You can’t have your cake…

‘You can’t have your cake and eat it too.’

The women of my family are almost famous for this phrase. It speaks to, in our case, a genetic disposition for becoming a martyr. It is used as an excuse to not have what you want, to not shower yourself with the gifts and indulgences you deserve, just in case.

It implies that having cake and eating it are mutually exclusive. Which is not necessarily true.

Let us first look at what it means to ‘have’ your cake. Do we honestly imagine we can keep a cake indefinitely? Surely not. This old proverb speaks to delayed gratification and wisely using what you have, not of our cake eating habits. Wisely using resources, be they love, time, money or luxuries, is timeless advice. What I find hard to swallow is the assumption that ‘having’ something precludes us from using it. I firmly believe the only real value in something is in its use and in sharing it.

Let me explain. As a child did you have clothes that you were never allowed to wear? The really pretty dresses that you Mum was afraid you would destroy if she let you wear them ‘around the house’? How many times did you wear said dress before you outgrew them?

How about the beautiful toy that was placed on a shelf only ever to be looked at incase a child were to break the toy amidst the joy of playing with it.

Do you own fine china? (Another of my little obsessions). Why do we insist on drinking our tea out of thick, cheap mugs when we have exquisite china tea cups? Isn’t their value the sensation of pressing the china to your lips and the feel of the delicate handle between your fingers?

Why do we use the informal lounge while the formal lounge, with the plush chairs and air-conditioning, only collects dust? The same goes for the expensive jewellery we never wear, the amazing bath salts we are saving and the gourmet condiments that sit on the shelf and are never opened.

Unless an item is truly irreplaceable, (in which case it probably belongs in a museum) enjoy it. Multiply the joy by sharing it with others. Make yourself feel special by knowing the value of the indulgence. You honour the intention of the object when it is used in this way too.

So if you aren’t eating your cake, I would challenge that is isn’t really yours to begin with. And if you don’t share the cake with others, then you are missing out; by sharing something you create more of it and multiply the joy.

**This piece was first published in the Online Magazine Connect2Mums.com.ning.au

A grand vision

A blogger recently said about 20somethings that they are characterised by holding a ‘Grand Vision’ of their lives that both serves to keep us optomistic but also makes it ‘dangerously easy to be underwhelmed at the banality of everyday life.’

I instantly saw the truth of the comment in myself, and a number of my friends. We were raised to know we could have and achieve anything we wanted- and we took it to heart. I clearly remember drawing my dream house that included a cinema (not as grandiose now as it was in grade 5), bowling alley, zoo, a water park, roller coaster, ice skating rink (the epitome of optomistic seeing as I am pathetic at anything that requires balance) and an arcade.

Leaving HighSchool we put together a yearbook which contained, amognst the photos and memories, our aspirations for the future. None of our aspirations were mediocre. Many said ‘to be happy’ but even these were accompanied by ‘own a successful business’ or ‘become a lawyer for the UN’. Some mentioned family and a career as an after-thought, totally naieve to the inherent difficulties.

Not that I’m a big one for blame, but I think the root cause of the banality that underwhelms us is that we were never shown behind the curtain. We knew to reach our ridiculously high goals we would have to work long, work hard and pull leavers. We didn’t know that long meant a decade, hard meant 60 hour weeks and that the leavers require a more than our body weight to shift.

In an effort to shield us from the ‘harsh realities’ of life we were shown the glory and not the guts it takes to attain it. So now we are a generation of optomistic 20somethings that are being blindsided by compiling taxes, doing the laundry, waking up next to the same person every day (even though they are the person of our dreams), nappy changes, beaurocracy, budgets…. and the list goes on.

Perhaps there is a certain value in not seeing the strings that make the puppets dance. We set the bar high – way high – and not knowing the level of resistance we will face, walk and confidently towards our dreams come what may. If we knew how many all-nighters, anxiety attacks and tears it would take we may never have earned the degree, started the company or had the baby. But look at what we would have missed.

Jack’s Back

John Farnham just announced another tour. Now I know that there have been varying reactions to this; his biggest fans are elated that his ‘Last Time’ tour wasn’t the last time at all and a former fan is making claims of misrepresentation. It’s all a result of his very short set at sound relief. Which, come to think of it, made me cry.

