A Dietician 

I’ve never seen a dietician before. As part of my health care plan to manage the diabetes (and reverse it), my doctor referred me to a local dietician. 

I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t what I got. She was lovely (and I know that shouldn’t surprise me, Tan), non-judgemental and realistic in her goals for me. She also gave plenty of advice about how I could start to meet them. 

I have no problem seeing her again, unlike the exercise physiologist. 

Also, since my D&C/hysteroscapy surgery five weeks ago, I have lost eight kilograms. 

Interesting times. I’m going to postpone the weight loss surgery and see if I can do this, at least partially, on my own through diet and reprogramming my grid. 

The Secrets to a Happy Life 

1. Don’t ignore the hard work. If you are sad, work out why. Talk to people about it. Write about it. Paint it. Do something with it. Get it out.

2. Put your needs first when you need to. Do not feel guilty about this. You can’t serve others if you are depleted. You are important too. 

3. Serve. Give back. Be compassionate. Give. 

4. Practice gratitude. Find the small things in every day that give you something. Memorialise these things somehow, somewhere. Be open. 

5. Embrace opportunities. Say yes, even if you want to say no. Try new things. Learn new things. Don’t be stagnant. Go to different places. Explore. Try. Yes. 

6. Get out into the natural world as often as you can. Be still. Close your eyes. Feel the sun or the wind or the rain. Be quiet. Just be. Deep breaths. Feel the spirit coursing through everything, including you. Walk barefoot. Hug a tree. Have your hands out, palms facing. 

Eagle Soaring

There are three bald eagles living here. They live in a variety of birch trees throughout the woods surrounding the lake. Every morning one sits in a tree just down from us and scrutinises the lake. 

I was sitting on the dock this morning watching it. Suzanne and Lynn were with me. We were talking about other worlds. 

I am feeling very zen. I have for a few months now. Occasionally I have anxiety over money but I acknowledge it and turn my energy towards manifesting it. There are more clients than I can handle on my own. I might expand sooner rather than later. 

We went walking through the adjoining woods towards the eagle’s tree. Peace. Quiet. Life. 

There is a strong wind today. Rain had been forecast. Apart from Friday night there has been no sign. Perfect days following perfect nights.

Yesterday was about healing. All of us here are healers in some form. Nine witches; ten when next door’s Lyn pops in. We each sat in the centre of the larger group. I was so reluctant to receive; this is the thing I am currently working on. 

I had two therapeutic massages during the week. They were incredible experiences; healing that filled and realigned my chakras. My solar plexus chakra was larger than it should be, forcing my heart chakra to decrease in size. Whilst it was in perfect function, it couldn’t expand. I feel that that has been corrected. 

Coming to the cabin was exactly what was required. Silence and stillness to restore my equilibrium. 

And so we went to the woods. I am sure that the faerie folk spoke to me. Cheeky smiles and winks beckoning me forward. 

When I came back and sat on the dock, the eagle was soaring. The tide is higher and so I stood. A long car trip in a wet dress – too zen for me 😉. I am sure that the eagle spoke to me. Yes, this trip, an innocent catch up with friends and a wedding, is turning out to be a turning point. 

A massive shift is occurring for me. If I remain open, life will continue to transform. I am continually reminded that each of our lives is filled with great potential, if we allow it. I am reminded that the difference between happiness and sadness, and any other binary opposition, is a single choice. We are all powerful beyond measure and exist as part of a much larger system. 

We are so blessed to live at a time of huge transition for our world, as we know it. We, together, can create the next one. 


Grand Rapids, Minnesota

This is what I am sitting in, immersing myself in, breathing in. No words. Quiet reflection. Deep stillness. Just being. 
Lynn was invited to a friend’s cabin for the weekend with other women; a witch retreat if you will. Everyone here is a healer and/or lightworker in some fashion. 

It’s very quiet. My heart and mind are still. My being wholly in the moment is coming easier and more organically. I have just sat for hours now. Chatting when it arises, being when there is no chat. It’s warm, my skin is pinkening, and there is an increasingly strong breeze. Just shifting the energies, clearing out the debris, all that no longer serves. 

