Ten minutes of Life At My Level

Picture this:

It's the end of the day and I'm walking down the street in South Melbourne.

I catch my reflection in a nearby window.

For once I am happy with what I see. My hair is still sitting nicely after the quick blow wave I gave it this morning, I've made an effort and put on some makeup - not much mind you. At my age I have discovered that less is more so my make up comprises of BB Cream (oh for the love of blog, someone ask me to do a sponsored post for BB cream and I'll sing its praises from the rooftops!), a little powder and some mascara.

I feel good.

Then...I pass a little boy.

"LOOK AT THAT REALLY OLD GRANDMA!!!"

Thanks kid. Thanks a lot.

Ego successfully deflated.

I do laugh though, and another woman walking close by hears me, joins in and says, "Out of the mouths of babes..."
"Yes," I answer. "They just say out loud what adults are thinking."

I walk on.

Twenty metres along and I'm accosted by an elderly lady in a mobility scooter. She says hello and ask me to stop for a moment. I oblige.....

....until I see her start to pull out some religious pamphlets - warnings and inspirations from The Watchtower. 

For some reason when you're living with an obvious physical difference or disability, people from such organisations seem to think you need saving....or relief from your suffering. 

I politely decline. I won't say what I'm really thinking.

"Honey, I've been a bonafide, card-carrying member of the Pentecostal church since I first drew breath and there ain't nothing you can give me that I haven't already seen!"

I go another hundred metres or so and stop at some lights. An elderly gentleman spies me and exclaims, "Hey! I saw you in a relay race in Melbourne about ten years ago!"

(see, that's the thing. If you've seen one short statured person then every other one you see is THAT same one!)

"Oh that wasn't me." I explain. "I went in the Run For The Kids in the city last year and the year before so maybe you saw me then."

"Probably...." he said. "You were great. If they don't give you an Order of Australia then I'll blow up Canberra!"

Goodness! That's a little extreme!

I stop outside the Exhibition Centre so I can mail some letters and documents. The mail box is too high so I have to place the letters on the lip of the slot one by one and bang them in with the remaining envelopes. The last envelope will not fall down into the slot. I jump and try to hit it in to no avail!

Luckily a kind, random stranger walking by sees my predicament and comes over to assist. We laugh together, I thank her for her help and continue on.

As I reach my destination I am astounded that all that happened in the short space of ten minutes and decide that everything was a wonderful thing to blog about to show you a small snippet of what it is to live life at my level!

Of April showers and all things art.

We had an absolute downpour yesterday - the first real soaking for Autumn 2015. Most of the time I was safely inside, watching it somply bucket down from my desk although I did head out when there was a break to do the banking and a postage run. The break didn't last long and I found myself sheltering under the eaves of the local shops waiting for another break.

Someone's gutters need cleaning.

On the way back to the office I finally noticed that autumn was indeed in progress. Funny how I haven't noticed since today. I love autumn leaves. I saw a lovely selection of autumn leaves dried out, pasted on a board and framed over the weekend. It inspired me to collect some and make a frame of my own.

Since writing that last post I have been concentrating on engaging in activities that nurture my soul and bring a sense of calm and peace. It has been beyond helpful.

Zentangle by me!

I'd been thinking about creating a zentangle for the longest time. I don't know what took me so long to just get out the fineliners and do it. I'd been looking for online zentangle patterns to print out and then happened upon basic instructions for creating your own using geometric shapes, so I just got out a glass, traced around it and off I went. Zentangles are a wonderful way to practice mindfulness. I found creating this one to be so soothing as I concentrated on different patterns and designs. I was so pleased with the end result - so much so that I put my design into a white frame to display it. I'd like to try different and more complex shapes now.

I also had a bit of a play with watercolours and fineliners last night - not with the greatest of results, but it was fun all the same.

I've also finally resurrected my trusty Nikon and started experimenting with photography again. This was inspired by a photoshoot a friend and I did together last week where we played with light and shadow.

Photo credit: M Coppolino

The fact that my hair was a shambles and I had no makeup on didn't really matter in this instance!

Photo credit: M Coppolino

We also played with reflections. 

Photo credit: M Coppolino
Taken from the reflection in the mirrors in the room.
(also photobombed by Missy the dog!)

