Almost Self Pity

I can tell you right now that this blog was going to be a whole lot different. There was going to be a strong flavour of self loathing, a hint of dismay and hopelessness with overtones of both disgust and dismay.

Funny how talking to someone, even as uncomfortable and almost stingily painful it can feel, can change everything. Even the tone of a simple story such as this.

Forever I have been trying to lost weight, probably since I was 15. On one occasion I was extremely successful and lost 20kg. I didn't know at the time that it was a grief stricken response to the events at my life. But even when I got to 58 kg (and with my work colleagues and family worried) I was still finding fault. I still wasn't perfect.

So this morning, like many before it, I woke in dismay. I hated my body. I hated my self sabotaging ways that destroy my efforts. I hated my lack of discipline. (Editors note: that passage was actually written in the present tense, but it was changed as I know that an attitude like that is not going to help me one iota).

There were some simply truths lurking beneath that self-pity but it took a short but painful talk with Liam for them to come to the surface. They were not conclusions that we had come to together. They were small, simple, clear thoughts that were able to come through after I dumped a little of the baggage that I carry.

Things in life appear rarely simple but in every sense in they are simple. And some of the most simple concepts turned out to be a bit more complicated that first thought. But in the end they are simple - it is changing ourselves that is the complicated part.

So simply, I have never really committed to the cause. By George, I have lusted for it, wept about it, obsessed and dreamed about it. But I have never made the commitment to make it happen. Problem number one.

Which flows like a river into problem number 2 - no commitment makes discipline very difficult. Exercise and healthy eating is the most simple and effective way to maintain health and fitness - and remove excess weight. But it requires determination to overcoming the programming in our heads that a healthy lifestyle is hard. Problem number 2.

And this flows onto emotional responses of pity, self loathing, despair, anger etc - all self serving but self defeating emotions because results are not as forthcoming as I outright demand they be (another perception issue that is not helping the cause). And with those emotions, for me, come self defeating conduct like emotional eating and drinking - the anti-christ of weight loss.

And so the cycle continues...

But the most shiny outcome of my discussion with Liam was that I need some help; and acknowledging that there is nothing wrong in seek help out. Discipline, motivation and commitment are bolstered by encouragement.

So like Richard Branson said "Screw it, just do it".

Dear Mr/Mrs/Master/Dr/Prof/Capt etc Rain

My dear sweet fiancee asked me to do whatever makes me happy and not to focus so much on making him happy. To get the ball rolling, Liam asked that I wrote something to the rain.

"Can it be about the rain?"

"No, it must be to the rain"

"What if I don't fell like writing to the rain?"

"You must write it to the rain"

"What if I don't feel like writing at all? What if I would prefer to do an extended yoga session and that would make me happy"

"For me, can you please write something to the rain"

So essentially what my darling fiance was asking me not focus on him but myself and to do so I should write something at his request on the subject of his choosing...

Don't worry, I brought the contradict of his request to his attention and I was already feeling decidedly shifty as we were in bed, I was tired and my sinus felt like it was blocked with cheese.

But that little seed settled in my brain that night; throughout the day and wouldn't you know it - he was right. Making yourself happy simply equates to looking after yourself and enjoying the moment while you do it - if you can.

So I got myself ready for work rather than racing around like a mother with seven children. I was able to take the time to straighten my hair the way I like, do some yoga and generally ease in to the morning. And to reward my efforts, I was made scrambled eggs with wilted spinach atop soy and linseed bread - yum!

The funny thing I realised (besides that fact that the day I decided to take the time to straighten my hair properly, I get caught in the rain) was that I had raced around making breakfast, making Liam's lunch etc because I ignorantly thought that he could not do it without me.

But lo and behold, not only was he up showered and dressed, he had made an amazing breakfast for me. It shows that not only do I need to take more time for myself but I also need to give the man a little credit. Liam functioned quite well before I came on the scene and while it's nice to have someone look after you, it doesn't remove that fact he is a fully functioning adult.

