The dangers of multitasking

Do you multi-task?
I'm not talking about productive activity at work, I'm talking about the incessant need to do everything now. Do you text and drive? Do you check Facebook on the toilet? When was the last time you had a meal and just sat there pondering?
There is a phenomena called type A personality. This is easily identified as someone who never sits still and try's to concentrate on multiple things at once, all the time. As soon as something is accomplished the next thing is desired and time out is seen as a waste. They are the ultimate efficiency expert multi-tasker.

However there are dangers to multitasking and especially type A personality disorder. I'm not talking about running a cyclist over while trying to text and drive, I mean psychological.

This is Eleanor Abernathy aged 24.
She has a medical degree from Harvard and a Law degree from Yale. She wanted to do it all.
And this is Eleanor today.

As I write this I am sitting in a uni lecture with an assignment open in the background and work emails open on my phone. I have issues with multitasking. Thinking about Eleanor's fall from grace reminds me of a comment my supervisor once said to me. He found me in the gym cycling while reading a book on radical change management techniques and listening to MOS. I argued I was exercising, learning and relaxing at the same time. He argued that in ten years I would have a mental breakdown. 

Fair call, only problem is I don't like cats. 

Shades of ethics

I'm currently studying ethics. Id like to note here, i hate grey subjects. I'm an engineer i like answers that are right or wrong. Trying to determine if a business decision is right or wrong is like trying to decide if a panda is black or white... I'm sure memebase fans will get that reference...

Example: Nike
Fact: Nike outsources their labour to sweatshops in countries where labour is cheap. Is this ethical? Should the first world buy these products?
Obviously there is the argument that a global company is taking advantage of these people due to the lack of laws regarding safe work and minimum wages in these countries. These practices increase the quality of life gap between socioeconomic groups both within these countries and between first and third countries.

Then there is the argument that millions are given gainful employment in these countries who otherwise would not be employed. It also allows Nike to increase profits and give greater returns to shareholders.
The government deems this practice as legal and thus if you follow deontological ethics, it is ethical, even though our government would never allow our citizens to work under the same conditions.

Does good ethical decisions make good business choices? Not always.
What if the ends justify the means? In what sense? Does a good financial return justify using child labour?

When do shareholders see poor morality as a poor investment?
I think most investment bankers would sadly answer "when the share price is trending negative."

Walking Refugees

There is a famous story of a young boy who was hunted and wanted dead because of his fathers religious choice. Through no fault of his own, he found himself living in hiding with extended family just to stay alive. He wasn't always welcomed in his new town but made the most of it and it became his home planet.

Luke Skywalker was, in a sense, a refugee.

Refugees. There aren't many innocent groups that create such a stark dichotomy of opinion. Unfortunately the predominate one is a dark side that presents itself as hatred. This fear usually comes from ignorance arising from misunderstanding and cultural differences.
As refugees arrive to Australia through all different methods, from sinking boats to qantas, everyone will give an opinion as how to stop the influx. "We're full, get out... Just sink the boat... Go back to your own county."

Where is the compassion? If a heartless, greedy, womanising Schindler can individually provide refuge for hundreds of Jews, with the constant threat of death from nazis hanging over his head then why can't Australia? I'm not suggesting a hell for leather influx, only an intake equivalent to our size and wealth. Currently we do not provide this.
More importantly I'm asking for every Australian to have compassion for those not lucky enough to be born in Australia, who are hunted due to forces beyond their control and find themselves here in the best county in the world. What would you say if the refugee living next door was Luke Skywalker?
Welcome to Australia!

This Saturday Australia is saying welcome to all refugees and walking together.
http://www.welcometoaustralia.org.au
Please join us in celebrating the fantastic multicultural country that we are lucky enough to be a part of.

Head over heels

It's wonderful but not sustainable. We've all been there. The start of a new relationship where all of your time and energy is spent being with or thinking about the other person.
The love bubble.
You somehow survive on a few hours sleep, takeaway and caffeine. Your entire exercise regime is thrown out the window, along with mundain tasks such as housework, grocery shopping and feeding pets. Phone calls don't get returned and my mother ends up filing a missing persons report.

The unsustainable worry if they feel the same way, if they'll call, whether to make preemptive plans for the weekend or where you actually stand with each other eventually works itself out.
Nights out on the town change to nights in on the lounge. Minutes away from them feels like hours and everything pales in comparison.

It's thrilling, stressful and fantastically wonderful but sooner or later life gets in the way and we all return to reality, albeit exhausted.
Finally questions like should I be at that Uni lecture, when was the last time I did any laundry and has anyone seen my dog, all accumulate into a big ball of life stress that eventually needs action.

Eventually.
But right now I'm going to turn my phone on silent and stay in this cosy bubble for as long as possible. Sorry mum.

Legalising gay marriage affects you

I don't completely agree with this photo.
Yes, I believe that a marriage between two people is between those people alone. That it is no one else's business and a personal choice. But giving everyone the right to legally commit to another person regardless of their gender is something that everyone should care about.

Why? Because I believe that you fall in love with a person regardless of their gender, age, race, political views, marital status, religious belief, family responsibilities or trade union practices. Basically everything the Australian workplace relations forbids harassment against and more.
You love someone for who they are, And not much else matters.
I would like to be able to marry whoever I choose, whether they be female or a Tony Abbot supporter. It's about freedom of choice. I want the choice to marry who I love and I want everyone else to have the choice too.

So you might be thinking "I'm definitely straight, how does gay marriage affect me?" It will affect you in that it is another choice that you are free to make, that your friends and family are free to make, not the government.
I believe my gay friends should have the right to marry. I believe my gay family members should have the right to marry. I believe if my children are gay that they should have the right to marry. I believe that some guy on the other side of the world I've never met should have the freedom to do whatever he wants to do AND I believe that bad things happen when good people do nothing.
Cheers to Edmund Burke who, ironically, was the forefather of conservatism, (which is apparent in his original quote where he dismisses half of the human race and references religion. I think paraphrasing was needed!)

In closing: Don't suppress other people's civil liberties because you don't care for the choice, support their right to freedom and everyone's right to choose.
I don't use cycleways but I still think they should be available for those who want to use them ... and I hate cyclists!

Internal Robot Thoughts

I love second hand books. The more random the place I buy them from and the cheaper they are, the better they are. A bought a book in Yamba (a surf bum town on the NSW north coast) for 50cents. It was written by a American business/self help guru over 25 years ago (Dr Denis Waitley) and I carried it with me throughout North, South and Central America.

Why? Because it has a concept in it that I love.

Most self help gurus believe that self image is made up of two parts, the conscious level of thinking and the subconscious. The conscious level collects information, makes decisions and moves this information to the subconscious. The subconscious controls body functions, stores memories and controls goal seeking. Denis named the subconscious his "Robot" and even wrote a little poem about him. 

The problem comes when the conscious level of thinking tries to make a decision that doesn’t correspond to the robots programming, (the robots memory bank.) The robot will then override the conscious mind’s decision. Effectively our subconscious is in control. Our robot is in control of our thoughts and actions. 

Biologically it makes sense. I imagine this was developed from cave man days when some beefy, testosterone fuelled Neanderthal was trying to convince himself he could take on a sabre-toothed tiger single handedly to impress some cave chick. The robot subconscious would take control of the situation and the beefcake lived to see another day. Darwin took care of those without the overriding robot.

Bungee jumping is a good example of how this can be used to our advantage. Our conscious mind knows that the rope will catch our fall, however the subconscious knows that heights are dangerous (information gathered from past experience and learnings), that ropes fail (information gathered from news articles) and surmises that generally this isn’t a good idea. However, the subconscious only knows what it’s fed from the conscious mind, past and present. If your conscious thoughts are strong enough to convince your robot that bungee jumping is fun (you may need evidence to convince him, such as watching other people bungy and live to tell the tale,) you may be able to jump. If your conscious mind cannot convince your subconscious mind then the robot is in control. Your past will dictate your future. 

