Sunday, December 30, 2012

My Intentions for 2013

This year more than ever, I feel the need to set a clear intention for the New Year. I am not sure whether it is the uncertainty of not working or the influence of Susannah Conway's Unravelling 2013 (This is a really useful process that has helped me review the last year; the sweet times and the challenges. I highly recommend this free workbook)

2012 was a mixed bag for me; some amazing adventures in our big trip to Europe, some great learnings both in my print class at Kuringgai Art Centre and writing classes at the NSW Writers Centre but also on-line. I have dabbled in several classes but my favourite eclasses have been those run by Susannah Conway- I love her style.

So looking back at 2012 my words for the year if it was going to be a book title would be something like "Delve, Discover and Dissolve" or "The Year I lost my way". Whilst there were many great things about this year, my health issues (including DVT in Morocco and the consequent depressive reaction I had for several months when I returned home, a swollen knee from doing exercise that took over a month to resolve, a mysterious electric pain in my jaw that lasted for a painful three weeks) as well as my resorting to old behaviours of over-eating and over-drinking to compensate leading to weight gain and more misery.

Somehow, the thing that resonates most with me about 2012 is my desperation about keeping control, my stress about uncertainty and ultimately my inability to go with the flow. OK so these have been issues that have been part of me all my life but suddenly in my year of transition- the year after we sold our business when I was supposed to "discover" myself and find my "inner creative", I have struggled. My anxiety created a lot of stress and at times, I felt quite lost.  

Towards the end of 2012, I realised that I am still grieving for our business, for my work role, for a structure that gave me meaning and so the word for 2013 that kept popping into my head was "Relinquish". Time to relinquish my micro-managing control, lose the kilos that I have gained and let go of my old patterns for dealing with stress and relating to the world.

The more I thought about "Relinquish" it only felt half right. I also want to take on board some new patterns and new behaviours so another word "Embrace" also resonated with me. I want to embrace writing- part of my strategy for letting go of our business is to write about it, what worked, what didn't, what we learned, embrace new exercise routines; a series of injuries have made my favourite exercise routines like running and gym classes more strain than help and I want to embrace my new view of myself in the work world, without the title of business manager and owner..I also want to embrace a role that will give back, so I have started looking for voluntary work where I can use my skills to help others...and in the spirit of letting go I want to embrace some playfulness, spontaneity and flow.

But more than anything else, I want to "Create". I want to create more beautiful quilts, create a healthy and energetic body, create a lifestyle that I love, create a new work role.

So I have three words for 2013- Relinquish, Embrace and Create.. somehow they are all related and interlinked. What is your word or three for 2013?

Sunset Lord Howe Island 2009




Saturday, December 29, 2012

Best of 2012 in photos

Inspired by Susannah Conway and Elisa Blaha, two of my favourite bloggers at the moment, here are some of my best moments captured in photos in 2012. ooh it was so hard to choose but here goes..

Best Sunrise: Sculpture by the Sea, Sydney Australia

Best New Photography skill:  Night Photography Centennial Park with Peter Solness
Best new friends; Ahmed El Jabri & family, Marrakesh, Morocco
Best Sweets: Istanbul, Turkey
Best Taste Sensation: Goat Cheese Snow, San Sebastian, Spain
Best Silliness: Noosa Queensland
Best Flower: Protea from Gooloo, Milton, NSW

Best discovery: Reflections make great pictures, Launceston Tasmania














Christmas lights

St Mary's Cathedral in Sydney put on a spectacular display of Christmas Lights this festive season. Bruce and I took  some photos of the colour and the lights.











Friday, December 28, 2012

2012 in review - best books

I love my books and I am constantly reading partly for escape, partly on a quest to learn more and often to find out more about myself. In 2012 here are some that have grabbed my attention..

Expanding my horizons

Christina Baldwin Storycatcher; Making sense of our lives through the power and practice of story "Story binds us, gives us place, lineage, history and a sense of self," says Christina Baldwin. This book takes us through the importance of being a storycatcher, how we weave, create and tell story. Using her own story as examples, this book captivated my imagination and spurs me on to be a better storycatcher.




