The Kings (and cherubs)

Some times I just dont get it. And by it I mean life. I dont understand why some people have to face so many heartaches and so many challenges. I was reading Naomi’s blog the other day and noticed a few people talking about Lisa King, so I jumped over to her blog and was struck by the beautiful picture of her with her husband and her four kids on the beach. I used to work with families who had littlies with disabilities – Id help out during arsenic hour with cleaning and dinner and baths and books. It was probably the most useful two hours of my day. Having kids of my own makes me remember those little families even more because my kids are healthy and well and yet I still struggle some days.

Lisa lost her husband Aaron last week, four months after she lost her 10 year old son Noah. In the blink of an eye he was gone and she has been writing and I guess wrestling with the reality of that moment in time ever since. She takes beautiful photos and has been recording the time since Aaron died for both herself and her three boys. One of the images was of her holding her husbands hand during her last visit to the funeral home the day before the service. I wept as I read her thoughts and I wondered how after years of parenting kids together how she would curl up in bed at night without the warmth of her husband beside her.

Naomi put out a call to other people who read her blog as so many wanted to help but didnt know how…in the week of collecting, the figure has skyrocketed showing that the urge we all have to help is so strong.

I often wonder when stuff happens how is the best way to help, the money, the thoughts, the food…they all help in some ways but I guess that stirring inside us to cry tears for people we will never meet is the most amazing part because it shows that you dont have to live next door to create a sense of community – caring can be done from afar.

Jump over here if you want to donate but also send your thoughts – it could happen to anyone, but how sad that it had to happen to her, again.

From tutus to two babes….a TSIB interview

Well! I’m having a bit of a run of goodluck with lovely people offering to be interviewed by me for a TSIB interview.

This week, just like last week, we have a blogger talking about her space in between. I actually got in touch with Amy about her call out for guest posts and then in a generous twist she ended up saying yes to having a chat about the impending arrival of a new bub to join her little (and big) man.

Take a break and if, like Amy, you’re about ready to pop eat some snacks and put your feet up. Here she is…

Ames…tell me a bit about you

I’m a stay at home mum to lufflump, who is turning three this year, and ready to give birth to sesame hopefully around her due date in early March. I live in Brisbane with my boyfriend, the mister, who works in hospitality while applying for the air force.

You’re coming up to the end of your second pregnancy. I remember before having my second babe that I was fine until the home stretch when I suddenly remembered about the birth…how are you managing?

So far this pregnancy has been so different to my last breezy pregnancy where I often forgot I was actually pregnant. I can’t wait for it to be over but at the same time I’m petrified about having a newborn and a toddler around the house. The birth doesn’t really bother me as I know the feelings after birth so will be using that as motivation to get through it all nicely. All babies are so different but I’m hoping that sesame will be a happy baby like lufflump was, that’ll make it easier to manage two children.

What about that space between your son going from being an only child to a big brother. Are you sad about what that means in terms of you having to share yourself with another small person?

I’m sad as this was an(other) unexpected pregnancy, we wanted to wait until lufflump was in prep (two years away) until we had another baby. At the same time though I’m excited. He’s at the age where he is happy to help, can to an extent but still wants mummy time. I’m an only child so never had to experience my parents splitting their time with someone else which I think will make it difficult and scary for me to do with lufflump and sesame. Everything in life is a lesson though and I think the mister and I will work together to learn what works best for our family.

If you could go back in time and tell the childless you what you’d learnt from being a mum would would it be?

Sleep! Sleep is precious, do more of it. Take long, hot showers. Pamper yourself often. All those things taken for granted that are such luxuries now.

What are you looking forward to the most.

Meeting sesame, getting to know her, watching lufflump be a brother, having a newborn in the house and watching the mister’s heart melt again.

Thanks Amy….Amy has a lovely blog that you can visit here. I can remember when my little girl (who was almost 5 when her little brother arrived) became a big sister…she struggled for the first few months and would pretend that she couldnt remember what his name was. Once he got a bit more interesting, she became a bit more interested. A bit like life (or relationships!!) but it all worked out in the end.

Pop back and read some other interviews if you’ve got a few seconds!