My stubbornness kicks in here and I say: "No, no one tells me what I can and can't do, take this robot!" And I jump off the cliff. My subconscious is always kicking and screaming, sometimes it even has a slight breakdown, but I tend to beat it into submission, or try to. Honestly it is a constant struggle to be able to live your life how you want to, not dependant on past experiences and how people from your past have influenced your thinking. E.g. If you've never had anyone in your life that you can trust, how does your robot trust the next person? If you don't think you deserve happiness, how does your robot embrace happiness? 

So who's in control of your mind, your current thoughts or your Robot? 

I'll leave you with Denis' Robot poem that he wrote the year I was born. "I have a little robot,That goes around with me.I tell him what I’m thinking,I tell him what I see,I tell my little robot,All my hopes and fears.He listens and remembers,All my joys and tears.At first my little robot,Followed my command,But after years of training,He's gotten out of hand.He doesn’t care what’s right or wrong,Or what is false or true.No matter what I try now,He tells me what to do!"

Jealous much

The other day I was looking at a stranger and was trying to decide if they were a man or a woman. Thats when I noticed a giant rock on their ring finger, (it was a woman btw.) And I couldnt help but wonder, how come she has someone who loves her, who's promised to love her forever more, who's stood up in front of all their family and friends and declared their eternal love.
I'm a nice girl, I'm smart, not terrible looking and i rarely get confused for a man, so why don't I have that? The old curse screamed out - What's wrong with me?

So in true Cos form I analysed it.
Is that what I want? There are people who have wanted to spend time with me but whom I've said no to, or I've said yes but then made it exceedingly difficult for it to work; either by over analysis or by stubbornness.
Why is that? Why did I self destruct, or if your into modern dictionary terms, disturbate?
Is it that I want more? More than what? When is more enough? Or is it that I am incapable of standing still?
Is it that I want them to prove to me that I am the one? In the past I would give hoops for them to jump through to prove themselves, but when is enough hoops enough? How many rows must my man walk down?

It's like that movie pi, where a brilliant mathematician gives himself a lobotomy with a battery drill so he doesn't have the gift/curse of a mathematical mind. Should I do that so I don't analyse everything? To prevent my philosophical ponderings and potentially get me closer to a simpler, happier existence? Is ignorance bliss?

And yet, analysis or over analysis is a part of my life that I enjoy. Just read my blog! Philosophy is the study of life as we know it, of why we are here, what really matters and why it matters.

Analysis of my thoughts tells me that romantic life is what matters more than anything to me, yet my actions seem to prove this wrong. I'm not one of those girls who have a dead end job while waiting for a shiny rock. I have put my career first, my personal desire for accomplishment first, my studies first, my independence first and even my travel lust first and foremost over previous relationships on numerous occasions.

Have I only now decided that I am indeed ready for commitment having somewhat sated my selfish cravings? Is it just the next thing on the list or is it the person standing next to me? Or
is boycotting the whole thing and going to a war zone easier than admitting that it's what I want but also what I'm scared of?

Cos vs MBA

I don't fit in at Uni.
It's not just that I'm doing a postgrad course without doing an undergrad course so I'm constantly behind the eight ball, (What's endnote? Where is blackboard? What the hell is the difference between a tutorial and a lecture?) - it's a variety of reasons.

For example, I don't look like a business student. I generally wear a flanno, jeans and thongs to my lectures and carry a backpack I've dragged around the world three times. Whereas everyone else is wearing business attire with laptops and briefcases. If "Dress for the job you want" was true apparently I'd want to be on the dole.

I am also not Chinese. I sat in an airport in China for several hours and I like to eat Chinese food but alas unlike 70% of my class, I'm not Chinese and can't speak any Mandarin. (Although I do like eating them too; mandarins, not people.) This shouldn't be an issue, but when my lecturer makes remarks and jokes in Mandarin, I don't get it. Ni Hao?

I have trouble respecting my lecturers. This one I'm in two minds about and it takes up most of my thoughts while sitting in my lectures. Most of my lecturers have had stella careers in major multinational corporations and know their shit when it comes to business. I admire them for that. But as soon as they step into that classroom and abide by university policy, the real world goes out the window. When I write a report to a client no one gives a shit if the full stop in my referencing is outside or inside the bracket, not my boss, not the client, NO ONE! It certainly isn't clause to deduct 20% of the marks. Content is what matters except when you're at university, then no one cares about your opinion or the content of your article, so long as you all act like sheep and follow procedure. Bah!

I suppose the biggest reason that I don't fit in at my postgrad uni is my attitude. By the time you get to postgrad you're supposed to be there because you not only want to learn but you like university learning. Whether it be for the intellectual challenge, the peer discussions or because you really like reading journal articles, (who are these people?)
My attitude is the same as when I was in high school. "I don't want to be here, when can I leave." It's not that I don't like the course, I do. Before I started my MBA I would read business books and articles on my own free will because I like learning and I like the subject. But I struggle to learn by lecture. The inefficiency bothers me and my inability to sit still and concentrate on one thing leaves me doing everything but listening to the lecturer. I try to rectify this by making notes on the text or reading related texts on the subject instead of facebooking. Key word there is try.
It also helps when I realise I'm paying $200 each lecture for the privilege.

One down, two thirds to go. Wish me luck!

My Warning

Here's an exert from one of my (unpublished, unfinished) books, 'Susan Gilmore' - Heavy but hopefully OK writing :) Thanks to Scarlett for the line. (GWTW fans anyone?) 

I came with a warning, my Aunts warning, “She’s not as strong as she thinks she is.” That’s what she said to him. That’s my one warning, it was supposed to make him protect me, but in essence all he heard was "she is weak."

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, I could see the fury in his eyes, yet it all seemed like a dream, like something that was happening to someone else. I felt numb. I felt nothing. It was as if I was watching it all from the corner, watching the girl backed against the door, watching the man stand over her, watching him strip her confidence, her trust, her strength.
I stood and watched her face. Her confusion showed through a vacant gaze, confusion between wanting to love this man and being scared of him.
He didn’t seem to notice. She shook her head in confusion and took a step closer to him, reaching out to embrace him, help him. Her movements were slow, gentle, radiating with compassion. He stood rigid against her touch. His mouth pulled tight. As she stepped closer he violently pushed her back against the door. With a swift movement his hand closed around her neck, pinning her against the door.

Instantly I was back.

His hand crushed around my throat, my airways constricted. I felt my feet lift off the ground. He banged my head against the wooden door as he lifted me. The pressure on my neck increased. I gasped for air. My eyes wide with fear, I stared at his face. His eyes were black with rage. His brow furrowed into a deep crevasse. His teeth were gritted yet as he yelled little droplets of spit flew from his mouth. My hands were around his wrist, half pushing him away, half still stupidly wanting to embrace him.

My mind was racing, the lack of air was making me panic. I could feel my face going red. It didn’t seem to bother him. He raised his voice and my ears hurt from the assault. He clenched his eyes shut, he raised his fist, I shut my eyes, I flinched as much as his grip let me, Turning my face away from the impending blows. But his fist shot past my face, it hit the door next to my head. With each blow the wood reverberated from the force.

