Banksia trees remind me of my mum who thought the flower ‘cones’ looked like hairbrushes.

It’s Mother’s Day here in Australia, and some other countries around the world…but not where my mum is some 16,934km away.

Since I became a mum I cannot believe that I chose to leave such an important person. But being 27yrs old at the time I was in a different life stage. I was in the ‘me’ stage. I do often wonder how she must’ve felt when I announced very casually that I was moving to the other side of the world. Obviously I didn’t realise the massiveness of the news, because I told her whilst we were doing a weekend top-up shop in Asda, of all places. (That place has been witness to many of my life’s poignant moments – and it’s a running joke that Asda is always visited within the first 24hrs of me visiting.)

I also can’t believe that my mum let me go. So easily. But that’s what good mums/ parents do isn’t it? You raise your young to become strong and independent and let them fly the nest. As my children age, and my parents too, I regularly wonder if I could do the same with my daughter. Could I be so calm if she decided to move 16,934km away? Or even half that distance. I’d like to think I could, but I know that it would be so much harder than I can imagine. From memory my mum just gently and effortlessly let me go and then supported and encouraged my decision to stay away. I used to feel guilty being so far away, but with her honesty and encouragement, I don’t. Thanks mum.

Unfortunately I think I passed my helicopter parent license several years ago, whereas I’d much rather be piloting a glider. Soaring effortlessly and enjoying the view, not waiting in the wings on high alert and then zooming in and taking over. There are certainly no rotors on my mum. There never was. I think that’s why I am independent, thanks to her. She gave me this great gift of being. I hope I can pass on that gift to my children.

She also gave me other gifts, mostly walking advice. Of which she is very good at – never having learnt to drive.

⁃ Don’t walk with your arms crossed – you look slovenly

⁃ Don’t walk with your hands in your pockets because you won’t be able to stop yourself falling

⁃ Stand up straight – walk tall, shoulders back, head high

⁃ Pick your feet up, don’t drag them

She sounds like a stern headmistress of a finishing school, but she wasn’t, she was simply arming me with physical cues to reflect who I am inside. Who she enabled me to be. And I listened, eventually.

Miss you mum.

Love Stripes & Trees xxx

The title is positive, and we’ll get there, but firstly I need a whinge, just a mini one. I don’t want to be a hypocrite and break house rule number 3 (‘no whinging’), because I have been banging on about rule number bloody 3 with my kids all week…all year…but, last week was a challenge for me, I was overwhelmed and exhausted and I just needed to go “blauergrhisugh?!?&?!?!!” (That’s not whinging is it?)

Break free, be you – twirly stripes amongst straight ones

The introvert inside me was curled up in ball on a big soft sofa wearing pjs at 3pm, but the small part of me that is an extrovert was shouting “whoop whoop” from the rooftops through a megaphone and wearing sparkly stiletto heels!

What happened? And where is this story going?

Well, I challenged myself, worked through it and good things started to happen. Thanks to nice people. It all sounds a bit cryptic, but it’s really not. I just pushed myself, used all my energy, faced some challenges, pushed harder, and now as the frazzled-ness has dissipated, I’m reflecting. And the conclusion slide in my head is that I couldn’t have done it without nice people. And my recommendation is to try it yourself.

So what did I even do??? Basically, for once in my life, I listened to my true inner self, I worked out what to say before I said it, and then I calmly verbalised it – it’s a big deal because I’m often accused of speaking too soon, or with too much much emotion. Anyway, the result was that (without sounding spiritual) I sent some energy into the world, and as the law of physics states, the energy came back. And along the way I re-discovered something that I tell my friends and my kids when they are hurt…that most people are nice! Simples. People are just like you and I, people are nice. (Yep, I’m complimenting myself, but also you!)

I was more than satisfied with this calm positive conversation, it took some effort, but I was happy with the outcome. But then along came a boat. A boat that I really didn’t want to be on. The fear of being trapped on the boat, seeing land but not being able to walk on it, the fear of talking to strangers, making small talk, having to be switched on – these things started to override the potential visual glimpses of Sydney Harbour beauty, the nice catch ups, the relaxed drinks. But I pushed myself, I got on that boat with 1 minute to spare, after declaring hours earlier (and on the hour every hour like a crazy cuckoo), that I would not be getting on the boat.

