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Shhh, stop speaking!

Posted on by KMS234

What’s on your mind?

This morning as I looked at that invitation on Facebook I felt I just had to respond.

Everything is on my mind Facebook, everything! And everything is on everyone else’s minds too!! And it’s driving me batshit crazy!!!!! 

Instant gratification. 

Instant feedback.

Reaffirmation.

Instant messaging. 

FOMO – fear of missing out.

Binge watching/streaming.

Pod casts.

On-line shopping. 

Express delivery.

Fast food.

Get rich quick schemes (not a new concept but belongs here).

Doesn’t anyone let themselves enjoy the feeling of anticipation anymore??  I’d also go so far as to ask if the last couple of generations even know what anticipation is?…..or will ever know?

Call me old fashioned, but is this the new age version of keeping up with the Joneses?! If it is, I want no part of it!

Is it any wonder a lot of folk are exhausted, angry, have anxiety and panic attacks, are dead broke, overweight, self-indulgent, self-centered, know-it-all-over-sharer’s? Isn’t anybody equipped with the skills to hold a good old fashioned conversation, or read a book in silence, word for word any more? Do we have to tell everyone everything all of the time?

Am I a dying breed of old school folk? I feel like I am this week. In the last 10 days alone, I have had two tv shows ruined by people who just HAD to tell me what happened next!  I have had to change radio stations because they talk about a show that was on the night before and I haven’t watched the episode yet. Oooh! Or how about…. “You’d love this book, it’s about blah, blah, blah, now you don’t need to read it”. Ugh! Spoiler alert anyone? *eye roll* C’mon!! Shut up already!

Personally, I enjoy the anticipation. I do not feel the need to know everything right now, or ever. If a tv show finishes, I like to bask in the glow of happy endings, or sit in the knowledge and feeling of sad or unexpected outcomes. I don’t care if one of the actors is actually gay, or is having an affair with such-and-such, either on the show or outside of it. Please, I implore you, just let me enjoy the story that was told! Or is being told, and for the love of my sanity and your physical safety, PLEASE DO NOT tell me the ending!!!

If I recommend a book or show to you, I will NOT tell you about it before you watch or read it, if you even bother to watch or read it! This in itself should be an indication of my expectations if you recommend one to me. Feel free to tell me the genre, but don’t give me a blow-by-blow account thanks. We can discuss it when we are both at the same point in the story.

It’s sad that we are losing our ability to communicate, our ability to enjoy and anticipate other people’s company and point of view without having had someone else’s enforced on them first, not forming our own opinions. It seems that any conversation or post on social media is just a way of trying to get one-up on everyone else. It’s almost like thumbing your nose at your “friends” and saying, look what I know/who I know/what I’m doing/what I did/what I’m going to do, I’m better than you, so there!

Why do we feel the need to have constant, and instant, feedback from others about every little thing or thought? Is it justification we’re good people, special people, doing the right thing? Is it that we want to be seen to be doing what all the cool kids are doing? Could it be our ego saying, “Hey, I’m better than you because I’m slimmer, stronger, faster, richer, happier than you”? Do we need to be seen to have “permission” that we are embarking on a worthy journey? That our opinion is always the right opinion and everyone else is wrong?

I consider myself to be a shy and private person on the whole. I tend not to pipe-up and post my opinions for the world to see unless absolutely pushed to do so – and this morning was the final straw on ruining one of my favourite tv shows. I’d be the first to admit that I certainly am not perfect. I have posted in the past to get some reassurance on something I’m thinking of doing or to tell my story as I experienced it, hopefully with modesty and humility (and a fair amount of humour, since life is way too serious most of the time). I don’t want any special attention or congratulations, I prefer to try to let others experience the journey with me, like they were there. To give the experience to someone who will never be able to partake in whatever it is for reasons such as financial limitations, life commitments or physical ability.

I hate show-offs, snobs, arrogant, cocky, loud, in-your-face, judgemental, lazy, controlling, rude, obnoxious people. I will generally back-down and stay silent if I’m faced with any of these. Unfortunately, social media platforms allow people to be all of these things, from a distance, protected by the so-called “right to free speech” and to have the bravado to do so because it’s online and not face-to-face. Would you say and be such an ugly version of yourself if you were in touching distance of the person, and had to look them in the eye when you said it? No? Then don’t bloody say it online!!!

I’ve digressed, slightly. Technology is not our friend when it comes to personal relationships. Keep it real people. LISTEN. HEAR. Use your manners. Respect others. Have a back and forth conversation, not a game of one-upmanship. BE KIND.

Don’t spoil things for other people. Get back in your box, stay in your lane, stop bursting my bubble and don’t ruin the ending!

Not everyone wants instant gratification.

A view from the sidelines.

Posted on by KMS234

Recently I bore witness to a competition of sorts, and the aftermath of the results.  Now, I say ‘of sorts’ because some people would consider the prize a punishment rather than a gift.  A call went out for anyone interested, to apply to be trained and supported all the way up to (12 months worth) and entry into, a 200 mile running race.

Crazy right?!!  You betcha.  To anyone interested in running though, this is the ultimate opportunity.  The entry fee alone into these types of races is high, $1000 plus.  Getting there, accommodation, food, equipment, training and body maintenance (think physio, podiatry, OT, chiro, strength & conditioning training…etc) are all added expenses.  For the average Joe the cost is simply prohibitive and so even considering whether you are capable of such a feat or not becomes null and void.

With this enormous prize at stake and knowing I’d give it a decent crack if I had the chance, I sent in an application.  Of nearly 50 applicants, 12 semifinalists were chosen.  I was not one of them.  However, someone I know was selected.

So it began, I followed the training of all of the semifinalists with a curious and envious eye.  It didn’t take me long to make some general observations about the group chosen as contenders for this opportunity.

