Monday, 13 March 2017


"You haven't been writing," said my dear friend Christine, "so I've been going back and reading some of your old writing." I'm so humbled by this confession. So here I sit, having just showered at 12.30 on a public holiday. A beautiful day that I've taken little enough notice of. I've showered and dressed and now I'm sitting here and wondering what to write about. I love to write. It is joy. It is relief. It is celebration of life to me. Yet I've been cut off from this 'life-blood' because of life itself. How strange. Things I as yet choose not to write of. A conundrum. 

Perhaps this simple act of committing to write something will begin to stir my creative energy. I choose to trust that opening myself up just a little will allow my veins to carry this decision to each of my cells and bring healing and joy back to what has been crusty and shrivelling for too long. My life has been consumed for too long with itching and scaling and shedding and peeling and flaking and moisturising and weeping and fear that this affliction will be upon my skin forever. Yet I challenge that belief knowing that I, for years, was free of it. Eczema. It fills my waking moments. Every thought, every action is underlayed with constant irritation or pain. I grit my teeth and smile. Or cry.

I have allowed this to dull the pleasures I usually find in life. Is this depression? I don't know. My wellspring of joy is still there. It is there but it sits deep. It feels hard to reach. But the great thing is that I know it is still there. It needs me to nurture it. Anxiety creeps in. It was overwhelming when I went through the 'change of life'. Every breath a torment taken through a strange burning weight on my upper torso. For months. Perhaps years. I am strong. I got through that time. Now I am mostly free from my old fears. Or my hormones have settled enough that anxiety is a rare visitor and not a constant companion. Thank all things good for that. But it is back now. And I am tired. Of being uncomfortable.

You know, I had a bit of a revelation the other day. I realised I have been so focused on everything that has happened to bring the eczema back into my life. It started three years ago with a simple Asian dish containing prawns. Prawns are a trigger for me. But I didn't want to upset or disappoint the person who made their special dish for me. So I ate it. Of course, it was delicious. I enjoyed every mouthful. But it set the scene for three years of suffering. Because, strange though it may seem, after that it was one thing after another that seemed to not quite allow me to heal and be strong again. It's a little crazy. What is the lesson? Why did I allow this to go on for so long? And it led me then to consider, this revelation, what was I doing differently in all the years I was free of eczema. I will go back to doing those things and slowly my skin, and my life, will improve. Makes sense. 

It occurred to me that I have spent much of my life pleasing (or at least, trying to please) others. I have said things that were what I thought I was meant to say in certain circumstances. I feel so much like an actor on the stage of life that it sometimes seems utterly surreal. The end of my sixth decade on this planet, in this life, is fast approaching. Eighteen months away. And I feel as though I need to stop doing that. Saying what seems right. Doing what seems right. I feel as though I need to slow down enough to ask myself what I want to say and do. I need to listen to myself. My soul. And not the scripts that have been fed into me over my lifetime. I'm tired. Of filling a role. And yet even saying that feels somehow terribly wrong. But I know it's not. We've been duped.

This confession. Of weakness or struggle or not coping. It is barely the tip of the iceberg, but to be writing is good. I do not need you to know all of what has transpired. I just need you to know that I am back, albeit a little battered and scattered, ready to nurture my soul back into wholeness. Talking to you is part of that. Baring my soul, tortured though it is feeling right now, buried under a thick layer of what might be helplessness (but I am not sure yet). It is hard to do. I am scared. But I am also tired. And I need to find my energy for life again. 

Writing from a point of joy and wonder is what I love to do. It feels like I am gifting others with the same excitement I usually feel for life. Oh. My. God. It is so very wonderful. To be alive. To be me. I am grateful to have this experience of life and to know that in sharing my experience, it can help someone else to understand their own. How precious that is to me.

There is not much more for me to say right at this moment. I feel overwhelmed with my lack of doing. Yet I have not the energy to do. My sink sits full of dishes awaiting my attention. My old car waits to be sold. A generator waits for attention to get it going. I have not the tools to do it. I have a buyer for it. This is good. But he wants to see it going. Of course. Anxiety will leave as I get these things done and free myself from my list of to-dos. My hands play on the keyboard with their raw fingers and tragic appearance. This is what they want to do. Healing is mine. Wholeness is mine. I breathe and go on. The fog is thinning. Soon I will be able to see my path again.