The telling of stories

Ive been absent from the blogging roundabout for the last couple of weeks except for my post about pancakes. I began to worry that Id lost my capacity to sit and concentrate for longer than 12 seconds. Holidays with kids can do that – all I want to do is sleep, drink coffee, watch bad TV and hang by the pool…oh wait thats what Ive been doing!

I put it out to the twittersphere tonight that I was worried I had lost the will to blog and the lovely Marnie came straight back telling me to write about my lost words. And so thats what Im doing.

Im in the last stages of a book on my holiday reading pile that explores the trauma of peoples lives, fictionally. The story sounds incredibly familiar to me. I’m not sure if, as a social worker, Ive just been exposed to so many similarly horrific stories or if its been lifted from a real life story with just a bit of tweaking to make it non identifiable. Regardless of how it came about it makes me a little uncomfortable as it starts to cross that imaginary line between fiction and real life. Its isn’t escapism its stark realism.

In the early stages of my blog I latched on to some creative writing tasks to get my fingers moving. I guess I passed off these fictional attempts as just that – fiction – but to be honest most of them were true stories about me just crafted into small pieces that maybe someday could be glued together as the basis of a short book. A girl can dream.

In the telling of stories we share tiny bits of our soul. I have been able to share a lot of spaces with people as they tell me about parts of their lives – the intricate tapestries that brought them to where they are. Yesterday I felt that I had stepped back in time. I met with some people that I had knew from my working world many moons ago. People who by trauma or misadventure got to meet me and in turn I got to sit with them when they heard the worst news any person could ever hear. They shared their story with me and they continue to do so. It sounds ironic but I guess having this blog makes me wary of sharing of stories from your own vault because each time a little piece escapes so does the anonymity and the solitude that comes from working through it in peace, in your head.

Some days I feel that all I am is one big repository of stories but maybe instead of thinking of it as a hindrance maybe I’m just one big book with lots of real stuff to tell.

Im hoping that this year gives me more chances to tell more, to hear more and learn more and I wonder how many more faces, names and stories will continue to leave little reminders on my soul. Only time can tell.

Are you a story teller or a story keeper?

 

Harnessing the memory machine.

Every year my husband and I and the kids head here. Its an annual thing and its something that he has done every year since he was a kid too. I always remember Mia Freedman when she said that holidays with kids was really just moving the kids to another location without the usual props to entertain them. This year was no different, we almost had to leave a child behind with the amount of stuff we had crammed into the car.

Going to a place you went to as a child inevitably increases the stress to recreate the memories you had for your own offspring (or step-offspring). To visit the same holiday spots, the same twee amusement parks all with that rose-coloured glass nostalgia that makes you forget about vomiting after your first ride on the pirate ship or the sunburn that was so bad you had to shove cotton wool under the straps of your swimmers to relieve the pressure. I think its safe to say there is a space between the truth and what you really want the truth to look like.

On our way up the coast we stopped for the night at a place we’d been to for the last few years. The kids had scattered memories of it and most remembering revolved around the breakfast buffet and a dodgy pancake machine. I actually wrote this post in my head during that overnight stay – it was 313am and I was lying awake with a sniffing child to the right of me, a snoring husband to the left, an even smaller child in a port-a-cot directly next to the bed who was doing seal impersonations in his sleeping bag all night and two stepdaughters sleeping on the foldout lounge whispering louder than their actual voices are….its at this point that I wanted to yell ‘ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?’. But what stopped me from losing it was the need to harness the memory machine, to not sweat the small stuff so that in two decades time my son can turn to me, grateful for the memories we created, and say ‘remember that place we went to where we all slept together, ate pancakes and had a great time’.

And I’ll smile serenely and say ‘of course I do, that was the best holiday ever’.

How are your holidays going? Are we having fun yet?

cracks through to light…

I’d been following Kristian’s blog since I saw that snippet of his life on a big American TV show. I was impressed with his honesty , his integrity and his capacity to put into words what love meant for him.

