A love letter

Dear Running,

I am so glad you and I found each other.

I needed you so much today. We didn't have such a great time on those hot afternoons, did we? I think you and I are meant to be together in the coolness of the morning when the air is cold and clear; not the afternoon of a sultry day where the air feels heavy in my lungs. This morning was perfect.

The road expects nothing of me. It is there before me and never ends. Even when there is no path to follow the way is before me. The road just accepts my pounding feet, not asking how I am, how far I intend to go, how long I will take - for sometimes I don't know. I just run and the road accepts that.

You are best when there is so much going on in my heart and head. I know I have to be out there on the road to give my body an outlet for all the feelings that have no words....or too many words that I simply can't express. I run and everything that I can't understand or emotions that feel too big kind of become more manageable. They don't change or go away at all, but the rhythm of my pounding feet becomes a mantra, "You'll be alright. You are ok. Everything will work out," over and over again until my heart stops pounding and all anxious thoughts melt away.

Pain becomes my friend. You've helped me see pain in a different light, for the pain of you is not the pain of something being terribly wrong. It is the pain of things changing, of muscles strengthening, of form improving. I took particular note of my quads this morning. I could feel them burning the further I went, but the further I went the harder I would push and my quads responded. I was fascinated.

Running, you have made me a student of my own body. I have learned so much. I have learned persistence. I have learned about dedication and commitment.  I have learned that I'm stronger than I think. I have learned that even when I think there's nothing more left in me to give I just need to dig deeper and find that which is in reserve. There's always a little more.

I've learned that I can't expect myself to be everything to everyone. It's okay to have something just for myself that I don't have to justify or explain. I've never had that before. All my life I've lived with what I've been taught - not to be selfish, to share, to think of others, to leave myself until last. You have taught me that I am important too; that I need to take this time to just be alone and to guard this time we have together almost jealously. 

Thank you for everything, but especially bringing me back from the brink. I tell people that I started running because I was in a really dark place. You helped me run out of that dark place. Sometimes it still gets a little dark, but I know that sunshine waits for me just down the road and around the corner. 

Till next time!

Me xox

Two steps away

Despite the fact that March is filled with birthdays for our family and should be a month of fun, I found March to be a struggle this year.

To be honest, I have struggled with my own mental health. I have been anxious, overwhelmed and in a deeper hole than I care to admit, even needing time out just to get my head together.

I guess there are many reasons that contributed to this. Since December it has been one change after another and I don't do change well. I like predictability and familiarity. Yes I like adventure, but I like adventure that I've planned for. Above all, I love home best. I guess, since December, I've struggled to know where that is. Everything seems unfamiliar and I don't quite know where my place is in the world.

Over the past few weeks as I have been out and about I've encountered people in the streets, on the tram and on the train who seem...broken. I find myself wondering what their stories are. Who were they before I encountered them? What started their slow erosion and what were the events that continued that erosion of mind and body? I see them talking to people who seem very real to them but I am not able to see and I hear them talking in ways that, to me, make no sense whatsoever.

I find my heart move with compassion towards these broken lives because sometimes I feel as though I am only two steps away from where they are.  What tips the balance between sanity and madness? Sometimes I feel as though it will only take one more thing before I tumble those two steps down into being someone completely different to the person I started out being.

Hump Day Links

Hi lovelies,

I know it's been a while. Again.

Truth is I'm reviewing some things - this space being one of them. This morning I was musing upon the idea of taking this whole blogging thing in a new direction. I already have another blog space set up on here with absolutely nothing written in it so I'm musing about closing down Life at My Level and concentrating on that space.

It's a thought in progress anyway. I guess the thing would be just to start and see how it all goes. I'm not much of a planner. More of a spur of the moment girl....as some of my recent behaviours will testify. Who knows, maybe I might ditch the idea and stay with what's familiar? That sounds totally like me too!

Anyway, a number of my much loved blog hangouts do a weekly links page where they link to places on the interwebs that they've found interesting, inspiring, funny. There may even be a recipe or two, some crafty bits and home hints.

I might do the same.

So, without further ado, here's some links to get you thorough what may be a hump of a Hump Day.

• Ever feel as though everyone's lives are way more wonderful/happy/carefree/interesting than yours based upon what pops up in your Facebook newsfeed? The lovely Maddi from Fielekefrontporch talks about how all things may not be as they appear in I'm not a liar but Facebook sure is. 
• My daughter made this totally delicious cake for her sisters birthday recently. If you like Chocolate and Hazelnuts and decadence without the flour, this cake is definitely for YOU!
• Women celebrating who they are and grasping their own sexual empowerment is really important to me. This video sums it up in a nutshell. 
• Here's something to do with what it is actually like to live life at my level. Leah Smith talks about the issue of having your photo taken and used without consent. 

