Old habits

Old habits. They're hard to break, no? Especially when they're the ones that are deeply ingrained to the point where they're a part of you; a part of your belief system, your psyche, the way you do life.

My ingrained habit/attitude is to just keep on going no matter what. I have high expectations of myself when it comes to staying committed to something, being there when I'm supposed to be, carrying on in spite of how I feel to the point where I become totally exhausted and feel overwhelmed with what seems like a mountain of responsibility, chores to get to, commitments to honour, appointments to keep. Scheduled "fun" things no longer seem "fun" things. They're just another appointment on the calendar and another thing to cross of the To Do List.

Which sounds really awful when I think about it....

I know where this comes from. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. I remember as a child going to school even though I had raging ear infections - that constant ear-ache that was covered up with drops and cotton wool stuffing. I remember going to school in spite of legs that were aching so much I wanted to sit down and cry. I remember being there with headaches so bad it felt like a constant jack hammer in my head, with a head and chest so stuffed up with a cold I could barely breathe, with period cramps so bad they really deserved a hot water bottle and curling up on the couch with a cup of tea and a good dose of midday television.

Your body wasn't an excuse. If you could manage to get there and see it through then you were going.

That attitude has continued throughout my adult life too. I'm hard on myself. Pop a Panadol and keep on going. Get up, exercise, go to work, come home and get straight into making dinner, doing laundry, feeding animals. Go to Auslan class, the chiropractor. Take this one to that appointment. Meet with that teacher. Fill out those forms. Book that catch up. Attend that fundraiser. Go to work. 

On and on it goes...and the fun ceases to be fun. You know it's not fun anymore when you book a date to go and see a movie you really want to see and you fall asleep fifteen minutes into it - despite the volume of the car smashes and the bullets and the explosions.

And one day you drag yourself into work thinking, "just two more days till the weekend!" and everyone who greets you that day tells you how washed out and tired you look. Your chiropractor despairs at the way your spine is twisted with the tension and she tells you that you just have to take time out just for you; to listen to your body...which is something you started to do but somehow the noise of the every day and the urgent seemed to crowd out that little voice.

So...the next day, faced with another busy weekend ahead, you decide to do just that. You listen...and that little body, which woke 90 minutes after your usual time...says, "Not today." You text your manager and let her know you're not coming in...feeling terribly, horribly guilty as you do so. 

And the thought of spending 24 hours at home fills you with peace. You take things slowly. Thoughts of getting out your sewing machine fills your head and you're actually excited by the prospect. Even the thought of getting the bathroom sparkling clean again is exciting. 

Time to once again shut out the noise and concentrate on what really matters. Time to start creating some new, healthy habits. Time to start putting myself first for a change.

Pathways

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I've decided I'm going to head into Federation Square on Sunday and check out the Multicultural Festival which is also celebrating Buddah's Day.

Once upon a time, back in the day of fear and deep, dark judgement, there would have been no way on God's green earth you would have seen me within cooee of anything that suggested anything to do with Buddah.

My how times have changed - and may I say, for the better. I feel free.

Over the past 15 years or so there has been a gradual stripping away of all things I used to hold to, believe in. These things made my world"safe". They were ideas about what was "right" and what was "wrong, rules about how my world was supposed to function, beliefs about foundations I thought were true and safe. 

But they weren't. My world began to rock. My foundations started to crumble. Things and people and ideas and institutions I'd had faith in began to be stripped away, leaving me feeling so very, very vulnerable, confused, unsafe and even angry.

I'd internally rant and rave. I'd howl at God or the universe, "But it's not supposed to be this way! You said if I did it *this* way all would be well! I believed I the sanctity of "this", the importance of "that"! I had faith in what I was told I was supposed to have faith in, and now they're all letting me down! Some are even turning on me! Life is not supposed to be this way!!!"

But the stripping continued; and the hurt got bigger and I felt I was left with nothing in the end.

And therein lay the secret.

When you've been emptied out then you're ready to be filled.

The slow erosion of all my securities to the point of there being nothing left gave me time to really look at and examine what was left. And what was left was me.

In this new and "unsafe" world I learned how to walk for myself. I learned how to trust myself. I'd examine things like faith and spirituality, turning them over and over in my hands and pondering as to why I thought and believed the way I did. Was it all REALLY what I believed or was I just following what I'd been told was right and I was too afraid to question it?