The instant headache was enough. This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not again.
I was sick of it. But was this enough to walk away? Technically, he still hadn’t hit me.
If he did hit me at least then I could leave. At least then there would be reason enough to walk away. The realisation slapped me across the face and before the words had even crossed my lips they had already spread a smile across my face.
“You missed” I gasped with a wry grin.
He pulled back, confusion etched across his face but he didn't dare let go of my throat.
Im not weak, I thought to myself, Im stronger than you think. Stubborn determination and strength coursed through my veins, "I said you missed." my voice came out cool and calm. I stared directly into his eyes,"C'mon hit me, isn't that what out want to do? Wouldn't that make you feel like a man?" I was shaking, with fear and adrenalin. Half of me wanted to get it over and done with, wave the red flag and then deal with the fallout, just so long as this was over. The other half just wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything will be OK.
His eyes searched my own, for a moment I thought he would call my bluff. I needed to stand strong, I needed one last push. "Get your hands off me you drunken fool!"

I couldn't help but flinch when he moved his hand. His eyes dropped from mine, his hand released my neck, he turned away. I hesitated for a second, poised for another fight. But it was over.
I dropped to the floor, rubbing my neck. I sat frozen, still shaking. I had stood up to him, I had found my strength. My warning had been proven false and this felt like only the start, the start of the end.

Black seams

As the sun rises it sends a myriad of colours through the stark sky. The metallic structure in front of me reflects the light, creating golden shimmering branches that reach into the clear sky. The early morning peace is only interrupted by the distant chirps of birds and the quiet hum of the box next to me. The steady predictability of it soothes me somehow. It's cold, steam rises from my breath and I lean closer to my humming friend to keep warm. The metal next to me gently rattles as a boom sounds out. It isn't menacing, it feels as though the earth has a singular heart beat that echoes deep beneath me.

The gravel under my feet gives a satisfying crunch as my boots cross the site. I look up to the distant gentle rolling hills and shrubby bushland. It creates an interesting juxtaposition to the flat open space and metallic branches. I imagine it would have the phase "architecturally designed" if it were to grace the pages of a catalogue. Stainless and Stone, Walnut and Marble, Cows and Substations.

I follow a line of people through the designated maze. Like ants we follow along the same path, each carrying an assortment of bags and random items. The dress code is similar to some bizarre nightclub, neon colours and leather knee high boots are the norm. Utility belts seem to be optional.
Travelling along next to our line of ants is a giant structure twice as big as a house. Its bulky frame and slow meander is reminiscent of a lazy dinosaur or a slowly migrating whale.

The maze leads to a sheer cliff that contrasts sharply with the surrounding flat void, yet it allows for an intimate view of the layers beneath. A stark line of black gold cuts through, a line that feeds the economy, a line that feeds families. Prehistoric living creatures combined with millions of years of heat and pressure is now the whole reason we're all here in our neon glory.


Alain DeBotton teaches us in "the pleasures and sorrows of work" that all forms of employment can have hidden beauty and wonder. Although I'm sure my brother will disagree, I think a coal mine can be beautiful and hold plenty of wonder.

Change your life path, say hello

I miss a few everyday things about travelling.
The simplicity of life is first. All of the peripherals are missing such as cleaning, groceries and tax. You just need to sort out food, shelter and entertainment.

Having time to myself is another, such as eating alone at a restaurant, pondering and just watching the world go by.

But most of all I miss the random connections. This is something I've tried to maintain since returning to Australia. When you're travelling you are naturally more receptive to meeting new people, even though you're much more susceptible to being taken advantage of. Unlike at home, you may not know the language or customs, you probably have all of your belongings with you and it will take longer for people to know your missing. You're actually pretty vulnerable. But there is a sense of community among travellers that goes missing when your a local. On the road the stranger sitting next to you is just a friend you haven't met yet.

I recently visited a friend who I had met once overseas. I didn't question whether is was a safe idea until my friends started asking questions. Of course I had a fantastic time but I couldn't help but wonder why they thought visiting a friend here in Australia was unsafe when I would go random places with random people I just met in while thousands of kilometres away in a strange country. Peoples perspective of dangerous is altered when in their comfort zone of their home town.

I find my tolerance to "dangerous" situations now im back at home has increased. I will often walk home alone at night without a second thought, in fact I prefer it than getting a taxi.
When was the last time you wandered around the still, dark streets of your city alone and just appreciated the beauty of it?
When was the last time you struck up a conversation with a complete stranger in the street or sitting next to you at the cafe?

Alain de Botton says the main cause for major changes in a persons life is not by talking to the same usual group of people but usually through one off encounters that alter your perspective, or bringing new people from new groups into your life. On retrospect I'd say that was accurate with all my major life transitions.
A one off mentoring session changed me from engineering to business. A chance networking encounter made me want to go to Nepal. People in Nepal from the other side of the world convinced me to start doing marathons and reminded me that there are wonderful, genuine people in the world. Numerous one off encounters with strangers in India and Nepal changed my entire view on life and whats important.

So next time you find yourself waiting for a friend at a cafe or in line at the supermarket, ask the person next to you how their day is going, or ask an acquaintance to tell you their life story (even regular people have amazing stories and I have never been denied when I've asked.)
If you do, it might just change your life.

Saturation

The colour is missing from my life. Nothing seems to have the same richness as it had before. leaves of autumn cover the ground, their brown crumpled carcasses skitter with the wind. grey skies stretch above and the cool air makes me turn from the wind and pull my coat tight. Work and friends lack the lustre they once had. Meetings, deadlines and action lists struggle to have meaning. My mind is elsewhere. My thoughts are drawn to once place only. One reoccurring theme, you.

As soon as I see you a smile spreads across my face, my eyes light up and the exhaustion that plagues me lifts instantly. It feels as though the sun comes out when you appear. The colour returns to everything, but not just normal colour, a saturation of vibrate colours filled with life, love and joy. I shed my coat, the sun kisses my skin as you wrap your arms around me. My thoughts and my body are once again in the same place. The only place they want to be, with you.

Kony

Tonight is "cover the night" the global phenomenon to find and capture Joseph Kony marketed by the NGO invisible children. If you haven't heard about it, get out from under our rock and google it.
A few weeks ago the founder of invisible children had a mental breakdown in the midst of the publicity storm. The media was on him like rabid dogs and people were quick to dismiss the whole thing. "How can someone with those problems run this campaign?" The media quickly asked and the world turned their backs.

I strongly disagree

People are just people. No one is perfect.
We need to remember the core message of the campaign, which is about protecting children from becoming child soldiers. That is what this is about, not the founder, not the thousands around the world who have given time and money to this worthy cause, just the children in Africa.

But conversely, if Jason Russell can organise a global campaign with severe mental issues then what the hell is our excuse for not organising one? Arse farming? The least we can do is support this campaign.

At work there are no perfect employees or perfect managers. No one has work as their core purpose in life 100% of the time. Hence no one will be focused on work for the entire working week. I know the people i work with will have outside work issues in their minds that will impact on their productivity, But that is what is important to them. So long as they're trying at work, that's what counts. I'm more than happy to be lenient.
So Stop looking at the flaws and start looking at the capabilities. You won't have a manager who knows everything just as you won't have a skilled worker who can manage everything strategically. Sometimes out of work issues impact massively at work but any good manager will understand that and support you.

This is the same in relationships. You won't ever find the perfect partner, Although often at the start they seem absolutely perfect. :) People are just people. No one is perfect and we should accept them as they are and for the good they try to do.

Positive perspectives

I've stopped watching the news or reading the news paper. There is so much negativity in the world and I don't need to hear about mass genocides or terrible accidents first thing in the morning. I am aware of world dramas but I don't need to be reminded of it daily.
The world is a wonderful place. That is my perspective so that is my reality. I surround myself with wonderful people that make me smile everyday. I am grateful of the privileged life I lead and i always try to appreciate the beauty in the world around me.