Firstly, the vast majority were mostly in the ‘mature’ age group – over 30 years old and at least half I think were over 40.  I wondered if the applicants as a whole who applied where in this age bracket too.  And if so, is that because we have had more exposure to life’s ugly side than our younger cohorts?  So we already know within ourselves we have the mental strength to get us through 200 miles of physical hardship? Maybe.

Secondly, each semifinalist had had a major negative life experience of some description in their past, or were still suffering in the present.  Be it a physical or mental episode, or combination of both, their stories are ones you wouldn’t wish on anyone.  I’m pretty sure this is where I was discounted as a contender.  I have been fortunate enough in my life thus far, to have avoided any major traumas.  In saying this, I do not deny any of the semifinalists their having been chosen.  We all deserve to prove to ourselves and others that we can survive anything, and that an experience like this may very well change the lives of those who have experienced the truly ugly side of life, for the better, more than it would someone like myself.

Next, was the physical appearance of each person.  A true cross-section of the human form.  Some who looked physically able to give it a good go without too much trouble, right across the board to those that would require some pre-training training to even get them to begin the long haul to the start line.

Across the month of training they were put through, some folk were very serious and didn’t give much away while others were more candid, casual and even tardy at times.

It was a mixed bag of people, like liquorice allsorts if you will.

Similar to any diverse group of people, each semi-finalist experienced their own journey, and went through their own “stuff” during this time.  Not least because of the endless encouragement to open up and share with everyone – think Facebook – their current emotions and pros & cons of the programme for the week.  Share their reason for applying in the first place, share their struggle to fit in the training around their normal lives involving family & work, share their feelings, experiences….share, share, share.

But what all this sharing really exposed to me as a bystander, was the ripping apart of the scars that had taken many long and difficult hours to close over and heal the wounds inflicted on each individual by their past personal traumas.  I had to wonder if this was really a good thing.

Encouraging some of the most vulnerable individuals to lay open their souls to public judgement and ridicule (be honest, this is exactly what we as people do to each other) was never going to be the best idea ever.  Was it?  No.  Sure, supply them with “psychological”  support for the month of training, but what about once the finalists are announced and everyone goes back to their life before the competition?

I spent many an hour speaking with several semifinalists during their time of training, in the weeks before the finalists were chosen, and also since that very public disclosure of who had been given the final nod of approval.

Yes, approval.  We approve that you are good enough to do this.

Did it cross anyone’s minds as to how those not named would react to this?  A very loud and resounding “YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH” is what was feared and heard on that day.  Not only were these concerns voiced in the conversations I had with people, but it was written clear as day on their faces during the presentation.

To the sensitive folk that made up this grouping, this kind of slap in the face and feelings of inadequacy, was everything they had likely fought tooth and nail to overcome in the past and they had just found themselves right back at square one, or even further back than they had ever been before.

Confusion was, and still is, the biggest feeling amongst those I am in contact with.  Confused about what had been expected of them in the first instance – what to write in the application to be accepted as a semi-finalist.  Then, what on earth had they actually written that got them selected and hence forth what to try and work on and show the selection panel why they should be a finalist?  Was it physical ability?  Was it a mental strength?  Was it an interest in the systematic piecing together of elements that would get them to the start line of a 200 mile race?  Was it being that squeaky wheel and grabbing their attention every chance they got?  What could they possibly have done differently to make the judges take notice of them?

Knowing who the finalists are now has not made the decision process any clearer to the rest of the group as to why they were not chosen or to what they could have done differently to have been selected instead.  There was always going to be just two out of 12 to continue on this journey, but how pray-tell did the organisers plan on dealing with those that FAILED in their quest?  Are they even aware of the havoc they have wreaked in the lives of those “not good enough” to continue?  Are they attuned to the fallout of the encouraged emotional outpouring during the selection process and the life foundations they have shattered in doing so?  Do they know what the families and friends surrounding the unsuccessful are now dealing with?  Or how those families and friends may have been affected themselves by a loved-ones forced return to the deepest darkest parts of their lives?  Their defeat and subsequent backslide into mental anguish, self abuse or isolation?  It doesn’t appear so.

Would I apply for something similar in the future?  Most likely not.  Would I support or recommend anyone else apply for something like this?  Tentatively, yes.  BUT,  I would try and instil in them a healthy dose of scepticism and forewarning of what could be at stake.  I would ask them to be honest with themselves, are they strong enough to fail?  Is their skin thick enough to withstand the naysayers along the way?  Are they gutsy enough to support fellow competitors rather than tear them down?  Are they willing to run a fair and honest race without manipulating in any way shape or form, those that will be choosing the finalists?

Are they brave enough to say ‘no’ if they are not?

By elevating a precious few, we down tread the masses.  In current times we have the technology that allows a more rampant spread of attention seeking, bullying, judgement, ridicule and self-loathing than ever before.  We as a society seem to be becoming a more sensitive and anxious bunch as the years go by due to this ease of communication.

Should we then, not know better than to set people like this up to fail?  Should we not set-up a solid framework to support them when they do?  Was this the best way to go about trying to change the lives of , and inspire other people, into showing them that they are good enough, that they are deserving of more, that they are capable of being loved and giving love?  That they can have peace in their lives?  I don’t think so.

AND, who is accountable when an individual does the unthinkable due to not making the cut?

Just quietly, at this point I am mighty glad I wasn’t chosen as a semifinalist. My view from the sidelines was more than enough.

Death is final.

Posted on by KMS234

Or is it?  Your body is dead, yes, but your existence until now and the memories held by those you came in contact with keep you alive – of sorts.  You will always live on in the hearts and minds of your family and friends, associates and enemies (we all have them so let’s be honest about it).

