Same old Same old?

Posted on December 10, 2008 by Panama Hat

Oh dear.  Long time no write.  I seem to have all the best of intentions and then somehow sabotage myself.  Looking back on all my old posts to choose one for ‘Creme’, I felt rather like I had let myself down.  Talking the talk, but not walking the walk:

I haven’t managed to open myself up to strangers and their pregnant bellies/babies; I still sometimes feel resentful and angry (though less than I did); I don’t know if I actually want to do IVF again, so not sure what will happen with the donor egg offer; I am stuck on week 7 of the Artist’s Way and have been for several months; I haven’t written regularly in any medium since at least 3 weeks before my exam; my life is still full of ‘busyness’.
I feel like I am treading water, never getting anywhere, never actually changing.
However, I can find some positives if I look hard enough.  I seldom cry at pregnancy announcements these days; my heart doesn’t race anxiously when I think about/speak to/see a particular pregnant friend of mine; I’m not all consumed with each ‘cycle’ and ‘will it be this month?’; maybe I do feel a bit ‘softer’ in general; I’ve ‘let go’ of a lot of (material) things this year, which is a huge step forward for a hoarder such as myself.
The Museum of Me, one of my dear friends calls collecting various documentation of your life. Like the trunkful of letters anyone ever wrote to me.  The teenage scrapbooks and Dolly magazines, pictures of pop stars that lined my bedroom at 17, poems written with so much teenage angst you could power your whole house for a year.  Who else would ever want to look at all this stuff?  For what eventuality am I keeping it?  I think on some level I have been saving articles in the Museum of Me for my as-yet-unborn children.  So that one day they might – what – ?  Think I was a total idiot???  Or was I keeping my ‘old’ self alive, fanning the flames of that old self with long-lost-love-letters? (Which I never even read).
Anyway, the trunk came out a number of times this year, and on each occasion I stripped some more burdens away.  Letting go of pieces of me that no longer fit who I wanted to become, who I have become already.  A few close friends received the bundles of their letters in the post – I decided they could have the opportunity to do with them as they saw fit.  Most read a couple, had a laugh, said “I wouldn’t want my kids reading that!” and threw the lot away.  None of them had kept the pile of letters I had sent them.  Very normal and healthy behaviour, as one approaches forty, I would think.
The letters from old ‘flames’ went into the fire.  I felt no remorse or regret and still don’t.  It helped me examine a few relationships specifically, and the way I engage in relationships generally (hoarding people in the same way I hoard correspondence).  I discovered a toxic relationship or two I was willing to let go.  Freedom.  What I once saw as what? protection? all this ‘padding’, the safety net of evidence that people loved me enough to keep in touch – it was just so much ballast, weighing me down.  Kept me tied to the past, instead of being able to live in the future.  Kept me 17 and heartbroken, 22 and homesick.
Equally, I have also been able to discard quite a lot of clothes (moving on to a new style, letting go of the past again) and even a couple of boxes of books.  Every few months I’ve gone through my cupboards/shelves and discarded more things.  Today was bits of old batik fabric (which I loathe – why on EARTH was I keeping them???) and some tablecloths I never use and never want to.  I freed up a whole plastic storage container.  When I moved house each year (for ten years) I never threw a single thing away.  This year I have thrown out more than I ever did, even when I left home at 17.  It feels great.
So, upon writing this, it does seem like there is some movement forward.  Maybe just not in things that seem measurable to the outside/judgemental eye.  Nothing overtly ‘productive’, perhaps, which is why my internal critic tends to overlook these particular undertakings and exploits as positive changes.  Learning to be gentle with myself is proving to be the hardest thing I’ve ever undertaken.  And look how writing helps!
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Glasses Update

Posted on November 23, 2008 by Panama Hat

Apparently I don’t need them after all.  The hand outstretched thing seems to be ‘normal’ (for my age) and although I have one eye slightly short-sighted and the other slightly long-sighted, my current (reading) glasses prescription, according to Mr B, may even be “a little too strong”.  He recommends me only using them only for such times as hours studying or sitting in front of the computer, in order to get a little bit of physical relief from the pain of eyestrain, and not wearing them too much, lest my eyes become lazy.  Which is what I had been doing anyway.  And now study is all over and done with, I haven’t got a problem.

Cool.  One less thing to worry about.
Now, that arthritis that seems to be developing in the distal joint of my right pinkie finger….
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

I’m free!