I am often astounded at how often people are negative about their lives. It's easy to do, we all have problems but imagine what a world we would live in if everybody had a positive attitude everyday? Suicide is the leading cause of death in young Australians. Higher than road accidents. That is a horrendous statistic. In a world where billions have no clean drinking water we are privileged beyond belief - and yet thousands kill themselves. It doesn't make sense. Their perspective needs to be altered.
My mother has a saying, if everyone put their problems in a pile and you had to pick one, you'd pick your own back up. Hmm, starvation or boy dramas? Tough choice. Htfu.

So ke garne? What to do? Your perspective is your reality, hence you can make the world a better place by changing someone else's perspective.
I'd like everyone to take this thought and do three things.
Firstly, think about what your grateful for in your life and post it on Facebook. If it's a person, tell them or tag them.
Secondly, next time you think something positive about someone, tell them. It could be a random stranger with killer shoes or the guy at the takeaway shop that makes your sandwich just right. Share your happiness and appreciation.
Thirdly, this is the easiest, smile and say hi to a random stranger. Ever been having a really bad day and a simple act of a stranger has lifted your mood? You might even make a friend.

Last thought: If every time you said something negative you counteracted it with two positive statements the world would be a better place, not just in your reality but in everyones.

Think before you say Yes

I have a terrible habit of saying yes to things without thinking it through. Or thinking that I want something and making it happen without actually considering if I really want it or not. I also believe that once you agree to something you should stick it out. I'm reliable, I'm not a quitter and I'm stubborn as all hell.

Combining these two things can be dangerous. Sometimes it can be positive, sometimes they can be negative. This is the reason I have a trade, am doing an MBA, got engaged, travelled around Spain with my bestie, built a school in Nepal, went to India by myself, taught Engineering, got multiple tattoos and piercings, moved to England, learnt to SCUBA and a variety of other random events in my life.

Recently I signed up to do a half marathon after being inspired by some ultra-fit, awesome people in Nepal to put it on my new years resolutions. This is the latest "Yes, I'll do that... wait ... oh sh*t.." in my life. Up until a few weeks ago 4km was the longest I'd ran since high school. I would classify myself as reasonably fit, but not marathon fit by any means.
For example, I eat McDonalds most days, have an addiction to Coca-Cola, I hardly ever cook or grocery shop, I drink alcohol 6 days a week and do not get 8 hours sleep most nights.
But I do run short distances often and dance all night long at least twice a weekend. Excellent fitness regime!

And this is where the "wait.. oh sh*t.. " comes in. Obviously I needed to step it up a level with longer runs and potentially better food.

I would like to say I stuck to my training schedule like a world class athlete, but alas I did not.
The Hawthorne theory is where by simply monitoring an occurrence you will cause it to improve. So with this in mind I started monitoring my compliance to my running schedule/fitness/drinking habits. I can now say that I achieved a 44% compliance to eating well, a 36% compliance to not drinking excessively and a 50% compliance to my running schedule.
Not a great result. Imagine if Hawthorne wasn't involved!

But I did it!! – I ran the 21.1kms in 2hours, 7seconds and although I struggled every step of the way I’m stoked I did it.

Now for the bombshell… (in my classic “whats next” style)

The morning of my half marathon I received an email saying that my group has been accepted for the Oxfam trailwalker. This is a team race through the bush, over very steep hilly terrain, for 100km.
Yup, 100km.
I'm told it is an ultra marathon...

It’s from the central coast into Sydney and we’ve got a target time of 18hours. 18hours of running/jogging or walking, 18 hours of pain, 18 hours of fun!!
I can’t wait but oh sh*t, what have I got myself into?!

Check out the course here:
http://trailwalker.oxfam.org.au/sydney/trail/

However it is all for charity and this is where you come in. Our goal is to raise $5000 for Oxfam who do amazing work all across the world and make a difference to millions of lives every year. I’m running with a group of architects so donate or check our team here: http://trailwalker.oxfam.org.au/sydney/teams/team/?team_id=12595

The race isn’t until August so I’ll send through progress updates as the time gets closer. I’m also doing a marathon as part of my training in June. Yup, just a training run of 42kms… Oh sh*t.

Not to worry, here comes the stubborn part – bring it on! :)

I want to not want more

Competitive manufacturing teaches us that there is no such thing as perfection. If you achieve perfection then you stop striving for more and will subsequently be overtaken and become out dated. You must instead strive for excellence, Kaisen, continuous improvement. You must always ask yourself, “how can we improve? How can this be better?”

As a business philosophy this is fantastic. But how many of us take this opinion into our personal lives?

If you have the iPhone 4 do you feel the need to upgrade to the 4S? If you lose 5 kilos do you feel the compulsion to lose 5 more? Do you want the latest, greatest car/house/job/education/social life/fitness level? Where are the boundaries? If your partner is an 8/10 do you hold out for something better? Where does desire and determination turn to pure narcissism?

I used to have a life philosophy that encompassed goal excellence. I worked two jobs, was studying two courses and in my spare time I would network, exercise and try to learn new skills. But for me it wasn’t about having the latest gadgets or being the greatest, it was fighting the stagnant nature of a daily routine. Inside I would be screaming “What’s next?” and planning my next degree before I’d finalised enrolment. Sadly this crossed over into my personal life and I would always be planning the next moment without ever really experiencing the current one.
This accumulated until my drive and determination was almost completely extinguished and I abandoned my job, career, education, possessions and relationship to wander aimlessly around the world.

Today I haven't quenched my inner drive, but I have quelled it slightly. I have found some inner peace. I’m not sure how I got here; perhaps a month in the Himalayas was all I needed. Perhaps completely letting go of the reins, selling almost all my possessions and experiencing life with people who had less than me but wanted for nothing was enough to alter my perspective. I am relatively content with how things are, even when I have no idea where I’ll be in a year.

That being said as I settle back into daily life I cannot help but want. But what do I want? I often ask myself this to find direction but am only left with one answer.. More. I want more in every aspect of my life. Will more make my life better or easier? No. But I still want it. I want more time, happiness, friends, education, fitness, relationships, food, clothes, money, bacon, more everything please. And when I get more, I will then want more again. Greed cannot be sated.
More is the curse of the western world. It is at the core of first world problems.
It is why the third world is happier than the first. It is why I want to run away and live in the himalayas.

The solution? I'm still working on it (open to suggestions) but being aware that having more, doing more will not solve anything is a good first step. Practicing the ability to find hapiness in life's simple joys and to stop and smell the flowers whenever you can. Literally.

Jaded

Apparently I'm jaded. I was told this recently and it didn't bode well. After much analysis I understood why people might think this. I tend to give my all in relationships and I'm often the one left with nothing in return and hurting. Which doesn't strike me as fair or just. I have often given the opinion "such is life" or "ke garne" because life isnt fair, it just is. I often tell my friends, Don't worry, it will probably happen again, soon enough, so don't be too concerned. Easy to see why some may think I'm jaded. 

Buddhism teaches the 4 noble truths, which states that suffering is an unavoidable fact of life and realising that, freeing yourself from wanting and accepting this truth is the only way to happiness. 

I'm not sure that I've freed myself from wanting but I have realised and accepted that I will be hurt again and again and again. All relationships must come to an end one way or another, whether by blood splattered walls, mutual decisions or simply by death. And there is every possibility that a wonderful relationship will prelude the demise. I prefer to see this as being a realist than being jaded. 

So what to do? Opt out all together or dive in head first and hope for the best. To quote a cliche, Id rather have loved and lost than never loved at all. So chances are I'm going to keep diving head first into shallow pools... but this time round I might stop and look first, or even put a helmet on. 

As for me being jaded, surely if you break a heart often enough it will still have some sharp edges when you tape it back together. :)

My top ten songs just cos.