See you all again soon, ok? 

Birthday Get In The Picture

It was my birthday yesterday. Happy Birthday to me! I've always liked the sound of the date of my birthday. March 9. I don't know why it sounds so appealing to me. You know when you have those words and phrases that sound so delicious when you say them? Like......delicious.......and juicy.......and love.......Well, that's what March 9 feels like for me....

Anyway, I had a deliciously lovely day. Here in Victoria it was a Public Holiday so we all had a day off to enjoy it! Hooray! The only thing that marred it was that our daughter Georgia had classes scheduled at Uni and wasn't able to join us for a picnic in the local Botanic Gardens, but she and I were able to get Mama and daughter time when we went out for afternoon tea on Saturday.

It was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too cold. We found a lovely place to sit under a tree in the gardens to have our picnic and even got to see a few wallabies who seemed quite fascinated by a game of cricket that several other park visitors had started. Curious creatures those wallabies!

You know, I really should get a selfie stick. Selfie sticks are vital for a person with dwarfism. We tried to get a good picture of all of us (sans Georgia) but this is what we managed. Pretty good when you consider my arms are only 40cm long!

March 9, 2015

The lovely Bron from Maxabella Loves is encouraging we Mammas to get #inthepicture. I have to confess that I too, am often the one behind the camera (aren't all Mamma's the photographers?) rather than in photos with the family. I know there are hardly any photos at all of my mother with me and my siblings and I do wish there were more - especially from when we were really little. She was a bit of a stunner, my mother.

So, on the occasion of my I'm-not-50-yet Birthday (won't be next year either, ha!) I made sure we got at least something to remember it - even though we missed Georgia terribly - and for the kids to have one more photo to have in their collection where they will be able to say, "And that's Mum."

Balm for the soul

When thoughts are colliding in my head and there seems to be no reprieve, I head for the place my heart and soul feels peace and rest. I head for the water, the salty air and the whipping wind. On Saturday, I drove down to Warneet with my faithful dog and neglected camera.

I wished the jetty went all the way to the other side. I wanted to explore over there. 

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 My best girl Maya. I don't know what I would do without my faithful companion who loves me in the best way a dog possibly can. She loves getting out and about almost as much as I do.

I found myself drawn to the different angles and lines of this scene and wanted to capture it as best I could.

The wind and the sea air worked their magic. I found myself slowly coming back into my skin again after threatening to shatter and splinter and spin off in all directions. It's been a good thing to learn, this listening to my body and soul and discovering how to self-soothe. Once upon a time I would have desperately sought to find someone to anchor me down and reassure me that everything is okay. No longer. I know what I need. I know I am ok, just as I am...and even when things feel like they're spinning out of control they're actually not. I just need to go to a place where I can breathe and come back to myself again.

Leaving home, starting life.

Source

It's been a long time since my youngest one started school - 2002 in fact. I only have vague memories of her starting. We sent our kids to a very non-traditional school at the time, which was very small, filled with people our kids had known most of their lives, and very, very....disorganized and dysfunctional. Why? Don't ask me. I'm still at a loss as to why, but we learned lessons regardless so for that I'm grateful. Let's just say we were in a very different place to where we are now and would make different choices if we could do it over.

For our youngest daughter's secondary schooling we simply sent her to the local Secondary College. This ended up being the best decision . She received a lot of support from staff, made many friends and got really involved in the Theatre Studies and Drama groups. Despite all this though, she left school in the middle of last year, feeling as though it wasn't for her as she wanted to explore other educational options. She did a couple of short courses in subjects she was interested in, giving her a taste of what she might like to explore in the future. As a result of this, the year took on a whole different feel. School holidays came and went without us noticing and VCE (Victorian Certificate of Education) exams that my daughter would have sat if she had've remained at school were something other families were worried about. I have to admit to it all feeling very strange when the year was drawing to a close. I didn't have to fill out orders from book lists, think about uniforms and fill out enrollment paperwork and gather medical reports for "special needs" funding. When the new year clicked over this year it occurred to me that this was the first time in over twenty years that I didn't have to think about purchasing new school shoes, checking uniforms and wondering if the lunch boxes and drink bottles needed replacing.

It was kind of strange really. When you're a brand new Mum one of the things seasoned parents tell you is, "Really cherish each moment because it just goes by so quickly!" Of course when you're smack bang in the middle of you umpteenth sleepless night with your colicky, screaming offspring you just can't wait for it to be over, but before you know it, it is over and you're looking into the face of your baby who is now an adult.

