the artist she advised angry young boys in her care to take up a kangaroo stance, and send their fury down their tails into the ground behind them (an Indigenous strategy). My favourite aspect was the emphasis on recycled and found materials being re-purposed; the weaving with …

Treat me like a pin cushion if that will help

Jetlag recovery? Tick. 100% gratitude to be back home in Australia? Tick. Delighted cat and reasonably delighted-but-still-cool teenage son? Tick. Bullshit lung infection which had me sleeping almost sitting up for three nights then coughing my chest inside out for almost a week? Goddam tick. I AM SUCH A BAD PATIENT. As in, totally IM-patient. Don’t come near me; don’t sympathise with me; don’t tell me I’ll be better soon; don’t tell me about your neighbour who had it too, and how long it lasted, or the worst cough you ever had… Just leave me alone to wallow in my pathetic, grumpy, spoilt-brat sick bed, and give me a wide berth until further notice. Unless you’re my acupuncturist of course. In which case, I want you to come back early from your much-deserved holiday, and stick every single needle you have into every possible meridian point, all over my body, even if they grab or make me wince, and please just help make me better. Thanks. [The illness has actually shifted now, but this petulant rant …

“How much time have I got left?” Part Two

Deep in my essential core, I’m a dancer. I may be 52 now, and not quite as nimble as I used to be, but I still go to Swing Dance once a month, and my beloved 5Rhythms every week. Not to mention the regular groovy late-afternoon outdoor queer dance parties I sometimes see my son at. At age 28, living in Newtown, Sydney, and dancing at techno raves all weekend, I began to wonder if I could make a living with movement somehow… which led me to an extraordinary teacher, Janis Claxton. Her free, wild, & fiery moves still live in my body, while her feisty attitude found a match in mine, inspiring me to pursue performing/Clown/dance & Improvisation (which all still rock my creative world). Last week she died of lung cancer, aged 53.  At the Women’s Buddhist Dharma Day Part One last Sunday, facilitator Carol Perry asked us to reflect on the question I’ve titled this post with; of course, none of us know the answer, and therein lies one of the causes of …