Always with love

Soon with joy


Saturday, 7 May 2016

Hands-On Happiness

Today was a day of treasures for me. Firstly I got myself up to town this morning, full of excitement, to meet up with a woman I had known 46 years ago at school. We have been in touch on Facebook for the past few years and as she lives in the United Kingdom, we have exchanged snail mail and had a few 'chats' online and that has been lovely. I knew she was visiting mainland Australia and hoped to come and visit Tasmania one day and then suddenly, out of the blue, came a message that she was coming to Hobart for the day with her sister, brother-in-law and one of their grandchildren. They planned to visit Salamanca Markets and would I be able to meet up for lunch. How exciting! 

So yes, today we met up for the first time in 46 years and it was wonderful. She is a treasure and I feel very lucky to have such a beautiful and caring friend. We shared stories about our lives, of course, and laughed and smiled at some memories...but best of all, we didn't run out of things to talk about and we'll be able to catch up again when she returns with her husband later this year. New friends are silver, old friends are gold. There is something precious about rekindling friendships from the past. Shared history and all that. It's really nice.

Too soon the time came for her to leave, but I had kind of made a plan to take myself on an artist's date to the museum with what remained of the afternoon. Julia Cameron speaks of the importance of a weekly artist's date to help unleash creativity, so I'm all for that! After a hurried farewell to the travellers who were heading up to Richmond on their way to the airport, I wandered over to the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Ah, what a glorious place it is. Another priceless treasure that I have not visited in recent times. 

The cavernous interior, accessed via almost tunnel-like timber clad corridor, expands upwards and draws one into its mysteries with the beckoning of sight and curious sound. It's delectable to the senses. How can a person not be enthralled? It holds treasures too...and you never know what you might find! I had remembered hearing or reading something about a patterns exhibition and being a teacher of young children, patterns are of infinite interest. I was thrilled to find it was still showing and couldn't wait to see just what it might be. It was wonderful. More than I could have imagined. A feast of fun!

There were a number of people enjoying the exhibits and I asked them if I might photograph their hands to show what they were doing. I have included them here and must note that each individual was thoroughly engrossed in what they were doing and hardly paused to give me the okay. Hopefully they will look in some time and find their hands here. Hands-on happiness was what I saw. It was lovely to see and although I didn't make or do, I shared in my own way by recording it with a few snaps. Joyful time it was.
Collage on disc to go on spinning disc wall
Another collage disc underway
And one more. The discs could be put on a turn-table similar to a record player to see how the patterns looked when they were spinning. Many were mounted on vertical spinning turn-tables on the wall. It was pretty spectacular!
Two more sets of busy hands creating pattern art
There were calico bandannas ready to stencil with bright patterns
More hands working on another bandanna
The lovely Museum staff member who showed me how to make the amazing kaleidoscopes work. How fascinating they were, all along the wall and all different, changing as she moved her hand across the sensor.
This was part of a huge collage. I think I'd enjoy doing something like this one day!
The designer of the exhibition. How wonderful it must be to give people permission to play in this way!
Patterns in nature were not overlooked. There were many more beetles sporting vibrant metallic patterns as well as less gaudy examples such as spots on quolls to help camouflage them at night in the moonlight
 I'm not going to show you any more as if you are in Tasmania it will be much more fun for you to make your way along to the exhibition and have a look and a play for yourself. I'm so glad I went as I came away inspired and looking at patterns in a whole new way!

Right next door to the Pattern Bandits was another exhibition that drew me to wander through. Migrant Women...that should be interesting, I thought. I enjoyed looking at furniture and home decorating reminiscent of my early childhood and teen years. Eventually I found my way to a film booth and sat entranced for an hour listening to the stories of women who migrated to Tasmania during the 1940s, 50s & 60s. They had travelled as young women from England, Italy, Greece, Turkey and Poland. 

Their stories were fascinating and as they described the photos that they had carried carefully to their new lives in Australia, and those taken during the years after often to be sent home to families in their countries of origin, I noticed parallels between them and the photographs carefully hoarded in my own family. The familiarity was somehow shocking and comforting all at once. It gave me new insight into how it might have been for my own parents who migrated back in the early 60s. More treasures. Knowings. Understanding unfolding.

I remind myself that I can find treasures in all sorts of places when I take the time to go looking; to stop and watch and listen. It has been a most satisfying day. 

