Body Talk 

As anyone who has ever dropped in here knows, I have always had huge problems with menstruation. This is what this post is about. It might not be for you so feel free to stop reading at this point. 

I started seeing a Body Talk practitioner in April or May. I didn’t know much about it but after my first session I was hooked. My practitioner, Mel, uses Body Talk as a base and has/is developing her own, very intuitive style, encompassing more than Body Talk. 

It is highly effective. 

Perspective. I have never known periods without huge blood flow, cramps and migraines. I managed to get the PMS under control in terms of emotions but Body Talk has eradicated the physical signs. It has also stemmed the bleeding. 

For the first time in thirty plus years, I have had consecutive ‘normal’ periods, as described by my sister who has never had my type of period. I still have migraines (we will work on those next if the magnesium fails). But heavy blood flow, excessive bloating, continual discomfort – gone. 

Mel is amazing as a healer. If I had known earlier, I would have used it earlier, and for my IVF cycles even though I trust I am exactly where I am meant to be. 

If you want her number, message me. 

Balance is a Choice

I did no school work – no preparation, no marking, no thinking – the entire two week school holidays. This is a first for me. I wasn’t away somewhere. I was at home. Unheard of. But I managed to get a lot done around the house, not everything but a lot. 

And, going back to school last week I felt sensational. Relaxed, happy, cheeky. 

With a new puppy, I’ve also left for work a half hour later and am getting home hours earlier. A week in, I still feel sensational. Add to this #100happydays and I’m at the point where I am so darn grateful for my life, I could be posting photos every other minute every day. 

Yesterday, Saturday, I had a facial and then grocery shopped and then came home and cleaned out my back yard. Made dinner for mum and caught up for a few hours. 

Today, marking and preparation and reports. But where I would usually resent this imposition into my life, today I don’t. I’m looking forward to it – almost. 

I’ve found balance. By choosing to make it a priority. I have realised that my job still gets done. I work smarter and I genuinely don’t care if I’m a little behind because IT WILL GET DONE. Maybe not to my usual perfection standard but well enough AND I get to enjoy my life. 


All you teachers out there, choose happiness, choose life, and don’t feel guilty. We aren’t paid nor respected enough for guilt. 


I said to my good friend Leanne, on Tuesday, that once Max (my dog) and Molly (my cat) pass, that will be it, no more pets for me. 

And then today I had a client come. I put Max outside because he is a ball of fluffy love and just wants to kiss everyone all of the time. He banged the doggy door against the glass relentlessly. When my client left I thought, “Max really needs a friend.”

Not expecting to find anything suitable, I searched online. And then I saw him. 

Meet Sammy. I pick him up with my friend Margo, on Sunday. 

I have rung Leanne to let her know that I’m a big fat liar. She laughed. 

Now I just need to worry about Max and Molly’s reactions. Yep. 

The Happiness Project 

Last week, when I stayed overnight in Sydney for training, I went to Dymocks Books Store and bought a couple of books. One of them, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, kept jumping at me from the different sections of the store so I followed my intuition and bought it. 

As a side note, I then spoke to a friend about it who said that she had been meaning to get a copy, and so she did. It was meant to be. 

I returned to my hotel after my purchases, ate dinner, and decided to have a bath to start reading this book. I don’t like baths. Baths are definitely not a thing I think I should ever do ( the whole sitting in your own filth thing). But, to start this book’s journey, I needed to have a bath, soaking and reading, and I loved the experience. 

The book though. Weird choice. I consider myself a reasonably happy and grateful person. I did not understand why a book about happiness had jumped out at me; I am happy. And in the introduction, Rubin says the same thing about her project. She is happy, why does she feel the compulsion to engage in this project. And I was hooked. 

And I still am. Ten days later I am savouring each chapter, reflecting on it and how I engage with that aspect of my life. It is a refreshing process. 

Rubin’s first idea is that clutter in our physical space gives permission for mental and emotional clutter to thrive. True. So, her first step was to attack and reorganize the physical clutter. I haven’t spring cleaned since I moved in fifteen months ago. As a result, my spare room and garage have become dumping grounds, and as a result of that, my life hasn’t felt free to do other things. 

Today, I tackle those two rooms. 

