Concert stripes

When I was 4 years old I held my first public concert. The stage was the bank, the audience was people queuing (who had no real choice), and the main song, the only song, was Lavender’s Blue – “dilly dilly”. I do not remember this moment, but oh how I wish I did. I’d love to bottle those potent feelings of passion, courage, determination and achievement, yet instead I took the story from my mum and bottled it in my own bank, my memory bank. It may be a little warped but this story has given me power and strength over time. “If I could do that when I was 4 I can do anything now…that is the real me, that’s what is inside.” Ultimately “I will be me and will not be scared”.

Knowledge is power.

These days I sing in the supermarket. Marrickville Metro Woolies has a great pop playlist – a smorgasbord of Rick Astley, Belinda Carlisle, Maroon 5. I sing out loud, I don’t care, it makes me happy. Really happy. Subconsciously, it probably takes me back to the bank when social norms had yet to take hold on my vocal chords.

My eldest sister first introduced me to the phrase ‘knowledge is power’ when she sent a card to me as I embarked on new adventure at university. I displayed the card proudly, centre stage on my huge pin board. There it sat for one whole year watching as I morphed into the new adult me. I looked back at it regularly, absorbing her advice, copying her handwriting (that z!), and communicating to new faces that I had a really cool wise older sister (one of two actually – how lucky am I?) I kept that card for decades. It really resonated with me. Still does. Ta sis!

Another poignant memory I have of singing, is when I was informed, along with fits of giggles, that the fly from the song which goes ‘shoo fly don’t bother me’ was not actually a ‘shoe fly’ – I mean what even is a shoe fly? What was I thinking? I think I was a teenager when this devastating news hit me. In my mind I had vividly imagined a little buzzing fella hanging around a smelly shoe. Oh the curse of the English language and learning by phonetics.

Knowledge is power. I was brought down that day.

But these days I am back up! I have the knowledge. Recently I saw a band play live and it was truly amazing when so many puzzle pieces slotted into place in my mind over the two hour set. What made the concert so much more poignant for me was that a few hours before the first stage fx went boom!, I had the pleasure of hearing the main singer talking about the band’s experiences and some of the stories behind the songs. No mention of a bank, but there were mentions of passion, courage, determination and achievement. Being yourself!!! The relevance of these messages was so powerful, the timing was perfect, I felt truly privileged and my eyes, and ears, are now fully receptive.

Admittedly I felt a bit guilty not finding out the meanings behind the songs prior to the gig, I felt a bit selfish and childish just enjoying the melodies and going ‘I love this song! This is my song!’ That’s so lame. Sorry musicians and songwriters. It doesn’t happen all the time but I have been known to love the melody of a good chorus or a clever rhyme, without looking deeper. But now I have the knowledge.

I have more knowledge than yesterday.

I have more power than yesterday.

Knowledge is power.

Stripes and leaves xxx

Light stripes

My introduction to Spotto came less that a year ago, but the impact it has on my life feels like it may be longer lasting.

Leaping out of the school playground and into my car, Spotto is now an ever lasting creature (even a virus!) that I cannot escape. Sometimes I shout it out and the kids (who have infected me with this thing) aren’t even bothered, sometimes the glory of declaring a Spotto is short lived when it causes real tears for those less eagle-eyed (“I wanted to see it first!”), and worst of all, as is often the case with jigsaws and colouring-in books, I find myself playing it on my own, when I am purposefully in a pre-planned me-time moment, there she is, bright as a yellow daisy, well, a yellow car…Spotto!

When I first learnt the rules, I thought it’d be hard – I mean how many yellow cars do you normally see, hmm, one a month maybe. But today I saw three in the space of 5 minutes.

I was on the way home from my jog along the river. Feeing serene and the perfect balance of exhaustion and re-energised. It’s funny, because when I was jogging I was very much in the moment and I consciously thought “all I can see is green and blue, how lovely, nature’s calming colours…” and then I get back to the car park feeling relief that my legs carried me the distance, ready to sit/collapse and calmly stretch, and then boom, there it is, a bloody yellow car. Once seen you can’t undo them. Sounds like a line from a horror movie poster, doesn’t it?

There is no magic though, it’s simply due to the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, an illusion of frequency, plus the support of confirmation bias, telling yourself it’s really happening…when it was happening all along you just didn’t notice it.