Recently a close high school friend passed away unexpectedly.  He was 43 years old.  As far as I am aware, he was reasonably healthy, fairly fit and in no way expected to die any time soon.  Sure, he was no uber athlete.  He drank, could probably have stood to lose a couple of kilos, likely ate Maccas and Hungry Jacks more often than he should have but don’t we all?  Guilty on all of those counts?  I know I am.  Most people I know would be too.

So how do we deal with the sudden departure of a loved one from our lives?  One day at a time is how.  I’ve had a week to process his passing now and have had a thousand memories and thoughts flooding my mind and subconscious during that time.  How?  Why?  How will his children cope?  What about his parents?  His partner?!  How would I feel if it were me who lost my partner like that?!  Shelter, food, money, normal life, a will, organising a funeral, going back to work, re-entering everyday life…………….???!!!!  And none of this involves me or is any of my business.  Or is it?

What if I did find myself in the same position?  Do I have a will?  Are my finances and debts organised so as not to impact someone else in a negative way?  Nor benefit the banks or government!  How would my parents feel?  Friends?  Do I speak to them often enough, do I see them as much as I could?  Do I tell them I love them each time I say goodbye?  Food for thought.

I set out to write this blog as a way of getting out of my head all the things I remember about my friend, Adam.  That was your given name but at school we called you Snoopy.  To this day I have no idea why or how you got that nickname.  Perhaps a mutual friend will enlighten me upon reading this.  The name stuck so well that most, if not all, of the teachers called you Snoopy too.  Adam just sounds weird.  Even nearly 30 years later when we’re all grown up!

Snoopy was a fellow boarder at a school in Townsville, Queensland, Australia.  There were approximately 200 boarders at the time and initially I think only three of them were boys.  By the time I graduated five years later there were somewhere between 10 and 20.  Snoopy arrived a couple of years after me so was really one of the founding few boys to board.  He helped set the scene so to speak.  Right now I am laughing because those poor boarding masters had NO idea what they were in for!

Snoopy was a larger than life character (and physically very tall – six foot plus!  I am five foot nothing.  He was loud, cheeky, naughty and a lot of fun.  He was never mean or nasty.  A gentleman with the ladies.  Smooth, confident and mature beyond his years.

My high school memories feature Snoopy for the most part.  He was just always there.  We, or I at least, took it for granted that he always would be.  Just one sarcastic comment away on Facebook, even though we live on opposite sides of the country.  He was just always present in the periphery of my life.

Even though Snoopy was not physically interacting with me from day to day or week to week, I feel his absence like a flatness.  My daily activities don’t feel so enjoyable right now.  Over time this will pass but for now I miss the little jibes and comments from afar.  I know there is someone missing.

I last saw Snoopy at the school centenary celebrations about 18 months ago.  And before that maybe seven years prior.  But each time it was like only a few weeks had passed.  Boarding schools will do this to you.  You make friends for life.  Even the people you didn’t know very well back then, you still have a connection with them.  You had a similar experience, it was you against those in authority and the system.  What could you achieve together as a bonded group?  Which boundaries could you push and perhaps even change?  Yeah, we had each others backs, still do.

You could always rely on Snoopy as a friend.  He accompanied me to the senior formal and another girl to her debutante ball.  As requested, he dressed the part (matching blue bow-tie and cummerbund with tails for my formal (yes you may laugh, it was 1990 – practically still the 80’s), suit and white gloves for the debutante ball) , conducted himself as a gentleman, learnt to dance and how to present a lady to society.

Don’t get me wrong, the man was no saint.  He did all the things young men do in their youth.  Fortunately without sustaining any major injuries or lasting consequences.  Speedboat racing if anything, was the one activity I felt might see him depart this world too soon.  But no, he got away with it.  Likely enjoyed getting away with it too.  I can see the smirk on his face now.  That cheeky twinkle in his eye knowing he out smarted the fates of daredevils.

My favourite memory of his naughty nature is from the formal.  As the waiters circled the tables offering alcoholic beverages to the parents, one such server asked Snoopy if he would like a drink………we looked at each other (both of us knowing full well he was a few years under age), smiled, his eyes twinkled, he smirked then turned back to the waiter and said “no thank you” with a little giggle.  Later in the evening I found him at the bar outside the ballroom having a drink and a smoke.  High school boys!  Snoopy!  *sigh*  I was not surprised and would have expected nothing less of the boy.

I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend his funeral tomorrow but I am glad that my final memories of Snoopy are happy ones and by that I mean he was so very happy.  Happy in love and life.  A few years ago we shared dating escapades and laughed at our misfortunes on that front.  It’s a whole different ball game in your 40’s let me tell you!  Just a couple of months before I met my current partner, Snoopy met his.  We asked each other if we were in the friend zone, were we fence sitting, was this the one?!

Rochelle, rest assured, you were definitely his ‘one’.  He was so chuffed that you put up with his (and I quote) ‘not conforming’.   I think this means he was indecisive and messy…..impulsive?  No inkling of how some of us like a neat and ordered world (call it OCD if you must).  If that was the case then Rochelle you are one good woman!  I know he loved you (and you him).  It was so, so nice to see you together at the school centenary. You obviously made each other very happy.  I know you will cherish your memories of your time together.  You are so fortunate to have met such a lovely person.

So if you’re still with me here, make the most of every moment with your loved ones.  Appreciate the little moments in life.  Enjoy the company of good people.  Do not waste your time in a job you hate, there are always other options.  Make the most of your opportunities.  Do the things that scare you.  Talk to people – and I don’t mean the creepy, stranger on the train giving you the stalker stare!  The people serving you in shops or restaurants.  The people in your office.  Other dog walkers.  Compliment a random stranger on their shoes/hat/dress/colour of shirt.  Be nice.  You never know when it will suddenly be over.