Susan Cain Quiet: the Power of Introverts People often question that I am an introvert and I have struggled at times to accept that I am one. But the most telling sign is how I get, regain and maintain my equilibrium- alone, in quiet and often with my nose in a book. In a world where being an extrovert is the norm or the preferred way of relating, this book draws on research to explain and understand the experience and preferences of the introvert.



Brenda Tharp & Jed Manwaring Extraordinary Everyday Photography This book taught me to look for beauty in the everyday; to slow down and look for the smallest signs of beauty in the space I inhabit. Encouraging me to photograph with heart, I love this book.






Kelly McGonigal Willpower Instinct (or Maximum Willpower in some countries)
Being a person who struggles constantly with willpower especially over excessive eating and drinking, (yet demonstrates great willpower to achieve work tasks) I was naturally drawn to this book. Kelly writes in an easy manner and explains how willpower works, how to improve willpower through training and how we all have limits of self control.




Fiction

SJ Watson Before I Go to Sleep This is a stunning debut novel by English writer, SJ Watson. The story tantalises us with the intriguing concept of a woman with amnesia, who wakes each day not knowing who she is. Drawing on a journal that her neurologist has encouraged her to keep, Christine tries each day to piece together her past and find scraps of her memory. It is a gripping mystery that unfolds with surprising twists and turns.

Barry Maitland Bright Air
Set in Sydney and Lord Howe Island, this is a gripping thriller that kept me engrossed until the end. Not a standard detective story but rather an unfolding of a mystery. Lord Howe is one of my favourite places in the world, its pristine beauty, crystal clear waters as well as stunning reef and fish. Naturally I loved looking for landmarks in this book.

This was my first Barry Maitland novel and I went on to enjoy several of is other police / detective stories set in England.

My fiction genre of choice is mysteries, thrillers and detective stories. this year I have indulged in the latest releases of my favourite authors; Lynda La Plante, Tess Gerritson, Elizabeth George, Jeffery Deaver to name a few.


Tuesday, December 25, 2012

2012 in review Best places

The end of 2012 is fast approaching and it is time to review the year. First here are four of my favourite places

Bay of Fires in Tasmania


Cappadoccia, Turkey



 New York, New York



Marrakesh, Morocco

Saturday, December 15, 2012

the announcement

Two years ago, at our staff Christmas party, we told our staff that we had signed a contract to sell our business. It took another 8 months before the handover was completed. I am now realising that the experience of building up a successful business over 20 years as well as the experience of letting go what had effectively become a huge part of our marriage and family as well as part of who we are as people, is something I must write about next year.

I wrote the story below last year when I was still dealing with the night of the announcement.

Standing in the foyer, I can see our staff arriving for the Christmas dinner. I am aware that I have a secret. Bruce and I have been harbouring this shocking secret for almost six months. I feel a nervous churning in my stomach.

I am the designated speaker, the one to tell this tale to them all. I have been practising the speech for six months, waking fitfully and rehearsing at 3am. Tears course down my cheeks every time I say the words. I have perfected it now, honed it to a beautiful script. I am due to tell them after we have eaten entree. God, only a couple of hours to go.

I damp down my anxiety push my rehearsal into the background. I put on my friendly smiling welcoming face. I pretend it is just another Christmas dinner.

The waitress brings a glass of white wine. I take the glass gratefully. I sip the cool dry liquid and feel it soothe me. I admire the view from the window. The Opera House and Harbour Bridge are lit up against the inky night sky.

Behind me I hear the happy joyous chatter as our staff reconnect, greet each other and share their wishes for the Festive Season. "This is such a gorgeous location" they say. Little do they know.

The room feels warm and close. I move to chat to a small group of laughing women. We talk about our plans for Christmas, how we will spend time with family. I cover my deception with chitter chatter.

I am relieved when we are ushered into our private room. Twenty four people sit around the table. Bruce and I are together at the head. I study the menu and choose my meal thoughtfully. The table looks pretty. Tea lights twinkle. I hear the snap of Christmas crackers. Brightly coloured hats adorn their heads. There is laughter and enjoyment. I am aware how shortly this will change.