My usual blog didn’t come out last Friday. Most of the time I have a month or two written in advance but not at the moment. I’m still writing but it is a bit deeper than my usual random thoughts. My friend read one of my draft posts and commented “that shits heavy,” which makes me think it may not be fit for consumption just yet. I would say public consumption but that would be incorrect, it’s the immediate people in my life that it is not fit for. Which is saying a lot if you've read most of my blogs. Don’t worry; I’m sure I’ll post it sooner or later. Stay tuned for some juicy stuff.

So Ke Garne? What to do? Well I thought I’d share my recent favourite music with you as it has become an integral part of my life. It gives me entertainment, inspires me to run and keeps me sane.

Looking back over the last 6 months my favourite artists have changed abruptly, corresponding with my surroundings. When I was living in London I would listen to Bob Marley every day, in India I only listened to LadyHawke and as I crossed the border into Nepal it was Coldplay Mylo Xyloto. Since returning to Australia it has thankfully become more diverse. Friendly fires was a stable for a month or so and is still a reoccurring player. Skrillex is a recent arrival as is Martin Solveig and Calvin Harris, all three aid my thirst for house music while running.

Below I’ve listed my top ten favourite songs of the moment. These are the songs that are on repeat on my ipod, again and again. On analysis I would say that all would be a positive vibe, a funky beat and something you could dance too. If you want to look deeper you could probably put a name or situation to each song, but I prefer the funky beats. Enjoy



Jamie Xx remix – Hip Love
Funky beat I can’t get enough of and memories of a relaxing weekend away.

Calvin Harris vs Steve Aoki – No beef feels so close
Who doesn’t love a good mash up? And Calvin Harris is a legend. “I wear my heart upon my sleeve, like a big deal”

Cassius - I <3 u so (Skream’s made Zdar feel like he was 20 again remix)
Love the old bytes throughout new dubstep sound. “I loved you so, but why I loved you I’ll never know.”

Martin Solveig – Hello
Pop that makes you smile - Also check out Big in Japan. “Yeah I think your cute but really you should know, I just came to say hello.”

Nu Nrg – Dreamland
Classic! Rave on

Skrillex – Breakn a sweat
Has an awesome bit about the future of music from a long time ago. Reminds me of pushing myself running or dancing too much. He was amazing at future music!

Knifeparty Vs Sweidsh house mafia – Antidote
Hardcore get into it music

Friendly fires – Jump in the pool
Love the optimism combined with trepidation. Often in my life I find myself standing on the edge, wanting to jump in the pool!

Morgan Page – Longest road (deadmau5 remix)
Another classic that always seems relevant to my life. “If you are so frequently in love… you go down the longest road to nowhere… got no need for wanderlust”

The wombats – Moving to New York
Who hasn’t had a week that’s made them want to move to New York? “I’ve just had the craziest week, like a party bag of lies, boozing and deceit…. I don’t know why I want to voice this out loud, it’s therapeutic somehow… ”

How to: Survive a breakup

My friends will often stop, look at me and ask if I'm OK with the engagement being called off. It's almost as if they think I'm pretending to be ok, holding it in and at any moment I'll suddenly break down and be a mess.
No thanks.
It's not that I'm being stoic, numb or I haven't realised what's happened yet, it's just that I'm over it.
When I have to talk to him it doesn't make my heart jump, my mind think back to the good times or any of that guff. I wish him all the best but I'm glad we're not together. Shrug.

So how did I get to my happy place?

Firstly, I'm really good at breakups (potentially a lot better than relationships). I have 20/20 hindsight, an innate belief that I can deal with anything that comes my way and not a spiteful bone in my body. Combined that with legendary friends and a single life that rocks and I'm left with absolutely nothing to feel sorry about. (Especially when compared to some of the amazing people I've met on my travels who deal with a lot bigger stuff than me.) To be fair I was sad for a week or two and crucially, I did a lot of my grieving before we broke up. Two occasions spring to mind, both when I was very much alone.

The first was when I left London:

I’ve never heard of Scott, Columbus or Cook freaking out at the beginning of an adventure, and I’m fairly sure that guy who paddled a kayak from Australia to New Zealand didn’t cry his first night away from home, but I like to think that maybe they did, just a little.

He took me to the airport and even helped me with my bags, but I was a mess. I was bawling before I left home and when it was time to say goodbye I was close to having a panic attack. He was fantastic and said all the right things, but I didn’t believe it. I was a complete blubbering, snotty mess and kept asking him to say “it will be alright” again and again, like a mantra.

I felt stupid that I had booked a trip without really thinking it through. That I had assumed I’d be able to deal with whatever came my way but quite simply, I was scared. Scared of the unknown, scared of being apart from Adam, scared that I had once again torn apart my nest, thrown my life out the window and all I had was the bag on my back. I wasn’t quite sure where that left me, or where that left Adam and I. Adam told me that it is just a holiday, that in two months time we’d both be back in Australia. All I wanted at that moment, as shameful as it is, was to fast forward.
I was scared and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be the last time that I would see him, that I had booked this trip and put it ahead of him, ahead of us and that I had done so happily without much thought. Did this mean my subconscious had made a decision for me? Was our relationship that meaningless to me? Had I really just abandoned Adam again because of my travel lust? Only now faced with the consequences did I really analyse what I was doing. Why did getting on this plane feel so finite?

I told him to walk away so I could go because I didn’t feel strong enough to walk away from him. But when he turned to leave I didn’t wait to watch. I turned and headed for the gate with the thought in my mind “don’t look back.”  

I contemplated asking the nice man at passport control if I was doing the right thing.

The second was my last day in the hills of Nepal:

I was utterly exhausted. My legs hurt with every step, my back ached and my blisters rubbed. I was out of breath. I struggled to keep my breathing constant but at the same time I was chocking on the cold air. I had started off full of anger but less than an hour of hiking up this steep hill my anger had turned to an emotional mess. Outside was a physical struggle, inside was an emotional one. The conversation with Adam this morning had made me confused. Had I made the right decision in going on this trip? Had I completely destroyed out relationship? Did he still love me? Did I still love him? It was hard to answer as the picture of Ads in my head had gone blurry. Who was he now? I couldn’t remember the man I had loved and now there was a cranky guy on the phone, who didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach made me stop answering the phone when he did actually call, which was becoming less and less. Yesterday was the anniversary of his proposal. I didn’t have phone reception for most of the day and hadn’t bothered to call when I did due to time zones and exhaustion. I had left him a card but he had done nothing for me. Worst of all, that didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I was sad for leaving Phuleli, not a normal leaving sad, a complete saturation of emotion, a sadness combined with awe inspiring proudness and pity and envy. I was confused with how I felt about Nepal, let alone with Adam dramas on top. I needed support, not conflict and I needed to be warm, clean and resting. My toes were numb, my arms were red, my heart was racing, my mind was muddled and my legs burned. I couldn’t hike anymore! My body knew this, my throat closed up and I started wheezing and gasping for breath. Tears sprung to my eyes, my airways closed, I couldn’t breathe. I’m going to die, I thought. The altitude, the rural location, I’m going to suffocate from stress!

I dropped to my knees clasping my throat, sobbing, wheezing, convinced that this was it. Uttraman, my guide, came running over. He held me, rubbed my throat, gently warming it up and told me everything was ok, I wasn’t alone, He was here for me, it will all be ok. “It will be alright.” That’s what Adam had said at Heathrow.

My stubborn mind kicked in and refused to let this situation escalate. You will not have a panic attack here Corinne, that is completely ridiculous and out of the question! Stop sobbing, start breathing. You are in control. You will NOT have a panic attack. You will not suffocate in the Himalayas!