Goodbye my friend.  You will be greatly missed by many people.  You will always be in my memories and high school would never have been the same without you.  Try not to get up to too much mischief with Clancy B. and I will volunteer Hayley to accompany me to a marathon one day soon in your honour – we will just have to imagine you holding the water bottles……….arhem! Cocktails, I mean cocktails!  This world is already lesser for your passing.

With love xx

Life Appreciation.

Posted on by KMS234

Recently I have found myself wondering why a lot of folk make such a big deal of little things.  Yes, it’s possible that what appears a small issue to me is insurmountable for them.  But is it really?

I am lucky enough to be surrounded by many family and friends spread around the globe and have had the fortune to be born in a first world country that allows me the privilege of social media to observe and remain in contact with this amazing group of individuals.

What I have observed and witnessed more and more of over the years (and perhaps my ageing eye and life experience is kicking in here) is that at any one time a handful of these people are suffering and they like others to know about it.  They are angry.  They are sad.  They are in pain – occasionally physical but mostly mental.  The latter brought on by the former on occasion.  I myself am not immune to this either.  Misery shared is misery halved, right?

I like to think that I don’t live my life like a storm in a teacup for the sake of not being boring, or seeking attention.  I hope that I don’t over-react or knee-jerk react to situations that don’t warrant it.  So much of how we communicate with others today (social media I’m singling you out!) begs us to provoke a reaction from others – many of whom we don’t even know.  All in the name of validating ourselves in a world we feel doesn’t even know we exist.  Does it really matter that we don’t know and can’t know every single person on this planet?

Why are we not happy with knowing we are well loved in our own little, immediate circle of family and friends and don’t need to be making a statement or point to someone at the opposite end of the world?  Yes I know it’s nice to connect with others experiencing the same things the way we do and to show-off how smart, fun-loving, good-looking, happy, healthy and right we are.

What big fat liars most of us are.  It’s mostly fake.  And it’s mostly playing one-upmanship with each other.  Look how much better I am than you at…..whatever (insert superficial subject/action here).  We are all guilty of this at some point or another but other people live their entire lives this way.

Don’t get me wrong, I do see the positive side of connecting with others this way.  The encouragement we can give each other to pursue our dreams and goals is fantastic.  But there’s always going to be that handful of naysayers and negative ninnies (oh my goodness, how old am I??!!).  Ignore those people.  They are not worth your time.

My topic here is to those living amongst us who can’t seem to over-come their initial insult-to-ego, hurt, anger, sadness and pain of a situation that they have experienced.  For the rest of us, I’d hope that this blog serves as a reminder, that when we are feeling sorry for ourselves to not overlook but appreciate what we have and the little moments in every day that we live.

There are an infinite number of life experiences to be had.  All dependent on the initial basic of where we are born.  Who we are born of.  And the paths we follow from there.  Some may be lucky enough to be a part of an original nuclear family still.  Some have separated parents.  Some are estranged from family.  Some have family already passed on.  Some have children.  Some have lost children.  Some don’t have children.  Others are married or in long-term relationships mimicking marriage.  Some have never been married.  Others remain single.  There are those with high-paying jobs, those struggling to pay the bills and many unable to work for one reason or another.  There is financial freedom for some in home ownership.  Many rent for life.  Another group depend on others (government, family, friends, strangers even…) to live.  My point is, everyone is different and every life experience is different.  In our world of privilege (yes if you are reading this you are more than likely living a life of privilege – are you living in a war zone?  Are you starving in a refugee camp?  Are you collecting rubbish/rotten food/begging for money to merely exist?  No?  Then you are very, very lucky AND privileged).

So I ask you to take a look at yourself and your life.  Right now.  Are you being truthful with yourself and others?  Are you putting someone down in order to make yourself feel better because they hurt you?  Are you making your life harder than it needs to be?  Are you nice to others and yourself in everything you do and say?  Are you seeking attention instead of resolution?  Are you punishing yourself and everyone around you for decisions you (or others – thinking parents here) have made in your life?  Decisions that at the time were the right ones?

The unfortunate thing about life is we can’t go back and live the “what if?” scenario.  We can’t go back and live through the other options.  We are where we are now as a summary of the choices we have made thus far in our lives.  We can LEARN from our experiences and outcomes of those choices or we can continue to dwell on “what if”.

From time to time we all wonder what would have happened if we had chosen a different path of education or work.  Whether we fought those in authority or those more wise than us, every step of the way, simply because we were stubborn and so self-knowing that we strived to get our own way rather than hear and use the experience offered to us?  Have we remained unmarried because of our parents experiences and their perceived influence it’s had on our lives?  Or are we blaming our parental influences for the breakdown of our own personal relationships?  Have we not had children because of this, because biology has denied us that right or we simply didn’t want any?  Were children born to “fix” a relationship or because they are seen as the next step in society’s idea of what we should be doing?  Was the expense of marriage and children taken into consideration or was it a fly by the seat of one’s pants kind of life happening?  OR, was it assumed somewhere in our dim dark subconscious, that none of this would need the time and attention and planning to survive in what we call our lives because it’s what everyone else has done?

How we love to blame everyone but ourselves.  Surely it was not MY fault I am where I am?!!  IF I’d had the choice I’d have……done it differently?  Umm, you did have the choice!  You made it!  You can’t go back and change it.  Don’t dwell on it, LEARN from it!  AND!  Remember why the choice was made in the first place.  It was the right one at the time.

Everyone has a different story to tell and the path they took to get there is many and varied.  We’ve all been scared, angry, hurt, sad and felt hopeless.  It will pass but you must let it.  Experience the feelings, take your time but don’t take forever.  Don’t live and re-live past situations.  What’s done is done!  Move forward.  Empower yourself with information.  Be your own tower of strength.  Help yourself to move onwards and upwards each and every day.  The internet is an immense pool of information (a good portion of it incorrect so make your research vast reaching and varied in view point).  Talk to your elders – yes, contrary to the popular belief of the young, those older than us generally gather wisdom as they age (again, not everyone is wise or mature just because they are older than us).  Mix with a varied age-group and really HEAR what they are saying, listen between the lines if you will.