So despite its gaudy ways (yellow is pretty full on alllllllll over a car), Spotto has taught me, or reminded me at least, of a few life lessons:

⁃ Belonging – it’s nice to be truly accepted and playing in my kids world for a bit

⁃ Patience – it’ll happen, often sooner than you think; and if it takes longer there are other interesting things to see along the way

⁃ Simple games – made up of simple rules, no accessories needed, an equal playing field – I like it!

⁃ There are so many hues of yellow – can you call out for a gold tinged car? But hesitate and you may not get the call…it’s risky

⁃ And finally, if you put it out to the universe it’ll come back. Truth. (Oprah and Ashton Kutcher confirm this – Salt Lake City is still prominently ruling my head…and heart).

I know that when I started being grateful I feel it more, and then I saw more and more and more things to add into my gratitude journal. It really works folks. So, I reckon I need some new rules for this game. But what do I need to spot for? I think I’m already doing it – stripes and trees – they are everywhere…I’m losing track of what I have taken photos of! In all honesty though, I think it’s the simple stuff (again). Health? Happiness? Kindness? Yes I think so. A million dollars? Nah…I don’t want to buy a yellow Ferrari or Lamborghini, imagine how annoying it’d be everyday…Spotto, Spotto, Spotto…

Love Stripes and Trees xxx

Ps sorry for any future sightings of yellow cars and the desire to shout it out, but if you do get bitten by the bug, I’d suggest transforming it into something more fulfilling.

Isn’t it strange when you go away from home, either on holiday, or for a business trip, and time starts misbehaving, tricking you into a false sense of reality?

Strong protective stripes whilst boarding the plane

The build up to travel and the anticipation alone is time consuming, especially for a minimal packer like me who likes to meticulously plan every outfit and not have any wastage of item…yet still have some choices…I have finally mastered this skilful art, but I pack, unpack, repack, many times!

The time away is sometimes fast (‘slow down please…I’m enjoying this’), sometimes slow (‘I’m ready to go home now…’), but always intense, like one the brightest hottest widest rainbows you’ve ever seen.

And then…all of a sudden…you are back home and have been home for more days than you were away and you can’t quite work it out. Did it even happen?

It’s been 7 days since I arrived back from a 6 day work trip to Salt Lake City. The last 7 days have not been technicolor, but more like a grey fog of jet lag, work stress and a continuation of processing the people I heard speaking in the other world that was my temporary home.

However, despite the post-trip lull, my love for family is stronger than before, and my hugs potentially a little tighter – I have definitely come back wiser. There is definitely something bubbling away inside me.

My eyes are wider, my taste buds are alive (fruit, oh how I missed it), my heart is more content and my brain has expanded and my ears are working harder. Listening. Properly listening. With intent.

Obama listened to his audience, with his whole body. The calm energy that he emitted was felt in every part of my body, and my ears could not listen harder…with my eyes fixated on him trying to help make sense of the familiar sound of his voice in the room. He spoke so well, so articulate, and with true kindness. But he also listened. Listening to the huge crowd and responding to the odd murmur or holler with humour, and more interestingly, listening to himself and adding more to his already poignant stories as he eloquently vocalised them. So aware. So present.

Oprah also listened. Yes she talked a lot, she was so incredibly passionate, I could’ve heard her talk for hours. But she too displayed the behaviour of Obama, and actually went further to acknowledge the importance of listening and of being listened to:

“In all of your interactions, in your work, in your home, with your children, with your boss, with your partners, everybody just wants to know: Is it okay? Did you hear me? And did what I say get through?”

I heard her. What she said got through to me. Despite the imbalance of one person on stage to 11,000 in the audience I could tell that this was a two way street. Oprah was open. She was truly human.

Stripes at the gate in Dallas, quite retro

When I landed in Dallas I was excited to hear different voices, accents, phrases. Communication never fails to amaze me. Sometimes a smile says so much when words cannot be shared, and sometimes we have to really explain what we mean by something even when speaking the same language. A small difference in word intonation or placement can lead to initial short term confusion, but often leads to greater listening, further conversation and questions, and ultimately greater connection.

I sent a text this week to someone very special and it said ‘thanks for listening’. I felt so happy to be heard, to be understood, but even happier to send to the message and recognise a simple yet important action in another person, whether conscious or not. I hope to send more, and I also hope to receive some. I’m here. I hear.

Stripes and trees xxx