That bitch had saved my life more than once and she had a point. This was ridiculous. There was nothing actually wrong with me. My breathing slowly returned to normal, my throat opened up and I had calmed down to a quiet weep. I hugged Uttraman who was now rubbing my numb legs to keep them warm. He had dressed me in all of my layers and I was now rugged up warm. I looked around the amazing snow covered forest. I was OK. My trekking pride was bruised but what’s new? My last trekking injury still hadn’t healed from falling into a river.

At some point before the summit my tears finally stopped. At the top instead of a view of Everest there were clouds. We ambled along the clouded mountain top, hoping for a brief view. I realised that this area somehow resembled the British Moors. Boggy marshes, cloud blowing through, short shrubby grasslands and bitterly bone achingly cold. I knew how the Bronte sisters felt, alone in their boggy wasteland. It suited my mood perfectly. There I was, standing on a precipice in life, no way of seeing what lies ahead, wandering tentatively forwards, hoping not to drop off a cliff.

So here's my 6 step guide:

1. Feel: Allow yourself to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling and get it all out. If someone shoots you with an arrow, don’t ask why, pull the damn thing out!

2. Hindsight: Think about it, you knew it was going to happen sooner or later and it really is for the best isn't it?

3. Confidence: Think about all the awesome stuff that you've done and now all the awesome stuff that you can NOW do! FREEDOM!

4. Perspective: Do you really have anything to complain about? You have clean water, that’s more than billions of people in the world have!

5. Compassion: Be kind to yourself, but also be compassionate to your ex. Remember, no one wanted it to end like this when it first started. You have good memories, don't spoil them with spite.

6. Ke Garne? Such is life. You’re not the first, you won’t be the last.
  

Scars of honour

My most popular blog thus far has been Divorce Porn, where I discussed breakups and dished some dirt on what my ex's have advised me in the past. (Perhaps criticism is a better descriptor than advice.) The moral of the story being that if I tried to please everyone, and be the person everyone wanted me to be, I simply couldn't. (Or I'd be diagnosed with multiple personality disorder.) My mother's response was quoting popeye "I yam what I yam," but I prefer Shakespeare "above all else, to thyne own self by true."

I'm confident in myself and confident with who I am. (Perhaps that's why I can write such personal thoughts on my blog.) The first rule of marketing is you can't appeal to everyone, define your market, your target audience, ensure you appeal to that market and then differentiate yourself from the competition. My target audience is people who like me for me, so that pretty much solves itself... :D

I'm not perfect, but I'm not striving for perfection. I'm simply being me and having fun doing it. My body is for me to use, I want to follow the F1 example. If the wheels fall off, the fuel runs out and the engine blows up as you cross the finish line, you've engineered it perfectly and driven like a legend! Plus multiple organ failure usually provides a good reason to not resuscitate.

I have scars on my body from use and I see them as badges of honour and memories. This is where I fell over in the Himalayas! This is from a fin cut surfing North Shore Hawaii! This is an exhaust burn from riding dirt bikes on Stockton beach! This is from rock climbing without ropes! This callous is from getting my trade! This is where I got drunk in high school and set myself on fire! This is from kneeling on a sea urchin while tech diving! This is where someone on ice skates ran over my hand! This is where I got bitten by a snake! ...Some are more impressive than others...

But right now everyone is slowly dying and getting a little older. This is the youngest you will ever be, forever more. This is the least wrinkly my skin will ever be, the highest my tits will be and the least cellulite I will have. I'm sure in 5-10 -20 years time I will look back at photos of you now and say, "damn I looked good then!" and you will too, APPRECIATE IT NOW!

But most importantly this is the highest potential level of fitness you will ever be, both mentally and physically. Don't think tomorrow you will climb that mountain or learn that new skill. Go and do it now! I repeat, NOW is the youngest you will ever be, forever more.

My point is make sure you are true to yourself and appreciate how amazing your body is. If someone in your life wants you to change who you are for them, they obviously don't understand just how awesome you are.
Unless you're giving them food poisoning...

When in India... Never trust a nice man in a suit

He was nicely dressed, young and clean. He said he wasn’t from Delhi and just wanted to talk for a bit. Alarm bells rang but I could really do with a friendly talk. It was my first night in Delhi and overwhelming is an understatement. There really isn't anywhere on earth like India.

I declined tea, coffee, dinner, beer and wine so we stood on the streets talking. I made the rookie mistake of telling him I had just arrived and was alone, but between the jetlag and his persistent questions I couldn’t help but let a few slide. I really do have trouble lying to people. I asked him what the highlights of Delhi were and he told me to go to the lotus temple. 

“Where exactly is this? I haven’t managed to get a map yet.”
He ushered me to a nearby shop and he ran upstairs while I waited outside. Before long he had convinced me to come inside and meet his friend for just a second. I was apprehensive by this stage and only agreed as I could see the small loft from the street. My Western mind told me that being able to be seen by the public would stop crime, which is ludicrous in Delhi

Once upstairs I sat on a small bench and his friend pulled out a map and explained the highlights of Delhi and the special tour to see them all. He offered tea and when I declined (I had lived in England for 9 months, tea I do not like,) he offered me some bright yellow sweets from what looked like a chocolate box. They were made from marigold flowers and were delicious in a sweet, flowery way.
“You must do a tour tomorrow.” He started his plug.
“Not tomorrow, I’m very tired and tomorrow I just want to relax. Maybe Friday?”
“Everything closed from Friday till Tuesday.”
I looked at him blankly. Everything is closed across the entire city for 5 days. As if. “Really? Well that’s a shame, I was going to book this for Friday but if everything is closed then I won’t book at all.”
The original guy started on me, “No, you go tomorrow.”  He was sat next to me on the bench seat and moved closer towards me, squishing me against the wall and practically sitting on me. If there is one thing that gets me back up, it’s a lack of personal space.
“Why you no go tomorrow?” He demanded. He knew how to pressure foreign tourists but it only made me bristle. 
According to all my male friends I know how to intimidate men, something about being blunt, stubborn and intelligent. I looked him square in the eyes and said slowly and cooly,
“Because I don’t want too.” 

He smiled and looked down, obviously confronted, “Ok, Ok.”
I stood up and cheerily said, “Thanks for your time and the sweets. Do you mind if I keep the map?” His friend nodded blankly and I grabbed it. The younger guy still wasn’t moving and was blocking my way out of the cramped loft. I took a step forward, effectively kicking his legs as I did, even though he was still presses up against me. He got the hint and turned so I could squeeze past.
“Happy Diwali!” I shouted as I fled. Back on the crowded streets I made a bee line for my hotel.

 “How about an authentic Indian breakfast tomorrow?” He had followed me and continued his assault.
“No thanks, I just want to sleep in and relax tomorrow.” Like I’ve told you 5 times! “See you some other time!” He stopped at looked at me with disgust, something made me think he might slap me, here in the streets of Delhi where I know not a soul on this entire continent.. What could I do? What would I do? 

“You do not deserve this!” He barked and snatched the map from my hand before running into the crowd. 

I stood stunned that a) I had let myself be in that situation, b) that he had snatched it from me so violently and c) that once again I was all alone in a giant city a long way from my family.

Back at the hotel the firecrackers were keeping me awake. Every time I closed my eyes I pictured the hotel setting alight and me, oblivious to the sirens and screams with my earplugs in, burning to death. I wasn’t comfortable, I wasn’t happy. I was missing home, scared and all alone in a country where people would intimidate me to make a few bucks. I did what any reasonable person would do, I called my Mum. 

Supersonic planning: Cos the Manager

Apparently I'm very employable. I discovered this recently by looking for work and being inundated with job offers on levels better than I expected to be working at before I turn 30.