So today, I did what made myself happy - without beating myself up for the things I should be doing. And you guessed it again - Liam was right (yes I know that it must be amazing for male readers out there to hear a woman not only say that her man was right, but to say it multiple times) - there is and needs to be a balance.

Instead of kicking myself for not going to spin class because I had urgent submissions to write, I didn't care. After work, I worked out for 2 hours at the gym doing weights and body balance. Yet because I let it go, it came back to me - my cardio this evening was getting home at 8.30pm, realising that Liam had my car and that the shops closed at 9pm. So I ran to the shops and made it there and did my shopping with plenty of time to spare.

Balance, it's a curious thing, it is not something that can be controlled by strict regime but also must be controlled in a sense that you must consciously choose what it right in any given moment of time. And it is not your mind that will tell you - its your body. If you feel peaceful about a decision rather than angst or any intense emotion really, you are on the right track. Like when you eat something really healthy which you enjoy and your body says "My god, I love you, I needed that sooooooooooooo much"

And by the way, had the most amazing shower after my gym, my run and my walk home laden with groceries. I did something that I never do - I just had a shower. I wasn't planning the next five minutes or thinking about all the things that needed to be done in the future or what I had failed to do the past. I just had a shower; and it was great

So, dear Mr/Mrs/Master/Dr/Prof etc Rain, thank you for your attention and allowing me to write about a concept which you are most likely not only aware but are in a constant state of.

All my Love and Best Wishes

Tahnee

Forgiven Not Forgotten

There is a cold emptiness that can only be found in honesty. Sure it is better that the burning house of fearing and loathing when a secret is harboured and kept from the light.

But the duality of honesty is a burden beared for the privilege of a having a free heart liberated by truth.

On one side there is the naked back ready to take the lashes administered at will, knowing that each is payment for the wrong that you have done. The other side is the pure unknowing of when your penitence will end. And all of this is wrapped up in the knowledge that despite the pain and uncertainty, you must endure it for the pain that you have caused is greater than you can imagine.

So you wait...

The other option is to forfeit your love and leave, cowering away from your obligations to do what is right. But this is not something I cannot do nor would I suggest.

So again I wait...

The lashes I can take and accept with humility, affirming that they are justified in their administration. But it is the lost of trust that feels like it kicks me in the stomach every time. Will each lash bring me a step closer? Will each bout of silent anger; brooding; give me another brick to rebuild the house of trust in which we once lived? Or (which is my greatest fear) is what I have done so unforgivable that trust will not be something that I am afforded again? Then is love not a union but a prison where it is lesser of two evils to bearing the pain of betrayal then to bear the pain of walking away?

Either way, this is not a decision that I have any control over. I just pray with all my heart that whatever is right and healing will happening, even if it means me losing it all.

And so, again, I wait.

Wait for it... I am planning a perfect constructed title

Maybe I could write lists. Maybe I could write drafts of things rather than thoughts spewed out onto a page. Maybe I could plan things. That looks like a wonderful thing – planning. I was wrote it off as something that boring people do. Things that are done by people that lack spontaneity; spunk. But I look at my partner, with sheets of notes, sitting in front of a computer finally starting to compose thoughts into a finer form, concepts having come from a place where thoughts were incubated first. And it occurred to me that maybe planning or being able to plan could be something wonderful.

Just imagine what could happen if you actually planned something. You might actually have the sunscreen you need when you got to the beach, rather than having to buy it later. You may actually have all the underwear that you require for extended periods that you are away from your dresser draw. Maybe just maybe, you would have could have a moment of solitude two to three steps into a journey and breathe easy because you have everything that you need to take the next step... and the one that follows that.

But also there is that something amazing like a tender yet firm succession of kisses that come out of the blue when you are in the midst of planning something. I guess that there is a balance to it all. It is the “something” in the solitude; the nurtured comfort of having at least thought of what you may need to allows the simple pleasure of enjoying the moments were serendipity brings something beautiful to your life.

