This is not a tree. It’s a grass. Hmm, it seems that it shouldn’t be here in the realms of Stripes and Trees. However, whilst out jogging this afternoon, amongst millions of trees, when I saw these grasses standing tall at the waters edge, catching the afternoon sunlight, showing off their delicate beauty, I stopped. I was running quite fast so I had to turn and run back. I couldn’t get the the image of them out of my head. It had only been a few seconds, but I knew I had to go back and take a photo. In my head I was saying ‘it’s not trees, it’s not stripes…shall I bother?…it’s lovely anyway, go and appreciate it….oh well, I’ve stopped now…might as well…but it’s not trees…’ And actually, the photo is pretty rubbish. Doesn’t do it justice at all. I hate the random grass across the top right corner. I’m not going to photoshop though…no idea how anyway. It is what it is. But was it worth it? What was all that head chatter about? So much energy taken up in a split second for a disappointing photo. Why?

I think I know. It was to learn ‘good enough’.

Years ago I’d be worried that stopping whilst running would be bad for my time or pace. But these days, just being out and running is good enough. Oh yeah.

Most of the time I worry what people think. Not sure why, I just always have. It’s so annoying, so draining. The act of taking this photo was fine, no one needs to see it. It is the sharing that brings tension. Usually I wouldn’t post a disappointing photo. I’d be worried what people think. ‘She’s not very good…why did she put that up…oh my’. I’m normally lucky and just point and snap and get the shot – I do have an eye for composition (thanks dad!) But I’m not a photographer, so right now, this photo of the grasses is good enough.

This ‘good enough’ sentiment has been following me around for a few weeks, popping up at work, on social media, at home, even from my kids. It’s resonated each time, and so now I am acknowledging it.

Last week I made the kids dinner and afterwards I gave them a shop bought mini apple pie and ready made custard. My daughter said ‘thanks mum, that was the best’ after inhaling it, and I said ‘thanks, but I didn’t make it I bought it’ and she said, and I’m not kidding, she actually said ‘that’s ok mumma, that’s good enough’. Years ago I’d worry about not being able to make meals from scratch, but now as I juggle life’s balls daily, I’m ok to drop one, and be more resourceful and get help when needed (thanks pie makers and Dairys!) These days feeding the kids pudding at all, is good enough.

And as I lie next to my ‘finally sleeping’ son writing this, I reflect on today. We didn’t go to the cherry blossom festival as I had hoped we would do, but after a reassessment of challenges and needs (thanks hubby), instead we chose family time, house time, exercise time, kid time, park time. It wasn’t pink and gentle and serene, we had tears and tantrums, but we also had giggles, cuddles, cubbies, questions, sibling sharing, and Yorkshire puddings (shop bought too – don’t tell my dad!). We had the kind of Sunday reminiscent of my childhood. It was good enough.

Today was good enough. Tomorrow will be good enough. We are all good enough.

Love Stripes and Trees xxx

National tree day – how did I almost miss this? I need to post something.

I may have nearly missed the significance of this day to stripes and trees, but I certainly didn’t miss seeing trees today. They were there at daybreak out of my son’s bedroom window, they were there in my park, they were there all along the bank of the Cooks River, the ghost gums were there on my in-laws street, and the massive tree shedding leaves in the gentle wind even got audience involvement (btw, do you know how hard it is to catch a falling leaf?) I stopped for a micro-moment and appreciated each of these.

Trees connect us. They give us the air to breathe, and in return we give them their air. They blossom in the most magnificent and vibrant colours, taking turns throughout the year – camellias, magnolias, jacarandas, frangipanis. They do their job and they smile flowers or leaves.

I wish I was a tree.

Recently I’ve been feeling that I’m not doing my job, nor smiling. My work job, my mum job, my sister job, daughter job, wife job, friend job… I do what I can but I know I need to more. And it bothers me. And as life continues to serve mini challenges, mini yet constant often draining episodes, I’ve been wondering more than usual…what is it all about?

Thinking about LBK (life before kids), thinking about life with one cherished cutie, and then with two…thinking about what it will be like AK (after kids). The kid factor usually gets the most attention because their impact is so obvious (poo, mess, noise…and of course giggles and their little warm bodies and minds of wonder), but perhaps the attention should go to me. I’ve been saying repeatedly at work recently ‘it’s not about me’, as a coping mechanism to bad vibes, even writing INAM at the top of notebooks that I take to meetings. But I think in my personal life, it surely must be about me. My career choices, my relationship and friendship imbalances, it’s my choices, it’s me…heck, it’s me. I’ve got work to do. I need to stop buying the parenting books and turn to self help instead.

Before my jog along the tree lined Cooks River today, I said to my kids as they protested me leaving them, “I have to go, otherwise I’ll get more angry”… it wasn’t the best expression of how I was feeling, instead I should’ve said “it helps me feel calm”, but I know that I am often quite frank when put on the spot (that’s my introverted personality, I need time to process)…but at least I’m honest I guess. And these days it is 100% true, exercise is mainly for my head. The physical benefits are secondary. The slim, toned, smooth body dream has long gone been surpassed by strength, inner, core, ‘down to the bones’ strength. Wisdom. Ageing. All good.

The days of not exercising because I had washed my hair that morning have long gone too. I still find washing and drying my unpredictable mane a chore, but I will do it twofold/threefold if it means I can go for a jog. I would wash my hair for a whole day non-stop if I could jog everyday for a month.

Back to the point though…what is it all about? Last week I think I started to figure it. We’ve started a family tradition of watching an animal show every Sunday night (a Sir David Attenborough fest – hallelujah!). As we watch the heart wrenching moments when baby birds fall to their death after months of being closely reared, or penguin chicks lying frozen on the ice, I remembered that we are animals too, and the point might be to simply survive and procreate. But some people chose not to have children, or they find that they can’t, or they did and have since lost, so it can’t all be about that.

As I undertook my jog, I randomly saw a school mum and her rabble of four on bikes, I saw a good friend and her daughter drive past in their car, I jogged up Hill St (and felt the pang of my family in the uk, the Hills). Then, as I ran across a road a van went in front of me. It really should’ve let me go, and just as I started to feel the mini frustration of pedestrian/jogger dues, I saw the logo on the side…it was a community van, and I instantly felt better. ‘Why get cross about that?’ I thought. And I didn’t. And then, literally just at the moment when I thought ‘I know, it’s all about community and connection’, a beautiful green palm frond appeared in my path, and I simply held out my hand and high-fived it! Seriously. It even went slap! Oh yes, the plants have got my back. They know this stuff. They see it. They are there. Connect. Celebrate!!! ✋

Actually all this talk of connection is quite ironic as we find our household plummeted in an ‘your internet connection is down’ situation. We will survive. Back to pen and paper (thanks trees).

I jogged today, I connected today (to trees and to people), and I washed my hair on a non-wash day.

Thank you trees for always inspiring me.

Love Stripes & Trees xxx