The final plates are cleared. It is time. I rise to my feet. The waitress has been pre-warned. She discreetly finishes filling water glasses and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I take a breath, aware that all eyes are on me. I tell a story. I say the words that I have rehearsed. I tell them gently, softly and with love, Bruce and I have reached a decision. We have signed a contract to sell the business. They will all have jobs, not much will change, just that we will leave and be replaced by a company that they know and love.

It wasn't so hard. Surprisingly, I didn't cry. It felt so good, like a heavy burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I take in all the faces. So many people are crying. Quietly, softly just letting tears trickle down their faces. They will miss us and we will miss them.

I sit down. Bruce stands and reassures them. We had to do it. We are sorry. We will be there for the ride. We won't be leaving for 8 months. It's not over yet. We invite questions. The questions come. Slowly at first, they ask, we answer.

Then more food arrives. They turn to each other and engage. At least, they have each other on that they can depend.

Sydney Harbour by night 2011

Friday, December 7, 2012

virtual dinner party

Over at our Blogging from the Heart Facebook group, we are holding a virtual pot luck dinner party. Everyone is bringing a dish to share. What a great way to share food and good company all around the world.

My contribution will be two summer favourites that I love. Simple and fresh.

My roast vegetable salad. I have roasted eggplant, sweet potato and beetroot pieces and blackened them with caramelised balsamic vinegar. Then once cooled added them to a salad of silverbeet, lettuce, red cabbage, a medley of grape tomatoes, chopped baby capsicum, basil and red onion. Extra caramelised balsamic is there to add to individual serves.





I have also made a summer fruit salad of mango, strawberries and passionfruit to served with Greek yoghurt.






Tuesday, December 4, 2012

the purple bliss

Jacaranda trees are in flower in Sydney and the purple blooms are blissing me out. Every morning our front garden, path and driveway are carpeted in lovely mauve blooms.



Arty view of tree in the park Dec 2012

 




close up bloom Dec 2012

 
view from our bathroom Dec 2012




purple carpet front path Dec 2012

Monday, December 3, 2012

Monday Haiku

Haiku 3 lines 17 syllables (5-7-5)
 
White lightning slashes
Illuminate horizon
Heralds teeming rain 
 
 
 
Lightning Anna Bay 2010
 
 
 
Inspired by the theme STORM at

Letting go

When I go on holiday, one of the treats that I relish is to have a massage or body treatment. This time, in Noosa as we perused the menus of the different spas, I was drawn to the item described as the Dead Sea Ritual.

It was a two part process; the first involved a float in a salt pool in a private room followed by a body scrub and mud mask to refresh my skin.

The float promised to deliver the equivalent of 4 hours sleep in a one hour float. Struggling with sleep deprivation, this seemed like the perfect antidote with the added bonus of having soft smooth skin after the mud wrap.

I love the feel of soft smooth skin when it has been scrubbed and sloughed and smoothed and creamed. Sometime, I find it hard to believe it is mine when I run my hand over a baby soft thigh after a treatment. Aah but I digress.

My husband chose the more manly option of the spa pool, sauna and a deep tissue massage for his tense muscles.

Booked in, the only instruction was to bring our swimming costumes for the float and the spa pool. All else would be provided.

On arrival, we were treated to a drink of lemon and lime juice, to start our detox process, I can only guess. It was tart and tingling but yummy. I love tart fruits and juices.

After changing into my costume and robe, I was shown into the private float room. A large bathing pool with about a foot of water lay before me. My guide explained that the pool is treated with a high density of salt and so I will float. Once I am settled, the lights will dim and only twinkling stars will be seen overhead. (I could choose total darkness but my anxiety led me to choose some light). It is necessary to lie back and stay flat in the pool as sitting up or causing excessive motion will set off the sensors and bring attendants rushing to my aid. As this is a private room, you can choose to be naked or wear your swimming costume, I am told. I choose modesty even though I am quite comfortable with nudity.

Earplugs will protect my ear canals from the salt. If my neck aches, just place my arms behind my head for support, I am told. The attendant leaves saying the lights will come back on in one hour, but if I doze off, she will come and fetch me.