Posted on November 21, 2008 by Panama Hat

Day one, post exam, and I finally have my life back.  I feel I passed, and I’m thrilled just to have my time to myself again.  Reflexology was a great way to relax after the pumped up adrenaline rush that you get from two hours of frantic thought collecting, semi-coherent sentence writing and lots of fast scribbling.  Then I came home and DH made me a gorgeous salmon dinner.  I forgot to have the beer, though, can you believe it?  My only excuse is the weather is COMPLETELY wacky here and the warm-to-hot days have been few and far between. Yesterday was not one of them and thus not conducive to beer drinking.  I did indulge in a glass of Pierro’s Blanc de Blanc, however, and it was sensational.

This evening we are drinking a Smallwater Estate Zinfandel, which we won at a quiz night a few months back.  Goes well with the two pizzas I made (hot coppa/kalamata olive/portabello mushroom on a fresh tomato sauce base; chargrilled pumpkin, goats cheese and rocket on a homemade pesto base).  Sure is nice to feel like I have the energy and time to cook again.
I would be watching the last disk of House season 4 right now, but DH is on call and has had to go in to the hospital to check out an x-ray for possible arm fracture.  I thought it would be a good chance to throw together an update before the end of the month arrives!
Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary – 4 years.  It is also the anniversary of the day we met (and have been together ever since) – 12 years.  We never buy each other anything.  We just never think of it, I don’t know why.  I’m going to make a nice fresh artichoke and home-grown organic lamb dish for dinner.  It isn’t worth going out to spend far too much on a meal that will be disappointing and badly served.  I know what I’m getting when I cook it myself.  Not to say I don’t like going out for a good meal, I don’t think I cook better than anyone else in the whole world.  Just in THIS town.
What we have bought ourselves, and can readily attribute to the anniversary (if we need an excuse) is an espresso machine.  Whoo Hoo.  FINALLY!!!  We’ve been mulling this over for about two years and doing solid research for a good 10 months.  On ebay last week we successfully bid on a two group rancilio, ($770, what a BARGAIN!) which, from the pictures, appears to be an s20 model. And it is red!  I realise most of that is probably jargon to all of you. What it means is, it is a ‘vintage’ machine (ex-cafe), looks sexy, makes two cups at a time and will outlast both of us. (If you’re checking the link, it’s the red one down the bottom of the page, but it is manual dosage, not automatic).  There is also a dude who services coffee machines in town, so we can get it done at home and not have to drag the 70kg thing anywhere.  One other major benefit is that the best cafe in town uses the exact model and are willing to give me (free) lessons on using it. Maybe I’ll become a barista bitch! We are still trying to organise insurance for shipping (it has to come from Melbourne) but still hope to have it by next weekend.  It will DEFINITELY be up and running for Christmas.  Now we just need to get a good deal on a top grinder.  I know I want a mini mazzer or a Macap M4, but haven’t seen any secondhand.  If anyone hears anything, give me a yell.  We’ll be happy to pay anything under $500.
What else is new.  Um, we have MIL visiting next weekend, which should be fine.  I’m going to Perth to shop on the 7th and 8th of December, because I haven’t been since August and there are some essential items running very low in the house, mainly my Jurlique skincare products, nice Dandaragan extra virgin olive oil and assorted gourmet fare that is unavailable here.  I normally wouldn’t venture into the city so close to the Christmas period, but needs must.
This weekend I am going to set about making 30 jars of preserved lemon to sell at the local markets.  When a few jars sat around at the Natural Therapies centre last month waiting to go to the Cidery (I made some for my friend, the cook there), everyone who walked by the office said “are they for sale?” so I have taken that as a sign there is interest about and will try my luck capitalising on it.  If it goes well, I may expand.  I’m going to try and come up with an idea for a label design and have my artist friend execute it.  The name is Devil’s Hollow, and I want to use a bastardised image of the evil pixie that is on my brass doorknocker.  But I haven’t thought much past that.  Any ideas welcomed…
Hmm, I think I’m done.  Exam study has taken over so much of my brain there has been room for little else.  I have read Nicola Barker’s Darkmans, which I thoroughly enjoyed, and also DBC Pierre’s Ludmilla’s Broken English – not as good, but satisfactory.   Have begun, as of this morning, William Gibson’s Pattern Recognition and can’t wait to get right into it.  In fact, I may just slope off and have a quick read before DH comes back from the hospy.
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Short Sharp end to the month

Posted on October 31, 2008 by Panama Hat

Have spent too long in front of the computer today synthesising information for exam revision. How I hate it. 20 days to go. Not, of course, that I’ll be spending all of them revising. Oh no. Some many hours I will be spending on housework, gardening, shopping, my various jobs and exercise pursuits, kooky alternative therapy appointments, haircuts, and the big one: optometrist.