Interestingly, I made an event in my calendar to show that I was busy to ensure that it got done. But I felt guilt saying no to two other things I had been invited to. However, I made this appointment with myself prior to the other invitations and needed to maintain the appointment. I had to give myself permission to do this. I’m still feeling a little bit bad but I will feel significantly worse if these two spaces remain cluttered for another three months. 

It’s been an interesting week. I am living more consciously. I make plans and I see them through. I have structured in solitary down time, and made appointments with myself to put my needs first at times. I feel more in control, happier. I am meeting my needs as much as I am meeting the needs of others, and the balance feels good. 

Onward. I will keep you posted. A significant challenge arises when I return to work next week. 

Selfish Tourism 

To my knowledge, I have always respected the laws of the cities and countries that I have visited. Always. I have also respected the culture and traditions of the places that I have visited. 

I do not understand, nor accept, disrespect from tourists/travellers to the laws, culture, customs and traditions of the places they visit. 

Today, nine Australian males were arrested in Malaysia for stripping their clothes off and parading in public in budgie smugglers with the Malaysian flag on the bottom. And later today some people, both in Malaysia and Australia are suggesting that because the men were just having fun their law breaking should be excused. 

Nup. Disagree. 

There is no entitlement permitted in foreign countries if you are violating that country’s laws. Yep, may have just been having fun. Hope it was worth it. 

Life is …

Definitely for living. I’m not quite sure what I am going to write here. There are always hardships in life. No-one can be happy all of the time, and by that what I mean is that life is not always smooth sailing. How we handle those moments/days/months impacts the choices we make. 

Man, the words just don’t want to come today lol. 

My life in recent days has been perfect. I have hung out with family and friends (no real distinction required – they are all family) and am in my bliss. 

I am happy. 

The core of me is happy. I feel the inner calm and tranquility I have longed for, for so long. It won’t last, I know that. And that’s okay. 

But what I’ve noticed is that because I’m living the dream, and am happy, the small triggers of sadness that come have been acknowledged and I have been able to move on from them without them getting below the surface. 

Obviously one of my triggers is anything to do with babies and pregnancy. I will always long to be a birth mother because I wasn’t able to. This means that time with pregnant people, talking about babies and pregnancy, seeing babies and pregnant women, well, it’s hard. Especially if it’s unexpected and I haven’t psychologically prepared myself. And I know this probably sounds a little ridiculous (two years since my last failed attempt and three years since my miscarriage) but it’s a part of the way I now live my life. 

The last few days have included pregnant women, babies and talk about pregnant women. Each time, I acknowledged the moment of pain and was then able to continue. And I think it’s because I’m finally satisfied with my life. It’s not everything I want it to be but I’m on the road to all that I want it to be that is possible. And that makes me happy. 

So, today, I’m living the dream and so grateful for all that is my life. 


There is no experience better at reminding us that life is short. Funerals symbolise the body moving from this realm into earth or ash whilst the soul moves on. Our physical bodies can only carry us so far. 

I had the ‘pleasure’ of attending a funeral today for someone I had never met personally. I attended to offer ‘support’ to one of my dearest friends. Just so that she knew she was important to me, and so that for a couple of minutes she could be in her grief without worrying for everyone else (as she is prone to do; as so many women/mums are prone to do). 

And what a wonderful man her father in law was. The funeral took the form of a Catholic Mass. And, no I wasn’t struck down. My brother in law and nieces follow this faith, so God and I have developed an understanding regarding my presence in his houses. 

I don’t know if my friend’s father in law worshipped in church regularly but I do know that he followed the essence of Christian teachings. And anyone who knows me, knows how much respect I hold for those that walk the talk. 

And this man did. 
His son delivered the eulogy. A very human story. And a story signposted by service to others. In the last few months I have heard a lot about this man and it was always obvious how much my friend adored him. Today his son captured why. Eloquently and with touches of humour. A life lived in a way that touched many other lives without expectation of reward. 

As I sat there, listening and watching, I reflected on the notion of service. It is through times of service that I have felt great happiness; there is something soothing/empowering/uplifting when we are giving to others. I think it is the Dalai Lama who proffers that a life lived in service to others, is a life lived in happiness. I think he is right. And today reminded me of this. 

I am so grateful that I was welcomed to attend. I am so grateful that I went. And grateful to have ‘met’ a man that epitomises and lived his life philosophy. 

