A Valuable Lesson

I’m back to being self-absorbed (am I ever not 🤔). I cried a lot yesterday. I felt very sorry for myself in parts. Sorry for others in the other parts. I woke up this morning after a long sleep, feeling like I’d been hit by a bus and rolled over by a truck.

No surprises there. When I’m sad, I become self-destructive in the sense that I start to have very high expectations of those around me. So high, that no one can reach them or come close to fulfilling them. The soul sisters had messaged me. They were both awake, with time, and we could unpack the purpose of the shadow self.

I knew there were old behaviour and emotion patterns that needed to be broken, and were so presenting themselves AGAIN. They have reared their heads now because I am in transition and they will not serve me in my next phase. I needed to acknowledge them, wrestle with them, speak to them, and ultimately, love and release them.

Healing work takes time, and I’ve realised, with such busy lives, we don’t tend to make time for it. I used to a lot more than I do now. Ironically, running a healing business takes my time. I grin wryly and shake my head at the folly that is human.

I gave myself permission to not feel guilt when I cancelled my plans today. When the guilt rises, I let it know that it’s okay that today, we put our needs first. And it is okay, even though I feel like I’ve been doing it a hell of a lot, too much, in recent weeks. Then, I chat to my shame and I let it know that it’s okay, we are in transition and we are growing and that causes disruption.

It’s important to walk the talk. I preach at others to do what they need. When they present excuses, I am firm. It is more than okay that I make myself do what I tell others to do because I know it works. So, I have.

Off to Bunnings to grab a few final touches for my meditation space. I realised that just being near the plants released stick parts of myself, so on the way home, I explored roads I’ve never been down (I did think they lead somewhere different, but it didn’t matter that they didn’t go where I thought they would).

Words kept going through my head – you have to become lost to find yourself.

A constant mantra as, mesmerised, I stopped the car to be mindful of and to where I was. I expressed gratitude and kept going, stopping every fifty or so metres to acknowledge the different sights, sounds and feelings.

I was free. I was empowered. I was present.

After hitting the car’s undercarriage on a rock, I was forced to turn around and head back to a road I knew.

I live very close to a national park. It’s one of my soothing places. I don’t go there enough. I’m scared of being raped and murdered and no one finding the body because I’ve turned location settings off on my phone. I know. Welcome to my brain. Residue from childhood trauma.

Today, though, I turned right without hesitation and started the descent to the dried out lake beds.

I love water and I am devastated that there is no water in the lakes anymore (thank you, fracking). However, the bush is still there, and it soothes my soul almost as much as water does. Well, today it did that and more.

There were people eating lunch and I’m avoiding humans to the best of my ability, so I decided to walk down a walking track – just a little way.

Oh my. Forget your pain. Forget your self-obsession. Forget everything. Just be.

I started to feel inspired. Ideas for workshops started to crystallise. Directions became clear. My spirit strength gushed back through my veins and arteries, exploding my heart.

I only felt mildly concerned when some guys on trail bikes were at the head of the path and the other picnickers had gone. I don’t think males appreciate how vulnerable females can feel.

I started the journey home. I felt lighter.

And then, the purpose to the misery yesterday revealed itself. Funnily, I had to feel, really feel, something I believe and something I always say, to the extent it’s the byline for both of my businesses – empower yourself.

Healing is a solo journey. Healers hold space so that you are safe as you journey your healing path. But, ultimately, healing is a solo endeavour. And, it’s scary to do it alone.

I think it’s human nature to want someone else to hold you, to save you, to do the work. To be there, even just to listen and to hold your hand. I also think that that doesn’t really help you brave the healing wilderness and come out the other side, more whole than when you started.

This is MY life. I am responsible for it. I, and only I, am responsible for it. I make choices, as an adult, that dictate my days and my life. I need to walk the path alone so that I can be mindful of everything I experience along the way. Other people can offer their wisdom and their support, but ultimately, I need to do the work to attain my own wisdom.