Since these I've been trying to take my camera out on walks to capture things that catch my eye and remind me of how beautiful life really is. This has been really important to me lately. Through our screens we are being bombarded by so many negative images, so much hate and violence that it's easy to think that those images are what makes up the world. I've been mindful to turn off the news, not go to news websites or read the paper lately as I find it all too upsetting. My sister does the same thing, saying that those things are "none of her business anyway." I tend to agree. 

I have to admit to applauding though when I did hear a news report talking about International Pillow Fight Day. Now there's a war I would support!

So, that's what I've been up to. I guess you could say I'm taking an active role in my own mental wellness. Over the past few years I have learned the value of self-nurture and self-soothing and I'm certainly finding it helpful right now. 

Road Trippin' Home

Dad, Mum & Maya - McLoghlin's Beach. Jan 2, 2015

I do enjoy a little spontaneity now and again. Yesterday, on a whim, I decided to toss a few things into the car and head off down the South Gippsland Highway to visit my parents.  For some reason I was really feeling the pull of home. Despite the fact that we left the area in 1974 I still have this sense that the place of my birth is still "home" and it has nothing to do with the fact that my parents have moved back there. Now and again I feel an innate sense that I need to go back there to feel the soil, sand and the sea air. I hop in the car and just go. This was the first time I went on my own.

I wonder why I feel that tug now and again? Does everyone feel it? Is there a place that each of us longs for? You know, I don't even mind that most of the people I knew from my childhood are no longer down there and have moved on. I just love the area, the smells, the feel. I can drive those roads and they're so familiar, so comforting. I drive through the streets of the town of my birth and I marvel that even though things are more modern, everything still feels the same. Nothing has changed beyond recognition and it is all so familiar and so comforting that I feel as though I have been enveloped in a warm blanket each time I go there. It's as though I know exactly who I am, where I've come from and, strangely enough, where I am going. I come back to my current home and it's as though my tanks have been refilled. I'm refreshed and calm and have a sense of my place in the world again.

Yesterday was a best day and I've needed a best day for a while. I'm kind of struggling with this new "Mum but no longer Mum"status and have felt a little disenfranchised - still having the title "Mum"but no longer having the responsibility that comes with that word. I know that this is simply a natural progression of life and my mothering journey, but instead of all my chickens flying the nest slowly over time it was this Mama Bird that flew away, starting a new life. It happened suddenly and although I (and they) know it was a right decision, I am still wandering around kind of lost, not quite knowing what my role is. I know it will all work out with the progression of time and that soon this "new life"will just be life, but right now it's all very strange and confusing.

I think that is why I needed to go home. I needed to once again walk in the place where life began for me. I needed to connect to my roots so that I could feel grounded again.

Since getting back last night I've felt calm, safe, connected. I feel my strength renewing. I'm looking forward to the blank canvas that is 2015.

My Sliding Doors

Source

*Spoiler alert - If you've never watched Sliding Doors and don't want spoilers, go away and watch it and then come back. I can wait....*

I teased you all yesterday and said I was going to talk about my own Sliding Doors moments. You didn't think I would...didn't you? Ha! Well here I am.

I have to admit to being fascinated by the concept behind the movie Sliding Doors. I've often, throughout my life, found myself wondering "What would have happened if....?"  and in this movie you get a glimse of it. I was totally engrossed - kind of even forgetting I was watching two alternative realities and only one of them was actually real. (well, that's what I thought anyway) It was when one Helen died and the other didn't that I realised that the one that died was only a possibility rather than a reality and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

Anyway....I digress. I realised that there are Sliding Doors moments throughout our lives. I guess every day has alternate possibilities and pathways, don't they? There are even Sliding Doors moments throughout childhood really, although I suppose other people - our parents in particular - are responsible for those. I often find myself wondering what my life would have been like if we had've stayed down in Gippsland, or what would have happened if my Dad did actually join the RAAF rather than take the job that led us to move where I remain to this day? In fact, what would have happened if my Dad had've been deployed to Vietnam after I was born? Wow! So many moments I could sit and ponder. That last one I'd rather not ponder to be honest...

I've recently contributed to a book that's about to be published (it's at the printers as we speak! Eek!) called Letters to Myself. It's a compilation of letters that each author has written to either their younger self or future self. Naturally, anyone over the age of 20 has written to their younger self and the two younger authors have written to their future selves.  During the writing process I found myself looking back to when I was thirteen years old and realised what a pivotal time that was for me. I even wrote in my letter that I realised that it was a time that really shaped the rest of my life. 