I discovered that my faith was actually based on fear - fear that if I didn't adhere to its dogma, it's rules, it's formula, then my soul would be forfeit and I'd be doomed to hell. Because that way was the only way and the only truth.

But I thought perfect love wasn't about fear? That's what I'd been told. That's what I read. That's what I believed. And that's what I still believe.

So...I stopped. I stopped doing what the rules said I was supposed to do. And the stripping continued...but somehow I've been okay with that. I'm no longer afraid of it. In fact, I welcome it. It's all part of my journey towards freedom and, dare I say it, embracing that which is Perfect Love.

I've never felt so free. I've never felt so in touch with the presence of the One that surrounds me with His love every single second of every single day. This doesn't need a formula. This doesn't need four praise songs followed by two worship songs, followed by prayer & prophesy, followed by "anointed announcements", tithes and offerings, the message and then a prayer line. This doesn't need Home Group and doing "this" Foundation  Beliefs course and Boundaries course and Self Esteem workshops and Ladies Felliowship and being busy busy busy all the livelong day to fulfill the requirements of what a "good" person looks like.

This is quiet and calm and gentle. This means stopping and listening to the heartbeat of the connections that make up the whole universe. This means taking the time to just be with my loved ones, give $1 to that man in the street who asked for it. This means listening to my body and loving it for the temple it is; tapping into the uniqueness that is me and sharing it with the world. This means acceptance and love towards anyone I encounter - not seeking to make them conform to what I think is right, but letting them be just as they are and learning something from them; gleaning a nugget of truth from their truth.

This means embracing new ways of thinking and doing things; finding God's presence in different ways. Doing different things and feeling assured that I am loved so perfectly and that His grace covers all things. Seeking to get to know Him and please His heart, knowing and accepting that He rewards those who diligently seek Him but that seeking Him takes on an infinite number of forms, not just one.

Because I believe that now. I really, really do.

There are still a few things that remain and that I am turning over and over in my hand, examining them in my hand. There is still a reluctance to let them go as they are the absolute cornerstone of faith as I knew it. This is the ONE THING that was the key to everything. Yet, I am examining it. It scares me, the thought of dropping that particular rock in the sand. 

And yet, I feel that too, must be challenged, because I want to have faith in it because I am assured of its truth and place in my life - not out of fear that if I let it go I will be doomed for sure.

So, I continue this journey along my own path that's set before me. It's a new path. One I am keen to explore. I daily open my heart and my mind to new experiences and people and places. Buddah's Day will be one of them. I go, not because I want to cleave to a new belief system, but because I want to dip into a pool that is new to me. I want to experience a new culture and perhaps see God's hand working there too.

Reality bites

I've had one of those days. You know, the kind of day where you wake up and all is fresh and new and you feel good about the world. You open up your inbox and you find inspiration from a site you've subscribed to. You repost the article about finding happiness within on your Facebook because its just so relevant to the journey you've taken and where you're at, and you just want to share that hope with others...

And then you step out your front door and a good dose of your reality hits you fair and square in the face.

I've gotta say that I really don't appreciate being referred to as a "Walking Head Job" by random young adult males as I go about my daily business. It's not a compliment, it doesn't make me feel desirable or sexy. In fact, it's a form of sexual harassment. Isn't that a crime or something? Honestly, the fact that I'm at the height of an adult males crotch is not something I actively think about, not even when I'm standing on a very crowded train. But males being males do think about it apparently...possibly because their thinking is dictated by that little...thing...down there...or so I've read.

How would you feel, ladies, if you were talked about like that? Gentlemen? How would you feel if other men made snide sexual remarks about your wife, girlfriend, sister or daughter. What if other men looked at you and didn't see you as a beautiful, attractive, desirable woman but as a sexual freak?

Not nice to think about, is it?

I think that young males like the one I encountered today don't expect that I'm going to take them on. I think they believe that they're going to get away with their remark and that they will get a good laugh from the mates or girl that they're with. And yes, today he was with his girlfriend...and she laughed too. What's with women not standing up for other women?? Aren't I part of the sisterhood too, or don't I belong there either?