When I was 19 I was offered an electrical engineering cadetship while I finished my trade. I met with my mentor and he asked the standard mentor question, "Do you have a plan?"
I answered immediately, "Yes, of course!"
I've always had a plan for every aspect of my life, from my career, finances, writing, education and fitness and corresponding SMART goals to match. (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Timely) Sure they aren't concrete and I update them regularly, but I still had a plan.
At 19 my plan was as follows:
- A planner by 23,
- A supervisor by 25,
- A manager by 30.
And then I figured I would either be dead or boring by 30, so who cared.

Well it turns out my time lines were wrong.
I became a planner at 21, had direct reports at 22, hired as a supervisor at 23, a managing consultant at 24 and now at the ripe age of 25, I am a fully fledged Manager. A Project Manager in charge of multimillion dollar electrical installations and a team of people who's combined experience surpasses my age. I'm shocked but Booya!

My good friend said to me "If you always underestimate yourself you'll always be surprised" and I suppose it's true.
Someone I used to know, who wasn't pleased with my promotion said "You're not as good as you think you are" to which my other friend replied, "Nah, she's heaps better!"
When I was surprised that the final contract offer came through, my recruitment officer said "You really didn't believe me, did you?"

I didn't apply for a managers role but I was offered one. My employers obviously saw potential that I didn't yet think was here and my friends can see it as well. With all of the drama in my life recently, it is easy for me to think that I'm not a good horse to bet on, but it's times like this where friends make all the difference. They remind you who you are, that you're the bomb to hang out with, they have your back when someone's up in your face and even push you to go for jobs you didn't dare think you'd be considered for.

To my friends, family and mentors, Thanks, you guys are LEGENDS!

Throwing lemons at death

Last week my Nanna passed away.
I have discussed death in this blog before but it was always my own. My Nanna was the first person whom I knew well to pass away and the finality of it has hit home.
My memories of her are that of a childs; her warm hugs, her dislike of getting down on the floor to play and our trips to Henny Penny. She was kind, generous, opinionated and always had time for her charities and to knit for anyone and everyone. I have guilt at not seeing her more often and not becoming closer to her when I was an adult, but Ke Garne, hence the shocking finality of death.

As I walked through her house I noticed so many items unopened or unused, waiting for a special occasion that never came or to simply get around to it. We all have these things in our life, some are special table wear, some of which are people, some are life long dreams.

I am the type of person who when life gives me lemons, I pick them up and throw them back. (Or make lemonade, whichever.) So this morning I went for a run. A run that I dedicated to my Nanna. I'm not sure if it was the amazing beaches in front of me, the rising sun to my left, the absurd amounts of Calvin Harris in my ears or the thoughts in my head but I ran further and longer than I had ever before.
I have been considering signing up for a half marathon for sometime as it is on my bucket list. Right now I am fitter than I have been in years but a half marathon is over 21kms. I have never ran that far. This morning I ran a bit over 10kms which is my longest run EVER. But if I keep putting it off will I ever actually do it?

So 5 minutes ago, I signed up for a half marathon in 6 weeks time. Not much time for training but better now then never. It will hurt, it will be one of the hardest things I've ever done physically, I may cry and be a complete mess but better done than left on the 'to do' shelf forever more.

In effect, this is my way of throwing lemons back at death. Elizabeth Kubler Ross would probably tell me I was halfway between anger and bargaining. But to quote Calvin Harris, (poorly I might add,) "I'm fighting for my life" and I just kinda realised it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saw1w-8ODKM&feature=relmfu

Get your dance on!

The sun kissed my shoulders, warming me throughout, the sand beneath me was cool under the top layer, I sunk my feet deep. I breathed in the cool salty air and opened my eyes to the bright blue sky that was mirrored by the aqua coloured waves. I looked both up and down the beach and saw no one. A smile spread across my face. It was a perfect day, clear sky, clear water, warm sun and an entire beach to myself. There is only one thing to do in a situation like this.
Dance
I plugged my ipod in and cranked the volume up. Jet's "Are you gunna be my girl" blared in my ears and out came the moves. There is something liberating about dancing wildly in a public place in broad daylight. You can sing as loud as you want, try all those moves too dangerous or stupid for the dance floor and best of all, you can do it naked if you so wish. For those who haven't tried that, please do so or at least put it on your bucket list. "Must dance nude in the sun." On a side note, the worm is not advisable if you are nude on a beach..

Meanwhile I was pumping out the moves. My dancing style is a cross between Rhianna and Urkel with some hardcore shufflin and some JT thrown in. But on the beach the moves get wild. I throw in a running man, a robot, a matrix move or two and even a cartwheel. I swap to some Ministry of Sound and by the end of the 5th song I'm puffing. I cool off in the empty aqua blue ocean and float under the sun.

Life can be complicated and difficult but in any day there can be a moment that makes you smile throughout. A beautiful beach and some good music easily makes all the dramas inconsequential. Life is good and simplicity is perfection.

Looking for Jesus

I have trouble understanding why people who read the Bible or those Christian newsletters. The lady next to me was reading her Christian magazine from front to back with a concerning amount of focus. I couldn't help but analyse. Most people read for entertainment, escape or knowledge but this is different. This is comfort reading, reassurance in text, an explanation of life and a resounding 'everything will be OK' as someone will take responsibility for your sins... Each to their own.

I began to think of my own comfort reading. What do I read to reassure myself, to give myself hope when I'm unsure? And then it hit me... Here is my confession, my sins lay bare, my guilty pleasure is romance novels.

Mills and Boon is my religious text, my false hope. In my fantasy it isn't Jesus who cleanses me of my sins, it's a tall, handsome man with fantastically strong arms, a passion for romance, a healthy bank account and a desire for long term commitment.
SWOON
Maybe his name is Jesus, it worked for Madonna, but I'm not fussy..

When I analyse my own fantasy it isn't an actual deep-seated urge to be swept off my feet and void of any responsibility or free thought by this man on a white stallion. I am loving my independence and don't want it removed by some handsome stranger, or anyone for that matter. To be honest, if I did come across him I would probably find him too needy or not enough of a jerk for my liking. There is every possibility he may leave beard hairs in the sink and may not appreciate me giving him a detailed synopsis of every second newspaper article I read.

In essence, I don't want my sins resolved, I just want the reassurance that somewhere on an island far away, exists a man like this. That alone is enough for me. Just like the lady next to me, I don't have to meet Jesus to be reassured, I just need to think he exists.
So as the lady peered through her glasses at an article of what He says about forgiveness, I peered through mine, reading what great lengths he goes to convince her of his love and I'm sure we both felt better.

Millet Meditation

'They could make a meditation class out of this' I thought to myself as I wielded the sickle in my hand. I grabbed the millet with my left hand and sliced it clear with the sickle in my right. Very Zen. I tossed the millet head into the basket and glanced over at the grandmother standing next to me. She was repeating my action with increased skill and speed. She was a good foot shorter than me, which makes her the ideal height for harvesting millet, unlike myself. I stood stooped with my knees slightly bent and my back hunched to just reach the millet heads. I was contemplating if kneeling would be a better idea.
Grandma gave me a kind smile for my harvesting attempts. She was swathed in clothes but looked so small and fragile underneath. She had a large cloth wrap around her head, which held her hair up and trailed down her back. She wore a fake North Face fleece jumper, traditional printed skirt, trekking socks that were at least 5 sizes too big for her and a very worn pair of pink crocs. Her face and hands were dark leather from 50 years of hard work in the sun. The only lines imprinted on her face were from smiling and as she caught my gaze she showed how they had come to be with a gentle grin. Her hands continued to slice through the millet stems as though they had eyes themselves. Her decorative, oversized nose ring jangled and swung as she worked. It was a symbol of her marriage although her husband had died 26 years ago.
We worked in silent unison, swapping places occasionally so she could clear the stalks from where I had collected the millet. I would be so happy to do this all day, however my back began to say otherwise. I loved the simplicity, the fact that the food that grows is the food we eat, that no capitalist business venture is sought, no fat cats or middle management bullshit. We plant the millet, then when it grows, we harvest it, then we plant oats, then we harvest it and so the cycle goes.
The family's chickens ran around us, keen to steal a piece of millet from our basket. Grandma shoed them off and gently scolded them. Local villagers walked past and we greeted them while continuing our work. Each commented on the white girl "Mya" who was helping in the field. The unanimous verdict was that I looked quite hilarious.
The sun dipped beneath the hill and dusk was upon us. The fading light meant it was quitting time. Grandma stood up, said something in Nepali to me and smiled. I must have looked blank as she tried again, simpler sentences this time, "Dhanyabad.... Chia?" I smiled and followed her inside, nothing is started or finished in Nepal without tea. 

