Butterfly effect

In chaos theory, the butterfly effect (now a movie) explains the sensitive dependence on initial conditions where a small state of change can result in large changes in the end result. That's a fancy way of saying that, given the same starting point, a small change/different decision can make a huge difference to the end game.

I often wonder how my life might be different now if I had have done things only slightly differently years ago. Somewhat like Sliding Doors, but where I get a better haircut than Gwyneth.

For example, I was looking to buy a property in Brunswick in my first year of uni. It would have been a huge financial burden while I was studying. I was working part time while studying full time and a mortgage would have literally killed my social life. My father convinced me not to buy. His wise words at the time were "you only live once. Have some fun while you are young. There are plenty of years where you get to be a grown up". I took heed to hi advice. I spent my money on vodka. I had a great time - the uni years were some of the best of my life - but I do regret not making that purchase. It would have set me up for life.

Or travelling. I had a long term relationship end very badly when I was in my early twenties. I was on the verge of travelling overseas but decided that it was a reckless decision. If I had have travelled  I doubt I would have ended up married to the man I did. I wanted to go to New York for my twenty fifth birthday, instead we saved the money and decided to try for children. This is a decision I will never regret (I adore my children and would not have my life without them) but I do wonder how travel would have changed me as a person. And the trip I did take to Thailand. I wonder where I would be if I had not have taken that leap of faith and spent the week by myself; challenging my body and mind. I doubt the wonderful man I am with now would have asked me out.

We make countless decisions all day long. We will never know which one, or sequence of multiple decisions, brings us to our final resting place.

I an honestly say that there are few things I regret in my life. Almost all of them are things I have NOT done. The things that I have done have led me to the place that I am right now. And, though my life is not perfect (I desperately want to have my babies with me full time), I am pretty fucking happy. I am in love with the spunkiest, sweetest, kindest man. I have two beautiful children. I have a family I can depend on. I have a couple of truly solid friends. My life is rich in so many ways.

Inspiration

Inspiration can come from a myriad of places - people, nature, music, movies, books and prose.

When I think of inspirational people I think of Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Thomas Jefferson, Helen Keller, Muhammad Ali, Anne Frank, Maya Angelou, James McKenna and Kofi Annan. Each of these individuals has dedicated their life to something they were passionate about.  Passion is very inspirational. I find people with passion to be the most interesting, whether I am passionate about the subject matter or not. I am particularly inspired by people who fight for the oppressed. I am a humanitarian at heart and will always stand up for the underdog. 

I am also inspired by nature – trees and water in particular. I find them calming. I think the fact that they come coupled with fresh air makes a difference too. Breeze helps to metaphorically clear the mind. When the mind is clear of obstructions one can be inspired to do great things.

Music is fundamental to my life. I rely very heavily on music to pull me out of darkness when it settles in. I find I can escape in lyrics and there are many songs that touch my soul and inspire me to strive for betterment. 

There are occasionally movies and often books that inspire me. I deliberately steer clear of fiction. I have no space in my life for trashy novels. I use movies to escape into another world.  When I read, I want to learn. I want to expand my brain or explore the way it works; assessing the thoughts I have and work towards self-improvement.

I am not a huge fan of poetry but there are occasions where I have found inspiration in prose. I know that there are many people out there who are inspired by poems though so I cannot discount this as a valuable source of inspiration.

The trick is to find something every day that inspires you to reach further, train harder or be kinder. The world needs people that think; people that treat those around them with respect and dignity and people that value their health. Go out and be one of those people. Learn new things, eat fresh food, get active, read. There are so many wonderful things out there that come free of charge – soak them up! Then spread the joy that you find in them with those you love the most. Make real connections.  Discuss the things that matter. Love wholeheartedly. Give freely without thought of return. Volunteer. Find your passion and live life to the full. Every day.

Pareto Principle

I have too much going on at the moment. Like the strawberry my boyfriend  presented to me on a chopping board while I did my hair before we went out, I have well and truly bitten off more than I can chew.