Where do you find treasure in your life? Are there places not too far from home that you've been meaning to visit, explore or revisit? I'd encourage you to get to it. Life is short. It is also pretty amazing if amazing is what you're looking for.

Oh, and if you're a local, do get into the TMAG - you won't be disappointed! ... and it's FREE!

With love

Kerry x

ps I did buy a that told all about the patterns used in the exhibition...marked down to $9.95! A treasure and a bargain to boot!

Sunday, 1 May 2016

Sharing Something Really Important

I've never done this before, but reading this article this morning, I found that the author has put my heart on paper. So I am sharing it here. 

In the Absence of a Village, Mothers Struggle Most

Every day the struggle is there. For a long time I have been saying that our society with it's insular family house, two parents, x children, a dog and a cat...where they have only each other most of the time; it is unworkable. The stresses from trying to manage alone are overwhelming. It's a fairly lengthy article, but well worth a read.

Sharing with very much love to all the people out there who might not even realise it is a village they need. This is to let you know that you are not a failure but have been doing life in an impossible situation.

Be gentle with yourself. 

Find a village or make one. 

Everyone needs you.

And you need them.

Kerry x

Saturday, 30 April 2016

Nearly Didn't Get There...

How often do you mean to go somewhere or do something or make plans and other things get in the way or you end up too tired to make the effort? I had a bit of that going on here in my life last night. I visited my folks on the way home from work and had a natter and a cuppa with them and by the time I got home and had dinner and sat down (I think that might be where the problem occurred), the thought of going out again was suddenly most unattractive.

There was a jam session going down at our local sailing club and it sounded like it might be a fun night and I know quite a few people who get along there. But Friday nights are like...phew! End of the week. Time to relax. And mostly I don't get out of the door to do that. I stay home. Which is cool. I enjoy my time doing what I do at home. But you know, it's good for the soul to get out now and then.Anyway, I had decided that I couldn't muster the energy. 

Checked my phone about quarter to nine and there was a text message from a friend. Where are you? Oh. The message had been sent an hour prior. Would they be winding up by now? Was it still worth going? Would I look silly walking in so late? Could I be bothered?? What could I wear? It's been raining - I might slip over. You will probably know the kind of stuff that was running about in my head and trying to make it as difficult as possible to go and as easy as possible to stay right where I was. I fought it. I quickly changed. You look fat. Said the voice. I am fat. I retorted. So what. Let's go. I added red beads. They always make me feel better. They are happy beads that I paid a buck for in an op shop in town I did my first year teaching. I was broke as broke can be...but I had a buck and I liked those beads. They are kind of proof that things can always get better.

Dressed in basic black with red beads, I embarked on the five minute drive. I know, how slack can you get? Five minutes away and I nearly didn't get there. I nearly didn't make the effort. I nearly didn't bother. I nearly let myself talk me out of it. The drive was swift and uneventful. I noticed as I approached the venue that people seemed to be about so that was a good sign. They weren't packing up just yet. I know, you might think it's a little mad of me to think they might have been packing up just after nine, but this is a pretty small town!

Car parked, I grabbed my torch. I had five dollars in one zippered pocket and the car keys in another. I was ready. And in I went.

Ah, I tell ya, it was sooo worth it. Friend who sent the text message spotted me and her face lit up and arms spread wide to welcome me. Isn't it worth getting out of your own way to get a great hug from a mate? YES! Because from there the night just got better. I thought I might only be out for half an hour or so...but the night rolled on and I had more fun than you can poke a stick at.

The music was amateur but fabulous. Fun, joyful, plentiful and loud. So talking had to be done in snatches between sets. Chats aside, the vibe was great and who could stay still with those familiar beats playing. We danced and laughed and sang along. Lots of tunes from my teen years and haha, maybe some moves from back then too. They might not look too flash, but it feels so great to move to music. I just had a ball. 

One of the students from our school played the drums like an absolute champion and the look of glee and concentration on his face said it all. These little community events are gold for kids and adults alike. They bring us together in a way that meeting up at school or the shops just can't match.

Catching up with some local buddies was great, but adding to the enjoyment was the opportunity to meet and chat with some new folks too. Some local and some visitors from further afield. It was truly a wonderful night. 