I step into the pool and wonder how I will ever float here. Lying back though I find that yes, I really do float. My legs stretch out naturally, my head feels rested, it is just my arms that seem uncomfortable. I place them by my side, but my elbows ache. Folded on my stomach seems OK until my neck aches. I gently move my arms up behind my head and yes it does give some relief.

I am conscious of my swimming costume, everything about me is brought into hyper-awareness. The stars are too bright. The costume cuts into my shoulder. (Note to self; next time choose nudity and darkness)

Floating around, I start to think, how long have I been here? How long have I got? I need a clock to see how time is passing..

Can't sit up, Can't check the clock, all I can do is wait and float. I seem to rotate ever so gently beneath my twinkling canopy. I can see different perspectives of the room. I am supposed to be relaxed but I feel agitated.

Then I realise, this is about giving in, letting go and relinquishing control.

I am not so good at this. I start to think about the few times in my life when I have actually accepted and given in and relinquished control. Not often. I remember another spa bath, twenty two years ago as I sat submerged in deep water feeling the water soothe the labour pains and contractions as I gave birth to my son. Yes that was one of the few times, I remember having to let go and just go with the flow as my body delivered a new life onto this planet.

So I just have to go with the flow I close my eyes. I tell myself to let go and relax. It seems like seconds pass and the lights come back on. I must have dozed off.

It's over I realise. My gosh, where did that hour go? It is as if the seconds and minutes simply evaporated into the ether.

I sit up, shower to remove the salt and robe up to go to the relaxation room. Lying back on the recliner chair I think, I could sleep forever, I close my eyes again. My limbs are heavy and I am sinking into the chair.

I hear my name being called, time for your mud wrap. I stagger to the treatment room where I am scrubbed, scraped, caked in mud, steamed and rinsed. While I am in the mud infusion, my head is massaged in a way that seems to release all the remaining tension from my limbs. "How do you feel? asks my treatment therapist. "Like I could sleep forever." She smiles and then helps me to my feet and escorts me to the recovery room.

That night I don't sleep well, it is as though my inner peace has been jangled and jarred by the experience. I am so disappointed. But then I am rewarded, the following night, I sleep the deepest and most refreshing sleep I have had in months. It is as though that first night I was sloughing off the final vestiges of stress and tension that had been residing in my body for the last few months. Now I am allowed to give in and rest, switch on my parasympathetic nervous system, stop being hyper vigilant and always in control...

Another thing I have noticed, maybe it is just the holiday, maybe it is the float but I have come home so focused and clear and creative. I am itching to write and make stuff, I am powering through my to do list and it is in a caring and happy way not a stressed out "this is a burden" kind of way. I feel as though I have a new perspective and I am learning to love the me that I am becoming.

Hmm, this float thing could have something going for it. I think I will definitely try it again.



Full moon Noosa beach with birds and boat. Nov 2012




Sunday, December 2, 2012

Monday Haiku 19 November

I have been away and missed my Monday Haiku. I did write two for the 19 November prompt but didn't post it.

The prompt was Tree on Haiku Heights.

Smooth white curved trunk
Tiny scribbled pattern maps
Insect journey home

Scribbly Gum Tasmania January 2012

***
 
 
Ancient trunk felled
Beauty etched bold design
Insect artist work
 
Wood with ink drawing effect. Oct 2011

 

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Three Stories - the makeover

I am travelling at the moment and it is hard to post, here is something, I prepared earlier. At a writing course a few years ago, I wrote the following piece. The prompt was to weave 3 stories with a common theme. My theme was the makeover..


Gently I lowered the door of the oven. For weeks now we had been propping it closed with a broom. It was impossible to estimate how long it would take to cook a cake or a roast. The seal had gone and the hinges were rickety and now as I gingerly opened the door to check the dinner, it fell to the floor. Now we really had to do something about this kitchen.
 
It was a quiet day in the city. Bruce and I walked arm in arm. I glanced towards the shop window and momentarily confused I wondered who owned that incredibly fat stomach. “Must be Bruce”, I thought. “Oh my God, it’s me!” Now I really had to do something about my weight.
 