The impact of that floored me to be honest.

It was at the age of thirteen that I was given a choice. My parents had heard about a camp for short statured teenagers that was being held not too far away. They really wanted me to go, but did leave the final decision to me. They thought it would be good for me to meet other teenagers who were also short statured and perhaps find some understanding and support. Most of me didn't want to go. I used to get dreadfully homesick and the thought of being away from home for a week with a bunch of people I didn't know was terrifying. At the same time there was a curiosity and a sense of possibility. Curiosity won out in the end and I decided I would attend, on the proviso that if I hated it and wanted to come home my Dad would come up and get me. 

I went. 

Had the time of my life. 

And met my future husband. 

The impact of that really hit me as I was writing for Letters to Myself. What would have happened if I decided not to go? Would he and I still have met? In the movie Sliding Doors it was interesting to note that the two different alternatives for Helen's life eventually had a similar outcome - that Helen finds out that Gerry is cheating on her and she meets James. Is life like that? Regardless of which choice we make does life eventually find a way and lead us to the place we are always supposed to be?

Pondering this kind of stuff does my head in sometimes. 

Would he and I still have met and still had the four amazing children we have now? Would life throw other opportunities in front of both of us so that our paths would eventually cross? I'd like to think so. 

I think deciding to go to the camp was my first, and possibly biggest, Sliding Doors moment. I'm so glad I picked Door A. 

There are other times where I wonder what would have happened if I had've picked the door on the left rather than the door on the right, kept on walking instead of waiting, waited for the appointment rather than consulting Dr Google.  All of those choices come with alternate endings that I have pondered and wondered about. 

Then I look about me and see the life that is RIGHT NOW. It is good. I am so grateful that I chose the doors I did, picked Box A rather than Box B, played on rather than taken the cash. Each decision I made has shaped me into the me of today....and you know what? Leisa Version 1- 2014 is a pretty OK chick. I don't know the other alternative me.....and in fact, I'm glad she doesn't exist.

Protego Totalum - AKA Living in my bubble

Protego Totalum : is an incantation of many protective enchantments used to defend a certain small or enclosed area. Taken from the latin Protego meaning "to protect" and Totalum,  meaning "as a whole".

Taken from HERE.

Image source

Living as a person with an obvious physical difference has meant that when I am out and about doing my regular everyday, mundane things, I am noticed. A lot. It comes as part of the package. Everyone does it. I even do it. A difference registers in the brain. For me, I register the difference and move on....but most human beings register a difference and linger on it longer than is often comfortable.

For a long while I noticed this noticing. A lot. I knew when people stared. I saw when people did the double take. I heard the comments, the giggling, the obvious mirth. It used to bother me. A lot. I longed to be invisible, camouflaged, to just fit in....but that wasn't going to happen. Ever.

It was my brother who provided me with the perfect strategy for handling being under constant scrutiny. He told me that as the CEO of a business, people were always trying to get his attention, to meet with him, to take up his time - especially when he arrived at work. He told me to avoid this he would pretend not to notice, to look busy and purposeful and to avoid eye contact. He told me that eye contact meant that you were looking to engage with someone and that he had noticed that I was constantly looking at people, expecting contact. 

Look busy, ignore it and eventually you won't see it. 

It was hard to start off with. I realised how much of my time out in public was taken up with looking for people who were noticing me! (that sounds like I was up myself!) I was expecting the stares, the comments, the jitters. It took me a long time to perfect the art of not noticing at all and forming almost a "protective bubble" around myself. 

I now know how to use Protego Totalum!

I hardly notice it anymore! It hasn't stopped. I know it happens. In fact, possibly since the advent of the smart phone I am probably photographed or filmed at least once every day, but because I don't look for it, as far as I am concerned it's not happening.

Ignorance, my friends, CAN sometimes be bliss!

Of course I notice the obvious times. There are times where people are just so obviously downright rude that I can't help but notice and, sometimes, confront them on it. They're the times where someone has breached the protective bubble - you know, "This is my dance space, this is your dance space!" - and they have entered into my own personal space. I'm big on personal space. When your face is level with an average sized person's bum, personal space is very important! 

But for the most part these days I walk about in my little space of Protego Totalum and I am oblivious. This has done wonders for my own sense of self and for my mental health. Constantly feeling like I was on show was really doing my head in. Like, really!