It was with great sadness that I saw a little post on twitter the other night saying that he had slowly slipped away. I went back to his blog that I had been reading and was really struck by what a fast decline there had been in his condition – only a few short months ago he was talking about his hopes for the future but probably the most difficult post to read was how he was slowly answering his children’s questions. I kept wondering after I saw that little blip on twitter what his boys must be thinking and how they could slowly be sitting with that first layer of sadness hearing that their dad was now gone.

I did some creative writing prompts early on in my blog career (well September). This one played heavily on my mind when I read about answering stuff. It also played on my senses when I thought back to last week and the struggle I had in explaining how unfair life can be to my beautiful girl. I watched her struggle with the rawness of truth, the shitiness of how other people’s behaviours can impact the very core of you and how loss can be exaggerated at different times. Some of the year we happily skip about not noticing what is absent and then at certain times loss knocks at your day and you just cant turn it away. Difficult concepts to explain to little people.

I got an email from a research fellow this morning asking for some thoughts about how young people live with the loss of a missing person and I pointed out that there was so little (well nothing) written about it but that many moons ago when I had sat with some kids I did notice that no one should fear saying “I just don’t know’. It doesn’t provide the answers to any of life’s questions but it does give a response that is honest, respectful of the child’s need to know and the starter of a conversation that might lead to more uncovering of layers as time goes by. It provided an opening line to a very long dialogue.

Parenting in happy and sad times probably teaches me more about life, resilience and moving on than any book I could ever open.

Vale Kristian Anderson

 

Looking up

I wrote a few weeks back about the idea of first firsts…about the space between the life you’re living and the reminders of the past when we take a trip down ‘this time last year’.

For people living with life and sadness and loss the arrival of Christmas can surely shake the ho ho ho’s out of you. I know that I start to resemble the grinch when I see reindeer antlers on cars I secretly hope those little rudolph remnants get ripped off driving into a suburban shopping centre  (can you tell that Christmas isnt my most favourite holiday of the year)?

When I used to work directly with families living with unresolved losses Christmas was a tricky time – the setting of the table reminded people more of who wasn’t there rather than who was. The passing out of presents brought the reality home that the simple gift of giving couldnt be shared with that person. And for those that embraced spirituality the message that they were all part of a family was a little too distant for those who felt they had not much to hold on to.

We might talk about the rituals of loss but the rituals of life are often more closely linked with what is absent. Through the year the times we where are encouraged to sit and be with the ones we love automatically provides the flipside notion of who we dont have.

I didnt necessarily learn any new skills in managing the holiday season from the families I worked with. There werent any top 5 ways to get through the season but I did notice that the art of bunkering down and surviving it became the task that they all aspired to. We all often reflect that in the bracing for the day we hate that once it passes, it becomes a little like a giant life lesson band aid – once we rip it off we see the little scungy mark it left behind and then we try to focus on moving forward again.

Life is an interesting little mix of lessons and learning…for all those living with the first firsts I hope that the morning after gives you some space to breathe, to rip off that bandaid and to keep looking onwards and then  maybe upwards.

Hanging from the Chandeliers…another TSIB interview

A bit of a change of pace this week….I seem to have been in contact with a lot of women in the last few weeks who are contemplating what they do with their lives as their kids grow. Whether thats women emerging from the fog of small babies, women dealing with teenagers who don’t ‘need’ them as much as they used to or just people thinking how they can fit a new career into the mix.

As soon as you have kids you get a lot of chatter amongst groups about ways to fit in exercise when you have tiny babies. The mothers group I belong to (my second one…) has always been pretty proactive about finding ways to catch up without coffee and cake, a lot of us meet for walks, meet at parks or talk about the fun runs we enter (or fail at…oh hang on thats me).

Facebook is great for reconnecting with old buddies – last year I got a page suggestion from a school friend who was setting up her own business as a personal trainer and food coach – she makes me laugh with her hard line approach, the way she seems to balance her kids and her lack of tact in putting up with people’s excuses. Here she is chatting about her space in between…she married her Year 10 formal partner – I can still remember that night…chokers were in fashion and Boyz II men were the slow dance specialists…I chose a guy whose bow-tie matched his vest (little did I know I would remain inept at choosing good men until I was in my 30s…)

 

Lovely Maree…tell me a little about you?

