Awakening 

Surgery went well. I was exhausted by the end of yesterday, and only suffering discomfort and occasional pain in my nether regions. I’ll find out within two weeks if the material taken is cancerous or not. It will be fine regardless. 

Because surgery was unexpected, I had made big plans for yesterday, and there was no way I was missing either unless I was dead. 

My friends Kylie and Mel, and I, travelled to Berry for Alana Fairchild’s War Council of Love workshop. It was with Alana that I had completed the life transforming work in India last year. I’m sure you can understand why I was excited. 

Seventy women. I figured there would be many healers in that room and the energy would be healing for my battered body. I was correct. 

A massive day. A lot of introspection regarding our own healing needs before turning that towards healing the planet. The workshop culminated in group work. We listed the negative things we wanted vanquished from the world, designed a flag to wave for our cause and composed a war cry/chant. Ours was:

I am woman 

Hear me roar

We don’t want this shit

No more 

And then we roared. Truly liberating and powerful and hilarious. I think I’ve messed up the third line but you get the idea. The energy was palpable. 

Earlier in the day I had experienced a profound meditation. The first image was funny, literally a bird flying but a cut out photo of my face had been glued onto the bird’s face, but then it and I morphed into a most beautiful snow white owl. I was the owl, flying and staring intently into my eyes, letting me know that yesterday’s surgery was about cutting out my entire last 46 years so that the rest of my life would not be tainted by that trauma, pain, life. I was free to rebuild and transform, and the owl reminded me to never go backwards. 

Writing it now actually has enabled me to realize the magnitude and strength of the message of the meditation, more so than when I experienced it yesterday. 

Just, wow. 

I was then able to project healing strands of purple, white and silver ribbon from my heart into the room, around the people, and into the broader world. Empowering. 

There was a woman present yesterday. She was fundraising. For homeless women. Each week she gathers with them in a park in Sydney, providing lunch, for connection. It started many years ago as a small group and has grown. Our ability to impact the lives of others is profound; our actions do not have to be huge to be effective. I was very moved by her work. 

And I wonder what I can do to make a difference. 

Driving to Berry was magickal and driving home was magickal. The faerie folk are always present near Berry, their songs carried by the mist whilst their activities are protected. 


Oooh and a lyre bird ran out across the road in front of us on the way yesterday.  My belief in no coincidences lead me straight to Google. 


Similar words and sentiments were echoed throughout the workshop. It is always important to watch out for the messages we are given by the divine, whatever you might call that. 

I love Berry. It is beautiful. It possesses a beautiful energy, a rich indigenous energy, that eclipses time. It truly is a magickal place. 


And then, a very quick change of clothes, fresh makeup and I bolted to Campbelltown so that Margo and I would make it to The State Theatre in Sydney for Julia Morris. Almost a complete hour and a half of laughter for me. Laughter is great medicine for the soul. And I love it. 

And I love middle aged comediennes who subvert expectations of womanhood. Her language was foul: bold and empowered, and her humour was relatable, especially her anger at the world. And then, profound in its simple message. 

We all have choices. We choose how we will respond in any given situation. 

I sometimes choose anger to entertain, because my language is also foul and it makes others laugh, but also to release any pressure that may be building. Releasing it gradually ensures that I don’t blow and that I maintain some sort of equilibrium most of the time. 

I like the zen state. 

I like the peace. 

I like the knowledge that all will be okay, that all is as it should be, and that I will survive. 

It’s safe. 

Happy Mother’s Day. Commercial folly. It is Mother’s Day every day. 

Some clarity, only some ūüėõ

This month is about building business and success, lessons being learned and trust. It’s very easy to not worry about money when you have a regular and reasonable pay cheque.

I am not receiving much casual teaching work – a couple of days each fortnight if. It is forcing me to adjust the way I live, the way I spend and the way I think. My savings are almost gone; they were meant to last the year and finance all of my travel plans. Very little casual teaching means that they have financed my rent, loan repayments and life. 

This morning, after talking sense to myself for days, I’ve woken up focusing on the gift of this time of a transforming life. How truly blessed I was to have savings that enabled and empowered me to say no to working full time this year in a job that had left my passion for life behind at some point. 

