Did you ever do that when you played hidey as a kid?
Your turn to count to 100?
OK.
1, 2, skip a few… 99, 100. Coming ready or not.
That’s what life has felt like recently. Big change. Coming, ready or not. Continue reading
Did you ever do that when you played hidey as a kid?
Your turn to count to 100?
OK.
1, 2, skip a few… 99, 100. Coming ready or not.
That’s what life has felt like recently. Big change. Coming, ready or not. Continue reading
What on earth does that mean? Fun according to who?
Can you see where this is going?
The sound of ‘should’ tends to bring my shoulders up to my ears. I figure I’m getting a little long in the tooth to be told what I should and shouldn’t do. So when someone (especially me) tells me I ‘should’ do something, it’s a flag to stop, reflect and reconsider. Who says I should do it? Why? Continue reading
Valerie Khoo and Alison Tait (from the podcast “So you want to be a Writer”) issued a word of the week challenge the other day. Use “gongoozler” in a blog post somewhere.
So how does gongoozler fit into a blog on living a conscious, joyful life? Tips on life, loss and my literary dreams. It fits very easily. Gongoozler means an idle spectator. And if you know me, or have read any of my blogs, you know that I consciously gave up being a gongoozler a few years ago. I decided enough is enough, time to learn to feel and heal, no more letting someone else drive, or working myself to death for someone else’s dream. I made a choice to change, to be a fully committed participant in my own life, and to follow my own dreams of writing. Continue reading
When I read the campaign theme for this year’s International Women’s Day I thought, brilliant! Be bold for change – be bold for change and take action – take action for gender parity – forge a better working world – a more gender inclusive world.
Why do we still need this, haven’t we achieved gender equality? That’s a big no! At the rate we are going, the gender equity gap won’t close entirely until 2186 – another 169 years.
Progress is still too slow for realising the full potential of one half of humanity within our lifetimes.
So, I’m a published author, I made that dream a reality. What else is possible?
If I can write and publish a book after dreaming about it for decades, then I believe anyone can. If I can survive sharing with the world the deepest hurt of my life and how I found my way home—what else is possible?
That’s what I kept asking myself just before I fell into a big emotional puddle the other day. Up to my neck drowning; again. Tears close to the surface, fear and anxiety rising, the joy disappearing under a tidal wave of overwhelm.