I’ll set the scene:

Chicken (my baby) is in his highchair eating lunch. Sweet potato spread from his eyebrows to his nappy. Sound relief on the radio. Coldplay and Farnsy performing ‘You’re the voice’.

I flash back to dancing around the living room with my Mum and sister as a kid to the Whispering Jack album.

Chicken raises his little hands into the air asking to be picked up. Moments later we are dancing around the living room together. He starts singing, remarkably in tune for a little tyke.

A tear rolls down my cheek as I realize it has come full circle. (Or perhaps as I realize that I’m turning into my mother.) I know deep in my bones that I’ll do everything I can to prevent my son every looking at anyone ‘down the barrel of a gun’.

Facebook’s saving grace

It took me forever to embrace Facebook. Now I use it daily, but initially I had no intention of using it. I saw no point in publicly messaging friends I would much rather call or have coffee with. The lure of seeing what old school classmates were doing and voyeuristically peering at their personal photos seemed creepy to me.

But alas, a friend posted the photos of her newborn on Facebook and I had to become a ‘Friend’ to view them. So I manically created a profile planning on deleting it as soon as I had seen her beautiful baby. It didn’t quite pan out that way – I spelt my own name wrong, and couldn’t figure out how to delete the damn profile before my friends found me.

Since that fateful day I have witnessed Facebook bring out the worst in people the way a 50% sale does in shopaholics. We passively view each other lives, post and make comments on the drunken photos, judge people by the size of their friends list and post photos of our engagement rings as profile pictures. Although Facebook can be used for good the lure of the dark side is just so powerful. There are apps that force you to inflict random, often unflattering, polls on your friends in order to view the results of a poll about you.

Despite the darkness interwoven in Facebook we have an uneasy truce. An old photo was posted of me on Facebook. Initially I was mortified. Not just in the ‘OMG I don’t believe I wore that’ way either. This photo was taken from a time when I used to sing country music and line dance every Tuesday night. (I don’t believe I admitted that in a blog)  Worse still was the fact that the other girls in the picture were all more beautiful, skinnier and more talented than me.

Then I actually looked at the picture. I looked at the figures on the screen and not the images as tainted by memory. I glowed with genuine joy, I looked innocent, beautiful and nothing like the chubby girl in my mind. I was flabbergasted. I had never seen myself that way before. Facebook’s saving grace – it reflects you. Good, bad or ugly.

Girlfriends

I had a client a few years back who was in her 70′s. Although her husband had long since past and her children, and grandchildren, lived interstate she enjoyed the richest of family lives. A book club that started some 40 years earlier was still meeting every Tuesday. The women of that club had seen each other through thick and thin. They advised on children’s illnesses, helped out with housework in emergencies, helped pick out mother of the bride outfits and organise coming of age celebrations. These were the women who held her hand at her husband’s funeral.

In our adolescent years our girlfriends keep us going. They are our rock, our companions, fellow explorers of the world and our partners in crime.

As we get older our girlfriends become something different. They are our sounding boards, inspirations (if you are lucky enough to have friends like mine), bringers of chocolate and wine when necessary, ass-kickers when needed, voices of reason, guardian angels, proof readers & loving guides. If you are really lucky your children will call them ‘Auntie so-&-so’.

Life gets busy and we all take different roads. I know I never imagined myself where I am now, and in many ways its is a long, long way from my girlfriends. The blessing is that I have true friends who meet me where I am, forgive me my transgressions and support the best in me.

So a big, no HUGE, shout out to all of Coopers ‘Aunties’ who enrichmy life and now my sons. I am proud to say that I, like my client, enjoy a rich family life.

Feeling Fragile

Strength is desireable. We all want to be considered a strong woman. Strength means we can rise to meet life. Strength means we could ‘make it’ with or without a partner. Strength means we can weather the storms and face the critism. Strength means we see obstacles as trampolines. Strength means that at our very core we have what it takes.

Strength doesn’t mean we wont be brought to our knees. I have witnessed the strongest women I know sobb. I have seen the strength it takes to really feel the overwhelming grief, anguish and swirling confusion. I know the courage  it takes to let your knees hit the ground.

Tears

Strength doesn’t make you a robot, immune to powerful emotions. Strength doesn’t ignore reality. Strength isn’t characterised by numbness, agression or denial.