Yup. I’m doing that old person thing where you hold the document/can label/shampoo bottle a bit further out in front of your face so you don’t have to squint. And my eyes are burning after a few hours in front of the computer. I think it’s a sign. I’ve been putting it off for a month now, but I booked the appointment this afternoon. Next Friday, after my haircut. Sigh. I did so want to make it to forty before I got the prescription glasses…

Post exam treat: reflexology session half hour after exam finishes. Can’t think of a better way to relax (ok, I can always have that nice cold beer AFTER the massage!)

Must go now and rest eyes. Hope you’ve all had a wonderful month, and happy Halloween for those of you celebrating that today!

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Late October gallimaufry

Posted on October 24, 2008 by Panama Hat

A day all to myself, that rarest of occasions to which I look forward with earnest, has fallen into my lap. Here I sit, driven indoors by the howling gale outside, and the unthinkable has happened: I'm not sure what I want to write about!

 
Perhaps some brief updates are in order:
 
The wedding and Walpole trip were fantastic, DH and I had a relaxing break albeit with a slightly tumultuous beginning when the car overheated a half hour into the trip and we had to drive slowly home, unpack, repack the other car, and start off all over again. However we arrived at the wedding venue at 2.58 for the 3pm kickoff, so all was well.
 
The close-friends-and-acquaintances BBQ was held at our place last weekend during gorgeous, perfect spring weather, which presented our garden work and revegetation of extraneous land to best effect. The pink boronia was showing off unashamedly, and the heady scent regularly wafted over on the breeze. We had close to 30 adults and about 10 kids for the larger part of 6 hours all trooping around the place and it reminded us how well suited this house is to holding harmonious gatherings. (The trampoline especially is a draw card and better at entertaining the kids than a TV). If we spent less time actually gardening we could host more often! I'm thinking, oh, maybe, 2015?
 
The Injidup trip was cancelled due to predicted bad weather that never eventuated, but we visited my parents instead and helped out on their massive project (house build) for a day. DH picked up the flu from my Dad (not happy, Jan) and succumbed just in time to miss out on a lucrative day's work (moonlighting) that would have bought him a piece of electronic equipment he's been hanging out for, so that sucked. I almost got the flu but my immune system (perhaps assisted by the early winter flu jab?) came up trumps and after two panadol and bed by 7.30pm I have awoken this morning full of health and vigour. Yay!
 
DH went to Perth yesterday anyway, regardless of viraemia, to record some music with his pals. I have the house (and bed!) to myself until Saturday night, what a treat. It happens so rarely that I forget what to do with myself. An 8.30 reflexology appointment this morning with Wren was conducive to a relaxing start, and then I pottered around town accumulating wares, chatting with passersby, finally collected the last trays of seedlings from my friend's greenhouse and headed home for a mid morning cup of tea and a crumpet.
 
Having duly finished both, and been bodily buffeted by, and thus persuaded (at least twice), not to bother planting out in the abovementioned breeze, I have instead perused the Guardian Weekly, made myself a cup of cocoa and sat down at the computer to write. Such luxury! (And only partly clouded by the guilt of knowing I have an assignment due in two weeks, the exam in just under four - I promise I will attend to all of that NEXT week...).
 
And now I have remembered I want to mention the gardening for wildlife workshop I attended last Sunday at Tortoiseshell Farm. Spending a full day in the company of 44 other avid environmentalists, being informatively entertained by three (locally) semi-famous presenters who really knew their stuff, was totally my idea of a good time. I learned a great deal about both form and function, and was so inspired to get on with creating yet more projects in my garden, I poured myself an icy cold gin and tonic the moment I got home (on dusk) and took a leisurely walk through the backyard perusing options for siting the new frog garden; fish-and-watercress pond; water-tank-enclosed no-dig-gardens; and my mid storey shrubs, oblivious to the mosquitos molesting my ankles.
 
Sabrina Hahn (Gardening Q&A ABC radio), Josh Byrne (Gardening Australia) and Johnny Prefumo (the frog doctor) all had a great deal of wisdom and knowledge to impart - I took eleven pages of notes! Perhaps I should write up a few snippets for the local 'small landholder's group' newsletter. After I have written up the espalier-orchard project...