I really am no longer shy. The odd moment of anxiety but I breathe through it, acknowledge it and then slip into trust. It feels very liberating. 

Time out is such a precious gift to give to the soul; living in it and manifesting a life that is always balanced is the rarest, most vital gift. 

Take some time to be outside today. Close your eyes and notice what you hear and feel. What do you see. Acknowledge your thoughts as you continue to breathe – deeply. Just be. Try to stay there for five minutes. Record how you feel after. I’ll bet it changes your day. 



Life is an amazing trip; unexpected twists and turns take us to unexpected places. I remember when I was younger, vowing I would never travel to America because it’s international press was very unflattering. I can be so ignorant at times. 

I loved New York for its underlying magick and pulse. I love Minnesota for its people and beautiful environment. Everything is so green, clean and fresh. 

This is a place I never would have visited if not for India, and meeting Michele and Lynn. This is an experience that would never have been had.

I am so grateful that it has been. 

What a charmed life this girl from Campbelltown is living. People have often told me that my choice to take leave and try other things took courage. For me, at the time, I felt it differently. If I didn’t change something my soul would have died. My life was no longer serving me, and probably hadn’t been for a long time. 

Today, sitting outside Target in Woodbury, Minnesota, a warm summer day with a beautiful clean breeze blowing, having packed my cases in Michele’s car, waiting for a massage and then to Lynn’s for a few days, I understand the courage. 

Every day requires courage to live fully. It might be easier to adhere to the status quo and live an ordinary life, but it is not easy nor rewarding or fulfilling. 

I love the turns my life is taking. I love that my heart is open and willing to form these incredibly strong connections with people. I love that my life, and I, am not ordinary. 

I really don’t know where I’m going. It is somewhat liberating. I have ideas. I’m trying them out. I’m open. 

I do know that I don’t want to move backwards. Life is too rich to live it in a cage. There is so much to see, to do, to experience to be a prisoner to responsibility and routine. Work is important; it pays the bills and enables life. But work cannot be all that there is, and for so long, for me, it has been. I do live my life in fear sometimes but increasingly less so now. I am grateful for the small bursts of courage that empower me to book tickets and do differently.

This year I have snorkelled, I have visited different places, I have reconnected with important people, I am studying, I am writing, I am businessing, and I drove a boat yesterday. 

I am doing. And I am zen. I feel a peace and fulfilment and ability to be wholly present in the moment most of the time. The rewards of courage and connection. 

Today, I urge you, try something different, do something different, something small even, and see where it takes you … 

we all deserve this. 


Everyone Should …

Well. There won’t be any surprises in this post I don’t think. Everyone should travel sometimes. or move out of their comfort zone. Try different things. Be brave.

Remember, it only takes twenty seconds of courage to change your life. Twenty seconds.

My soul learns and affirms so much when I get out of my own way.

However, there were some worriesome minutes at LAX where I thought I was going to be sent right back home. For the line at Customs that I was in, there were three officers checking our credentials and suitability. One officer was taking longer than the others and did not crack one hint of a smile … ever.

Guess who I got.

Questioned my job, questioned my timing of holiday, looked at every stamp in my passport, questioned the sense in visiting people I had only known for a week, met in a retreat, for meditation, in India. I tried my level headed best to stay confident and upbeat. I was shaking inside. And I had nothing to hide. Imagine how terrorists and criminals must feel. 

There are moments in life that I think are spoiled on the young; they do not possess enough history to recognize them. I definitely didn’t. 

From LA to Minneapolis I sat next to two young people whom had never met. Suffice to say, they had a moment. They should be together. I don’t think they recognized it. I will be writing their story. 

Then, the first reunion. My soul lit up as I saw Michele and was reunited with one of my tribe. Magic. I met her incredible family and her young son spoke to me in Australian. It was gold. 

Today I had a massage. A therapy massage. Oh my. Never will I go to the Square or Narellan again. We did some work on my chakras, and I had the most magical and transformative journey. A clearer vision of where I want to go was gifted to me. Each day, I move further away from full time high school teaching and, each day, I feel closer to understanding it all. 