Personal responsibility and empowering the self.

I know what makes me feel peaceful. It’s nature. When I’m out of balance, and I know when I am, I need to go into nature. But, so often, too often, I don’t. I put the needs of others and my ‘responsibilities’ first. I have dozens of excuses to not do what my soul cries for.

And I face the consequences for not listening.

I am worthy of giving to myself first. Just as you are. In fact, it’s my core responsibility. Without fulfilling it, I am less able to do the things I choose to do for others.

Healed. Lol. Thank you, kind old tree.

Life CAN Be Hard

Modern life can be really hard. We work long hours to pay for the rent/mortgage, power, gas, phone, internet, cars and their many expenses, food, school fees, and the list goes on.

The time we have off, we feel pressured to socialise and catch up, when all we really want to do is lie on the lounge to prepare our energy to repeat the entire process the following week.

Life can be hard.

It doesn’t have to be.

We choose for it to be.

Me included.

It doesn’t have to be though.

Three weeks ago, I turned my intermittent meditation into a daily ritual. I’m sleeping much better and more deeply. I wake feeling more energetic.

I’m not the guru of meditation. I use an app (Insight Timer) and I try different meditations, mostly guided. It works for me.

A week ago, I decided to follow my sister’s example and, except for business, disengage from social media. All of a sudden, without mindless scrolling, I have more ‘free’ time. My mind is less cluttered and I feel more grounded.

I also decided to stand on the grass for five minutes a day to just breathe. I feel more centred and calmer.

I’m consciously and mindfully eating and engaging with food. I have more energy and feel like I’m healing my body.

Life can be hard. Our choices make the difference.

What Happens When We Let Go

I left teaching seven weeks ago. I haven’t looked back. I was past my ‘best before’ date and I knew it. I still have a hundred percent in the classroom, but I wasn’t as motivated outside of it. Probably because I was running a business outside of school hours and all day Saturday; there was no time.

I am now working seven days a week. I’m knackered lol. I’m blissfully happy too. I’m growing my business and creating new pathways for myself; I am living my dream. Did I mention, I’m exhausted. Lol.

The last couple of weeks has been bizarre.

I was first contacted by an ex-colleague who has offered me the opportunity to run a stress relief, mindfulness and meditation session for Year 7 students at her school. Yes, please, thank you. Humbled and initially terrified, I accepted. Of course I can do this 😳.

After saying YES, the universe realised I was willing to accept opportunities and was serious about not going back to teaching in a school.

I was then contacted by an ex-student from another lifetime altogether and asked if I was interested in running meditation/healing in his centre.

Yes, please.

From that meeting, a whole other new opportunity emerged to work with the Department of Housing, developing and implementing programs to support the empowerment of women. Oh my. It’s still sinking in. That was the end goal of my business; it’s come ten years early.

Yes, please.

And, then, realising that what they want is just who I am. No bells or whistles, just what I do every day being me.

What a gift. I am beyond grateful. It is amazing what transpires and manifests when you just let go …

Let go of everything that no longer serves you, of everything that does not bring you happiness and joy, of everything that no longer fits … and you create openings and space for everything that you do want, to come in.

It’s a process, but man, such a worthwhile one.


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. 

Moving Meditation

Each day we participate in a group workshop. Whilst they follow a structure, the theme of each is different and builds upon the day before’s work. 

They are intense. Incredibly emotional and confronting. Too private to post or process here at this time. However, yesterday’s yielded an interesting meditation for me. And I have decided to share it here. 

A substantial part of the workshop is a moving meditation. For those that have never participated in these, they can be confronting, requiring a leap of faith and trust. Basically, music is played and you let your body do what it needs to do. My first of these was in Berry two years ago and I struggled but did it. I dance at home alone a lot, but in front of other people, not liking your body or self much, even with eyes closed, is difficult. Here though, I have embraced the moving meditations until yesterday. 