Most of all, I am keen to start angle-grinding work on the two semi-rusted out old steel water tanks we have lying around, and turn them into quick, no fuss garden beds. I have finally decided on placement for two of them, so maybe next weekend DH and I can tackle that. Though I'm sure he's going to want to finish stage one of the shade house (getting the shade cloth up) first. Which WOULD be done as I write, but for the inconveniently placed flu strike. At least we got the major re-potting done before he collapsed in a heap, green as I'd ever seen him look, with a temperature that went right off the end of my ovultation thermometer.

 
What I have been neglecting: my writing and my Artist Way dates & exercises. But the outside of the house is de-cobwebbed and most of the windows washed. All the linen and towels are clean and I defrosted the freezer yesterday. The filing is up to date. I will do the ironing today. Is this procrastination? I think the answer is yes. I will set aside some time before my shiatsu session at 4pm (I TOLD you I was having a self indulgent day!) to do some creative work. Perhaps go visit an art exhibition in town, have a coffee and do some writing at the cafe. Nice.
 
I have begun attending a fortnightly meditation class held by the local cranio-sacral practitioner. The first couple have struck me as fairly 'out there' experiences interspersed with her banging the gong, the drum, howling at the moon or all three. But at the most recent session I let my judgement of the extraneous go, and found myself in a more deeply relaxed meditation than I have ever before experienced. Also, I find I have not been able, thus far, to achieve the depth of meditation on my own that a class offers me. I can't wait to go again, however the upcoming session will coincide with a rare visit from my Grandparents, so I shall have to wait until 18th November for the next opportunity.
 
What else is on offer in this part of the world right now: a local person has begun an 8 part series of Tibetan Pulsing classes. I have already said (perhaps not here) that I will try any and all 'voodoo' until the 31st of December 2008 and then my books are closed to paying for anything but evidence based medicine in order to achieve a successful pregnancy. So bring it on. Having made that commitment, the Universe seems to be throwing the craziest stuff my way, but I am saying yes to all of it until the year ends. I missed this week's T.P. session due to having to reschedule my tutoring class, and next week I have an appointment with a kinesiologist (see?) in Bunbury. But I WILL go Tibetan Pulsing, and I will report back!!
 
Tomorrow is the annual Blackwood Marathon, in which I will neither participate, nor spectate, but will attend the post-marathon party hosted by my greenhouse-sharing friend. ("Who will help me EAT the bread? Said the little red hen?"). She calls it doing the 'catering leg' of the marathon, and claims it to be harder than any of the other categories. I think she is right. Her leg certainly requires more endurance.
 
Coming up: The Blues Festival: 7th,8th,9th November. I'd like to hope I've managed a post before this event, but at the current rate, I can't be certain.

Oh yes, and the Femara update: so far, not bad. Didn't get the bursting ovaries this cycle, nor did the mushy brain affect me quite so much. Temp chart suggested I ovulated day 15, opk didn't disagree. Temp also didn't dive and spike as dramatically as the last two cycles, which makes me wonder if my ovulation wasn't as 'strong'. Don't feel pregnant (today is cd18), which likely means I am not, but I'd be happy with a miracle and wouldn't mind being wrong in this instance. It would be great if my lp was extended past 10 days, but again, not holding my breath. I'm also giving Femara til the end of the year and then if I do anything medical after that time it will be one last IVF with my own eggs, then on to donor. But I'm not even thinking about that right now.

Right now I'm thinking about my Christmas list and have I got present ideas for everyone I have to buy for this year? Almost. Plus quite a few already purchased (and some even sent - as can be attested to by my UK friend who received her package at the beginning of her summer holidays!) The Christmas pudding is made and awaits monthly feeding of brandy, tucked away in the pantry. (Feel free to call me anal but I don't see why a perfectly good opportunity to relax and take it easy for a week or so should be spoiled by all the last minute rushing around. I mean, it's not as if it's some big surprise that Christmas is coming, and you can generally count on it being the same time each year). It has been decided by the Powers That Be, that Christmas day 2008 will be spent with the in-laws this year (ya gotta do it sometime); Boxing day and beyond with my family, at the coast. But as to who gets the pudding - I think I'll auction it off to the highest bidder.

The wind shows no signs of quietening down, so I think I'll take my writing materials and head into town for that coffee and an inspection of the latest exhibition. Why not?