His face was contorted with rage and sadness. “You are impossible to live with, he said, I’m drowning in a toxic hell.” The barb sunk in. It wasn’t just about us. It really was me. I feel so hurt and angry and unlovable all the time. Now I had to do something about me.
 
The drawing was on the kitchen table; our friend Jon was sketching his ideas on a piece of paper. “You should block up these windows, take out this wall and reorient the kitchen completely." Yes, it makes so much sense. I could visualise the change. It would be a much more usable space.
 
I bought the book. The one that said you can change your body by eating healthy, vegetarian food, cutting out alcohol, coffee, dairy and wheat. I liked what I read. The book appealed. I had a plan that provided the map. I knew I could do this.
 
The Process promised a huge change. Commit yourself for 8 days and you will deal with years of negative patterns and behaviours. Research showed this program had lasting results. If I was going to do the work, I wanted to know this was the one.
 
The night before they demolished the old kitchen, I lay awake all night. We live in a two storey house. Our bedroom is upstairs. Would they do it properly? What if something collapsed while they were ripping out the downstairs. The makeshift kitchen was in the laundry and every room was full of stuff.
 
Giving up coffee was the hardest. The headache thumped inside my brain for days. I drank copious amounts of water and waited for the poison to leave my system. The five o’clock signal for my daily wine was hard work. An argument raged in my head.. Yes/ No, Don’t be a wimp / You deserve it – its OK / Think of the long term / Come on I need a reward.
 
Walking in the door of the retreat, I was terrified. Turn off your mobile phone and say good bye to the outside world. Eight days without contact. How will they cope without me? What will they do if there’s a crisis? Can I really devote eight days to working on me?
 
After one month, we still have a gaping hole where the new kitchen would be. Boards were nailed in place each night to cover the space. Our barbecue is balanced on two planks and is our new portable kitchen. We wok our vegetables on a little gas ring and barbecue the meat. One month, 30 days; the adventure, the novelty still held promise and hope.
 
One month into the diet and I was noticing the difference. Each morning I stepped on the scales and gram by gram my weight was coming off. Caffeine-free, alcohol-free, dairy-free and wheat-free; I felt virtuous, excited and energised.
 
One day into the Process and I had cried buckets. Volker had asked me so gently, “Tell me about your pain.” Tears welled up. I was so relieved to unburden myself. “I feel so unlovable. I feel as though there is a hole where love should be and I don’t know how to fill it.”
 
Two months on and the kitchen is taking shape. Our little camping adventure is wearing thin. The kitchen / laundry is cramped and hard to keep clean. Dust layers every surface. Every morning work men arrive at 7am and make my house their building space. As I rush out the door, it seems there are another 5 decisions to be made. How long will it take to have my house back?
 
Three months on and people notice my new look. I constantly have to hitch my jeans as they slip over my thinner hips. The endless restrictions are becoming tiring. I enviously eye the frothy cappuccinos at our local café and admire the new wines on show at the cellar. The boys are complaining that the menu is getting boring. I wonder how much longer I’ll stick to this regime?
 
Seven days into the retreat and I have broken through the surface. I am coming up for air. I can feel the tensions and hurts melting away. Love is seeping back into my soul and tenderness is growing in places where pain used to be. I want to luxuriate in this and stay cocooned in this protected world forever. I wonder how I will be in the real world?
 
Three years on and the kitchen is the hub of our house. We welcome guests, share feasts, celebrations and close times. We have opened our house to let the light and garden fill the space and brought people into our lives.
 
Three years on it is time to lose more weight. I dropped 16 kilos the last time and kept it off. I knew I hadn’t lost all I needed to lose. I took a breather and now I see I want to do more. I look out at the possibility of being a lighter and fitter me.
 
Three months on and I am back in my real world. While the pain has been cauterised and seeds of love sown, I see light at the end of this tunnel and the journey to fill my soul with love has begun.
At the heart of the banksia Nov 2011

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

looking for rainbows

Today I am looking for rainbows,
 
In the kitchen


In the bedroom


In my photo file
 
 

it never rains but it pours






Remember the calm, Tasmania January 2012
"It never rains but it pours"
is a saying that my grandmother used to recite (one of many that formed part of my proverbial childhood) and it aptly applies to my last fortnight... no wait, this applies to my last month.

