Look at this beaut. The texture, the colours, the stripes – love love love!

It’s a hand crocheted blanket gifted to my son from a family friend. It has one of the best stripes in my opinion – the chevron! Dynamic, bold, movement, direction. The day before I started this blog I saw a chevron pattern on a road sign next to a park – “keep out” it was shouting – yet there was no sound at all. Just visual noise, black and white contrasting loud and proud.

When I see the chevron my mind wanders to many different decades. Mostly I think of the 70’s for some reason, but also the 80’s and 00’s – times when strong memories for me were made. During the 80’s I was growing up with a great colour palette but mostly wearing hideous patterns (chevron was the saviour!), and in the 00’s I was a young adult just out of uni, trying to work out my groove in the big bad world – and chevrons made me feel more grown up, stronger, outspoken even.

But back to the blanket. Whenever I see hand made ‘anything’ I think of my mum. She is as crafty as it gets. So talented, so creative, so innovative, and so content with the process of craft, not necessarily the product. Of course she has pride in her creations, but she doesn’t shout about them (she’s no chevron!), she just does what she does because it makes her happy doing it.

You know, the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ is so relevant right now. As my children meet new challenges, so do I as a parent, and sometimes I don’t do so well. As I behave like a chevron with a megaphone, my children converse back to me like that, despite the words ‘no shouting, softer voice, inside voice’ – my actions are chevron. I don’t like it.

My mum never shouted at my and my sisters. How did she manage that? I think the clue is in the blanket. What I need is some craft time. I’m going to take my mum’s advice, even though she never told me out loud, I’m going to get my craft on. Actions speak louder than words.

And what my mum knew, I now know. And I am back where I started. With my mum.

Stripes and trees xxx

Recently I have become obsessed with the song ‘Carolina in My Mind’ by James Taylor. Spotify tells me it is on heavy rotation. I cannot disagree. Heavy. What a beautiful voice and harmony. I looked into the meaning behind the song and it is about him feeling homesick. Perhaps this is why the heavy. I feel homesick, especially in the northern hemisphere winter.

Trees have incredible roots. Look at this beauty I saw one day whilst jogging along the Cooks River:

This tree chose well.

Where we put down our roots is a big deal – not necessarily at the time we do it – when we are young and carefree and exploring the world – but they are when we get older and have different roles in life and our literal family trees grow and span not only the state, but the world!

Saplings can be nurtured, gently watered, sheltered, and then easily picked up and moved, to carefully chosen places where they will bed their roots. I remember my dad gently tending to rows and rows of various seedlings in the greenhouse. Seedlings are really just like little kids. Resilient, adaptable, courageous. Big established trees with many rings in their trunks often start to lose these traits of strength…as do grown ups. We become more set in our ways, even though we said we never would twenty years ago.

My roots began sprouting far far away from where I let them set. Sometimes I daydream about going back, imagining the crisp mornings, the daisies and the squirrels. Seeing the faces of my family in the flesh. Sharing the same days. But to be honest, pick me up and put me back and I’m just not sure how I would flourish. Maybe I’d grow different coloured flowers, or I would lean the other way towards the sun, or maybe I wouldn’t fit in. I just don’t know. And unfortunately the uncertainty stops me. Like a big tree who runs out of energy to re-establish in a new garden.

What I do I know for certain though, is that all we have is now. And the sun I see here is the sun you see there, wherever you are.

And also, ‘never say never’.

Stripes and trees x

Beautiful crepe myrtle tree in my garden. The flowers match my runners

Yesterday I extended my causal 5k to 5.6k to ensure that I jumped to the incredibly exciting ‘purple’ level in the NRC app (Nike Run Club). I did it. Whoop, yeah!!! But what did I get? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. What was I expecting? Well actually, I was hoping for a spinning purple shield with some balloons or confetti moving around it and a trumpet sound, seriously, that’s the truth. I double checked a few sections searching for my cheering squad. But no. Tumbleweed rolled instead.

I must admit, I was disappointed at the time. These animations do make me smile. Or maybe I should say smirk. But 24hrs later I actually feel pretty silly admitting that. I really do. Why do I need electronic validation? I’m above that surely?

Conditioning is so effective. I was just like one of those dogs that Pavlov tested his theory on. I’ve been conditioned to expect a reward for my efforts, especially from my phone. Gamification of previously perfectly enjoyable experiences has tricked this old dog good and proper.

But defending my achievements, that 2500km is only in the app. What about the days I ran but my battery died, or I ran for the bus, or all those years when I ran pre-NRC and was blissfully naive of the love/hate relationship with self-monitoring? They count. In fact I can still remember the first time I forgot my music and heard my running breath. That was amazing. Try it. Running for me is more than the miles.

In truth I did get something for my efforts. Two things. Firstly, I was informed on the levels page that there was 641.5km to get to the first purple milestone. Oh joy (sarcasm). I’ve just done 2500km and you are telling me I need to do more? Secondly, I had a reality check. I still ran, no matter how far (or fast, and don’t even mention the splits or elevation), and just because I measured it doesn’t make it more real, more worthy, shield deserving. I realised that I need to reframe my thinking of measurements and their impact on my mind. Yes, the gap to purple motivated me to run further, but the achievement was a let down. I need to find my motivation from within, and only measure the mere doing. Just be.

Stripes and trees x