Finally, at around midnight (I know! So late!!) I wandered back to the car, my torch light eclipsed by the luminescent flash swished across the bay by a shy moon peeping just then from behind the clouds. Imagine. I might have missed it all. I nearly didn't get there, but I'm so glad that I did. Big thanks to lovely friends that let me know it's important to them that I'm there. 

Feeling good tonight. At home. Good enough.

Cheers n Love

Kerry x

ps I ran the whole night on water and went home with that five bucks still in my pocket! I love getting older. Miracles become a regular part of life.

Wednesday, 27 April 2016

What We Need is an Outbreak of Common Sense

Often I want to set up a Facebook page called 'Just Stop It!' or 'Stop It Now!'. In all honesty, the marvel of social media has made me party to all sorts of news that I wouldn't normally think about or perhaps even know about. Some of the more bizarre stuff might not be true. But worse still, it may be. And in that case the human race or at least a frightening number of its members have a great deal to answer for.

Do you ever wonder what on Earth is going on that other people, yes human beings just like you, find it within themselves to partake in what surely must be recognised as the most despicable of actions against other humans, animals and the very planet on which our existence depends? Do you? I do. I know much harm we do is clumsy, unwitting human error. That's a given. Not one of us is all wise in all ways. But much of what I see cannot be explained away as clumsiness or ignorance.

Entertainment on social media and even on one way media like television (well, okay, we interact by switching channels, buying the goods advertised and sometimes even...switching OFF), is awash with evidence of the slippery slide on which we find ourselves. Those more aware or more concerned individuals try in some ways to slow the trip by actions similar to a small child on a slippery dip, pressing arms and legs outwards to create some friction, slow the descent and avoid the hard 'bump' at the bottom. It might make that individual feel a little safer for a time, or a little more in control somehow. But what difference is it making? I wonder. Some of us are frantically recycling and doing our best to buy and invest ethically, to minimise our purchasing of new articles, trying to live more locally and create a greater sense of connection to others and planet; a sense of making a difference and belonging to a community. Just belonging. 

The thing is, we do all belong. We all live on this planet and we all share, somewhat inequitably to say the least, the resources we find hereon. And yet control of this amazing place we all call home - we all share - we all have in common - falls somehow to the few. How does that come to bear? I am bemused and confused and deeply concerned that we (the masses - the not 'super-rich' - the non-plutocrats) have been dreadfully and thoroughly hoodwinked. We are somehow beholden to keeping those plutocrats right where they like to be. We whinge and whine about how unfair everything is but we seem somehow unable to do much about it. 

Still, I diverge from where I wanted to go with this. The stuff I want to talk about today is the damned silly and ridiculous stuff that people do. The cruel, the nasty, the unkind, the violent, the unfeeling actions against those less strong or less able. I'm talking about anything that makes life less enjoyable, less free, less comfortable or less fair to another being. I don't want to cite specifics because the things I'm talking about are shared often enough and I see no point in giving them more airplay than they are already getting. 

We, human beings of all ilks, nations and creeds, need a virus to strike us, one and all. A curious virus - an outbreak, an epidemic of common sense. The kind that means we must see how another will feel if we act improperly towards them, be they fellow human, four-legged friend or Mother Earth herself. Indeed she is our mother. From her we came and to her we shall one day return. The cycles of life will continue in some way, shape or form, if not in ways immediately recognisable to things inevitably change. But just imagine if there was such an outbreak. If we could all suddenly see the consequences of our actions and make choices that were kinder and more loving. Imagine if we no longer had to see images and hear stories that result from determined and deliberate actions of hate. Imagine. All credit there to John Lennon. His words of love and peace bring tears surging to my poor eyes, tired of being ravaged by indecencies and improprieties. I see and hear way more than I want to, simply because it has become more acceptable to publicise (to share) these things nowadays. 

Well, perhaps all this seems rather judgemental, but I hope not. Making judgments is an integral part of being human. Of human being. It is necessary to make judgments about what is acceptable to us and what is not. It is necessary to make judgments about what we are willing to tolerate and what we are not. Let's hope and pray for that virus that might infect us all with more compassion, more understanding, more empathy, more connection and the ability to see how our actions affect those around us, other humans who may be invisible to us in our daily lives, and this beautiful planet. I'm calling for an outbreak of common sense and I hope it will come soon. I believe there are pockets of 'infection' even now as I write, but my hope is that these will grow and erupt to spread in epidemic proportions and lead to a kinder and more loving humanity. 