I think that I have spent too much time not thinking ahead that I spend so much time thinking all the time. What’s happening now, what do I need to do next, have I done everything I need to do now, what do I need to do to fix the things that I have missed by flying at the seat of my pants?
It is a travesty when I am sharing a kiss with my love that my mind still continues to spin – what am I doing after this? Do I have everything for dinner? Do I need to go to shops? It’s not like I am not enjoying what I am doing in the moment that I need to keep my mind busy. It’s the pure fact that I never slow my mind enough to ask simple questions of preparation which could ease the machine gun fire of reactive thinking.

So... I have decided to think slowly and let’s see where that takes me – I think probably to a place of less stress.
And that could be something wonderful.

Fish or Fancy?

Sometimes there are weird relevations that we have... a recent one of mine was when I was making a salami and fetta quiche... and watching our fish, bummpy.

I remember the first time I met bummpy. She was timid and shy, hiding in a rock cave adnorned with flowing and ebbing sheeves of moss. She wouldn't come out to say hello, she won't respond to my advances. But she was there and so was I...

And she was a creature in the care of the man that I would come to love and I too craved his attention.

Bumpy soon started to come out of her cave.. and attack the glass where I was. Being a territorial fish, it appeared that I was invading her space - her tank and the area surronding the man who cared for her. Maybe she was right, but at the time I just wanted to win her over

But as time went on, the attacks lessened and soon Bummpy was coming to the glass at the sound of my voice. She would dance with me as I grooved in front of her tank, she would dart around in excitment when I sang to her.

The realisation that occured to me was not what it took to win over a fish. Like any animal or even plant on this planet, love will win over anything, given time. What I realised was the motivation.

I looked at Bummpy vying for my attention as I was cooking away and realised that I have had little time for her lately. Sure I feed her, but Liam does that most of the time. I say hello at least once every day, or every two days, but spend less than 30 second with her.

What I realised that I was seeking to secure the love of the man that I was growing to love, and through a creature in its care that has his love. And now that I no longer need to seek the "master's" love, did my love wither for Bummpy without the need? And if so, what type of person does that make me?

Sure you are thinking - it is a fish. But Liam also has a son. And now I love Jakob like my own and certainly wish that he was with me more often. But was the intial motive unpure? That maybe subconsciously I thought that the love of the son would be followed by the father?

Honestly, I know it was probably not that severe, but I knew when I sat in my car for 30 minutes before be able to drive and meet Jakob for the first time that I knew that if he hated me, there was no future.

What I know know is that I love Jakob, with no reservations, with an aching longing that is ever hampered by unnecessary and hurtful remarks but someone that will remained unmentioned...yet seeks my introduction

Luckily for me, Liam loved me from the movement I met him, and before I was able to face the fact that I was able to love again. But it makes you think sometimes - what is the motivations for the way that I act and are the affections I seek always from the person that I seek them from... or to secure the love/affection/praise/attention of another.

Sort of update...or something

Well this blog has been about the things that I have achieved that are on my list. Well, I am still striving to kick the list and new things are coming to the fore that my make new list items achievable, they are still in the making and I will keep you posted

But something I never accounted for has happen-the most amazing, beautiful man has asked me to marry him! And the greatest thing that I can report is that we have just secured our wedding venue... And date!!!!

So peeps, keep 23 September 2012 free cause I am marrying the man of my dreams!

Look out for an invitation in the post...

Searching for God

What is God? Well rather than trying to grapple with that question, let’s start with what is a relationship with God? I mean, from what I understand, he gets me, knows how I work and knows how to communicate with me, but how do I reciprocate all of this?

The question of God I am pretty comfortable with. I know that it was not pure whimsy and luck created, well everything that surrounds me, including my body. It's no coincidence that human were created and are fantastical, amazingly complex creations, the extent of which we do not understand ourselves - either on a collective level and , much less on a personal one.