Be NICE.  To everyone, starting with yourself.  I don’t mean be nice to yourself by spending money on “things” or “experiences” either.  Don’t say mean things to yourself in your head.  Stop calling yourself stupid all of the time.  Don’t dwell on mistakes.  Apologise for wrong-doings immediately and from the heart.  Never say sorry if you don’t mean it.  Let the anger/fear/feelings pass, analyse the situation and then apologise with sincerity.  Sometimes we need to be the bigger person and apologise before others involved will return the sentiment.  BE the better person without resentment and then move on.

Don’t forget the good times.  You may have experienced a romantic relationship for years, decades even, that others never will.  Perhaps it has now ended, and ended badly (this is generally the way it goes unless you are Gwenyth Paltrow and Chris Martin who “consciously uncoupled”).  Keep in your angry little mind that not everyone is fortunate enough to have shared their lives with that one special individual they loved for years on end.  Some look for love for most of their lives, to share and build a life in partnership with another being.  We are after all is said and done, social beings.  We want to share and experience together.

As a never-been-married and childless individual, this is my bug-bear with people who can’t see what they once had.  They continue to live the ending of that relationship.  They take forward with them and imprint on future relationships that ALL men/women are terrible, horrible, only out to get my money or destroy my life people.  They are suspicious of everyone else’s motives, they never trust that the love they once had was pure and without judgement.  They make future partners prove themselves, yet did they enforce this on their original love/relationship?  What happened to that carefree, optimistic person?  Oh right!  They have let themselves be consumed and ultimately destroyed by what is just a normal, although unpleasant, life experience.  Do take what you have learned from your experience and apply it cautiously to your future endeavours but move on.  Oh my goodness!  I’ve never been married and I have offered up my opinion!  How dare I??!!

So let me speak of another view I have, even though I don’t have any myself.  If you have children from any relationship, then you as an adult, need now to realise that this is your life no longer.  Like a pet, just a much longer lasting (we hope) and more intricate relationship, it is your responsibility to feed, shelter and love that being.  It is your job to teach them how to get on in this world.  Set a good example for everything.  How to interact with people in a socially acceptable way – manners please!  Respect others and their property.  How to be financially smart.  How to be nice and kind.  How to observe and be open-minded, not judgmental and unwilling to accept that there are more ways to live than your own.  Show them!  They are not mind readers and nor are they born with the knowledge.  READ!  And read a lot.  Read diverse things.  Talk about diverse things.  Discuss options, don’t tell them how it is and must be.

Am I wrong just because I don’t have children?  Are my observations and opinions worth less than those who have kids?  Shoot me now.

Another of my pet peeves is people who complain about not having enough money to pay bills, feed their family, keep up with Kerry Packer.  Please!  I beg you!  Have a good hard look at what you spend your money on.  AND BE HONEST!!!!  Truly!  Do you need to wax your legs/armpits/bikini line/mustache every month ladies? No you don’t.  It is a financial privilege.  Buy coffee and or lunch everyday?  Another financial privilege.  Drive your car instead of taking public transport because you think it’s icky/smelly/inconvenient/beneath you?  Do you have the biggest and best TV (and more than one) because everyone else does and you think you just can’t live without it?  A subscription to Foxtel?  Ridiculous mobile must-haves, data allowances etc?  Holidays?  Do you have an addiction sending you broke?  Coffee?  Cigarettes?  Alcohol?  Porn?  Horse betting?  Pokies?  Drugs?  Sugar?  Internet shopping?

BE HONEST!  You don’t need any of these things.  Stop being so selfish and thinking you have to make everyone think you have the best life ever.  No one does.  By all means keep up your general appearance and health but don’t send yourself broke or into debt for it.  Most of us have had to work hard for and have fought for our financial freedom – in other words we pay our own way and don’t rely on family to keep us.  Only a very tiny portion of the population is born into money.  And most of us know, more often than not, these people don’t appreciate how difficult it can be to earn a dollar.  Do not lose sight of the fact that WE ARE ALL in similar boat.  Stop trying to live above your means.  No one else cares!  We’re all too busy trying to stop our own boats from sinking to notice your hairless arms and Chanel handbag!

Not to mention, what on earth do you think you are teaching your children??!  Show them how to cook healthy, cheap meals.  Let them look nice without paying hundreds or even thousands of dollars on branded items.  Teach them how to respect themselves and others by showing them how you talk to and interact with the people around you.  Kids are sponges and will parrot what you do and say.  Yep, all out of the mouth of a non-parent.  There I go again!

It doesn’t matter where you are in life, single, never married, purchasing your own house.  Married, shaked-up, with children, renting.  At some stage you have to make compromises and sacrifices.  This is part of being an adult.  We can’t live like Hollywood rockstars if we are not earning millions of dollars to pay for it.

So.  Go forth, be kind, appreciate the small joys in life and remember there is always someone worse off than you and that you are not the first person to ever go through whatever you are going through.  Don’t push away the help being offered because you are too egotistical and deaf to everyone but your own sorry-arsed self.  Do your best not to judge, belittle, patronise, hurt or maim anyone. We are all fighting the same battle.  Life.

Disco is Dead.

Posted on by KMS234

It’s a new era.  Disco is dead.  Discocat that is.  My tuxedo wearing, cranky cat, lost her final marble in October last year.

It happened relatively quickly over a week to ten days.  In the end she couldn’t hear or see, and she was losing strength and balance in her back legs, so the decision to put her to sleep was an easy one.  That’s not to say that the act of watching it happen was easy – far bloody from it!  It was the single most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.  Ever.  I knew it would be but nothing prepares you for letting go of a beloved pet.