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

The real me

Posted on October 10, 2008 by Panama Hat


My not-so-new look, finally revealed.
Posted in Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Femara is kicking my butt

Posted on October 10, 2008 by Panama Hat

So, today is cd4.  Tomorrow I begin my third cycle with femara, taking those innocuous looking tablets from cd5 (Saturday 11th Oct) to cd9 (Wednesday 15th October).  The first two cycles, obviously, have been unsuccessful.  The Dr mentioned my cycle could be longer: ovulate later and lengthen out my luteal phase.  Ha.  I used to ovulate on day 17.  Last cycle I ovulated day 15 or even 14, and my luteal phase was either the same old 10 days it has always been, or an alarming 9 days.  Does anyone out there know how long I should give this drug before assuming it is not going to change my cycle length?

I do it because I am looking forward to the opportunity for a strong ovulation and perhaps the chance of twins. What I am not looking forward to: the wooziness; the loss of memory and problem solving ability (both of which have deteriorated over the past two months and have not returned after I stopped taking the pills); feeling like I am almost drunk enough that the room is about to start spinning out of control at any moment, while at the same time feeling thick headed as if I smoked way too much the night before.  I am not looking forward to having to function socially while in this condition, feeling like all I want to do is go and have a good lie down.  I’m not looking forward to the part where my ovaries swell almost as painfully as during an IVF cycle.  And I’m particularly not looking forward to the part where my period comes bang on time, with the same old 10 day luteal phase (that the drug has not lengthened in the least) after a murderous-rage-inducing PMS, and I’ve gone through the whole thing for absolutely no gain.

I have a wedding to attend tomorrow afternoon, and I’d like to be able to enjoy it more than I think I will be able.  I’ll be in bed by 11pm when the drugs kick in precisely 6 hrs after I take them.  I need to say this: I really resent this crap interfering with my life.
My writing has suffered over the past two weeks, while I have been attempting to get the garden organised enough so we can safely leave it for the five days we will be gone.  DH was out there this afternoon, post-work, finishing off reticulation and moving pots so they’ll be covered by an automatic sprinkler.  Because we’ve been too busy to get the shade house constructed, having spent all our available moments on finishing the fruit orchard.  
And I have busted a gut to get the summer seedlings in this week, which has also eaten into my study time.  Yes, I am feeling a tad overwhelmed.
However, DH is on a two week break as of tonight.  We will go to yoga class in the morning (having packed tonight), collect our neighbour’s eggs and asparagus and head off to Denmark (no, not Europe!) by 11am.  The wedding is at 3, the reception at 5.30.  Sunday we will backtrack to Walpole where DH’s colleague owns a holiday cottage on the edge of a national park, and we will hole up there with no phone, internet or tv, until Wednesday.  We will go bush walking and admire the wildflowers.  We will wander along the beach and possibly even take a dip.  I am taking my crayons, coloured pencils, writing journal and Artist’s Way book, some novels, a sudoku and crossword book, and a scrabble board.  Oh and my binoculars and bird book.  And maybe my yoga mat.  And I am going to forget about study and the garden and all the household chores left unattended.  I’m going to rustle up some gourmet dinners and snacks and maybe have an afternoon nap or two.  And thanks to being on femara for the whole trip, I’m going to be having some early nights…

Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Comments

Posted on September 26, 2008 by Panama Hat

When I began this blog, it was during National Comment Leaving Month, and because I was commenting on an average of five blogs a day, I was getting about 7-10 comments on a lot of my own posts. That dropped off dramatically when I stopped participating in the event, and I realised how much I missed the commenting.

Although this blog is primarily for maintenance of my mental health and personal development, I have come to admit how much I enjoy writing for an audience, especially an audience who give me feedback. So a big thank you to all those who drop by, and let me know they have, by leaving a message behind. I love to hear what you think about a topic, your experience of similar situations, your take on some idea or notion I’m thrashing around. I am always tremendously excited when I find a new comment has been added, especially if it is an older post, because it gives me an excuse to go back there and revisit my thoughts and musings.
It’s a funny old world, the blog world, because it includes people you have never met face to face. And that raises all sorts of questions about friendship, what comprises it, etiquette of conducting same over the internet, etc. You can’t see facial expression or body language. If you go leave a comment on every post on a *friend*’s blog, (even though they may only get two ‘commenters’ for theirs and you are one of them!) and they haven’t left a single one on yours, are they giving you the cold shoulder? How do you know? How do you interpret such gestures in this cyber world? What about people to whom you send a link to your blog, but you never hear from them? I would never nag them, but it does make me feel a bit dissed, I have to say.