Our theme was masculine energy. Ultimately with a focus on how we define or redefine it in our lives. During the discussion I realised that in my work I am masculine energy personified. And I don’t like it. I can be too hard and too aggressive. I found this confronting. 

It’s not to say that the masculine energy is bad. It isn’t. And, as a side note, masculine energy is not the same as masculine gender; it refers to the qualities of the energy. Masculine energy has saved my life. It has given rise to the warrior woman that I have become. But it has also compromised my more vulnerable and free flowing side. Something that Mel and I have become conscious of in my Body Talk sessions. 

Anyway, I sat to start the moving meditation and didn’t get up. As soon as I closed my eyes and became conscious of my breath, a movie reel started. 

In Berry earlier this year, I encountered my Amazonian warrior woman in a guided meditation. My movie reel opened with her brother or son in the same field, spear raised about to kill a fish. He stopped. The reel then moved to a montage of scenes where masculine energy has destroyed people, civilisations and cultures. All of the expected devastation was invoked and the leaders responsible floated before me. 

This continued for a while and I cried. The aggression was heartbreaking. An Aboriginal man appeared, a close up on his face. Sadness etched the lines of his face and pleaded from his eyes. An ancestral sadness, that drew me into his eyes and to more indigenous cultures. I cried freely as I continued to watch the destruction caused by masculine energy, and saw and felt the extreme hurt that caused the manifestation of the energy in this devastation. 

And then, the Dalai Lama appeared. Hands held in prayer and that smile. This is the divine masculine energy. Warrior when necessary but always with deep compassion, not the aggression that generally typifies masculine energy. 

Free m this point, my Amazonian warrior man reappeared doing pirouettes and leaps across the field. I laughed. He danced his way to a stage, where my Amazonian warrior woman joined him, clapping whilst he sang modern pop songs. She fulfilled a role of support without compromising her own status. 

They eventually morphed into one energy. I understood my message. Compassion and support were the way of the modern warrior. 

But how could I integrate that into my daily practice, I asked. Was it even possible?

And the Dalai Lama answered, “Compassion. Understanding. Communication.”

I came back, giggling. 

Powerful stuff shifting here. 

First World Problems 😉

Too much of my life at home involves work and television. It is hard to switch off and just be, here in India. It will no doubt get easier, but I am conscious it is difficult for me to enjoy not having to do anything and just focus on myself. 

Like I said, first world problem. 

Interesting things to note about Tina from yesterday include:

* I push myself to push beyond my shyness more readily now than I used to. Maybe I’m not so shy anymore. Maybe I’m just better at pushing beyond my natural comfort zone. Maybe I’ve just realized that nothing has killed me yet. This is why I like aging. 

* I was reluctant to introduce myself as a writer and as a small business owner. The writing in particular impacted me. Why have I not embraced my writerly identity? Especially when it is something I have always been/done/loved. One of the girls and I discussed this. She is an artist, a sculptor, and she owned it. I may have been (read, definitely was) intimidated by her ownership of her creativity. 

* I am definitely no good at judgements of others. I think this is because I live in a moment of fear/panic/terror when I meet people. We are, most of us, intimidated by the new. I definitely deem myself unworthy and unlovable. This is the narrative that leads and guides me in new situations. 

It is a naughty narrative because it is so untrue. It is the narrative that I think I was called here to challenge and rewrite. 

One of the girls yesterday said that when she saw me in the airport her desire was to run after me, but she didn’t. We sat at dinner last night. Just connected. I didn’t think we would. That’s because the narrative told me I wasn’t good enough. 

Stupid narrative. I am good enough. I am worthy. I am lovable. I am strong. I am compassionate. I am loving. I am me. 

And, that is enough. 

During the first meditation yesterday I was bombarded with images. Some were reminiscent of the Indian gods and I think a young Buddha appeared to me; I can still see his face. And then the words, self-loathing. 

If I am to be honest, this would be the title of my narrative. I would not ever have thought I loathed myself but there is definitely an unresolved childhood theme at play there. The lack of worthiness and lovability stems from it. 