Only movement away from our comfort zone enables and empowers this type of rapid growth and elucidation. 

I love it. 

Target trolleys (carts). Weird lookin’ things. I think it’s the color. 

Make your own Salad. Someone needs to franchise this in Australia. 

This will be a door in my wellness clinic. 

Watertowers letting me know where I am – Woodbury, Minnesota. 

Barnes and Noble. A big store. On its own. God bless America. 

A Very Quiet Week 

Warning: further on in this post there are potential triggers for survivors and victims of childhood sexual abuse, and their parents. 
Between the business and casual teaching, I have had a work filled week which has permitted not much of anything else. But it’s been a calm and soul filling week. 

The kids at the school I am working a lot at are getting to know me and I am getting to know them. I like the staff I work directly with and am becoming a little emotionally connected. I have some blocks coming up too. 

But the exciting news is that tomorrow I leave for the US. In forty eight hours or so I will be reunited with two of my tribe (from our meeting in India last year) and I am so excited. Nervous – I hate being in the way (a value thing) – and excited. I can’t wait to be in their space and share energy with them. 

And the following week I head to Las Vegas for a friend’s wedding. And we are getting tattooed at Pussykat Tattoo Studio. And then she gets married and then I go to the Grand Canyon and then I fly home. A whirlwind trip incorporating time in two places I never thought of going to. 

This is what my gap year/mid life crisis is about: exploring life’s potential and trusting that where I am drawn to, I am meant to be. 

I have found a stillness within me. I’m meditating more and there is a calm in my mind and life. I am finding it infinitely easier to be and to exist for sustained periods of time in the present moment. I talk to my fear, to the odd pop of anxiety, to acknowledge it and then let it go. As a result, I am enjoying the things that I do because I am wholly present in them. 

Teaching is my means to an end. It pays the bills. My business, my study and my writing is my soul work. These light me from within and bring me home. 

I have always struggled to find inspiration and creative freedom to write whilst working, until now. During the week a block that I have found whilst writing my novel was lifted and I have been able to write in small chunks of time, at lunch, between clients, wherever I can, and it has just oozed out of me. 

I am at peace. I have found a type of balance. For now. Interestingly, I’m not taking a laptop with me on my travels – iPad yes, phone yes, laptop no. I hate taking it out of my bag continually at security checkpoints and don’t use it enough to justify it. I will use my phone and transfer it when I get home. 

My novel is about a teenage girl who is raped at a party. In the course of processing it, she learns more about herself, her friends, her family, and the world, than she ever wanted to know. It’s been easy to write at times and more difficult at others. I’ve been researching and have decided to include her mother’s perspective because the role of the mother, whilst pivotal, is never really explored. 

I think my recent experiences of helplessness – through the issue that resulted in the investigation last year – will enable me to empathise with the role of mother in these circumstances – the paralysis, the fear, the not wanting to open a hornet nest, etc. I will obviously also research in other ways. 

If you are the mother or father of a child who has been raped or sexually abused, I would love for you to write to me about your experiences if you feel that you can – not the specifics of the situation necessarily, but definitely your emotional/psychological journey. If you can

Our children live in such an unsafe and disconnected world, I fear for them. Manchester’s events rocked all of us during the week. Targeting young people specifically is a very cruel strategy. But when I reflected further, we always have targeted young people, just not as noisily or blatantly. 

The number of kids in care, or who should be, is ridiculous. The number of kids with parents who work so much they aren’t really present, grows. The number of kids subjected to sexual abuse, physical violence, neglect and emotional abuse, grows. CASA state that 20% of women and 10% of men have reported non-penetrative sexual assault occurred before they turned sixteen, and these numbers are significant disproportionate for indigenous adults. 

Childhood sexual abuse really has become and has stayed a silent epidemic. The long term impact of sexual abuse incapacitates adults, which impacts society. It is an issue that requires a higher social profile because it needs to stop. 