Thankfully it has been raining a mixture of good and bad times. Yet I am most conscious of the huge amount of stress that has been coursing through my body.

It is only now when I have taken stock and made a conscious decision to take better care of myself (read cut out alcohol, reduce caffeine, ramp up the fruit and veg intake) that I am feeling the difference.

So what is this veritable waterfall of incidents that created a confluence of positive and negative vibes resulting in (now I am looking for another water word..) a tempest / blizzard / storm of physical and emotional sparks and fizz.
  • My husband had a bout of bowel obstruction which necessitated a 4 day trip to hospital. This is caused by old scar tissue from a burst appendix 30 years ago. While this is something that happens from time to time, can't be prevented or removed and occurs when we least expect it, it is very stressful for us both. Those hours while we try and manage and diagnose at home, shall we sleep? shall we wait? when do we go to hospital? are nerve racking. In the past, it has usually been me who has made the decision, OK we are going to hospital now..but this time, he made the call.
      • The good news is that he is well again..
  • While he was in hospital I drove to the country to visit three of my dearest and oldest friends; a weekend that had been three months in the making ..wonderful blissful sharing, talking and loving friendship unfortunately overshadowed by my feeling frazzled...nine hours driving didn't help..
      • Yet I am so pleased that I spent time with my friends
  • Visitors arrived from overseas just as he was discharged from hospital. Lovely cousins who live in England and we see from time to time, were arriving to stay at our house. We do enjoy having visitors from overseas, taking time to be tourists in our own town..but we were already a little ragged..
      • We had fun and forgot our troubles while they were here 
  • The painters arrived after delaying for two weeks to start repainting the downstairs area. Fantastic, time to refresh and just in time for the festive season but this meant packing up hundreds of books so we could move the furniture, then when done, sorting, disposing or replacing on the shelves. Now we are cleaning up, amazing how paint dust sticks to already grimy surfaces like glue..Hmm great looking but already a bit exhausted and fragile..
      • It will look wonderful when they have finished and they are taking such care to do a great job..
  • This was also when we had scheduled lots of essential appointments so there was lots of busy time, tasks to be done and not much relaxation.
      • Ticked off lots of important appointments yay!
    Then...
  • My knee gave way creating excruciating pain when I walked and even worse when I slept so that my right leg felt like a tight painful throbbing extremity. After a week of icing it intermittently, walking but not running, I decided to give in and seek help. My physio looked in dismay at my knee and said it is very swollen..ooh I said is it? hmm who isn't paying attention then..She was quite strict..rest, ice, stretch and elevate.
      • The universe is telling me something...time to listen again..
By now I was recognising the symptoms;
  • a few too many glasses of wine to cope with the stress and the pain,
  • double doses of comfort food to ease the anxiety,
  • sleep deprivation exacerbated by hot flushes, knee pain and burning off the alcohol, 
  • extra caffeine to keep me awake and compensate for feeling tired,
  • nerves zinging,
  • my creativity dried up and I had no energy, no urge and no ideas
  • chaos begets chaos, I lose things, I can't find stuff, I forget and then..
  • emotions boil to the surface so the need to cry overwhelms and
  • the desperate urge to scream at everyone is like a bubbling cauldron just beneath the surface..
  • I just want to crawl into a hole and forget the world but I was so wired I couldn't even slow down enough to do that
So on Monday, I made a decision; it is one I often make but rarely stay compliant with but it is also one that takes determination but it works.
Take care of myself. I can't do my usual burn up calories at the gym until my knee heals but I can eat and drink right..so I am back on my healthy eating regime..

Here I am day 3 and I can feel the calm slowly infiltrating my cells. I need to remind myself that this is a better way to be. It is so nice to be free of the zing..and look here I am having time to write and be creative again.





Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Monday Haiku

Silence is golden
Peace a proverbial wish
For just one moment
 
***
 
Inky sky twinkled
Serenity caressed
By nocturnal snuffling
 
 

Dawn on Tasmanian east coast by Bruce Allen Jan 2012

 
 
Inspired by the theme of Silence at

Monday, November 5, 2012

Monday haiku



Haiku - 3 lines, 17 syllables (5,7,5)
Two haiku on NATURE


Symphony of chirps
Random sounds prickle dawn light
Awaken new day

****

Colour pops on trees
Blossoms uncoat their glory
Spring life releases
 

Spring Wildflower Oct 2011

Inspired by the theme at

Friday, November 2, 2012

my life as a fairytale

Recently, at a workshop on writing memoir, I was invited to retell a story from my life as a fairytale. Here is what I wrote.

Once upon a time in a land of wide open spaces lived two wizards of healing. Their lives were very busy selecting potions and offering healing spells to all the people in the village. They had four offspring very close together. The eldest of these was a girl named JenMidge.

JenMidge was a strong and capable daughter who had many talents and was especially good at helping other people. As was customary, in the village where they lived, every person was given a special cloak to make the most of their talents.

Being very proud of their first born, her parents gave JenMidge the cloak of Responsibility, a beautiful garment made of soft maroon velvet.

In the beginning, JenMidge wore the cloak of Responsibility with much pride. When she walked in the streets, she stood tall and enjoyed the status that this mantle conferred on her.

But as she grew older, JenMidge was drawn to the cloaks worn by other people. She envied the cloak of beauty worn by her best friend. She was both attracted to and a little fearful of the cloak of adventure worn by her younger brother. But the cloaks that she admired most were the colourful cloaks of artistry and creativity.

The more she looked at the cloaks worn by other people, the more she found her cloak was constricting, heavy and weighed upon her shoulders. She dreamed of slipping out her cloak and being free.

For many years, JenMidge would roll up her cloak and hide it in her satchel and pretend that she was wearing a different cloak. While she imagined that she was dressed in the spangly glittery cloak of performer, her satchel betrayed her. It hurt and forced her to remember that she should be wearing the Responsibility Cloak.

Somedays she tired of wishing for something different. When this happened, she would submit to the cloak of Responsibility and pursue her conventional talents and abilities. She was surprised to find she was recognised for her ability to coordinate and manage many tasks at once. She became well known for her capacity to spin tops, lift weights and juggle balls. In addition, wearing the cloak of responsibility meant that JenMidge often felt compelled to do everything for everybody and she found this very tiring.

One night, JenMidge had a dream. In this dream she saw a heavenly place where people with heavy cloaks could learn to live life without burden. In the morning, she remembered her dream and decided to go in search of this land. Packing up her cloak and taking with her a satchel filled with treasures from her childhood, she went in search of this land.     

It was a tough journey. She trudged up hills in the heat, drank from cool streams in dark forests and searched and searched for this special land.

One day, she met a wise man sitting quietly by the side of the road. She asked him if he knew about this land where people with heavy cloaks could learn to live life without burden.

He looked at her with gentle eyes and a soft smile.

"I think you are looking in all the wrong places", he said. "Sit with me here and show me your cloak of Responsibility. Tell me what you see."

JenMidge sat beside the old man and unrolled her cloak from her satchel. She pointed to its heaviness, she complained about its restrictions and she cried tears of regret.

The old man asked, "Why are you only looking at the outside of your cloak, what is it like inside?"

With uncertainty, JenMidge unwrapped her cloak and lay it on the ground beside her. Tentatively opening her cloak, she saw a rainbow glowing inside, a moon and clusters of stars. Her eyes widened and she turned her cloak inside out and placed it on her shoulders. The cloak felt lighter and floated on her shoulders.

"It is still my cloak of responsibility," she cried, "but I can see both sides of me now."

"Thankyou for showing me a new way of looking at my cloak," she said to the old man.  

I wonder what cloak you were given to wear? How would you write your life as a fairytale and what does this show you about choices you have made.
I am thinking about writing my future story and considering what cloak or mantle I shall choose to wear now.

"Dream" a night photo by iPhone Nov 2011