And you wonder, as Talking Heads sings, "My God! How did I get here?" (Once In A Lifetime)

Regardless of the fact that she didn't complete her VCE, our daughter applied for courses at various universities around Melbourne, hoping to be able to study Creative Arts. She did this all herself, following her heart and her instincts. It was with great excitement earlier this year that she received an offer for the course that was her first preference - Bachelor of Creative Arts at a University in the northern suburbs (just goes to show that you can have a future without your VCE, folks!). Since then she has been a flurry of activity - selecting her subjects, organising her timetable and finding a place to live on campus. She did this all herself. It was this that made me realise that my time as Mama was over.

It's their turn. It's her turn.

That being said, last weekend was rough. We got her packed up and moved her over into her college residence. Walking into the room where she was going to live was a surreal experience. We checked out the shared kitchen space, laundry and bathroom spaces knowing that we had to let her go and work out how best to function in this unfamiliar environment. She was excited and nervous, happy and sad all at once. I understood all that conflict because my Mama heart was so divided - explosive pride, happy that she was doing what she wanted to do, excited for her, yet so very sad that she was leaving, melancholy that my baby really wasn't a baby anymore and worried that she wouldn't enjoy it. It was hard leaving her there, but I knew she was going to be ok. She's ready. I know she is.

As her Dad and I drove home that night I had two songs in my heart and in my head.

Slipping My Fingers by ABBA which I played after dropping her off at her first day of school all those years ago and Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift.

New Mamas....believe people when they encourage you to cherish every little moment....because it's true.....they grow up so quickly.

You belong here

Weave in rehearsal
Photo credit: Margherita Coppolino

I was going to save this post until tonight but I have too many thoughts swirling about in my head to wait any longer. I'm blogging on the train. Did you know I did that sometimes? I'm not one of these "plan everything you're going to say" bloggers. A feeling grabs me, I get the urge to write, so I do. Unfortunately I have several blog posts in draft form - this being one of them.

I digress...as usual.

I'm on the train heading into the city for White Night. Weave Movement Theatre is performing a piece on the Ausdance stage tonight. I'm a part of Weave so, you guessed it, I'll be performing too.

I'm ridiculously excited

This is my first public performance. Like, public public. I've done other performances in the past on stages where audiences have comprised of the performer's family, friends and interested others but nothing like this.

I don't quite know what to expect, but it hasn't diminished my excitement. Not one bit.

I've spent a great part of my life hiding, I guess. Diminishing myself. Making myself as unobtrusive as possible. This body attracts enough attention as it is, don't attract any more! Of course it's all very well and good to get up on stage and deliver some inspirational words, showing how clever you are but to perform...?

Historically I guess that's been fraught with a whole heap of minefields...that, in some form, still exist today. Once upon a time the only job though suitable for people like me was on the stage performing simply because we were physically different. Then came the 70's and the big push to get us off the stage and "into real jobs"...to the point where anyone still on the stage was frowned upon.

I guess the Arts hasn't been kind to performers with different physical appearances either. To my mind the Arts has usually celebrated bodies that model perfection, perfect technique, pitch, delivery and poise. Assumptions are made of the body that is physically different. It is not capable of that which is worthy to be seen on stage and given critical acclaim and so it is relegated to specific workshops designed to give the person with a disability/difference " something to do". Audiences are more like cheer squads; cheering on the performers for simply having a go, rather than looking at the work critically and considering it worthy of serious reviews and potential development.

Weave Movement Theatre is turning that kind of thinking on it's head. We are artists. We are dancers.

I am a dancer.

So here I am, on the train, about to put this different little body on the stage and invite hundreds of people to look because what I and my fellow ensemble have created together is truly beautiful, artistic, creative. Look at what we can do! See the beauty we are portraying right here on this stage? This is what beauty means to us! Watch beauty as we see it translated in our movements! Do you see it? Do you hear it? We do!

Caroline Bowditch, an Australian born performance artist and choreographer has choreographed our piece. She has encouraged us to own it. "Know you belong up there on that stage!" she has encouraged. "Own it! Own the stage!" Each time she has said it it's been like an affirmation to me. I hope to get up there tonight and be truly present, owning that space, looking out at the audience and inviting them to see what we see. I am so excited I can barely contain it.

My hope is that we encourage the audience to think about dance in a different way; seeing the potential for everyone to express themselves through dance, regardless of physicality.

I can't wait to get up there!