I know, am blessed to know many, and be, a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I’m not whole. I am close to being whole. It has taken, and continues to take, effort and work to maintain emotional and psychological health. At forty six, the impact is significantly less on my life now than it used to be. I have worked hard and for a long time. 

I love that practice, I think Chinese, where the cracks in a bowl are filled with gold – a beautiful metaphor for survivors of trauma. It is our cracks that make us vulnerable to breakage but when filled, make us more resilient and more beautiful than we otherwise would have been. 

Yep. A quiet week but apparently not so quiet in my mind. 

Namaste 🙏🏻🦋

The Inevitable 

It’s 1.35 in the morning. I fell asleep on the lounge around 9.30 last night, waking up an hour ago. I’m now in bed but can’t sleep. I’m reflecting on my week. 

Last night I realized that the inevitable had happened. I have emotionally connected with and become attached to a group of adults and kids at another school. And, I’m okay with it. 

I’ve also realized that whilst I can come across as very arrogant, and at times, behave arrogantly, it’s mostly because I am really good at what I do. Not perfect but really good. And not acknowledged by those in charge, in a very broad sense, for it. I think the arrogance, if that is what it even is, stems from that quest for someone to acknowledge it. A result of damage and trauma no doubt. 

I had a success at work. It made my heart melt. I smiled inside all afternoon. I felt connection. 

There is a boy who struggles with change. The first few times I relieved for various teachers, he couldn’t even come into the room. On Monday he came into the room, and he stayed in the room even when he had the opportunity to leave. 

Yesterday he was reluctant to come into the room but did. And then he started to tease me and play with me. He smiled and he laughed and I just watched him blossom right in front of me into his potential as a happy person. It was so magickal. This transformation. Wow. He trusted me. 

It is such a gift to become the custodian of someone’s trust. As a teacher, it is our reward.

He completed no work but I have always maintained that to learn, we need to trust the teacher, and building that relationship takes time. Small steps. Being consistently in the unit is enabling and empowering me to build the relationships, with kids and with the staff. 

I think I’m feeling a return, from deep inside of my soul, to my passion for teaching, separate from the bullshit that can be the profession. A return to wanting to make a difference in people’s lives. To caring and to trust that caring is okay. 

And inevitably, this leads to an understanding of the extent to which last year has damaged me. I always trusted that my employers would look after me, and they didn’t. And this is why, even with renewed passion and yearning to make a difference, my days in the profession are restricted. 

Teachers need to feel empowered and inspired by the leaders in their organization, and that doesn’t happen. To ‘succeed’ you need to be a certain type of person, and that isn’t me, can’t be me, not interested in it being me. I have always created my own success in partnership with my kids. And that was enough for a very long time. 

But it isn’t anymore. I’ve lost respect for the institution. I don’t trust that the organization knows what is in the best interests of its ‘clients’, and that teachers are no longer empowered or supported to undertake their core duties. You need to look no further than NAPLAN reform and continual syllabi changes to see this. 

There needs to be fundamental change in every aspect of and at every level of the education machine in this country, and unfortunately, apart from the odd random twinge of politicalisation, I’m not interested in the fight. Maybe that spirit will return one day, but I don’t see it happening just now. 

Still too damaged. 

What a week! 

Tina is exhausted. Surgery last Friday, workshop and comedienne on Saturday, slept Sunday, taught and tutored Monday, organized tutoring lessons for the week Tuesday, tutored Tuesday and Wednesday, grocery shopped Wednesday and had lunch with a friend, worked today and tutored after work, working tomorrow and tutoring after work. Tutoring and mentoring all day Saturday. Teaching and tutoring Monday and Wednesday next week (at this point). Leaving for the US the following Monday. Tutoring every day next week including Saturday. 

Two days off before I head overseas. 

Tina is exhausted. Tina is also very happy. 

I have almost mastered this living in the present thing. Happiness empowers one to move from one second to the next with ease. It also empowers one to sift through the garbage; I don’t react to everything anymore. I pick the battles. I pick the moments. 

It brings me happiness. It inspires happiness. Happiness enables it. 

The purpose of life is happiness. 

Every action and every choice should lead to and enable that. If it doesn’t, fuck it off. 