And, my business has grown significantly this term. If I had priced myself appropriately and structured my business slightly differently, lessons learned, I would be generating more income. 

Today, I woke after 7. I have been waking at 6 every day, phone on volume, anxious to hear the phone ring or a message tone, wanting work but not wanting to go to work. 

An interesting bind, and very much a first world, white, privileged problem. 

I love my business; I’ve met wonderful kids and wonderful parents. I enjoy the preparation for my sessions, even if it is psychological and mental preparation only at times. My house is always tidy. My pets are happy – I’m home during most days. I’m happy. I’m balanced. I have time for me. This lifestyle is an empathic introvert’s dream. I’m not suffocated by the conflicted social emotions of being around people all of the time; it’s refreshing. 

I need to let go of the money concerns that have been plaguing me. I have enough. I need to trust that I will be provided with everything I need as I need it. 

It really is as simple as that. I am meant to be where I am. This is all my path, exactly as it should be. And I’m happy. 

So today, it’s 820, I’m lying in bed, reflecting, I’ll get up soon, I’ll have breakfast, I’ll update my business account, I’ll complete an assignment, and I’ll possibly write. I have four chapters of my book to finalise and I have enough space around me to create and write. 

I need to be focusing on that blessing; or is this the real root of my fear? Yep, interesting psychological turn there. That whole fear of failure/fear of success thing. 

Disappearing

It’s been a significant week for me. A lot of emotional and psychological processing about a lot of things; some important, some not. 

One of the first students I ever taught is the Principal of a primary school in a very socio-economically disadvantaged area, an area that we both grew up in. But the disadvantage almost stops the second that you walk through the doors of her school. 

And I had that privilege on Monday. 

No school is perfect, I know that. But some schools function differently to others and the atmosphere very much reflects the leadership. I have never before walked into a school that felt so liberated and so open. The people I encountered all seemed to genuinely and unreservedly be happy to be at work. They seemed to be enjoying working together; no games and no undertones of treachery or malice. 

I left in the afternoon questioning whether it was time to retrain, become a primary school teacher and work there. It is a beautiful thing to see others following their calling and making a huge difference in the lives of others. A truly beautiful thing. I became inspired to teach again. Thank you, Tammy. 

This week too, my clientele has grown substantially. I am servicing more children. And I love it. I feel that passion I once felt for teaching returning. I am enjoying the diversity of client and love going to work. 

This has created small psychological hurdles, which I am navigating. Over time, unbeknownst to me, I have allowed myself to become impacted by the negativity of others, to the extent that whilst I say I am amazing, and often believe it, when someone else tells me or I achieve success, I question my worthiness. This week I have been questioning when I will be found out and my success will come crashing down. 

I think we all see ourselves as fraudulent some times. Don’t get me wrong, I know that I am an exceptional teacher, and that I possess a way of working with kids that empowers them to see, and to trust, their own value/brilliance/ability etc – I own that. I guess I have pigeon holed myself in a role and never envisaged my own potential or the potential for my life. I was always going to be a teacher because I had always wanted to be a teacher. And now that my life is opening up, I’m seeing a world that is different to what I’ve always known as mine. 

I am a small business owner. I am a teacher. And, I am so much more than all of these labels. Labels provide safety but they also restrict growth. My teacher label provided job and financial stability, but the same label has also hindered me fulfilling all of my own and my life’s potential. Until now. 

Yes, the investigation I was under last year resulted in burn out, but what a wonderful gift it provided me to force transformation and growth. And how blessed do I feel in my freedom. I set my own hours and I can work when I choose to. 

This week I have started feeling calmer. I have stopped watching every penny that has left my purse, bathed in financial anxiety. I have started to embrace my alternative working life, a flipped employment. I have taken control of my business recording and I am enjoying getting up every day. I feel happy, content, focused and driven. 

And my blood pressure is almost normal (140 over 85 – amen). 

It hasn’t been easy emotionally, and I dare say I will still struggle at times, but I feel the new dawn rising above the horizon, and the darkness is ending. 