Palm trees enjoying the harbour, from the land

There was an element of FOMO (still rife even though I’m 41!), but I think I subconsciously did it because it was an opportunity that I’d never have again – I don’t mean the boat, nor the harbour views, I’m referring to the people. The opportunity of having good people in close proximity – trapped – ha ha! How ironic! On the boat, I had a few knowing looks, “oh, I see you are on the boat! I knew you would” – those type of looks, but they came with understanding, from nice people.

So once the boat hurdle was mastered, the thinking/talking communication style that I’d started earlier in the week continued – and it was working. The neurons in my brain were super happy, they’d been treated to a new experience and developed new relationships. And then throughout the week more and more good things started to happen, I developed new relationships with things, and with people.

Whilst running, literally three cars stopped and gave me the right of path. How lovely is that? Despite a high proportion of runners in Sydney, it really doesn’t happen very often as people race about their days and don’t put themselves in other people’s shoes. I felt each time that the driver really understood what I as a runner must’ve been going through – do not stop…or you may not start again!

Multiple multi-directional stripes on my running route

At the weekend a good friend, my soul sister, magically read through the signs and rescued me from wallowing. She took me to the source of nature’s healing power – to see a sunrise, on a beach (bonus points!) 😘

And a week after the first conversation, I spoke again. I took a deep breath and shared my pre-prepared thinking, sprinkled with emotion (not smothered), and the goodness continued.

For change to happen there needs to be some discomfort. I had discomfort, and I have changed. I’m happier and I’m grateful for all the nice people who helped.

Stripes and trees xxx

I saw the pictures last year, and booked the accomodation months ago. This weekend we went. Country NSW.

The trees. Everywhere. I can’t recall any stripes, just trees forever and ever. Country NSW.

I had imagined that I would be taking millions and trillions (even zillions) of photos, even taking a digital SLR camera with me, but alas, it stayed in my suitcase.

What happened?

To be honest, I think I had just built it up too much in my head and therefore felt a little disappointed with reality. Don’t get me wrong, the natural beauty was spot on, you can’t beat that. That never disappoints because I don’t think you can even imagine how great it will actually be. But it’s so hard to photograph, really really hard. I’m just an amateur ‘snap with my phone’ kinda photographer.

My disappointment was with the gardens we visited, the gardens from the pictures I saw years ago…a major reason for our trip. In fairness the disappointment was not with the gardens, but my response to them. I was just expecting more natural beauty, more rugged landscape, more Australia, but instead we found well groomed beautiful gardens, meticulously planned, somewhat English and lavish. I’m not a fancy kind of girl. I can’t keep up! Anyway, I felt a little foolish and a little sad.

Despite the colours and the undulating grassy lawns leading to ponds and stepping stones…(sounds amazing huh?, and it was!), I just found myself (and my family) somewhere that I wasn’t expecting. The introvert and empath within me spoke up and I vocalised that I felt bad that I had imposed this experience on them. They were fine. They said so. And I think they were. My daughter, otherwise known as a wise old women in disguise as a child, said calmly, “Mumma, it’s ok, you got to go to the maze, behind the waterfall and take some beautiful photos” – she was right of course. It just wasn’t quite what I expected – it was 38 minutes lost in a maze, a fake waterfall, and just a handful of photos (but who needs 100’s anyway?)

Anyway, just now, literally just now (back in normal every day life), as I was running and trying to work out how to write this post, my Spotify wouldn’t work. So instead of my usual fast 5k jog playlist I had a schmozzle of random tunes from my iTunes account that I no longer use, and I ran a slower 6k with a fast finish! Never did I expect that today. And never did I expect Joni Mitchell would be jogging by my side, or an REM track would get me through the line, a track that I first owned as a teenager on a cassette tape (copied from a boyfriend) in my bedroom in the north of England…I never expected that today. The whole experience made me smile.

They say expect the unexpected. I’m going home to my daughter what she thinks.

Stripes and Trees x