Wow, this is harder than I thought ….. Usually I’m talking about my kids or my job and that’s quite easy. Have I lost me, is that weird that I can’t string a sentence or two together to tell you a little  about myself???  Do  I even exist anymore? Mmmmmm. Well I guess I do because that washing doesn’t get done on its own, neither does the cooking or the cleaning, so there you have it,  I am a person.

Me , Maree,  a 34 year old woman with 3 beautiful, hyperactive kids (and yes 2 out 3 have diagnosed ADHD so they are hyperactive,  the little one is too young to be diagnosed, however he is definitely showing signs of it) Georgia is 11, Kaylan is 9 and Kye is 4, he was my little surprise. I am married to Bennett, my best friend, my soul mate and someone I can be my silliest, craziest self around. We have been together since age 15, a long time I know, but when you’re friends before you’re lovers it seems effortless.

I worked in retail for many years and loved the challenge of getting the sale. The Body Shop was my last retail job and there I was trained as a makeup artist which led to my secret passion for makeup.

Tell me about being a young mum?

I started a family young (23) and was not really worried about anything but being with my babies. This led me to isolate myself a little, as my friends were all off travelling the world and having adventures, studying at uni or just out partying, I was at home content with my little girls. But after a while you need a little something for you! So I joined my local gym. I have always loved being active and playing sport and I thought this was a great way to do something I loved as well as something that was good for my body and mind. After 2 weeks of visiting the gym, I got a job there on the front desk, it was great, and I got to be me, Maree! I enjoyed being around other people who enjoyed being fit and healthy.

How did you choose to react when your girls were diagnosed with ADHD??

During that time I had another baby, a beautiful boy. Back to being mum it was for me. During this time was when both my girls were diagnosed with ADHD. It was a tough year. Going from doctor to doctor, all wanting to medicate them. I chose not to, but instead to change their diet, no colourings, preservatives and additives. I did loads of research and put it all in action, it worked! Not only were they on the food plan, the whole family was. Their behaviour improved and I lost weight. Was this how easy it was?  So I took on studying nutrition, fitness and personal training. I wanted to help other kids and families.

So what did you do with what you’d learnt?

I knew I was not able to work the hours I needed to still pick up and drop off my kids at school in a regular job, so I decided I would work for myself. I could choose my own hours and still be there for my kids.

So today a year and a half on, I am successfully running Health Me, a Food and Fitness Coaching business,  I have 3 crazy, loving kids that are no longer hanging from the chandeliers (well more like IKEA lightshades)

I have changed as a person because I no longer care about what other people think, maybe because my life is so chaotic (in a nice way) that I don’t have the time. I think as you grow older you do prioritise things a little differently. Dinner needs to be cooked before you can even think about when you last had a haircut? And I’m not saying that you should neglect these things however, you do master the art of making a pony tail look great, and your 5 minute make up job is not bad either.

Life is good, if only we took a moment each day to look at what we have achieved and celebrated it, even if it is a silent 3 cheers for me. Hipbip hooray x 3.

Thanks Maree…click here for more info about her

So what do you think…whats one of the ways you took a challange and turned it into an opportunity??

 

 

Being while being without

 

I was given the chance to write about the ways people living with an unresolved loss might be able to ‘reconnect’ with the people they had lost…the big challenge there was the ambiguous part of it all. I think a few people thought I was a bit odd writing about reconnecting with missing people, people who had vanished or people that had been murdered but we didnt know where the body was…in the writing and thinking process (well the copious coffee drinking process) I sat and spoke to a few people about their own experiences. One of the women told me that in order to reconnect with her brother (who had been missing for a long time) she wasnt going to go and sit on a park bench or stare out to the ocean like she thought she was supposed to. She was just going to take some time to remember the things he loved, that she’d find him in his CD’s, in thoughts of growing up, in the books he loved and that she find ways to be with him despite being without him.