And what better way to mark this than with a tattoo. Tonight, this part of my life narrative will be etched into my skin; this part of my journey memorialised. 

#livingacharmedlife #blessed #withbravewingssheflies #tattoogirl

My Birthday Wish 

Ah, 46. Four away from 50. When I was a girl, fifty seemed so old and sixty was positively ancient. But, not anymore. I feel no different to thirty, except that I know I’m wiser, and I like myself now. 

I live a truly blessed life. I am free and I was born in the most beautiful country in the world. I am surrounded in luxury and share my life with some amazing people. 

My wish this year is not wholly for myself, even though, if I’m honest, I hope my life stays blessed, including the challenges that steer me forward but hurt in the process. My wish this year is for the people around me, in the flesh as well as my friendships, started in the flesh, but maintained through Facebook. 

And my wish is this … 

that we all continue to embrace the challenges that confront us so that we are empowered to grow. That we feel the love coming to us, arms encircling us, especially in our darkest moments. That the loneliness we sometimes feel is fleeting, and ultimately, inspires us to hold those we love a little tighter. That we continue to turn towards one another for inspiration rather than away from one another in fear. That we really see the beauty in each day, the small things that inspire gratitude and the big things that make us smile. That we know that we are doing our very best, especially on the days that our strength is depleting, and that we remain kind to ourselves and forgiving of others. That we love wholly, ourselves, others, our pets, the animals, the environment and the majick folk. That we love our lives, and if we do not love our lives, the courage to dream big and manifest our dreams, one small step at a time. 

I wish for a roof over our heads, safety, food, warmth in winter and cool in summer, friends, family, connection, education, gratitude, happiness, peace (yes you, Trump, Putin, Kim Jong un, and all other dictators), but most of all, passion to be in every second of every day, and big steel capped Doc Martens to fight every battle that comes your way in style and with grace. 

I wish all of us, warriors on a shared path, success and strength and conviction; renewed energy on the hard days, and a good doona to cocoon ourselves in when we need to hide until that energy brews. I wish us all a sense of humour and the ability to discern when something isn’t our issue. I wish us love. And, chocolate. And, potato salad. 

I wish that we all remember that trouble is temporary and we are the engineers of our own lives. We will be treated as we allow people to treat us and our lives will be exactly what we choose for them to be. 

I wish you enough hope and faith that you are safe, living your best life. 

Happy next year ahead to all of us! 

Breakthrough

So I was just sitting here, watching Dr Phil, my head pounding, and I thought, “I struggle with my Birthday because I don’t believe I’m worth celebrating.” 

I know how ridiculous that is, but it’s truly what came into my head. I know I am worth it but it’s like I don’t believe other people will think I am. Lower my expectation, minimize disappointment. How f’ed in the head is that?! 

And I stand by what I said the other day, this stems from the IVF journey; the journey that just keeps giving lol. And that stems from being single.

For the majority of my life, probably until I hit my late thirties and forties, I hadn’t believed I was worth what I now think is very obvious worth. IVF compounded this because even though I was surrounded by people, it is a very alone journey, not lonely but alone. There are aspects of it that only the woman could understand, even in the most loving relationship. 

The drugs, the injections, the emotional rollercoaster, the listening and feeling and questioning every single physical aspect, well, you do that alone. The continual failure takes its toll. And then miscarrying, and misvarrying entirely alone and isolated, well, that compounded it all too. 

And so I learned I would do my life myself. I would pull back from everything (except work) to protect myself. I think when I wanted people to just know what to do, and to just be who I needed and wanted them to be, and they weren’t, I internalized that by reverting to my childhood narrative. The one where I’m not pretty enough, funny enough, smart enough, worth enough. 

Then there was the workplace bullying, healing from the miscarriage and another failed IVF, and then the investigation, more ‘voices’ telling me I wasn’t good enough; to the extent that my support network was shut down by the institution through their installation of fear by threatening that I would lose my job. 

Oh wow. No wonder my head is abnormal ūüėČ trying not to swear lol. 

And that’s why when my friend said we needed to do something for my birthday, and suggested something, and organized it, respecting my request to keep my birthday quiet, I was happy to say yes: best of both worlds, celebration without pressure. 