The logical adult within me knows that it is irrational and entirely untrue. The wounded child does not. Time to heal her. 



One of the things that I really liked about Thirlmere once I arrived here was that there is a Yoga Space literally around the corner. I have not signed up for any yoga yet but the meditation was appealing. This afternoon I attended a Deep Healing Meditation workshop hosted by Alex from Angelic Space there. This will become a fortnightly arrangement on Saturday afternoon.

I have felt within my soul for a while now that teaching isn’t the only thing I will be doing in my life; definitely not the only thing I want to do this lifetime. Teaching is so stressful. It has significant rewards and I truly do love it but there is more. I long for a calm life. A life where I do not have to raise my voice, do not have to navigate politics and people’s egos, do not have to work exceptionally long hours sacrificing everything else. My ideal life would consist of some teaching, some writing, some meditation, some spiritual practice, lots of nature, my own business … yes. Ideal.

One of the activities that I had to complete when I was studying to become a certified meditation teacher and holistic counsellor was to describe our future intentions and ideal workspace. I described mine completely. I could see it. I could see the view from the windows. It is a beautiful space. Elegant, open, natural. Beautiful.

I saw it today during my meditation. I saw it and it was busy. I was standing behind a counter, dressed in a white loose tunic type outfit, hair in a loose bun, very serene and exceptionally happy, a hive of activity surrounding me. I was running a successful healing practice in the bush that I owned. I was very successful. It was very successful. I was very happy. Still teaching, but a different type of teaching. Bliss.

I saw my first step towards attaining this dream. And it starts in the here and now. I just have to trust and not worry that I don’t have an adult education qualification, or the space to run this idea. It is a writing workshop. A writing workshop that leads to healing. Writing to heal. Writing to progress. Writing to happiness. My first step.

There will be obstacles. My first classes will be small but word will spread, and so will my ideas.

My main obstacle to everything (as it is for most people) is fear. For part of the  meditation we see ourselves sitting and looking into a fire. My child self was looking in and my adult self was reflected back. My fear began in childhood. We all know why. I have written about it before … a lot lol. A powerful image though, in my mind, to see child Tina and adult Tina together. Neither upset. Both quite at peace.

My maternal grandparents visited, smiling; finally happy that I am acknowledging my true calling (they first appeared years ago in a reading that my now very good friend Jen gave to me; they were beckoning me to open up to the potential and possibility then, and that was four or five years ago). Natalie came and held my hand, she too was laughing. And she had brought with her my little girl. My little girl first appeared to me prior to my second last IVF cycle. She kept appearing and would chat away to me. A beautiful little blonde girl, looking similarly to my sister Sandra when she was a little girl. I was surrounded by love throughout my meditation.

And then the chakras. Colour and feeling with all except the chakra over my reproductive organs. All I could see there was blackness – it was barren. I am still processing the meanings here; they could be anything. Time will tell.

Amazing. And I think I have forgotten aspects of it. The card reading afterwards cemented all of what I deciphered during the meditation.

Trusting our intuition, our spirit, our guides, is one of the hardest things to do but one of the most vital if we are to live our true paths and answer our true callings throughout our lifetimes. I think my experiences in New York will consolidate today’s meditation. I am at least, trusting that. I am moving quickly now, and I am loving the ride.

Thank you Kay and Kylie for sharing my experience, and Alex for facilitating it.

❤ Love and light to all ❤

For Maddy, Casey and all those that feel like they are drowning sometimes …

In 2008 I hit rock bottom in my life. I had come close before, many many times throughout my life, as early as childhood. Life just seems too hard sometimes, and the desire to run away and start fresh where no one knows you seems like a dream come true.

In 2008 though, I didn’t want to just run way to where no one knew me, I wanted to be gone permanently. I wanted the pain to be gone. The feelings of hopelessness had taken me over and I wanted my life to be over. I was being ‘bullied’ at work, someone had stolen a lot of money from the club I was President for, I had lost a lot of friends the year before, I had made some really bad choices, and I had had enough.