18 years we spent together.  Mostly with a healthy understanding that I was not to pick-up nor pat said kitty unless requested to do so.  This was a very rare occurrence and one I took full advantage of every chance I could.  The older she got the more chances I was granted – perhaps she finally couldn’t be bothered fighting back.  Whatever the reason, I loved those last cuddles with my geriatric cat.

Discocat came to me from a pet shop in central coastal Queensland.  I had a choice between a long-hair Persian kitten for $200, or my $10 bargain basement short-hair tuxedo moggy.  Many, many times I have been reminded over the years that you get what you pay for……….hmmm.

We moved house eight times, two of them house purchases.  She saw me through three retrenchments and seven jobs.  One intra-state move (by car as the small planes wouldn’t fly animals) and one inter-state move (clear across the country from Queensland to Western Australia in a big jet plane).  And about a half a dozen boyfriends of which she really only warmed (ever so slightly) to two of.

My friends were well aware of her cranky antics from their first meeting, yet most still wanted to pat her – her coat was always so soft and silky, just begging to be stroked.  She enjoyed lovingly, if not greedily, to lick food off of your finger and then bite it afterwards because there was nothing left.  Personally I think she thought it was chicken (her favourite) and just wanted a nibble.  Nothing surprised me like her love for corn though.  Frozen corn, cooked or her absolute favourite, corn on the cob.  What a mess she used to make (always on the carpet, corn sticks best to that!) spreading the little bits and pieces everywhere as she chewed on the cob, stripping it of any remaining corn kernels.  She started this at a few weeks old and loved it up until her final weeks.

D.C. struck fear into the heart of many a dog, young child and adult.  The ONLY person she was ever civil to all of the time was surprisingly her last vet.  Now you’d think that the smell of the surgery would give her some inkling as to where we were and that it usually involved a painful jab, a look at her teeth, a probe in her ears and a poke up the backside.  But it never seemed to bother her.  The only indication she gave of not wanting to be there was to try and get back in her basket as fast as she could.  She never bit that vet, scratched him and from memory only hissed at him once.

My life would never have been the same without her in it.  We saw and did a lot together.  She was beside me through many heartbreaks and life-changes and I hope I provided her with the best life a kitty could have in return for her company – albeit on her terms.  I miss her dearly and still can’t fathom getting another cat.  Not yet.  My Discocat was a one of a kind.

She came into my life with (c)attitude and went out of this world showing the same don’t mess with me character.  As the vet administered the injection and she went to sleep, I stroked her coat and she hissed at me.  Go figure.

I will never forget you my Discocat.

RIP D.C.  1999 – 2017

ANZAC Day, 2017

Posted on by KMS234

ANZAC:  Australian and New Zealand Army Corps

Today is ANZAC Day.  April 25th.  Today is the day we remember our fallen soldiers and thank those who have returned from serving or are currently serving our country.

Today I feel ungrateful.  My life has been sheltered and peaceful.  I don’t know the horrors and anxiety that come with having  been in a warzone nor witnessed the atrocities that people are capable of.  I’m a coward.  Or at least I feel like one.

I am not ungrateful though.  I really do appreciate those people, some of them family, others friends, who have served in the armed forces.  In whatever capacity.  You stepped up and did what you could for peace in this world.  My peace.  My freedom.  So, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Most days I go about my life, ignorant of the fact that there are currently many conflicts waging across the planet.  Not because I don’t care, I do, but because it’s not a part of my everyday life and never has been.  Yes I do deliberately avoid the news, it’s sad and depressing most of the time.  Part of the reason for this is self-preservation.  Preserving a certain amount of mental sanity.  Why drive myself into a state of distress over a situation that I as an individual cannot fix?  I feel like I can serve others best by supporting those closest to me on a person-by-person basis and being as kind and caring as possible to everyone I come in contact with.  Treat others as I wish to be treated.

There are many individuals within my group of family and friends, some I know of, others I don’t, that suffer any or all of the following conditions:  anxiety, depression & PTSD (and many other related afflictions I’m sure).  Not all of these people have served in the forces, most are everyday citizens like myself.  But regardless of how these conditions took root within the psyche of each person, I feel I can best help and support them by not joining their ranks if at all possible.  Not watching the news is a part of my defence system.  Avoiding conflict over politics, religion and money are others.  There’s enough anger in this world without me being apart of it.

Now, I know a lot of folk who may think I’m a bit cold and abrasive when discussing a sensitive topic like mental health.  That I appear not to take the emotional side onboard.  I do, but I do so at arms length.  I’m aware that I do this.  Some of the reason is because I don’t know what to say or how to say it, nor do I wish to offend or upset anyone.  I don’t want to look or sound like I KNOW what you are feeling because quite simply I don’t.  What I do want, is to UNDERSTAND as best I can and how I might best support you.

So here is what I really wanted to say today, please, please know, that if you have served your country and especially mine, Australia, and afforded me my freedom to live my life in peace and quiet (often misconstrued as ignorance), thank you.  I am ever so grateful and not ignorant at all, but as little as most people discuss their experiences at war, I too rarely discuss my experiences in peace.  And I like to think I do so out of respect.  I don’t want to rub salt in any wounds.

Admittedly I could do with remembering those that suffered and continue to suffer, more often than I do.  I won’t deny that.  So, please, if you wish to help remind me of how I am able to live with my freedoms, both physical and mental, then hit me up.  Or if you just fancy a chat, some company and a cuppa, give me a shout.

Anyone who knows me well, knows my tea drinking habits and let’s face it, my kettle is always on!  My door is mostly open whilst I’m at home and on the hunt for a job (that’s a blog for another day right there), so come on over and let’s have a cuppa and maybe if you’re lucky, a piece of cake if I’ve been cooking (advance notice required for gluten or dairy free).