I’m looking forward to my birthday. A year wiser in a transformative year. A year where I am rebuilding my entire life, from the ground up. 

What a blessing courage is. 

What a blessing freedom is. 

What a blessing this life is. 

Happy Birthday, Tina. You are becoming, you are, the woman you always wanted to be. I’m proud of you kiddo! 

Between Places 

A part of me is afraid to let go of teaching. It’s a weird place to be. It isn’t surprising though. 

I wanted to be a teacher and a writer synonymously. Becoming a teacher was easier I think, and I was going to use it to support my writing. I just didn’t manage both. I gave all to teaching: becoming better at it, the students, their families, the school. I left no real breathing space for myself.

I was talking with one of my best and closest friends on Monday. I told her that I didn’t know when my passion for teaching went, when I stopped loving going to work every day. She told me that she knew; it was the last time I took leave without pay. 2008. 

And I think she is right. 

I had a few years in there, finishing prior to being under investigation, in the Creative and Performing Arts faculty, where some passion came back. The staff I was working with, and the Reading to Learn and ALARM programs rejuvenated that passion. I felt alive again because I was fulfilling my creative potential I think. 

There was no real passion last year, love but not passion. 

On Monday, whilst out with my friend, we ran into a few of my students. Oh my. I loved seeing them. I miss the play with the kids, the symbiosis, the laughter. I miss regular contact with some of the staff. I don’t miss the politics, the gossip, the egos, the welfare, the long hours and the frustration. I do miss my classroom. 

I’ve been struggling to go back to one of my adolescent fiction novels about a teen who is raped at a party even though I’ve been writing it in my head. And I think it is because I am putting the writing first. Stepping onto that path and owning it has given me pause. 

I need to do what I usually do, acknowledge the fear and jump anyway. 

So, I leave you to pick up my laptop and to continue writing her story. 

Climate Change? Hmmm …

Throughout the years, I have had many discussions with intelligent people about the validity of climate change. Is the earth freezing inevitable? Historically, yes. This fast? Nup, I don’t think so. 

Regardless, I think we do need to look at the way that we live in the first world. We are disconnected, we are out of balance, and we have lost respect for the miracle of nature and it’s ecosystem. People, animals, the earth … all in crisis. 

Click the link. We have been on this planet for not much more than a blink of the eyes …

http://youtu.be/VrzbRZn5Ed4

“Trauma not transformed becomes trauma transferred.”

Below is a link to a TED Talk presented by Ashley Judd. It has strong language content (including the c word) and some possible triggers for trauma in all its guises (in particular sexual assault and/or domestic violence). 

But it is amazing. 

Ashley Judd is a Hollywood actress and is outspoken. She speaks up. In fact, I should have introduced her as an activist first. That says something. 

Her talk focuses on gender trolling online and how that manifests in women’s real lives. Some of you may roll your eyes at this point, maybe stop reading, maybe not click the link. It will not only be your loss but also the world’s loss. She has some things to say that we all need to hear. And that we need to act on. 

Now. 

I have seen this gender specific trolling in comments on posts on Facebook (my social media addiction of choice). They appear whenever a woman voices an opinion. The trolling is designed to minimise the voices of women and terrify women into submission. 

It is disgusting. 

When we minimise, demonise or objectify women, we are changing the fabric and humanity of society. The consequences of this serve none of us in the long term. 

We all need to be supported to fulfil our potential and purpose in living. For anyone to intentionally bring another person down and corrupt this process is not only reprehensible but also exceptionally dangerous. When we are treated as less than, the ripple effect permanently changes the world we live in. Trauma not transformed becomes trauma transferred, and we are all responsible for minimising the impact of trauma as well as the incidence of it. 

I hope you ‘enjoy’ the talk. 

How online abuse of women has spiraled out of control https://www.ted.com/talks/ashley_judd_how_online_abuse_of_women_has_spiraled_out_of_control

I Love Lucy

I ended the third month of my gap year with an oracle reading from Lucy Cavendish. I usually won’t get readings because I firmly believe that we know the answers ourselves. In times of transformation though, I like confirmation or clarification. And that’s why I booked to see Lucy. 