I think it is much easier here to make assumptions, take offence, take things the wrong way, than with regular friendships. For me, anyway, I guess I feel fine about checking out “what was your intention when you did X? Because I felt like…” with a friend IRL, but I definitely wouldn’t broach the subject with any of my online friends. Some of whom I feel very close to and have ‘known’ now for years. Why is that?

Although I have been hanging out on a couple of forums for a few years, I am a relative noob and stick mainly to my specialist infertility groups. As for the blog world, I consider myself a total novice. A few of my IRL friends have them and I love to read theirs (and comment!) But mainly my blog reading consists of those writings offered by people I have met online through my forums, or through their links to other people in similar situations. Because I’m so isolated, perhaps I don’t have a clue what should really be going on. I don’t know. Is there a whole lot of stuff I’m unaware of, missing?
I’m not sure where I am going with all of this. Maybe formulating some notion that comments help to develop those friendships, perhaps. Make it easier to feel connections with cyber-friends. Give you feedback that they care, take an interest outside of the forum arrangement. Comments are an arena in which you can share your cyber-friend’s life, and more of yourself, when you respond to their thoughts.
I like developing and maintaining relationships. I spend a lot of time engaging in them. Perhaps too much time, who knows? What happens for those bloggers who have hundreds, and sometimes over a thousand comments on every post? Do they feel as though they ought to respond to them all and are guilty for not being able? Or do they see the comment as a one-way event: no obligation to reciprocate?
For those of you who have blogs: what does a comment left on your post mean to you?

Mine mean a lot to me. They mean you care enough to take the time not only to read what is going on for me, but to express your reaction to it. They mean I get to develop an audience for whom I am writing (besides myself). They mean I get to ‘meet’ new people and have the opportunity of checking out their lives and philosophies. They mean encouragement, motivation and stimulation. They bring a smile to my face and a cheer to my heart. From the bottom of which I thank you all, and coax you to continue.

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Creation

Posted on September 24, 2008 by Panama Hat

Ah Blog world, I have missed you.  And now, here I am, seated at desk.  The familiar clack of keys under my fingers that have so recently grasped a pen and paper that they are unsure how to move smoothly, how to glide as they once did.