 

 

 

Here comes Christmas!

Posted on by KMS234

How is it nearly Christmas 2016??!!  Where has the time gone?  I know I say this every year, but every year truly does seem to go by faster than the last.  Apparently my parents weren’t kidding.  The older you get, the faster life goes.

It’s been a year of change for me and at times seemed to drag, so I am quite surprised to find myself nearly at the end of it all, only to start another round next year of course.

I started this year still heartbroken and in the middle of marathon training.  At the peak of my training I began dating and was retrenched from my long-hated job.  The first half of the year was capped off with completing my first ever marathon and a much deserved holiday in China afterwards.

Upon my return home I began dating again.  I struggled though the time marking the year since “he” left and turned my world upside down.  It was tough.  I still have my rough days even now but mostly they are gone.

In August I had my arm twisted to run another marathon.  How could I say “no” to the following statement:  How often will you get the chance to run for your country, in your home town?  Who was I to argue with that?  Hand over the green and gold thanks!

So I did it.  I ran another marathon.  Two in one year.  Do you hear that screaming?  Me too!  MID LIFE CRISIS!!!   A forty-something, cat-owning, marathon-running, unemployed, single-but-dating female.

Classic.

And to top it off, the world around me has seemingly gone mad.  Donald Trump is going to be the president of the USA.  New Zealand (and now Japan) are being flattened by earth quakes.  My mum went to the physio for the first time AND got a  new mobile phone.  And count them, seven, SEVEN couples I have known for many years are splitting up.

Is it wrong for me to feel lucky to finally feel happy in myself?  Happy I don’t have to feel  the feelings of sadness, anger, anxiety, grief and hopelessness that these once happy couples are now facing?  I hope not.  I actually am glad to be over that stage for not just the obvious reasons but so that I am in a place where I feel I can support any of these friends if they need me to.  I’m pretty much back to my “rock” status.

The calm, self-assured, independent and confident (observed by others but I’m really faking it ’til I make it with that one) lady I once was.  Go me!

Unfortunately, the only smudge on the horizon is that I will need to get another job next year as I haven’t won lotto.  And the mortgage needs paying so the cat has somewhere to live.  Thankfully I feel I can face that challenge when it arrives now.

So I have a month until I head off for the silly season holidays, there’s Christmas presents to find and buy, a birthday or two as well, and plans to make for next year.  But I’m not stressing about any of it.  I am going to enjoy this Christmas with my family and friends.  Life will go on whether I worry about it or not.  So 2017 can wait.

Bring on Christmas (and the mistletoe!)!!

ps  If you have any gift ideas please leave in the comments below  😉

 

Why are we here?

Posted on by KMS234

Nowt so queer as folk!  Especially the 40-something, hormonal-swinging, unemployed, lonely, female variety.  That’s me I’m referring to.  Yep.  One minute I’m perfectly happy, rolling along, doing my own thing and tooting my own horn.  Then BAM!  I’ve lost that feeling of self-worth, no-one misses me, I’m sick and tired of being my own cheerleader and I need a hug.

If anyone has read the book The 5 Love Languages, it’ll make perfect sense when I tell you I’m a person who thrives on physical touch.  Fairly closely followed by receiving gifts.  Neither of which is abundantly available when you are single. So what’s a girl to do?  Well, she gets a massage or a facial, goes to the physio or chiro (painful options but touch none-the-less), goes to yoga (yogi’s tend to be a bit more touchy-feely types) and buys herself gifts (a.k.a.  retail therapy).

No I’m not romantically interested in my massage therapist, physio, chiro or yoga instructor, but it is touch enough that I feel validated as a person.  I exist.  And I am “loved” by these people (healers if you will).  Ridiculous I know.  It sounds bonkers to me even.  But isn’t this life?  Isn’t this why we’re here?

Perhaps originally we evolved as a simple species, just procreating and ensuring the survival of our bloodlines.  But then we grew smarter, we created tools, we learned to save the weaker of the species, we learned to speak and think for ourselves.  Have we gotten too big for our boots?

As an educated woman, one who has held down professional positions most of her working life, I now find myself without a job and plenty of time on my hands to think, a LOT.  I can mull things over, over-think things and generally get lost inside my own head, arguing in circles with myself about, well, everything.  Like, why are we here?  What is the point of life?  Were we really supposed to sit in tall concrete towers all day, beavering away at jobs that, let’s face it, most of us hate, most of the time?  Were we supposed to yearn to be the richest, smartest, most physically perfect beings?  Or were we just supposed to just ‘be’.  Be together.  Be happy.  Be satisfied with the basics.  Food.  Shelter.  Warmth.  Belonging.

Right now I don’t want to go back to the rat race.  I simply want to live.  To live side-by-side in peace with my fellow beings.  Specifically, I want to love and to be loved by another.  I don’t want to work at a job I hate in order to buy a big house and expensive things to attract a mate who strives to be the biggest and the best as well.  Just because everyone else is, doesn’t mean we all should.  And to what end are we doing this?  To conquer the world?  Oh please!  Life is not a competition, but we’ve sure as hell made it one!

I’ve reached a cross-road in my life and I’m feeling a bit lost.  I don’t want to compete anymore.  I want to be a part of a team.  I want to support and encourage another to achieve a worthwhile existence.  I want to be supported and loved and happy and healthy.  I’ve said before that I am happy in my own company, and I am.  But as the saying goes, no man is an island.  Or in the politically correct version, no person is an island.  We were never as a species supposed to live alone.