I changed schools for six months and whilst I was there, I smiled every day and plotted my death every afternoon. I was self-harming (cutting) because the pain would literally be drowning me. I sorted out my affairs. I wrote a will. I organised a place for my cat to go, all under the guise of the hypothetical, as I wrestled with different ways I could die. Drowning myself, similarly to Virginia Woolf, just walking in to the ocean, came closest to winning.

The only thing that stopped me, and the only rational thought I was able to have at the time (upon reflection) was that someone would find my body and that would cause trauma in their life, and that wasn’t fair. I felt that that would be exceptionally selfish. Maybe part of it too was the shame I was feeling, that I wasn’t in control, I couldn’t fix myself, and I was incapable of reaching out.

It came to a head for me, one Sunday at soccer. I fell apart, literally (actually, not literally but you know what I mean) fell apart. All of the cumulated pain erupted from my soul and I collapsed. My friend Jo walked with me, for what seemed like hours.

And it forced me to face the inevitable.

I was alive. I wasn’t going to kill myself. And I needed to pull myself out of where I was. It was up to me. And it was my choice. All of it was my choice.

And I chose life.

I took one step at a time towards better mental health. But it was hard. And there were many relapses. And I still occasionally relapse. But never that far. I see the signs and I take action. I flirt with the idea these days but it is a fleeting flirt. Almost like a confirmation for myself that I chose life.

And I continue to choose life.

Every day.

The first 37 years of my life were hard. I was sexually abused as a child. I grew up in a dysfunctional and violent home. My mum was poor, struggling to make ends meet (a testament to her strength of character that we never went hungry), but also suffering from a marriage breakdown and what she perceived as betrayal. Dad was struggling with the changes that divorce brought: loss of family friends, less contact with his children, loneliness. Life was hard.

As an adult, leaving home when I was sixteen for a few months (thank you Cathy), and then going back just long enough to finish high school and leave home for university, I had a long healing path ahead of me. I had serious trust and commitment issues. I suffered intermittently from depression, anxiety and then bouts of mania (yep, diagnosing myself). Years of being really messed up but trying to appear normal and be normal (rarely succeeding but thank you to the Corrimal Street gang and my Wollongong friends for helping me through these times).

At times I succeeded and I had normal for periods of time, even superficially. And then, eventually I became better at life, until 2008. But I chose life.

I started a gratitude journal. I listed the things that I had to be grateful for each day. At least three, and sometimes they were a struggle, and sometimes for a few days in a row I repeated the same things. But in time, and a relatively short time in the scheme of things, I started adding more than three things to my list. And before I knew it I was looking at the world from a completely new perspective. I had acknowledged the bad in my life, over and over like a broken record, and now I started to acknowledge only the good. And my lists continued to grow because every day I was looking for the gratitude to write down that night.

And the day came when I woke up happy.

And I stayed that way.

For longer periods of time.

Then I added study. Reiki. Meditation. Bucket lists. Pets. IVF (ironically – my bouts of down in the last few years have resulted from that journey).

And these days, my downs last for very short periods, never longer than a couple of days.

Because I proved to myself once that I had the power to pull myself up from the mud. And that means I can do it again and again, every time I have to. And so, I don’t need to as much.

I became the lotus. And I choose a soft purple with pink in my petals.

You can become the lotus too.

It is your choice.

Even when it doesn’t feel like it.

And Maddy and Casey, I love you both unconditionally. And I wish for you that you see your worth, embrace your worth, and believe that you are loved because you are perfect just as you are, and it will all be okay.

Pain, like happiness, is temporary.

Dark, like light, is temporary.

Tears, like smiles, are temporary.

And it is all okay because we become stronger, more resilient, wiser, and ultimately, happier as a result of our pain. We learn nothing from success. Our failure teaches us everything.

If we want.

I love you.