So, I revert to the Pareto principle,where 80% return comes from 20% of your effort. The 80/20 rule not only applies in project management, it applies in life too.  Biting off the big chunks first to make sure that the high priority, high risk items are dealt with promptly and hoping that everything else gets sorted out in the wash, so to speak

Johari window

As a result of my studies, I have been alerted to the Johari window, a psychological technique used to better understand ourselves and the relationships we have with others. Using heuristic techniques, the Johari window highlights the way in which we see ourselves. Using a set list of fifty five adjectives, you choose the half a dozen that best describe your personality. 

The full list is 

• able
• accepting
• adaptable
• bold
• brave
• calm
• caring
• cheerful
• clever
• complex
• confident
• dependable
• dignified
• energetic
• extroverted
• friendly
• giving
• happy
• helpful
• idealistic
• independent
• ingenious
• intelligent
• introverted
• kind
• knowledgeable
• logical
• loving
• mature
• modest
• nervous
• observant
• organized
• patience
• powerful
• proud
• quiet
• reflective
• relaxed
• religious
• responsive
• searching
• self-assertive
• self-conscious
• sensible
• sentimental
• shy
• silly
• spontaneous
• sympathetic
• tense
• trustworthy
• warm
• wise
• witty

The following are the ones I would choose for myself

1. caring
2. complex
3. energetic
4. independent
5. reflective
6. trustworthy

A little morning jaunt

I am so lucky. I not only get to share my life with the most incredible man but I get to work in the same building as him - watch him saunter down the hallway, randomly hear his voice from across the office, catch up for the occasional lunch when he's not gyming it up. But the best part about working with the man I love is that we go for a quick walk at 0800 every day so he can get a triple shot (today was a quad) skinny latte. 

We will occasionally sneak a kiss in the elevator and he sometimes puts his hand on my waist as we walk through the mall to the organic shop.

Hands down the best part of my morning!

Dance like nobody's watching

There's a meme floating around - dance like nobody's watching, because they're not.They're all checking their phones. 

As I cooked eggs for breakfast this morning, I realised that I stress so much about what I look like and no one cares. Apart from me. No one is looking at my wobbly bits so why does it matter? There's no one out there craving to see my naked body. There's nobody critiquing the adipose tissue on my hips or the fact that my thighs bulge. There's not a single person in the world looking at the layer of fat that covers my entire body. No. One. 

So why do I tear myself to pieces about it? Why does it matter so much to me? Why is unattainable perfection so important? Why do I work myself to illness at the gym? Why do I berate myself for eating three pieces of chocolate after dinner (not three blocks, three squares)? What does it matter?

In truth, it doesn't. It really, really does not. 

Being a specific weight and size does not make me a better person. It does not make me more likeable. It definitely does not make me richer. Nor does it ensure that I will live longer. Having loose jeans will not make my boyfriend love me. Nor will looking good in a bikini make me more compassionate.

The traits that I value are not based on the size of underwear I wear. They are based on the way I treat others. I value honesty, kindness, compassion, generosity, thoughtfulness and authenticity. None of that comes from working out like an elite athlete. All those things come from being emotionally available with a smidgen of vulnerability. The traits that hold weight for me are about being human, not superhuman. 

Apart from my boyfriend, no one ever asks me how much weight I lift or how many reps I did. No one cares. But I care. So I will continue to work out because it matters to me. Not because it might make my boyfriend want to make love to me - because it doesn't. Not because my mother will finally be proud of me - because she won't. Not because it makes me more desirable as a person; it doesn't. I do it because it brings me happiness. It brings me peace. And it helps me to face the barrage of shit that seemingly gets thrown at me as I make my way through life. 

I work out because I want to. I eat clean because I want to. I stay hydrated because I want to. I have made a conscious choice to do these things for me. I get up at 0400 when it is three degrees outside because I like to get ahead of the pack. I am not interested in following like a well behaved little sheeple. I will not comply because that is what is expected of me. I will continue to make decisions in my life for me. I am the one that needs to live with myself and the decisions I make. No one else.

If people are going to talk about you (which they're not - see previous point about the fact that they don't care), you might as well give them something to say. And I want them to say that I led a full life. One in which I looked after myself but one where I made sure that those around me are happy.  I truly believe that it is the little things in life that matter. Like leaving the man you love a handwritten note on the kitchen bench every single morning when you sneak out of the house before dawn. Or making sure that you remember people's birthdays. Or jumping up and down like a 5 year old when a friend gets engaged. Sending a text to help motivate a friend with their fitness journey. Those are the things that matter.

