'Tis the Season

Christmas, the time to be celebrating with loved ones. Cheesy movies on TV, abundance of kilojoules in the kitchen, never enough eggnog. Surrounded by those near and dear. But equally the most stressful time of the year.

Another year has flown by and the ideals that we set last silly season may not have been achieved yet again. A date on the calendar does not miraculously solve our relationship woes, insecurities, financial pressures and the like. But the miracle of the season allows us to bury these deep inside for twenty four hours of indulgence. The physical pain in the mind and soul is temporarily replaced with the looks of wonder and delight on kids faces whilst opening gifts, the frustration of assembling these complicated gifts, and the satisfaction when the gift actually works! 

Annually, our local Rotary International club undertakes the Tree of Joy project, enlisting public support to buy or sponsor a gift for individuals in frail care centres, children's homes and more. Sometimes these gifts are the only presents these people receive throughout the year. Heartbreakingly their simple requests for snacks or an item of clothing is something we constantly take for granted. The immense joy they emit when they open their gifts has the power to render me humbled every time. So how can we harness some of this Christmas delight to be used to feed our souls throughout the year? Years of experience tells me that it isn't the actual gift that produces this response, but the act of giving itself. It's about the selfless process of consideration from the time of purchase right up to parting with the object. The replacement of my needs with the satisfaction of providing for the needs of others. Giving of time as well as a small amount of money is an enormously therapeutic experience. It is the epitome of what the Christmas message should be. 

Why don't we make a concerted effort before next Christmas to carry out this mood-boosting exercise on no particular occasion for no particular reason other than helping your soul and the recipient's? Challenge accepted?

If your cupboards are tidy

A wise man (and it irks me to give him credit for it) told me years ago that if my cupboards were in order, my life would be too. The rebellious excuse-finder in me wanted to disprove this theory on numerous occasions, but unfortunately it was true. 

Was it because I started my day with an organised view, or was it the lack of frustration when finding clothes for the day? Either way, my day definitely went a little smoother if the cupboard was tidy.

My challenge for 2017 is to organise my cranial storage unit. It has taken me years to pack it full of unwanted 'gifts', chaotic decisions, useless information and more. But thankfully we are all born with an incredibly intricate storage system that has quite a few special features....

The Filtration System: that lovely unconscious capability to send all the recognisable trash to the recycle bin (for permanent deletion at a future date)

The Revisit System: the back of the shelf option for indecision

The Triage System: if there's blood, legal consequences or major financial implications, priority is given

The Ostrich-Style System : bury your head in the sand to ignore it!

The storage capacity for the items sorted by this last system is quite close to maximum level. When the mind cupboard hits full capacity, system overload happens and the consequences aren't pretty. Most people can go their whole lives without filling even twenty percent of their capacity. But for those of us who have been met with unusually dramatic life events, the alarm bell can sound fairly quickly. Admittedly, escaping to sea is very therapeutic, but it is not always the problem solver. 

As New Year's Day approaches and people are contemplating their New Year's Resolutions, I will be starting the next phase in my 'mid-life-crisis management programme' - there has to be a bigger reason for all that has been thrown at me, and unless my "cupboards" are tidy, I won't be in a position to realise what the answer is when I find it!

Home?

I am home on leave. But where is home? What is home? Home?

As a child, home was with my parents. Originally Liverpool, but mostly Port Elizabeth South Africa. Home is the structure/building that you live in.... or is it?

In the early 1980's, my Dad built a fantastic house for his family to live in. Every aspect of this was home - the physical process of going to the plot every weekend to move bricks or sift sand, making friends in the new neighbourhood in between the work that was needed to complete the house, even understanding that this undertaking was designed to be sold one day to pay for our tertiary education. Our home. Blood, sweat and tears, in good times and in bad. That was the most difficult home I ever had to leave. A few more of the subsequent buildings were just the houses in which I lived, but the next home was the building in which I met my husband and raised my child. That was where I lived for the longest and made the most memories. But it was not always my home; sometimes it was just the house in which I lived.

After deciding that I needed a project house, I started work on a 'fixer upper' that had the most potential to be a happy, long term home. Style, elegance, space, nature, seclusion, freedom, zen; all of the boxes were ticked. But what good is all of that when you are living to work, responsible for an unreasonable level of stress, and eventually coming back at the end of the day to that potential, but without someone to love it with you.

2016 saw my place of residence being on board a cruise ship. Going from a four bedroomed house and my bedroom/dressing room/ en suite sleep retreat with valley views, to a 8' by 12' cabin (shared) with cubical loo/shower, takes more mental strength than you might appreciate. Being used to a dressing room and now facing a single closet and four drawers seems insurmountable. But what one doesn't take into account initially is the amount of reduced stress this simplicity brings. It is breathtakingly refreshing. Every self help guru advocates simplifying your life, and believe me I know how daunting that can be to face. But the results are indescribable. Relief, peace, accomplishment. Who would have guessed? My seven month house detox was a success. I do not wish to return to the bigger better way of thinking when it comes to houses ever again. But as far as home is concerned, I have learnt that one can live in any sheltered structure. To be home means something totally different to each person. It does not mean the house in which you live, but wherever it may be....... Home is where you are loved and needed.

19 in my head

The past eleven days have been an endurance test of note. The downside to my next ship being smaller is that the crew need to be specialist certified. Let no man's ghost come back to say 'my training let me down'. God forbid that there should ever be opportunity to use my newly acquired fire fighting skills!

I knew before I entered ship life that most of the time I would be almost double the age of my colleagues. Fortunately, my eternally optimistic attitude of "nineteen in my head" has been a shield that I hide behind frequently. No more so than this week. I have been throwing myself into life rafts, climbing up ladders fully decked in a fire suit and breathing apparatus in zero visibility, and jumping into cold saltwater in a life jacket from three meters up! I haven't done that high a jump in thirty years!!! I won't share the colourful language that I used - suffice to say I sounded just like a nineteen year old. 

Acting my age has never been common practice with me. Strangely enough, as a teenager I always associated with twenty-odd year olds. Most of my friends are over ten years my senior. But age is happiest when it is forgotten. Whether it is a coping mechanism or permanent state of mind, not one of us is guaranteed tomorrow. So what does it matter what age we are, or are acting? What's the worst that can happen? Many times this week I doubted that I could make it through this training, but I did! The feeling of accomplishment is bliss, and has added another notch to my belt of regaining confidence. I thought I could, and I did. 43? Nope, 19 in my head. Always.

No excuses, no apologies, no choice!

Sooner or later we all knew this blog would happen - I've been the one man cheer leading squad of "putting it out there" for far too long not to take my own advice. Many people know the journey it took for me to reach this day, and this blog will have years of life if I go into great detail to explain. Yes, in time I will, but for now it needs to be an uplifting story, hopefully one with some inspiration amidst the chaos. Please don't make assumptions of a glamorous lifestyle whilst just viewing the photos.... you will be deceived. My awesome photos mask the heartache it took to get there.

2016 was a game changer. A true creature of habit, the last twenty odd years were certainly eventful, but not as unearthing as this year. Coping is a feature I have mastered; what was the alternative? But for the first time in my life the curve ball was out of control, carrying destruction in its wake. I had finally and officially run out of options. It was very different to the life and death choices I have had to make in the last decade.... lifestyle choices seem to imply that one always has an easy choice. Emotional exhaustion and a punch drunk spirit made the ultimate decision. To quote Tracy Chapman's "Fast Car".....

I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me myself I got nothing to prove