It is no coincidence that where this fantastical creature has life it has all the trimmings to make that life possible – The Earth; a complex combination of elemental gases of exact and correct proportions that enable us to breathe; the seemingly effortless competition of forces that enable us to stand fixed to the ground yet allow our planet to spin on itself and make elliptical travel that enable not only light and day but the passing of time and years.

And oxygen. One can only marvel at the pure ingenuity of oxygen. Without we cannot have life; but with each breath, oxygen is our mortality. It causes age and the decomposition of cells yet we need it to live. We may die of a multitude of factors, many environmental and of our own making. But oxygen - like God I guess, is the beginning and the end. Also, if you increased the levels of oxygen in the atmosphere and struck a match we would be obliterated - also in the image of God's power - but that is another topic completely, and in the grand scheme of it all, really misses the point.

So - what is a relationship with God? My relationship with is always going to be different I would suppose and coming into my late twenties, it seems odd to be asking these questions now. But like I said to my father only on the weekend, when we had all taken a few mouthfuls of food before I realised that we had not said grace, "It is never too late".

I'd like to say that I am extremely different and that this is why my connection with God, well mostly his Son, which is him at the same time... (you can see I am still somewhat confused how it all works and that I am comfortable and uncomfortable with him all at the same time) the truth is that I am no different from anyone else in that we all face challenges both physical, theological and emotional on this journey. What makes me different is my story.

I am the child of mixed cultural and religious background, both parents of which have lost faith in organised religion however remain true to the spiritual nature of this life. My mother is a Catholic and my father a Methodist. With their secured faith in something greater and disenchantment with "religion" I was baptised at the Wayside Chapel in King Cross, Sydney, and home of the Late, great and honourable Ted Knofts as a “Child of all religions.”

By way of background, the Wayside Chapel and the love of "Father Ted" was an issue of public divide when his church became the first church used as a "shoot up chapel" - a meth clinic or sort I believe for rehabilitating drug users. Ted had a lot of love and there was a lot of need, especially in King Cross, so these merged in Ted’s efforts to save lost souls. So this was the birth place of my religious journey - I guess as unique as I am. On reflection on my character, my mother, father and God knew better than to force God upon me when I would be better finding it all out for myself.

In primary school, we had religious education which went for approximately 1 hour once a week. I don't believe that you had to go but it was better than spending an hour by yourself. And being the inquisitive and somewhat bold (Bold by name, bold by nature) little creature that I am, I had some questions that had puzzled me in the whole Creation tale and thought this was the best place to have these answered. WRONG. So very, very wrong I was.

I was 5, maybe 6 years old when I attended a Combined Christian class which was run but an old woman whom I liken to the flying nun without the hat and not nearly as fun. She was telling us about God and the creation of the world and I had a few questions. The last question I came to ask, without malice of the intent to start an uprising of all the 5 year olds in the room against religious education was "So if God made everything, who made God?" I thought this was a valid question considering the magnitude of everything that I was trying to digested.

Instead the unfun flying nun flew into a fevered yet controlled rage where she cried "You insolent child! Go outside!" So sitting outside, swinging my little legs beneath the bench as they weren't even long enough to touch the ground, I remember thinking "This sucks, I am not going back to that anytime soon" and waited for the bell to ring to release my from my punishment go back into my classroom.

Next religious education lesson, I went to the Catholic class for reasons I would assume as obvious. And I loved it there. We would colour in and play games and if there were stories about Jesus and God, which I am sure there were, I don't really remember them being told. We were certainly never sat down, told to pay strict attention while verses of the Bible were read. And maybe this was because, with all of my 5 years of age and boldness, I addressed my Catholic teacher when I first arrived and stated that I am not anything, I am not a catholic, I am here to find out more information. In turn she showed me a calm and gentle passage through the beginning of my religious investigations with firm respect. I remember that she would say at the end of every class "goodbye my little Catholics, except for Tahnee who isn't sure yet" with a big warm smile. She was probably one of the best introductions to God I have probably encountered now I think about it.