Regret

Regret is such an interesting emotion. For me, regret is intertwined with guilt. Despite the fact that it was unsafe for me and unhealthy for my children, I feel guilty that I left my marriage. I feel guilty that I could not make it work. I regret that I could not make the father of my children love me. After countless attempts over many long years, he couldn't see my misery. He was unwilling to follow through on his endless promises of change. Instead, he sat on the couch for days at a time, unshowered and unhappy. Nothing I could do could pull him out of his depression and addiction. There are days where I regret not fighting harder, or for longer. And there are other days where I can't believe I didn't leave sooner. The guilt kicks in - "why did I stay?", "why didn't I seek legal advice before I left?", "how could I be so stupid as to think there would be a way to help him see reason?". 

Again, the man I married is not an evil man. I just wasn't the right girl for him so he tried to mould me into someone else. I regret not standing up for myself. I regret not chasing my dreams. I regret giving up so much of who I was for him. And I worry that I will fall into the same trap again.

Embrace what is special about you

I can find inspiration in the strangest of places. The Lego Movie, for instance. One of the lines that keeps repeating in my head is "embrace what is special about you".

I've been pondering this since the movie and I am blessed to be generous, loyal and kind. I consider myself to be lucky in that I m able to give selflessly to others. I have learned over the last decade or so how to keep this in check, though, as giving too much to others and not to yourself is unhealthy. While it is nice to be nice, it is important to look after yourself first. Respect yourself. Because without looking after yourself, you are going to be useless to everyone else. You cannot give endlessly. It is important to give to yourself first (within reason) and it has taken me a very long time to learn that. I am still working on finding the right balance with this but I am much closer than I was even six months ago.

Fifteen minute intensive

There's always so much going on in my life. Co-parenting my vibrant children (who I cherish) across distance with ex-husband, full time job, terminally ill father, boyfriend who I adore, studying, staying connected to friends and trying to stay fit. Every day is a rush. Every day I have more to do than I have time to do it in. Every day I juggle all the things I have to do with the things that I want to do for myself. Some of the things I want to do (like study) have longer term benefits which can be hard to see. Other things (gym and writing) are necessary for my mental health. 

I recently read about 15 minutes of power and am tweaking that a little to fit in with my intense life and making it the 15 minute intensive. Setting limits on some things (washing, cleaning and the like) is necessary to ensure that I can have time to chill. Doubling up is also necessary. 15 minutes on the couch can be combined with a hair treatment and a face mask; chuck a load of washing in the machine and I can hang it after I rinse. It's all about working smarter not harder!

A 15 minute intense clean up in the house not only means that the place is tidy but I also work up a bit of a sweat. A 15 minute call to a loved one in the car on the way home from work not only makes the traffic seem less offensive but helps me stay in touch. Setting a 15 minute time limit on social media or that addictive game means that the hours don't drip away at the end of the night when I should be sleeping. Taking 15 minutes outside the office at lunch time to catch some (very) fresh air brightens me up for the afternoon and increases my productivity. Making sure I spend the 15 minutes on a Sunday night to make a big salad means that I have healthy, fresh food for my lunches for a couple of days.

Love is not something you look for

I believe that love finds you. I truly think that you cannot go searching for love (even though I did try for a while).

Love is an attachment that grows. It starts small but when you are completely attached to the person you love it is impossible to consider loving someone else. The mere idea of being with someone other than your love makes you feel physically unwell. When you are fully committed to someone you love; the world is a brighter, happier and calmer place. True, honest and mature love is solid. Love is something that is firmly rooted (and not in a kinky way - though that's important too). Love is like an iceberg. What you see from the surface is nothing compared to what exists below the sea. 

Love is something you commit to. Something you work on. Love is something that you need to cherish - a flame that needs to be fed to be kept alive. Love is easy to lose if it is taken for granted. Love is not a one way street. It doesn't matter how much you love someone, if they don't love you back you are fighting a losing battle. On the flip side, if both parties are invested in the relationship and are committed to seeing it work, it probably will. 

I believe everyone is capable of love. Some fight it. Some people pander to it. While others jump from one love to another. Deep, fulfilling and rewarding love comes from a place of mutual respect. True love comes to those who believe in it and work on it.