Well, that was one reason. 

In my early twenties I started reading New Age stuff. Whilst reading Dawn Hill’s fourth book, I became excited. There was a chapter in it describing the person’s religion and all of a sudden I felt home; I had found a name for everything I believed in. It brought, after the excitement, a deep calm and joy that still exists today. 

I started reading everything I could get my hands on and entered Scott Cunningham’s world. As much as I usually shy away from labels, I found this one very empowering: Wiccan. I was a Wiccan. 

It was the nineties. The New Age and alternative religions were flourishing. The stigma was great and stereotyping rampant. I was a proud Wiccan. I didn’t care. I wasn’t alive to convert or indoctrinate others; I just wanted to live my life my way. 

Enter Lucy. 

Lucy Founded and edited the first magazine I ‘subscribed’ to: Witchcraft. I lapped up every edition. It empowered me, and I’m sure, many other solitary practitioners, by building a community of sorts. And community, at its most ideal, let’s us know that we don’t travel alone. 

The magazine eventually folded and I kept on my path. 

The year before last I found Global Contact in Berry. It’s a beautiful esoteric shop owned and managed by Patsy. And Patsy organises readers and teachers from a variety of disciplines to teach or facilitate workshops. 

Last year I signed up for Oracle Reading presented by Lucy. I had forgotten that Lucy had concocted Witchcraft. I read for friends but didn’t trust myself or my guides enough to not use the books; this day annihilated that habit. 

And I was so impressed by Lucy’s calm, gentle yet empowered presence. So I jumped at the opportunity of a reading. 

She did not disappoint. 

Since I could write, I wanted to be a writer. This gap year is partly to find out what my next steps are as well as to use the time to write. Teaching, in some ways, was supposed to fund my writing career. Yes, I was naive. 

The reading enabled Lucy to verbalise my ideal life. I welled up as my dreams poured from her mouth. 

“You are a story teller. That is your role.”

A cottage, surrounded by books, homely with the pets, happy, inspired working, a frugal life. But, my cottage. 

Yes. That is how I have always pictured my best life. 

But I don’t finish anything. I get scared. 

I am looking to my future and my hand has let go of teaching but my feet are still mired to it. And that is okay but it will change. And I need to let it/make it do just that. 

I will read my words in libraries. 

Lucy is not the first reader to envision this. My guides have told me this before. I listened then sort of – it gave me courage to take leave for this year. This time I need to make it happen. 

No excuses. Trust. 

On the way to tutoring, after the reading, my creative mind took over and inspiration ambushed me. Today, after cleaning, I will write. 

I am excited. 

As I said to Lucy as I thanked her, she has given me permission to give myself permission to be all that I have ever wanted me to be. What a beautiful gift! 

My friend Mel had a reading before me and we quickly met up in a cafe to exchange summaries. She texted me last night to say that my energy shifted entirely from before to after the reading and time with Lucy. I was buzzing. 

I guess that’s what happens when we are given permission to pursue our dreams; we become alive. 

What a blessing: to live whilst breathing. 

Revelations Upon Waking

I keep focusing on the negative in my relief teaching at a new school. I make jokes and accentuate how difficult it is. And it is difficult but it isn’t impossible. I’m feeding that negative outlook. Foolishly. 

Upon waking this morning, I was struck with successes I have been having. 

Yes, there are a lot of classes that are misbehaving and that are very hard work. But those kids are the ones to greet me in the playground, are the ones who settle after a few periods, are the ones to long for contact outside of the classroom, and within it. 

I don’t know why I’m feeding the negative. Maybe it is too humbling starting all over. Maybe I feel like I should be failing so that I leave teaching or so I don’t miss it as much when I do. Maybe it keeps everyone’s expectations of me low. Maybe I don’t feel supported by my old school so I’m trying to prove to myself that they were right. 

Maybe I’m overthinking it all and just need to chill lol. 

What I take from this is that we all need to feed the positive, irrespective of how small or seemingly insignificant that positive is. Feeding the position Ve nurtures the positive to magnify. Surely, we can all use more positive in our lives.