But this brave young man wasn't such a big shot when this little "Walking Head Job" bit back, was he?

Not more than five minutes after he said it I tracked him down and confronted him. 

If ever you refer to me or my daughters as "walking head jobs" again, so help me I'll find where you live and come in and chop it off so that YOU won't be fathering anything!

Not my greatest work, but enough to show him that yes, I heard him and no, I wasn't putting up with that crap.

They really don't know what to do when they're confronted by their victim.

But see, I refuse to be anyone's victim.

So, my post on Facebook today about love and forgiveness and acting in loving ways towards my fellow man may have been a little premature this morning, but I'm not perfect and I'm still a work in progress.

And some people need a bit of a slappin' down once in a while.

Listening

When my Nanna died a few years ago I did everything I could to hold back the silence that was left after her passing. I'd never experienced that silence before and I was afraid if it. When I was alone with nothing but my thoughts I had to fill the silence with something, so my iPod was always on with my earphones in and I listened to music Nanna would never have listened to. I filled the silence not just with music, but noisy music - thunderous, monstrous drumming, driving guitar rifts, loud, loud singing. There was lots of Kiss, mixed with a sprinkling of Anberlin, a dash of U2 and some Guns & Roses. Anything quieter than that and the silence started to creep in and I began to feel afraid.

I don't know why. I had kind of been expecting that Nan would be leaving...but when it happened nothing prepared me for the shock...and I realised I wasn't really ready. I was always thinking there'd be one more day, one more visit, one more thing I could tell her. I remember one particular time going to see her simply because I felt my life was a mess and I needed the stability of seeing someone who'd been a constant all my life. I stayed 5 minutes because she had deteriorated so much that she was a mere shadow of the formidable force she'd been throughout her life. I could no longer hide in her arms. I had to be an adult and face it on my own because she was no longer there to encourage with scripture and the reassurance of a God who loved me regardless. It was now up to me to journey that path on my own...and I didn't know how.

She had gone a long time before she actually left, but her leaving brought about the silence I filled with noise.

Slowly, over the last four years I have turned down the noise until I have reached the point where I am unafraid of the silence. There is much to listen to in the silence. I have heard the beat of my own heart, assuring me that my path is before me. It's my own path, not my Nanna's path. It's a different path, and yet somehow I feel she would be okay about me travelling this one. She became a little less...dogmatic...in her later years.

I listen to my own body and instinctually seem to know what it needs.I have to admit to being too busy over the last six weeks and I haven't been listening as closely as I should have. The "must dos" and the "have to's" have taken precedence over taking care of myself in the way I know I should. I am tired and find I don't have passions for those things that mean the most to me. I need to start making time for me - to rest, to relax, to listen closely and reconnect with Spirit. I need to turn off the noise of the iPod, the television and the Internet and listen, really listen...and be unafraid of the silence once again.

For there's nothing to be afraid of with silence. There's so much to listen to and learn from within the silence.

I look forward to making space for it in my life once again.

Life Goes On

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When I first started this blog I wanted it to be a chronicle of what it was like living as a person with dwarfism. I wanted to get my voice out there so that the general public would be educated and that if a parent with a newborn diagnosed with a dwarfing condition stumbled across this little place in cyberspace they would read about someone who was living a normal life, that this diagnosis is not a terrible thing and their beloved baby had every hope of having a great life.

But I've found I don't really talk about my dwarfism much. I just talk about daily life, my journey towards mental and physical wellness, the thoughts I think, the observations I make, my hopes and wishes and dreams.

It was then that I realised that this IS life with dwarfism. It's just life...and hopefully it's showing everyone who comes here that life for me, for us, is not different, or strange, or terrible, or magical. We don't live in little houses and sleep in little beds (believe me, I had a person in my life who actually thought that!). We're not relegated to jobs that entail making people laugh by making fools of ourselves (although I know of people with dwarfism who make a living of doing just that....but then again, I know average statured people who do the same thing too!). My life is actually pretty ordinary every day, but I choose to see the magical in the ordinary - the precious moments that make life worth living for everyone that transcends whatever human condition we may have been blessed with.

So, I'm handing this over to you, the reader. What do YOU want to know about? Are there questions you have for me? And my personal philosophy is that there is NO SUCH THING AS A SILLY QUESTION, so ask away!