Thanks for the Lessons

While some people open up easier than others, I truly believe that if you give people a chance they’re probably going to teach you something – or at least confirm something that you only “sorta kinda” knew, but perhaps need to more deeply engrain in your psyche…

For this week’s musings, I’m going to get a bit nostalgic with y’all and share some of my favourite lessons from a few of the interesting people who have kindly shared a little piece of themselves with me. Continue reading

A Victim’s Logo

“Of all the parts of your body, be most vigilant over your index finger, for it is blame-thirsty. A pointed finger is a victim’s logo… No matter how abominable your condition may be, try not blame anything or anybody: history, the state, superiors, race, parents, the phase of the moon, childhood, toilet training, etc… The moment that you blame somewhere, you undermine your resolve to change anything.” – Joseph Brodsky. Continue reading

The Paradox of Our Time (Meh).

“Have we all become so isolated, so lacking in social connection, so busy staring into our devices, that we’re forced into a relationship with a disembodied algorithm? Is that humanity’s final chapter?”

These are some of the questions posed in a recent SMH column, by a writer I’m quite fond of (although don’t know personally). But I don’t agree with everything he says, and on this particular matter my thoughts are, “Who the heck cares?” Here’s a unique and controversial idea – what if we just take care of our own business? Continue reading

An Ordinary Day

“Jack Pines are not lumber trees and they won’t win many beauty contests either. But to me this valiant old tree, solitary on its own rocky point, is as beautiful as a living thing can be. In the calligraphy of its shape against the sky is written strength of character and perseverance, survival of wind, drought, cold, heat, disease… In its silence it speaks of wholeness, an integrity that comes from being what you are.” – Douglas Wood. Continue reading

Self-Love: It’s a Rort.

“We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended,” wrote Jack Kerouac in a letter to his first wife, found in The Portable Jack Kerouac. Continue reading

7 Thoughts for the Day

1. We can hold an instant in time in our hands with a photograph, and we can hold hours of time in our hands with a DVD. How fuckin’ weird is that?

2. The planets are moving further apart from each other at an increasing rate as space expands. If it’s just the continuation of the big bang, why is it speeding up not slowing down? Scientists don’t know and I think that’s COOL.

3. Because of space we carve objects into separate identities and give things their own names and attributes. Yet we ignore space most of the time when without it, there would be nothing to name. Poor ol’ space. Continue reading

Oops… I forgot I Was Ordinary

It all started as a single thought. Doesn’t it always start that way?

I’d been feeling pretty good for quite a long time, but after the horrific bombing in Manchester, other world events and the way the media gobbled it all up excitedly, it was easy to let negative thoughts seep in. It’s life, it happens. But instead of greeting these emotions and moving them along, I invited them in for a cuppa. Continue reading

Letters to My Ex: What’s in It for Me?

The vast majority of the writers I have contacted about the Letters to My Ex anthology have embraced the concept right away: it’s about women and connection. The letters are written to an unnamed, often male recipient, but it’s not about men at all.

A friend recently suggested it might be best to spell out the ‘what’s in it for me’ factor. Since I’ve had a few people write to me asking about payment (there’s no payment), I’m going to address this perfectly reasonable question. Continue reading

Why I Hate Being Nice: Eckhart-Fucking-Tolle, Clementine Ford & The Fat Stinkin’ Elephant in the Room

I cringe when I look back on any writing I’ve done where I talk about being fairly content in life, “Mostly happy, more centred than ever.” I don’t cringe because it’s a lie. I cringe because it paints only a partial truth – I am MOSTLY happy. You must not forget the MOSTLY. It was a fucking long road to get to MOSTLY from RARELY. Why am I yelling? Continue reading