How powerful are each of our lives in contributing to the happiness in the lives of those we traverse this lifetime with. 

Make sure you tell those that you love, that you love them. Never let there be any doubt of where people stand in your heart. 

Blessings and love from me to you. 


I once heard that life will only throw at us what we are capable of dealing with. I’ve used this mantra, and everything happens for a reason, to get me through some dark moments in my life. I also try to remember Rome; the very old with the new side by side – everything will be okay. But, I digress. 

I was at my Body Talk appointment last week. And, in the middle of it, I had a flashback to my childhood and a vivid recount of being sexually abused. I have known for a long time that this happened. But always in like photographic moments, never video. This was a week ago. It was bizarre. 

I felt it. Felt the trauma. Felt the peace. All within like five minutes. Processed the event and restored the balance quite fast. I told my practitioner. Thought about it later that night. Mentioned it to a friend on Monday. Thought about it this morning. And, I’m okay. Really okay. 

For me, I think I have been so aware of the impact of the trauma of my childhood on me for such a long time that my goal for happiness and peace now overrides everything. Or, I’m deluding myself and am in shock. Lol. Meh, how do we know. Just have to trust the present moment and current reaction. 

So, why am I mentioning it now and here. Well, sexual abuse stigmatises a child. Definitely of my generation. It was never discussed as openly as abuse is these days. And realistically, how did a child know it was wrong except by how it made them feel, and what frame of reference did a child possess to empower them to trust their reaction. 

But secrecy in general, stigmatises people. I have been involved in something this year that I am not allowed to discuss, under threat of losing my job. The secrecy hurt my sense of self and my concept of my place in my world for 28 weeks, and then I didn’t let it anymore. Within four weeks, this flashback.

And, I’m okay. 

I can’t wait for the day when I am no longer shackled. I will blog freely again. I will be okay. 

Secrecy is not okay though. It damages the psyche. I have always spoken freely about my childhood experiences in a bid to empower others to own their stories. It is only through owning our stories that we believe that we are okay, not the sum of the trauma only, and through which we can claim/reclaim our lives. We move from victim to survivor to enlightened. 

I wish this for everyone. 

Own your story. Own the depths of it. Trust that the emotions are part of the processing of the trauma, and that they are valid. And trust too, that doing the work yields the results. And the result is inner peace, integration of the different parts of us, being the best version of ourselves living our best lives. 

It is possible. 

It is the journey. 


We have the right and responsibility to vote. But, I am not sure we have equality. 

We are still shackled by patriarchy. 

We must look a certain way or we are dismissed. 

We must behave a certain way or we are beaten, slut shamed, dismissed. 

We must still do as we are told, all under the illusion/delusion of freedom. 

I don’t think we were meant to stop fighting. But we did. We believed we had achieved equality and we dropped the fight. As a result, society is moving backwards. 

Young girls are sexually violated; the toys of men who make no attempt to control their animal urges. Young boys, too, violated to be controlled; the way to ensure the gender stereotypes.

Young women are raped, controlled, beaten; subjected to humiliation and degradation through music video clips and foul lyrics, their intelligence undermined by the social need to belong by not rocking the boat. Treated as sexual exploits by men who do not know themselves, and make no attempt to resolve their own inadequacies. 

Older women are ignored, dismissed, non-existent, unless they are sexually desirable. Only then are they seen, but only as a sexual toy, to serve the pleasure of men. 

We had a female PM. Mainstream media ridiculed her, reduced her, denied her. She was “barren”, “unmarried” and “big bottomed”. Her partner was demeaned, his masculinity questioned. The people bought into this rubbish. She was never judged by her merits, just her appearance and lack of sexual desirability. 

Teenage girls believe they must look a certain way, behave a certain way, think (or not think) a certain way, to be desirable, to be accepted, to be okay. 

To succeed. 

As what. Hmmm. 

We still have to fight harder to be heard and to be taken seriously. Society functions following male rules, male justice, male reasoning. Facebook refuses to block users that demean women with a voice. Social media perpetuates the mysogynistic fabric of our society. 

We have forgotten the women who came before us, those who started the fight for equality, and as a result, we have compromised their success. 

Feminist has become a dirty word and women shy away from describing themselves as one. 


There is nothing wrong or dirty or less than in being a female. Nothing wrong at all.