A picnic is being held in Sydney today for people to reconnect with loved ones who have died…I was drawn to the beautiful picture in the paper of a silk installation blowing in the wind. The article shared the power of coming together in a community to reconnect but it also talked about those within certain cultures or faiths having access to rituals to help them acknowledge what was lost. It touched on the fact that for some without faith or socially constructed ways of grieving people might be  ‘on their own’…it reminded me of the families of missing people I’ve worked with who might find themselves, in some circumstances, without culture or faith as well as without the access to rituals even if they wanted them – no funerals, no death notices, no public proclaimations that they had lost someone. Sometimes the only reminder of what was lost was an image on a ‘missing’ poster.

The idea of a picnic to introduce the dead back into the community is a way to provide ritual where ritual might be lost…but also a reminder that for those whose losses arent so clear cut – missing, miscarriage, illness, divorce – that we give everyone the space to say hello again* to a person, or connection, that is so sorely missed.

How do you say hello…again?

*Michael White, 2005

Controlling the uncontrollable

Yes I know thats an oxymoron…

I read a lot of blogs and articles about weight loss and being the best you can be (in a non Oprah sense)…its just a topic thats interests me – places like Sarah Wilson, Diminishing Lucy and even the WW FB page let me dip my toe into the world of food where the world of food makes you feel and look better.

When working with people experiencing sudden and traumatic life changes, or even trauma’s thats creep up over a period of time, its fair to say that whatever brochures or pamphlets may to be thrust into hands in those moments will have a looking after yourself  list attached. A few centuries ago when I was working as a social worker I scoffed at the inclusion of eating healthily on these lists. I kept thinking that people had enough on their plate without some bleeding heart telling them what to eat and what to do with their ‘me’ time. I just thought it was about surviving anyway you knew how (and if that meant scoffing chocolate secretly in the pantry then so be it).

But then a few years back I joined WW – it was scary and confronting and exhilarating all at the same time. I found that in the midst of my uncontrollable life controlling what I put in my mouth made me feel strong and powerful and in return I had the added bonus of feeling better – I slept better, I felt more comfortable in my own skin and I actually stopped and looked at myself rather than slinking away from the puffy reflection that had greeted me for a fair few years before that.

Part of getting older, being exposed to people’s intimate life experiences and actually feeling good about me made me rethink those scoffing moments when I read or write self help literature for people suffering a loss. Thinking about what you eat is just an extension of looking after yourself and in the midst of chaos and trauma maybe thats the one thing that can be controlled.

Can food one of the controllable parts of our life…what are some of the others?

Older than my older sister…a TSIB interview

This blog is working just as I had imagined in the dark recesses of my brain (and thats a pretty odd place for most of each week) its creating opportunities for people to come forward and share their own space in between. This year has been a time of reflection for me, Ive been able to sit with friends facing so much sadness and then spend my spare time studying the exact same things. I feel like Im a vessel for the stories that fill my time and I want to share them.

So sit back, grab a cuppa and read about Alicia..she bravely puts words to the space between hope and despair and she takes great pics of lovely things. If you don’t believe me click here…

Alicia tell me a little about you…

I am 31 years old, I live in Cairns, Far North Queensland the town that has been called “home” for my entire life. My husband Jamie and I are proud parents of 2 beautiful, energetic children, Kiara who is 5 and Noah who is 2. The words often heard around out house is “life is Never Dull”, and it sure isn’t. We are constantly kept on our toes, stressed out, entertained, delighted, or rushed by some event happening, though more often then not it may be some self inflicted accident Jamie has had around the house!

Jamie and I met when I was still a teenager, our relationship, like many others has been filled with many ups and downs, laughter, joy, tears, but it has all been worth it. We married in a simple ceremony at a local beach 7 years ago, there was many people who didnt want us to get married, or thought that we wouldnt last, and we have proven them wrong so far.

I have had many different jobs over the years. On leaving school, I went straight into working in the childcare industry, which is the one job I have the most experience in over the years (although many years of child care couldnt even prepare me for what motherhood is all about!). I have held a variety of other jobs. I am currently working part time in my husbands family business, Jamie is the manager. I am actually having a lot of fun working with my husband, more then I expected. At this  point in our life, this position fits our family well.