The only downside of this is that there are times where I notice nothing! I friend could be calling out to me from the other side of the road, waving madly at me and I won't notice a thing. (It might help if I didn't have my ear phones in listening to my favorite tunes!) I've had people say to me afterwards, "I saw you at the ***** today and I was waving madly but you ignored me!" We laugh about it, but they know it's just a part of the way I do life....they also think I'm nutty, but that's another story. 

I am not alone in this. At the convention last week I laughed as I noticed other short statured friends doing exactly the same thing. Maybe it's a coping mechanism we all have.

All I know is, Protego Totalum works for me.....and I'd like to give a nod to Hermione Granger for giving me the cool label for it!

Lately on Mondays

I'm toying with having days with a regular theme on this little place in cyberspace. I'll try this today and see how we go. It's mainly just to give you all a quick rundown on what's been happening down here on another level.

Making:

I've been into amigurmi crochet lately. I haven't completed anything yet, which is the way I roll with most craft projects! At the moment I have almost finished a small amigurumi monkey but there seems to be errors in the pattern and I am too much of a novice crocheter to know how to fix them!

I think I made the head inside-out.....and the arm is too short and  fat, despite following the pattern closely!

I've also finished a blanket knitted with yarn I had left over from other projects....plus a couple of balls I *may* have bought to add to it.

Cooking:

Ummm....nothing! I can't remember the last time I actually cooked or baked anything. I'm in the middle of a ten day stint of working and most foodstuffs are those of the convenient kind - fruit, crackers, coffee, tea, toast. I miss cooking to tell you the truth!

Drinking:

Coffee. Skinny lattes, no sugar.

Reading:

I love reading, I really do but with being on anti-depressants I seem to have lost the concentration to be able to sit and get involved in a good story. I have several books on the go at the moment, none of which I am even close to finishing. 

Wanting:

I just want to stop; to have some time to sit and be still and think and breathe and centre myself again. That, above all things would be my dream right now. 

Looking:

At a lot of different gardens and wondering what would suit my humble abode.

Playing:

A lot of Candy Crush and Pet Rescue. Kind of addicted to these two games!

Wasting:

See above.

I'm also wasting a lot of time overthinking something I really don't need to be thinking about at all anymore. Does anyone else do that? Waste their precious energy on something they don't need to?

Sewing:

Sock monkeys!

This was taken before I added tiny button nostrils.

I've always wanted to make one of these and now I have so mission complete! They're cheap, quick and easy.

Wishing:

......that I could just buy a van, convert it and take off into the wide, open yonder to explore this wonderful country of ours.....

Enjoying:

My relationship with my children.

Waiting:

For Saturday when we will be taking off to Tasmania!

Liking:

Myself. I've discovered how important that is......

Wondering:

....if now is the time.....

Loving:

....being creative.....

Hoping:

.....for new beginnings, new horizons.......

Marvelling:

.......at the miracle of new life. My sister and her husband are expecting their first baby at the end of January. I never lose that sense of how marvellous pregnancy, birth and babies are. A new life beginning is always a source of wonder and something to be in awe of.

Needing:

Closure and peace.

Smelling:

....someones heated up lunch.

Wearing:

A denim dress, fawn coloured cardigan and black slip ons.

Following:

....the beat of my own drum....

The road is home

Edenland

Tune in to Radio Carly

Sparkling Adventures

Noticing:

.....new life bursting in the garden.

Knowing:

.....that I am ok, just as I am.

Thinking:

....about what to pack for Tasmania!

Feeling:

......the post-production blues.

Solitude Standing

It's taken me a while to get to the point where I'm okay with doing things on my own. There's just something about cinemas and restaurants that just screams out party and togetherness and groups. Walking into a restaurant to dine on your own? It kind of feels a bit...conspicuous, doesn't it? 

I love it now. I'm beyond caring about what people think. I now just go in and am shown to a table, peruse a menu, select and savour some delicious food. I take my time. I think, I may read, I listen to what's happening around me. Sometimes there's a friendly waiter that may serve me and we chat for several minutes. All in all I enjoy it. I'm learning to simply be present in a moment.

I did end up enroling in the Self Esteem course that I mentioned in my previous post. I'm quite looking forward to it. I love that I am walking my own path; not doing anything out of ritual or obligation but rather exploring where the path leads me with fearlessness.

I'm learning to tap into the Source of love that is within that drives out all fear.