A strong woman understands the power of surrender. Surrender to emotions, to reality. A strong woman knows not to resist the fire; that she will rise from the ashes like a beautiful phoenix. A strong woman knows that to be truly strong she must also be soft. A strong woman is gentle with herself when she feels fragile.

Lessons from Cooking

I love to cook. It hasn’t always been that way. In the 80′s when I was growing up there were a flood of cookbooks titled “Microwave cookery” and every new microwave came with a cookbook to teach you how to use the new kitchen contraption. Anything that helped, predominately women, to avoid using pots and pans and the subsequent washing up was the future of cooking. So other than occasions at my Nan’s house I didn’t see much cooking go on in my kitchen. Time spent cooking was wasted time that could have been netter spend doing something else. Or so I was taught.

It was a surprise to me when I moved out that I enjoyed the process of selecting produce and cooking a feast. The time spent cooking was pure delight. I decked myself out with good (read expensive) non stick fry pans. There were no shortage of TV advertisements touting the latest ad greatest advances in Teflon which I felt I had no choice but to take advantage of or else ruin my food. When I had a mid-week dinner to get on the table I used the hottest setting the stove had to hasten the cooking time knowing that the food wouldn’t stick to the pan.

Last month I bought myself a good (read quality) stainless steel pan and an enormous (read I can’t wait to cook paella) cast iron pan. I am using lower settings, producing better food and I am yet to burn a dish or stick anything to the pan.

Lesson:  Don’t buy into others pervasive fears even if those fears are accepted or in vogue. If you stick to quality and your values you will always come out on top.

Disappointment

Expectation is the mother of all disappointments. We will never get what we want. They day that we do we want something more, something different, ‘have you got it in antique white?’, ‘well yes it was great but…’.

Desire is our nature. Our thought processes are all about something we want or something we want to avoid. We want:

5 more minutes sleep, a hot cup of coffee, no traffic on the road, an empty email inbox, appreciation at work, the client to call before 2pm, the dress in the window on our way to lunch, to avoid the crowds at the food court, someone else to handle the mess waiting for us on our return to the office, people to pull their weight at work damnit!, the last half hour to fly by, for clients not to call 5 minutes before knock-off time, there to be a smooth run on the way home, to listen to Hamish & Andy on the way home, a creamy pasta for dinner – stuff the calories, to watch our favourite TV show, for the bottle of wine we opened to be nice, a piece (or block) of dark chocolate to accompany the wine, a long hot bath and a good nights sleep.

There is nothing wrong with desire, its what drives us on. Desire climbed Mt. Everest. Desire created (and nurtures) a family. Desire completed the degree. Desire vies for promotion. Desire makes the best chocolate cake you have ever eaten.

Desire is desirable. Expectation is not. Desire is an open ended question. Expectation is a closed question. Desire leads us in a direction. Expectation paints us into a corner.

Desire the most amazing things you can imagine. Desire the most decadent sweets, the most exciting adventures, the most supportive family, the most fulfilling career. But never, ever expect these things. The experience will allways fall short; for your reach will always exceed your grasp.

The Soap

I chuckled to myself as I fished yet another random object out of my son’s mouth this morning. It wasn’t the first time I have tossed a drool covered chunk of soap in the bin. It tastes as foul as I remember; my Mum once followed through on her threat to wash my potty-mouth out with soap. I even tasted some to make sure I didn’t make the mistake of buying yummy soap. It may be organic, but it sure as hell isn’t tasty.

I didn’t instantly wash his mouth with water in the hopes that the taste would remind him not only not to eat soap, but not to pick up random things and try to eat them. A gentle lesson from the school of hard knocks. Or so I thought. Not a minute later I spy the cheeky devil skulling water from his little green sippy-cup.

Lesson: When you make a mistake trust your instincts – you know how to fix it.

He is still picking up random things and trying to eat them, but this afternoon he is quick to spit out anything that tastes bad.

Lesson: Don’t let a bad experience stop you from trying new things. Learn from the bad and move on.

Loss & Letting go

Letting go is easy. Letting go is hard. Letting go is as hard as you make it. We have to let go of everything at some point. Sooner or later, by choice or by chance, we will let go of it all. Wouldn’t you prefer to let go rather than to lose?