I am a true believer in love. I am also a romantic at heart.  I am not the only one either. Whether a massive marketing ploy or a real attempt at finding true love,  I love this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vjty080jy60

Breakfast - meal of kings

Eating out is a real luxury. Food made by someone else always tastes better than something you cooked or prepared for yourself. One of the best bits about eating out is that you don't have to clean up. Cooking is not usually the part of meal making that I detest. I abhor the cursory glance back at the kitchen after slaving away cooking a lovely meal and knowing that, after eating, I need to clean that mess up. The clean up takes the sweetness out of a meal with the speed of superman and the strength of Arnie.

Plus, I love the presentation of meals at restaurants. MasterChef come at me, but I am not going to that kind of effort! While I enjoy food (and I actually like cooking) I don't have the skill nor inclination to do that at home. I love the surprise element of receiving the meal I ordered. Especially when there are berries and flowers involved. I am always a sucker for flowers but they can make a breakfast really pop.

Breakfast is my ideal meal out. While some people like dining on a feast for dinner; I love nothing more than getting up in the morning and heading out for breakfast. It's made even more perfect if you can find a quiet spot in the sunshine but even if it is cold and dreary out, breakfast is guaranteed to cheer me up.

My love of breakfast is not a secret. I have claimed it for many years - breakfast is the bomb! Breakfast sets the tone for the day. To me a nice meal at the start of the day, preferably shared with someone you love, is bliss.

I am lucky to be in love with a man who shares my penchant of breakfast. As such, we rarely go a weekend without enjoying a breakfast out. I love that we get to start the day with a special meal at the start of the day. It gives hope for a happy day. Time spent with my love in the morning means that we get to connect. We chat about our plans for the day and soak in each other's company without being rushed or stressed.


When it comes to selecting something from the menu, I am a sucker for smashed av but I am not a one dish wonder when it comes to breakfast. I also like french toast, pancakes and muesli and I have recently added porridge to my repertoire. 

I have always loves all the little things - little containers, little jugs or bottles of milk, a pot of jam, cute salt and pepper shakers. Breakfast, like dessert, presents an opportunity for such trinkets on the table.

Breakfast seems to be more seasonal than other meals, which I love. I love the thought of reduced food miles and the freshness of seasonal produce. I love the burst of fresh blueberries or the crunch of a new season apple. I love the fragrance of field mushrooms and the zing of winter citrus.

My sweet love and I have a couple of local places we frequent - Peddlers and Aunt Billies being our favourites. Peddlers make the best white chocolate raspberry muffin I have ever had. There's also Red Cup Cafe which has a great vibe. And I love the yellow chairs at Miss Polly's.

I am also a lover of artisan breads. Trend or no; I don't care. I love a grainy fresh bread. Crisply toasted and topped with avocado, a good Greek fetta (thank God for the Greeks!) and a generous splash of lemon. I am also happy to jump onto the black salt bandwagon. Though it makes for filthy fingers, it is delicious!

Breakfast not only literally breaks the fast of overnight, it sets you up for the day ahead. One of the reasons I love breakfast out is that it is generally so much more than the breakfast I would make for myself. While I have been known to whip up a smashed av dish at home, it's never as well thought out as the ones I have had out. A beautiful bread, perfectly toasted with avocado delicately mashed with the addition of lemon and feta is easy to achieve but I would never think to add sunflower seeds. Nor do I have black salt in a little dish at home. I definitely do not grow sugarsnap peas for a garnish! And that's what you get when you go out for breakfast. You get the extra little bit of effort that would be hard to justify if you're making breakfast for yourself.

One of my all time favourite breakfasts was at Top Paddock where I had breakfast muffin. All the noms! Honestly. Probably one of the least healthy meals I have had for breakfast but it was so delicious. Crispy with a maple glaze on the outside but soft and squishy on the inside it was perfectly balances with the tartness of the berries and the mascapone was to die for. I am not usually a huge fan of mascapone but this one was smooth and creamy with the perfect hint of sweetness. It perfectly complimented the dish.