I have been writing.  Just not writing here.  I have been reading Julia Cameron’s The Right to Write, and I have been doing my Artist’s Way and they both involve longhand exercises.  So my writing time has gone to those pursuits.  I’ve decided to increase the time I devote to writing during the week, and to give myself permission to blog as much as I like without having to write any of these thoughts out longhand first.  Julia does advocate the pen because she believes that faster is not necessarily better and that slower and pen give you some sort of connection to your heart/soul that typing cannot.  I have to thank her for getting me this far. My writer is peeking out of the closet and I know I’d be writing less if it wasn’t for her books. So I respect where she’s coming from and am prepared to honour that.  To which end I have pledged an hour a day, long hand, in my notebook.  I began today.
This week, I am on week 6 of the Artist’s way and it is about Abundance.  Not only financial, but in all senses of the term.  Looking for and accepting abundance into your life.  Noticing when it appears.  I’m enjoying it.  Giving myself permission to take the day off and just write, for example.  To say, ok I’ll do the hour longhand but I’m also going to give myself free reign and do some blogging on the computer too.  Loosening up the rules and restrictions.
A while ago I saw an alternative therapist who suggested I create a heart space in my home, a place just for me, where I could be creative or meditate etc.  A safe, quiet place.  Just mine.  I thought about rearranging a couple of rooms downstairs but the more I planned it the less right it felt, becoming a major nightmare involving heavy lifting, lots of chaos and the end result would not have been perfect.  And then I had the idea of cordoning off a piece of our bedroom.  It is a huge room (6m x 6m approx) and the north facing right corner is unused, save for a telescope, chair and a plant.  I packed up the telescope, moved the plant and sat down on a red velvet cushion atop a Japanese straw mat, with my mug of cocoa and looked out through the wall of windows that go right to the floor.  Magnificent.  Perfect.  The violent wind gusting the dirty white clouds along so briskly you could see the underside of the leaves of the trees. Howling, then dying away, only to return and move straight into another crescendo. The sky darkened over the hour I sat there.  Rain is on the way.
There are plans afoot to further develop the space for writing.  I have an old single school desk and chair, which are currently in the shed awaiting restoration.  Last weekend I began by sanding back, and this weekend I will start on the undercoat for the metal portion.  The orange colour is cool, but I have in mind a sage/mint/pistachio green and I feel I ought to go with my instinct.  A month ago I saw some colourful saris in a shop selling Moroccan & Indian wares.  I wanted to buy one but had no use for it.  Now I see how perfect a couple would be, to hang from the rafters and make my space into a little room of its own.  Curtains, desk, chair.  Writing book. Pen.  
I am going to treat my write to a gorgeous, fabulous, no expense spared pen.  He’s always coveted such an item, but I’ve never let myself spend the money on him.  (No idea why my writer is a he, but he definitely is!  Well this one is, anyway.  Perhaps there is another one in there too…)  Seemed too frivolous a purchase.  Such outlay for something so non- constructive. Except, I now realise that in the true sense of the word, writing is totally constructive.  It’s all you do, construct words, sentences, ideas.  Perhaps I meant unproductive.  But no, you definitely produce something when you write.  So what it boils down to is this: I love writing, and I don’t allow myself to do it very much.  I try to make out that just loving the act of writing is not a good enough reason to spend time and money doing it.  Writing comes last, after all the chores are done.  Pudding only after you have eaten all your greens.  It doesn’t get the dishes done, the bed made, the food cooked, the shopping done.  It doesn’t earn money.  It doesn’t plant trees or weed or keep my body fit.  Somewhere along the line I learnt I can’t justify pleasure for the sake of it.  This strikes me not only as sad, but criminal.
A conversation along these lines was had yesterday between me and my dear friend who recently miscarried.  We are both doing the Artist’s Way, both struggling along on a similar journey through infertility and loss, both trying to find some peace and meaning and opportunities to develop a more nurturing attitude towards ourselves.  I haven’t seen her for two weeks.  I’ve been busy.  Still planting trees in the orchard (up to 25 now) and laying paths in there, pruning and tying the trees to their future espaliered shape.  Busy planting summer crops, exercising, fitting in my property management jobs and cleaning house for C.  Busy planning lessons and tutoring my reading charge.  Walking, cycling, aerobics, pump class, quiz night.  Finding time for Artist’s Way exercises, morning pages daily, Artist’s date weekly. Trying to get an assignment finished and study reading up to date.  Wasting precious time befuddled by five days of Femara. The weeks just fly by.
Then yesterday I got a text saying ‘catch up for a cuppa?’  I had planned to spend the afternoon reading study material but thought the better of it.  Stopped my saboteur before he had a chance to stifle that opportunity for spontaneity, some space in my week.  I scheduled the cuppa for 3pm and still managed to finish the first draft of my assignment, collect an order of berry plants from the tree nursery and mail a birthday present off to a friend.  But the 2 hour conversation that followed was probably the most productive event of the day.  She read me some writing she’d been doing over the past couple of weeks.  She had barely left the house. Had nothing to show for it, she said, “I’ve just mainly been writing.  It’s not something I have ever done before, but I’ve got back into the Artist’s Way and felt like I just needed to write.”  So much stuff has come up for her about her latest miscarriage, and the past four years of grief and loss and waiting.  She’s never written about any of it before.  And is finding it so therapeutic.
What really struck me was how she’d allowed herself that endless time and space just to follow her heart and write, and stuff the rest.  I was so jealous!  I told her how I’d love to take more time to write and as I talked more about it, she encouraged me.  It was clear to her, she said, how important that was for me to do.  And that I had been starving my writer.  And that writing was so connected to my heart and my sense of joy that effectively I was starving myself of joy.
And that was the key realisation for me.  Starving myself of joy.  I have looked high and low for joy for a very long time.  All over the place have I searched.  And there it was, all along, as the good books say it is: within me.  And I had been keeping it under lock and key.  Of my own volition I have been cutting myself off from joy.  Sheer madness.
So here is my new lesson.  I don’t know what form my writing will take.  I don’t know if it will ever be useful or published or recognised or even coherent.  I trust that the purpose is not in the content, it is in the process.  Because through the process of writing I am allowing my true self to be created. And from creating myself, who knows what will flow?
Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Reading Deprivation Week

Posted on September 11, 2008 by Panama Hat

So here’s the irony: my last post was about being swamped with reading material, and this one is about week 4 of the Artist’s way, in which the main event is, you guessed it: reading deprivation.  Yes, that’s right.  No reading for a week.  I’m not sure if writing is ok because you are sort of reading it as you go along, but what the hell, I’m doing it, so there.  Sue me.