Do you know when the end is near? Are you the one who leaves the last unreturned messages on their voicemail? Do you send the eloquent thank you card creating a dignified end? Do you avoid the other when things start to unravel? Do you pick a fight? Do you cry yourself a river? Do you turn to chocolate? Do you get nostalgic and sentimental?

Rose

Growth is the only evidence of life. Growth requires we let go of the past that no longer serves us to make room for the new. The most beautiful of roses drops a few leaves to redirect energy to the blooming bud. The rose feels no guilt, she understands the natural order of things. At the end of the season she drops blooms and leaves and retreats into herself to prepare for the next season. She is not saddened by the withering flowers; makes no attempt to convince them to stay on.

So why do we feel the sharp sting of an ended friendship and the dull ache for the end of an era? Why do we continue to grasp & wish the end away? There is tremendous grace in bowing out. Amazing peace in having gratitude for what was.

Letting go hurts when we judge the loss as unfair. Letting go is liberating when we see it as a natural cycle. The choice is ours.

The lessons of loss are to enjoy it now for what it is because the pleasure may be short lived.

And that nothing that can be lost will bring us real & lasting happiness; we are responsible for our happiness with or without it.

Would you believe me?

If I told you that I was motivated to get healthy, and then kept skipping the gym, would you believe me?

If I told you I was inspired to write, and then didn’t post any blogs for a week, would you believe me?

If I told you I was dedicated to my partner, and then blew off date night for drinks with colleagues, would you believe me?

If I told you I was committed to reducing my debt, and then ran up a new outfit on my credit card, would you believe me?

Why? Why wouldn’t you believe me?

You wouldn’t believe me because my actions (or inaction) belie my intentions. Inspiration; Motivation; Dedication; Commitment are all meaningless and arguably non-existence in the absence of action. Such is the importance of Action.

Action takes inspiration and turns it into a best selling novel. Action takes motivation and turns it into a healthier body. Action turns dedication into a new skill and turns commitment into a healthy relationship.

There is a reason that they say that the journey of a 1000 miles begins with a single step and not the inspiration to travel.

So next time you feel uninspired take a step – the inspiration will follow.

Catching up

Do you feel like you are getting left behind? Like your life is whizzing past faster than you can keep up with? How often do you use the phrase ‘catching up’? We catch up for coffee, catch up on paperwork, catch up with family, catch up on the shows we missed when we were catching up with colleagues for drinks.

The culture of busy-ness and hurrying is a multi-faceted beast. It arises in part out of the information age and the resultant tirade of information and part out of the demise of rites of passage.

The information age, which to 20somethings like myself is the only age we have ever known, bombards us with thousands of media messages each day. This is additional to the work we do, the family responsibilities we have, the Facebook updates and Twitter feeds, the SMSs and calls we get on our mobiles, home lines, work phones and Skype. We do our best to surf the crest of the information (and thus expectation) wave. Some days we go to bed feeling like we failed our loved ones when we declined invitations, left emails unread, status updates unresponded to and messages not returned.

Then we are told, often by coaches like myself, that keeping our head above water isn’t enough. Even if you did accept the invitation, read the emails, respond to the updates and return the messages, did you engage in your world on a meaningful level? Did you connect with loved ones or take calls all the way through dinner? We resolve to do better, but the cycle of bombardment, response and lingering feeling of falling behind is unrelenting. So we try again to ‘catch up’.

In the good ‘ol days there were fewer messages yes, but the days and years were broken up with meaningful rites of passage. Times to celebrate, reflect and connect with those around us; Weddings, Christenings, 21st Birthdays, Sweet Sixteenths, Anniversaries, Kitchen Teas. Yes these events still happen and we mark them with a party but I think they have lost the element of reflection. What once were rites have become invitations and photos we review on Facebook. The wisdom they once held has evaporated.

So if you are tired of running behind your life, catching up here and there only to be overwhelmed again why not try something different. Put away the phones and laptops and have dinner and talk. Have a get together and talk about times past and notice how different you are ‘now’ to ‘then’. Punctuate the merry-go-round with something different. Create memories. Go places. Meet people. Perhaps then the information age ‘pressure’ to connect won’t overwhelm us.