Another was a nutella french toast from a little place in Cantebury that I have been two twice since and they have never again had the dish on the menu. Still, it holds a special place in my stomach and my heart. I ate that whole dish - every damn mouthful! I didn't eat for the rest of the day but it was totally worth it.

And qunces make every dish better! My reintroduction to porridge commenced with an incredible organic dish which was an incredible mix of soft and crunch from a cute little place (Feast of Merit) in Richmond that I dined at after walking the Tan (because my favourite Richmond breakfast place (before I found Top Paddock) - Demitri's Feast was closed and I was hungry!)

Also in Richmond was a recent find where my love and I went to breakfast before I had to work on a Saturday - Friends of Mine is well worth the trip. A funky little place with the most upbeat but not in your face waiter I have ever ha serve me, Friends of Mine was a really great place to eat with my love.

Restart

Some days just suck. Today is one of those days. Despite all good intentions shit just keeps on going down. Up at 0400 to cooks eggs for boyfriend's breakfast. Burn hand. Get to the office. No PC. Try to do some study for myself and the tutorial won't load. Second and third don't either. Waste an hour and a half fucking around on the uni website. Most pathetic workout. Ever! After gym - no makeup. I should have just stayed in bed. I would be better off having not got up today.

What sexy looks like

I am struggling with body image issues again.  This demon pops up from time to time; usually when I have had a period of time without exercise (and, as a result, my weight drifts to a place I don't want it to go). Logically, I know that my body image issues stem from my mother's hatred of her own body. While I consider myself lucky as I have never developed an eating disorder, I have struggled with self love all my life. 

Against societal standards, my happiest times were when I was a teenager. This was a time before thigh gaps and commonplace breast implants but I was in a good place and actually did not despise my body.

Fast forward twenty years and two children later and I am not at all happy with my body. I am scarred. My boobs look like deflated balloons. And, while I work hard to try to keep fit and healthy, I cannot seem to reach my goals. 

I have no self control. None. Plus, I have such a penchant for all things sweet. This leads to me having a really hard time eating clean. I have tried making a pledge with myself to ensure that I stick to my diet but I love dessert. I love it, love it, love it!

I have recently been analysing the way I feel about myself in order to resolve the root problem and figure the best way to work through my issues. Confidence was absent from my life for a long time. However, propped by a few trusted individuals over the last few years, I have slowly built myself up to a point where I am mostly happy with the person I am. I have accepted myself for who I am and worked tirelessly to address the parts of me I wasn't a fan of.

The biggest issue I have with my body are my breasts. I have toyed with the idea of a breast implants and researched heavily to determine the size, type, style and insertion mechanism but I cannot justify the financial expense (an $18,000 commitment every ten years is a lot of money for vanity). I also wonder whether I would just find another thing about my body to obssess about if I did get a boob job.

So, instead, I continue to work hard at the gym. Each day I try again to keep clear of the crap - sticking to fresh fruits and vegetables and a little protein. I feel like I have given up so much of the things that I love (bananas, chocolate milk, chocolate, dessert, hot chocolate - okay, dairy and bananas) in order to achieve an ideal that I have marked in my head as being attractive.

My greatest problem is that I honestly do not think that anyone could find me attractive the way that I am right now. So I chase this crazy notion in my mind that, if I achieve peak physical form, I will be happy. Logically I know that happiness comes from within. It is not a size of clothing. It is not a number on a set of scales. It is not a certain muscle mass. Happiness is attainable at any weight, any size or any fitness level. Happiness is not a constant state. Happiness is a conscious thought. A choice.

So, I reconsider. I ponder as I pound away on the treadmill at the gym before sunrise on a freezing autumn morning. I think and I reassess. And I remind myself that sexiness, like happiness, is a frame of mind. Beyonce is sexy. She is curvaceous - not the sought after size zero of fashion mags - yet she is alluring.  She is confident and has a killer smile. That's what is sexy in a woman. Not some waif of a thing that hides away in the corner. Someone that shines, regardless of their physical appearance. A woman who takes care of her body; dresses well and tops it off with a smile - that's what sexy looks like.

It's a fortunate life

I am so lucky. I'm fit and healthy. I have two gorgeous children whom I adore. I have a job. I have a beautiful home. I have a family I am proud to be a part of. I am in love with an amazing man. I have an incredible group of friends.

I'm so grateful.