I feel blessed to be living in one of the most beautiful parts of the world, I love the beaches, rainforest, cane fields etc that make North Queensland so beautiful, we are lucky to be living in a place that so many people love to visit. I love raising my children here, and feel there is a sense of freedom of running around barefoot, at one with nature. Though I have to be honest in saying that the summers still get to me at times, the heat makes me tired and cranky!

Photography is a real passion of mine, I still have a lot to learn, but I do enjoy taking photographs, and the creativity it releases, and the memories it captures.  I have afacebook page, in which I take a photograph of something I am grateful for each day for a year.

When thinking about your space in between what stood out for you?

I think that there are so many spaces in between in each of our lives. I tried to list all mine down, and the list was huge, so I will just focus on one.

The space between hope and despair..my sister was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 12, our family relocated briefly to Adelaide for Tamina to be operated on and treated, it was scary watching her in so much pain, witnessing her hair fall out, and
being only 8 at the time, I briefly thought that her cancer was contagious.

It was a long tough fight, but before we knew it, we were hosting an end of treatment party for her, and celebrating the hurdles she had overcome.  Fast forward 10 years, and as a young Mum to a toddler, Tamina sadly relapsed. The cancer this time was throughout her body. After months of treatment, the Doctors said there was nothing more they could do but send her home to be comfortable.

While I knew that she was sick, I still held onto hope that she would overcome this battle as well, and was wondering how we would celebrate this time. Sadly this wasnt to be, and in April 1999, at the age of 22, my beautiful big sister passed away.

I can’t even think of words to describe the feelings, thoughts and emotions that I felt in that time. I was very close to my sister, we often joked that we would be found on the verandah of a nursing home in years to come, rocking chairs side by side, as we
chatted about life.

Some people, would comment “at least her death wasnt a shock, unlike those who lose their loved ones in accidents“, but I had to disagree. In looking back on photographs now, I am shocked by the frail, 30kg body, but at the time, all I could see was the spark that she always had in her eyes. In hindsight, I realise that she was terribly ill, but at the time, I held onto every inch of hope I could find, that she would be ok.

There was so much guilt in Taminas death, guilt that we were created by the same parents, raised in the same house, on the same food, yet she was the one who got cancer. I especially felt guilty as I attempted to clear her airways  on the night of her death, as instructed by the paramedics as we waited for the ambulance to arrive. I
held so much guilt over the years that I had not tried hard enough, or that there was something I could have done differently to save her life. The Ambulance took Mum with them as they took Tamina away to the hospital, with their words faint heart beat in my head. I followed behind, my heart filled to the brim with hope that she would be ok. I arrived at the hospital, told them I was there to see my sister Tamina, expecting to be directed to a hospital bed, instead I was directed to the social workers room, where my Mum was waiting, tears streaming down her face, and the 2 words that took away any hope I had….she’s dead.

I felt guilty that she would never get to see her beautiful daughter, Jazmine grow up, or that Jazmine would never get to know her Mum, yet here I was, with no children at the time relying on me.

For a long time after that, life was a dim, dark, place. Losing a loved one is not something you ever get over, it is just that you eventually find a day that you can utter their name without bursting into tears. The tears still come, sometimes unexpected, sometimes without warning, but thankfully less frequently. The ache for the person you have lost, the wish that they were still there to walk life’s pathway with you is still there.

Many moments in my life bring up the pain of my sisters passing. The day I turned 23 was the worst birthday in my life, suddenly I was older than my older sister, something I found very hard to deal with, and a issue that is still rather huge in my life to this day.

I hate that my sister never got to meet my husband, that I have photographs around the house of a woman that was so significant in my life, yet no one in my house apart from me has met. I talk about Aunty Tamina to my kids often, and want them to know what a wonderful, inspiring person she was, but that is just not the same as getting to
meet her.

At the time Tamina passed away, I was working at a Child Care Centre only minutes away from the cemetary she was burried in. I would often go to her gravesite and sit beside it, while I ate my lunch, and had a silent chat to her, tears streaming down my face as the many cars drove by. I look back on those times and feel a bit crazy, but at the time, I needed to feel like I still had some sort of contact with her.