Divorce Porn

The divorce porn industry is lucrative and growing... No, not that type.. I'm talking about the hoards of memoirs, novels and articles giving gritty details of the final stages of a relationship breakdown and what happens next. 
Elizabeth Gilberts "Eat pray love" is a key example and testament to just how lucrative an industry it is.
Why?
Because everyone loves to find out what happened between two people that made them stop loving each other or caused them to simply throw their hands up in the air and say it's all too hard. Often after a breakup even random acquaintances will ask what happened and probe for gory details of the relationship aftermath.
"Were other people involved, do you think he's lying, did you ever love them, did you see the signs?"
Or add very unhelpful, uneducated analysis, such as 'I bet they never loved you' or 'You could have fixed it if you'd really wanted too' or my favourite 'I bet he was fucking that slut the whole time.' Did I mention these are not helpful remarks? 


But who can blame us? Our eyes cannot help but linger a little longer on breakup speculations splashed across the covers of glossy mags, our tongues cannot help but ask strangers how their marriage dissolved and we cannot help but analyse and speculate. Why do we do this? Perhaps we think there might be a thread of truth somewhere in the post mortem that gives us insight into our own relationship. A warning sign, a green light or a key learning that we should take away. Something that will prevent the pain next time or maybe give us an indicator that our plane is in a downward spiral and to "BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!"


As for my breakup, and I know those who haven't asked are dying too, it was all quite uneventful. No gory scenes, no blood splattered walls, no lawyers, not even phone calls in the night. Sorry. 


To quote myself,  "I'm of the belief that relationship success is not dependant on how it ends...A relationship that is/was happy, filled with treasured memories and learnings is a successful one. If it ends because it had stopped fitting that criteria, despite all attempts, then kudos to you for being honest. If you managed to get through the breakup without throwing objects at each other or hiring a lawyer and you still remain friends, even greater kudos to both of you!"
(http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/08/seagulls-and-relationship-success.html 2011)


We haven't thrown objects or involved lawyers and frankly I'm of the belief that distance and no communication is best for all concerned. I always liken it to cutting an arm off, would you rather do it quickly or have it hanging there half severed for a few days/weeks/months, slowly going septic? And you wouldn't carry it around with you after you hacked it off would you? Well maybe you would if you were still trying to stick it back on.. But after you knew it was dead you'd probably let it go..  Gory I know, but it makes sense to me. 
But despite our machete end, Adam and I did make many treasured memories in our time together....
http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/11/titanic-without-bad-ending.html 
http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/07/surfing-santa-teresa-costa-rica.html
http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/07/full-moon-party-koh-phanang.html
http://cosrandom.blogspot.com/2011/07/waikiki-dreaming.html
So I think we deserve some kudos.




I'm off to clean the blood from my machete but don't worry, I won't leave you without some divorce porn cause I know you need your fix. Here are a few pieces of constructive criticism that  I have received over many years of dating from the most honest source of feedback, ex-boyfriends! When collaborated they really are a wonderful source of information.. Enjoy.

• Women aren't supposed to be engineers, they aren't as good at that stuff as men 
• I love that you earn a good wage
• I hate that you earn more than me
• I love that you surf, we can spend time together this way
• You shouldn't surf, it's not feminine
• You shouldn't call your stomach your guts, it's not feminine
• Your arse is too big, you should work on that and get the meat off
• Your arse is too small, you should work on that and put some meat on
• You should wear nice clothes to work, not king gees, maybe a dress?
• You shouldn't burp, it's not feminine
• You should wear clothes more often
• You should sleep naked more often
• I like how confident you are
• I wish you were less outgoing
• Dresses suit you better than pants
• Pants suit you better than dresses
• You should wear heels all the time, they're so feminine
• You shouldn't wear heels, you're too tall, it's not feminine
• I liked you better when you didn't like me, you should go back to not liking me 
• Maybe you should clean your car, or at least remove the old McDonalds rubbish
• Your jiggly bits jiggle
• You should learn how to cook so you don't poison us again

Learning priceless lessons

"I rinse my face in the cold mountain water and as the cold burns my skin I look up to the snow covered peaks. A light cloud wafts pasts, hanging around the cliffs as if they too want to be closer to it. The sun peirces through and illuminates the east side of the all three peaks.
I straighten my back and feel the tight muscles complain. I can't decide if it's from the last week of heavy labour or the hard wooden bed I slept on. A massage and some yoga would do wonders today, I thought to myself, neither of which was an option. And yet, as I stood massaging the small of my back, gazing across the valley at one of the most inspirational views I've ever seen, I felt strong. Strong enough to trek back up the hill, pick up my shovel and keep building the school."


As the experience of Nepal sinks in my feelings are starting to organise themselves. Tears no longer spring to my eyes when I think about it and the big glob of emotion that choked my throat has settled like a layer of caramel in my stomach.
So what do I feel now?
A big part of it is pride. I built a school in rural Nepal. The more I say that the more it sinks in. I actually went to Nepal and built a school for impoverished children to become educated and get that step closer to making their dreams come true. Wow! If little old me can do that, the possibilities of what we can do together are endless! We really can change the world.
But if I'm honest, most of the pride isn't from me building a school, it's because of the people I've met while doing so. The amazing Edge of Seven people and the fantastic volunteers who make the world a better place just by being the type of people that they are. They all make me feel better about the world just by existing.
But I am most proud to know people like Khadga, Don Kumar, Dawa, Ram, Karma, the teachers of Phuleli and all the inspirational women of that small village. These people whose stamina, strength and ability to carry on through hardships where most westerners would crumple and fail makes me unbelievably proud to know them and count them as friends. The men and women of Phuleli will forever be my Dai's and Didi's. 


My life coach in London said she feels as though she should do some volunteering, that as a good person she should go build a school in Nepal too, not necessarily that she wants too. If you're sitting there thinking I should do some volunteering, don't think that you will be doing an amazing thing that no one else can do and receiving nothing in return. Anyone can go do it but only some very special people actually do. Those that make the effort will also receive in return a much bigger gift than a just a school.
Your eyes will be opened.
You don't need money, possessions, hot running water or to even be pain free to be happy. No words really describe the lesson learnt, you have to experience it for yourself. It will show you what is important in life - what really matters. And that alone is priceless.

"The plane took off from the little runway in Paplu as I struggled to breathe. I watched the wheels bump over the gravel until the ground give way to a steep cliff but that wasn't the trouble. I was leaving Solukhumbu. I didn't know if or when I would see my friends, the people of Phuleli, again. I tired to breath out but the big glob of emotion in my throat only allowed for a strangled cough. I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with these people, to stay as part of the village, to live in the hills and harvest millet and raise a family here. I wanted to shout to stop the plane, to let me off, that I didn't care about my life back in Australia that I wanted to stay here, where life is simple, where hardship makes every smile richer and where I felt at home. I was dirty, exhausted, hungry and cold but this is where I wanted to be more than anything. Tears streamed out from beneath my sunglasses. My world had been turned upside down."