One of the main effects reading deprivation has had on me is to free up about 7 hours this week due to the fact that I can’t study.  What a shame.  Luckily I had the first part of an assignment finished before reading deprivation came along, though, or I might have been a bit more anxious.  The fact that I DO rather need to get along with my world of study also means I have been a lot more diligent in completing my Artist’s Way weekly exercises, so as not to get stuck in week 4 for longer than necessary!  And frankly, I have needed the incentive.  Week One lasted about 2.5 weeks, week 2 lasted at least 3 weeks and week 3 lasted probably 5 weeks, but perhaps more, I have not been tempted to read back.  Week 4 exercises have all been completed by Thursday of the same week.  In fact, I actually began the week Monday night instead of Sunday.  So.  Amazing what the right kind of motivation will do for you.
The Sopranos have featured a lot more heavily in my life this week, filling in time of an evening when DH is busy with whatever else (soccer, chess tournament, jamming/recording with the lads) which I am sure is not what the author had in mind at all.  To send me from the arms of reading material into the jaws of the television.  No, I think the point was rather to find something creative to do.  Which I have done, throughout the days: I spent 2 hours on Tuesday making greeting cards, and a further 2 hrs in the garden planting flowers etc.  But frankly, at the end of a long day I don’t want to be constructive.  I just want to be entertained.  I’m sure I would be better served by meditating for the hour and a half I watch t.v.  But then how would I find the time to catch up on the latest exploits of Dr Who/Tony Soprano/Dr House/etc et al?
Right now I am so tired I can’t even be bothered watching TV which is saying something.  I would be asleep, but you know, it’s Thursday night, which means the music is LOUD below my bedroom.  I’m tempted just to put the earplugs in and not care less, but they are recording, which means snippets of the same thing over and over again and that really does my head in.
What else I have noticed whilst NOT reading at the table when I am eating breakfast or lunch: DH has his head in his laptop until (breakfast) he goes to work or (lunch) goes back to work. Checking emails, having his chess or scrabble moves, writing emails, checking the stock market movement, facebooking,  Whatever.  Probably not all that more reprehensible than reading a book or the newspaper at the table, they are equally antisocial habits.  I just happen to notice his more now I am not indulging in my own escapism.  Interesting.
The orchard has really taken shape over the last fortnight and I would love to write about it but I think fatigue has beaten me.  Maybe next post, with some pictures.  We have 22 trees in the ground, 5 more trees to plant this weekend, and about 7 more to order, plus the berries.  And then they just have to GROW.  Fortunately we have had a modicum of rain over the past two days which has allowed a hiatus on hand watering them.  I am hoping DH manages to find the time to deck the area out with reticulation soon – easier said than done of course – trench digging and the like all takes time especially when the soil is hard clay.  And you only have about 8 spare hours a week.  But bless him, he’ll wear himself into the ground just like his wife does, and it will get done before summer hits us too hard.  Then he can get to work completing the shade house….
As for me, I have a large day looming ahead, wherein I go to Busselton for a hair appointment, collect some pills from the pharmacy (ever hopeful folate 5mg; fish oil) and catch up with my Dad; drop off 2 seasons worth of Sopranos (evil, begone from my home!) and purchase a new selection of plants for our fish tank.  Upon my return I shall (probably) find my weekend house-guest has arrived and I shall don my apron and set about manufacturing several types of pizza (from scratch – though I have made some of the toppings like slow roasted pumpkin/tomatoes and capsicum ahead of time) and then commence creating an almond and quince paste tart for dessert.  Thankfully I have already made the lavender and honey ice cream to serve it with (see: what to do with too many eggs).  And the quince paste was made months ago, so you can put aside thoughts of me stirring endlessly for 5 hrs at the stove and wondering how on earth I am going to manage it all.  This task has previously been completed.  
Cleverly, DH is off to a buck’s night, so he’ll be no use at all.  And probably not much use the following day either.  I’m thinking of just cracking out the pomegranate liqueur and getting the house guest to construct his own damn pizzas.  The hell with it!
Ooh, stirrings below suggest my salvation is at hand.  Bed beckons.  I can but oblige.  Sweet bliss.  Oh temporary oblivion, how I love you.
Posted in food, reading deprivation, sleep | 1 Comment