The best way to describe that moment between hope and despair is that it only took a second for the hope evaporate, and the despair of not only losing my sister, but the woman I considered my best friend to take over, and in a way, that despair still lives with me. Thankfully not as suffocating or overbearing as it was to begin with, but its there, in the depths of my soul, and I will continue to miss her every day.

Losing my sister forced me to also change my way of thinking, my views on life and death, and to realise that life is just too precious, and too short. While the despair lingered on for a long time, I found things to give me hope as well, things to look forward to, the biggest being a backpacking trip around Europe, which I did just before I turned 22, the age Tamina was when she died. I decided life was just too short to keep saying “one day”, and I had always wanted to travel, so I jumped in head first, and went on an adventure, I made sure that the inspiration of Tamina and what she brought to my life lived on.

I have also been fortunate enough to witness Taminas daughter, Jazmine grow from the toddler she was when her Mum passed away, into a beautiful young lady of 14 that she is today. There is hope when I get to look at her and see a piece of Tamina continues to live on in her.

What prompted you to start your gratitude project?

I was in a pretty negative mind set, there was no huge reason to be in that position, but the aspects of every day life all mounted up, the worry of finances, working a night job at the time and constantly being exhausted, as well as health problems, I was becoming a bit of a poor me person, and I really didn’t like the way I was heading. I would listen to myself on a daily basis bitching and moaning about so many things, and would silently tell myself to just shut up, I was aware that many people had it worse off then me, but I just didn’t seem to change the vicious cycle.

I accidentally came across the idea of a 365 gratitude project one night when searching the internet for something completly different. Something inside me just clicked, and I knew that this was a project that I just needed to do, it ticked all the boxes, a tool to assist me to become more positive as well as an excuse to take more photographs!

The project was set up on its own facebook page as I didn’t want to annoy my personal friends by posting picture every day on my page. I thought by giving them the choice to view my gratitude project or not would be a good idea. I never expected strangers to show any interest, or the love and support I have recieved from doing it.

Do you think that being mindful is a way that we can a manage life with its up’s and down’s?

Most definately! As a friend said to me today “negativity breeds negativity” and that works the other way too “positivity breeds positivity”, you change your way of thinking and you change your way of living. It is so easy to let your thoughts dig you into a big huge pit of despair, but with little steps, you can dig yourself back out again.

On saying that, of course it’s ok to have a bad day and tough moments, and acknowledge them, without having those challenges in life, we won’t always be thankful for the great moments. The most important thing is knowing when to let go of the negative moments. It is important to be mindful of your feelings and emotions, not to stuff them inside until
they explode out.

It is however also important to not let yourself be suffocated by all the negative thoughts and feelings that you may have, it will only spiral into a huge mass of negativity, and before you know it, you will be looking at everything with a negative point of view, and only seeing the bad in life, when in fact there is so much good.

Sometimes you just need to trust yourself, tune into your own needs, perhaps that means you need time out to yourself, or a friend to just listen to you talk about what is going on in your life, or the simple words from someone “I am here if you need me”.

What have you learnt in sharing your gratitude? What have others taught you?

I have completly changed my way of thinking, I look back on my project so far and am so thankful for all the wonderful people, gifts and moments in my life.  I have also realised that regardless of how bad a day may seem, there is always at least something to be grateful for. On an absolute shitty day, having a roof over my head, food in my belly and air in my lungs is more then enough to be grateful for. Life really has many wonderful joys laying out for each and every one of us.

Through my page, I have met some wonderful people, have been inspired by so many beautiful stories as well. I have also been forced to look at the people in my life with fresh new eyes, I knew I was blessed to be surrounded by a great gang of people, but I never really stopped to think what a wonderful support team I have, and what great moments they all bring into my life. I am blessed to have friends who are more like family. Without sounding cliche, you can have a load of tough things going on in life, but if you have at least one friend to listen to you, or support you, then it is all going to be ok.

 

Thanks Alicia…so often we forget to give ourselves the chance to hear the story behind the story. Talking about your sister, honouring her memory and taking the time to reconnect with her is a brave way to acknowledge your loss. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

What resonates most with you about Alicia’s story? For me it makes me grateful for my bond with my sister, she makes up half of me and I’d be lost without her….