Thanks for hearing me out.

Please feel welcome to share stories of compassion and love to empower the movement towards better times for all. Perhaps if we work at it we can tip the scale. If you are unable to comment here, please pop over to my Facebook page and leave a comment there. 

Kerry x

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

The Ten Minute Post

Hi all...I was going to shut down the computer without writing tonight, having just finished my Day Plan for school tomorrow and having fiddled and fluffed about for much of the evening enjoying various bits n pieces found via Facebook...then I decided to see what I could do in ten minutes, just to say I'd written here it is.

I've been feeling a bit annoyed about the latest push by the government to get children into school even earlier than they are currently starting. Now they can start so long as they are four years old by the end of January in the year in which they intend to commence. That is to be changed to make it okay to be three and a half...I think I have it right. Well really. Kids need time to grow and develop as part of a family and a community before they are thrown into a classroom environment. Are we going to be expecting them to be sitting at desks and concentrating to learn what we think they need to learn at such a tender age. And how much adult support is there going to be to achieve such an end? Are ratios of teachers and teacher aides to children going to be increased to ensure children receive the attention they will require. Think help with toileting, blowing and wiping noses, tying shoe laces, opening drink bottles and food packets and so on.

It makes me so mad. I think it is a mad attempt to steal children away from their parents at an earlier and earlier age. I chose to home school my own children and did so before I went to university to become a teacher. I am so glad that I gave them that time and the opportunity to develop free thought. I'm not saying my kids have no problems or that they are perfect...or that I'm a perfect or superior parent in any way, but for me it felt important to have them with me and to allow them time to explore and learn as they felt interested to do so. This felt like a more natural and healthy way to learn and both of them followed their interests.

The answers to these issues are never easy and I don't purport to have all the answers, but if they want three and half years olds in schools then I think they ought to have the parents accompanying them. Yes I do. Because kids need their parents...well that's it. My ten minutes is up. Bit of a rant this evening...and I will be getting along to an event to oppose the introduction of said adjustments to laws. No doubt there will be hundreds, if not thousands of fellow early childhood educators there too as we say together, "NO!!"

What do you think? 


Kerry x

Monday, 25 April 2016

A tiny step forward

So today dissolved into a muddle of time on Facebook, going to school to feed the goldfish and complete a few tasks before 'back to school' day tomorrow, doing a bit of washing and so on. The end of the day approached...well the end of the daylight hours...and suddenly I just had to get myself down to the beach. Once there I wished I'd gone earlier but it's funny how insignifica can usurp the day and leave one scrambling for the meaningful at the latter end. 

I've not been beach walking or bush walking lately much to my mental and emotional detriment but I just haven't felt 'up' to it. Sore leg n all. Not wanting to overdo it. And me being me I'm likely to do just that. So I determined that I would embark on a short walk. Yes short. Very short indeed. And that is what I did. Such a simple thing and a tiny step towards reclaiming my normality. It must be there if I can only be patient and gentle in moving towards where I think it might be.

I wandered not far and not fast. More a humble hobble interspersed with clicking to grab some of those beautiful moments to share here with you. Ah, so much beauty is there for the taking. How do I deprive myself of this when it is all but on my doorstep. This temporary hiccup (at least so I hope) affecting my ambulatory prowess will imbue me with due appreciation and respect for the simple act of going for a walk. No more will I slacken and miss the opportunity to get outside and love the matter the weather. Hold me to it, friends, for such promises are quick forgotten when all is going well. Do you find that too? Never take your health and well being for granted. It is precious beyond measure.

Enough of waxing lyrical and more of sharing what sights I beheld for the tiny price of getting off my butt and heading outdoors...acknowledging of course, that I do live in a truly spectacular place. 

That autumn sun and gentle sea - no wind - patterns of light and movement. Peaceful breath of the ocean.

Sandy starfish?

Tiny sea-pot or perhaps a door to the underworld?

Bizarre accidental selfie.

Favourite shot...tiny treasure.

Ripple effect.

Waiting for a lift home.

Bushfire not too worrying while there is no wind...brushstroke clouds.

The waiting game left me pondering the angles formed by all those wires and the reflective qualities of the insulators...joyful moments for me.

Well, all of that in only half an hour and probably a walk of 150 metres. Can't say how much better I feel for making that small effort. 

Cheers for now!

Kerry x