I had my surgery today. I was okay with it all when I posted yesterday. Mostly okay. My wonderful gynaecologist confirmed the surgery after 9 last night. I had a moment. I had to be at Liverpool Private by 11 this morning. Earlier than originally anticipated. That required changes in plans. 

I cried. I felt so sorry for myself. So sorry for myself that I didn’t avail myself of any offers of help that had been offered by many different people. So sorry for myself I just wanted to feel like a victim and blame the world. It was emotionally just too hard and I didn’t understand and why so I reverted to my two year old self. 

I’m an idiot. 

By quarter to ten I had pulled my head in, spoken sense to myself, all too late. My tantrum disempowered myself, ironically when I wanted control. Common trend of behaviour for me when I feel powerless (but are we really ever powerless? No.) and behaviour that I do not respect in myself. 

It is so easy to play victim and become petulant and hate the world. It is harder for me to accept that it is okay to rely on other people sometimes. And this is a trust issue, stemming way back to my very early childhood. 

I’m 46 now. I’m no longer a child. And I dictate my life’s trajectory. Last night I forgot this. I’m shaking my head at my behaviour with a wry grin. Don’t panic. I am being kind to myself and cutting myself some slack. And I know that my surgery is laden with grief about my failed attempts to become a birth mum. 

Because I barely slept. And when I did, I processed. So I woke up feeling nervous but better about it. Contemplated texting my ff to ask if she could drive me but decided I was okay with the bus and train. I had to trust that I was okay even though I thought it might be nice to talk to someone. 

The universe will always conspire to provide what we need. 

First train was cancelled and an old friend happened to be catching the same train so we talked and talked and talked. Thank you, Anne. 

The walk was easy. I was calm. At peace. 

I was admitted. My blood pressure was good. My sugars were okay. I’d been through this before for my egg retrievals. And then I got it. 

The tantrum was the memory of all that came before. Three times I’ve been in hospital for procedures. Three times I woke to find a number written on my hand (eggs retrieved). Three times it came to naught ultimately. 

Once, it resulted in a miscarriage with lots of blood. That ultimately resulted in my last bout of long term bleeding. That time of my life hurt me a great deal. I still think of the child that would have been. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m in a good place with my childlessness. But I’m also conscious my life is different now because of that. 

I was lying in my bed outside of the theatre for over an hour. The anaesthetist had been caught up somewhere. I was completely at peace. I gave myself a reiki and focused on breathing and being present. I could hear the tinny sound the hands of the clock made and so I counted the seconds in lots of five. 

And I watched them tick over. 

Occasionally my mind moved to other thoughts, contemplating not terrorizing myself, about life. What if I died on the table. Had I lived a happy life. Would I be at peace. Resoundingly, yes. I have no will. I know my pets would be looked after. Would there be custody fights. I haven’t left a copy of all my passwords anywhere. No one knows who has keys. It was interesting. 

And then I’d come back and count again. 

Nurses came and went. I had to repeat answers to the same mundane questions. Changing nurses. Changing shifts. My lovely doctor laughed with me; I hadn’t eaten since last night and it was now well after one. Concern over my sugars but not re-tested because the new nurse didn’t listen to the previous nurse. Death could be a reality. New anaesthetist. Surgery done. 


I love coming out from anaesthetic. Very sore vagina. Lots of blood. Discomfort. 

Panadeine forte. 


An old Asian man in recovery next to me. Beautiful soul and smile. Shift change. Relatives rung. Food provided. Time to get dressed. 

I walked past his chair. He said, “You can walk.”

I smiled, threw my hands in the air, and said, “It’s a miracle.” 

We laughed. 

He walked past me, arms in the air. He said, “I can walk.”

I laughed, “Another miracle!”

He namaste’d me. 


My fertility is done. I have a Mirena IUD. Five years. I’m waiting for the no period. I’ll bleed heavily for a few days, maybe a week. My results will be back within two weeks. Hopefully all will be good. Hopefully the mass wasn’t cancer. 

At any rate, I think I’m still a little high. 

I’m going to bed.