But Catholicism was never to stick, as my mother had fierce suspicion and distrust for Catholics, despite being one. She had some terrible experiences during her youth and lost faith in the church. I too developed mistrust for religions built on the foundations of Christ as I grew older, especially considering the atrocities that had been done in his name. Also, baptised in as a child of all religions, I felt it was birth right and destiny to seek out all different religions rather confirm to belief that seemed stifling and contrived because it was the dominant faith of my peers.

So I had forays in a world of different religions - Paganism, Buddhism, Hinduism, the greater teachings of Yoga and the like. I read some of the Bile and a tiny section of the Koran, but in reading these texts I had fairly fierce prejudice, but I guess a young mind influenced popular culture can do that. I always found something, but never something complete. I was happy to take what I could piece by piece and form a sort of collective personal ideology. But in saying this, I also when through a significant period of self loathing and harm for which there was little light at the time to see any truth.

And over time, and over adversity and through a number of profound parables that were secular in design so not as to alert my inner workings to the writer’s possible desire to “convert me to their religion.” I grew. A lot.

When I grew the most was when everything I knew was taken away from when. I felt like I had been stripped down to my bones and everything that I had known, taken comfort in and had been the spectacles in which I viewed my future was torn from me in an instant. I mourned, I hallowed with grief for an answer, I fought, I sedated myself, and I punished myself, I tried everything. With the love of my parents and their firm but guiding hands, I made it through.

In the first stage of recovery when immense and searing pain had past and the desolate numbness of self had faded, I knew that God had taken all these things from me because they were killing me. Everything last thing that I had lost was killing my spirit, the dreams, ambition, self worth, everything, and yet I was unrelenting in my commitment to it. After 5 years, God said “No” and in dramatic fashion cast me down to the pits of despair so that the real making of Tahnee could begin.

Of course, the years that followed were a battle and I fought through to achieve the dreams that I had wanted. Of course, I faltered and slipped back into easy but destructive behaviours because I was sick of the road being so hard. I continue to keep pushing on and I enjoy a plentiful and bountiful life full of love. But like everyone else, I still get sometimes get sick of the endless challenges to be faced and forget to see the beauty. The beauty of the world; the beauty that I am lucky to have in my life; and the humility to accept with honour that I am faced with these challenges because it is believed that I have the ability to overcome each and every one.

After a long journey down many varied and often conflicting paths I know that my calling is love. Again, love by name and love by nature. I feel the best when I am giving love. I don't really feel anything I guess, kind of warm, but it’s the absence of feelings that I recognise. No fear, no loathing, no need for self punishing, doubt - all the range of negative emotions. When I love they are not there, I just feel, well right. I have completely changed as a person, for the better, and my life has been amazing for the change.

So, now here I am again, in the same position as the 5 year old, swinging her legs to and fro waiting to be let back in, asking "What is a relationship with God?” I know that it will be different because my journey has been different. I know that I cannot accept blindly what others may be able to. But my first breakthrough I guess is that I no longer feel bad about that.

A relationship with God, like a relationship with anything else, must grow. It grows on terms that each are comfortable with and those terms and boundaries will change over time as the relationship dictates. It is not dependent on how others interact in their relationship with the same person, because not only are the dynamics of each person and each story different, the dynamics of the union of both in a relationship is also different. And most likely through our talks and walks through our world together, I will get to know his Son and have faith of heart above faith that can be secured with intelligent thought, argument and discussion. But I am not pushing anything and I am not in a rush. I figure the first step is to say

“Hey God, do you just want to talk sometime - you and me? I was wondering if I could touch base with you more often, you know shoot the breeze, talk about how the little things... and sometimes the big things... Oh, and if you can help Liam find his car or another option regarding that I would really appreciate it. Sounds good, talk soon"