So today I feel like I need a hug.  My hormones are driving me bananas, I’ve had a few unexpected  feelings resurface about the past these last few days, I’m feeling unsure about where I’m heading in life and love.  And generally I feel unworthy of existing.  I observe everyone around me living busy, happy and fulfilling lives.  I’m not sure where I fit in at the moment.

Slightly depressing, yes.  But there’s a million different ways it could play out.  I might be proposed to tomorrow by a dying billionaire.  I might win lotto (if I ever buy that ticket).  I might be gifted a massive inheritance by a stranger (because I don’t want it to be one of my loved ones).  I might write a book that the world falls over themselves to buy.  I might find buried treasure.  I might become a world-famous chef.  I might design palace worthy gardens. I might find an occupation I love and make money out of it.  I might fall in love, with me, and then, maybe, just maybe, I might fall in love with a man who also loves me, for me.

And then………I might just get that hug I so desperately crave.  That’s why I’m here anyway.  How about you?

Position Vacant

Posted on by KMS234

So, anyone following this blog from the beginning will know I’ve had a big year.  From broken soul to a hopeful re-entry into ‘life’.  Marathons run, travels overseas, tentative first dates.  What I haven’t mentioned is the forced unemployment.  Nope!  No panic, it was quite the blessing in disguise.

You see, I was paid to leave a job that I had hated for nearly five years.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!  It was about two weeks before I left for China which suited me just fine.  It left me able to finish my training wherever and whenever I liked.  Perfect.

Yes I still have bills to pay but I have enough of a leeway for about a year – if I’m careful.  Nice!  This is after all perhaps the last chance I will get to have some time off before I retire.  Unless I win lotto in the mean time – and that’s never going to happen if I don’t buy a ticket. (note to self, buy lotto ticket)

So what have I been doing with my time since I’ve been back you may ask?  Checking out potential dates of course.  There’s an abundance of online dating sites and ample opportunity to spend all day, every day, chatting online to strange men.  And it’s with great mortification that I admit I may be addicted.

Addicted to finding love.  Again.  Which I guess is a good thing.  It means I’ve still got hope that I will one day find The One to share my life with.  So it is with high hopes but no expectations that I comb the online profiles for potential candidates.

Can any guy out there please tell me WHY you think a photo with your sunglasses on and not smiling is in any way supposed to attract a potential mate??  I don’t want to date someone who looks like a criminal, with or without sunglasses.  Just SMILE for heavens sake!  This is supposed to be fun. You’re supposed to be flirting.  Show me your best pearly-white grin and flash those eyes at me.  You can tell so much from a persons eyes.  Teeth?  Well, that’s a bit of a personal thing.  I like a decent set of knashers on a bloke.

There is a set of fellas though that will always do themselves a massive disservice by not having a profile picture at all.  Yes, it’s shallow judging each other by how we look, but it’s also a big part and parcel of who and why you fancy one person and not another.  It’s certainly not the be all and end all but it helps if you are physically attracted to someone.

Now I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.  And yes it is bitterly disappointing when you get turned down by someone you find attractive.  But it works both ways and in a pub or club they likely wouldn’t have held eye contact or come over to talk to you, so I can’t be disappointed if I don’t get a positive response from them online.

Likewise that bloke without the photo, or easy-to-see face shot with a smile, should NOT be offended if I am not interested in them.  These sans-photo gents often go hand-in-hand with a profile that is either not filled out at all, or offers minimal, or even untruthful information on the person.

Who do they think they are kidding??  Me?  Nah-ahh!  If they haven’t made an effort on their profile in order to attract a mate and I have, why should I take them seriously?  Am I supposed to be sucked-in by their mystique?   Am I supposed to be the one who carries the conversation by asking a thousand questions that could have been answered if they’d filled out their profile properly?  Is it a test to see if I’m going to judge them?  Well guess what, I AM JUDGING YOU.  We are judging each other.  That’s the whole point!  That’s why we’re here.  We are trying to find the perfect person to fill the (job) vacancy in our lives, partner for life.

Yes it’s a job interview.  Albeit with a few different selection criteria, but a position vacancy none-the-less.  Sure, there are going to be many different people that we could have a relationship with.  We could fit our lives together if we worked at it.  But for me, there needs to be some amount of natural ease with how I fit and feel with someone I intend to share my life with.  That’s not to say it would always be peaceful with no arguments or disagreements, no bad moods or times when one or the other of us would be walking on eggshells for a moment or two.  No relationship is perfect. But on the whole, the partnership should feel comfortable.

This is how I felt about my last relationship (obviously he didn’t and that’s evident in my previous blogs) and how I’d like to feel again.  I live in hope.  I scan the profiles with eager eyes.  Will I find ‘the one’ today?  Will I take one look into those eyes and feel the spark that everyone talks about?  Will he like me back?

It’s really all just a game.  One with which you have to take a pinch of salt – or an entire bucket if past experience serves.  You need a tough skin and a fabulous sense of humour.  Some days I know I can’t handle it.  I shouldn’t message people back if I’m going to be rude – which really is just telling it how it is, some people lack common sense and/or don’t think before they speak/write.  It’s a dance.  And some days I have two left feet.

It’s been a few days since I last looked for my love online.  The anticipation is building.  I wonder how long I will hold off?  Addiction can be a fickle thing.  Some days I can’t hold it back, yet on others, I have it beat!  As a woman I see these ebbs and flows coincide with my hormone fluctuations.  When I have my cranky-hormonal-pants on, woe betide any bloke who attempts to hit-me-up with a ‘hey sexy’ or ‘hi’ and nothing to follow, or no photo, or who has evidently not read my profile.  But catch me on a good day and there’s every chance I’ll be doing my darnedest to make that connection we all hope for.

What sort of day am I having today?  Well, let’s just say if you can string a sentence together using some basic grammar and have a smiley photo with a twinkle in your eye, hit me up!  Let’s make a date for an ‘interview’.