It's time to go... values

Lately it seems my Facebook feed has been inundated with announcements of my previously vegetarian friends getting back on meat. The status update is typically met with lots of 'likes', lots of congrats, and lots of invitations to head out for a parma*

Putting my vego ideals beside, I've been wondering what is it their friends are really celebrating? 'My friend had a really strong, personal conviction about something they believed in, but now they can't be bothered keeping it up'? Or, 'Thank god, one less person to make me feel guilty about cage eggs'?

I commented on one announcement with a simple, 'I couldn't do that'. Not judging, but in genuine bewilderment. There are so many reasons I choose to live a vegetarian lifestyle, how could I possibly turn my back on them?

But then I remembered. I remembered 18-year-old Lucy, when all her friends slowly but surely, began to leave the Pentecostal church, turning to her youth pastor and declaring, 'I could never do that.' Followed by a desperate attempt to reason - 'I guess they didn't love Jesus as much I do'.

Okay - I'm getting to my point. I did leave the church, and it was a massive decision. I'd identified as a Christian for 23 years, and giving up the title was difficult, but it didn't change who I was. And my friends, who have returned to their pre-vege lifestyle, haven't changed. They're still the same people.

If we're not defined by our values, what are we defined by? We're not defined by how we look, or where we live. We're not defined by how much money we earn, or how many friends we have. We can't even say we're defined by our words, or our actions, because they only ever paint half the picture at best.

I like to think we're defined by our heart - by our capacity to love. I gave up church, but I still love people, I still love the world. I still live to share love with whoever I can. I could give up being a vegetarian and still love animals. I could still be an advocate for animal rights, and I could still be the parent of the happiest, healthiest dog in the park. I would still be me (but I couldn't do that).

Not to encourage you to all go out and throw away your passions, your convictions, your beliefs, but just to remind you - Barack Obama changed his value on gay marriage. Richard Muller changed his beliefs on climate change. I changed my mind about eating a McDonalds double quarter pounder with cheese. Never be afraid to question what you believe in, and check that your 'value' matches your heart.



(*or parmie, depending if you're in Tasmania or Victoria).

There's no such thing as free love

I've been lucky enough to spend the last few months with the guy I always imagined myself with, in the relationship I always wanted, feeling the love I'd always hoped to feel.

Everything else in my life has lost importance. I don't care about the car I drive, the bed I sleep on. I don't care about going out for fancy meals or drinking fine wine. I don't need to go out to the movies, or go on overseas holidays - I just want to be where he is.

So is it true, then? Are the best things in life free?


Meet my friend, Kate. She is one of the kindest, most gentle, most loving girls I have ever met. She has a beautiful son she adores, and a husband who is her best friend. She is living the life I hope for when I am her age, with a grace I will only ever be able to fake.

Then, one day, every thing changes. Her husband doesn't want a family anymore, he wants to drink wine on a school night, eat in front of the television and stay out all night. He wants to be twenty again. And so he leaves her.

Kate finds strength she never knows she had. She protects herself and her son as best as she can. But she hurts.


I took my man out for vegan pizza and told him how frightened I was. That I have a happiness I never knew without him, and I have more to lose than ever. I told him I wanted to trust our relationship, to trust us enough that I could know that would never happen to me.

I expected him to assure me he'd never leave me. To promise that we would be different. We were a perfect fit, the lucky ones who got it right.

He made no such promises. Only that we'd do the very best we could, and if we failed, we'd still be okay.


It's not the stuff fairy tales are made of, it didn't read like the script in my head, instilled from Hollywood expectations of love and happily ever after.

It meant that to love him completely would come with a cost. The price I pay for love is the risk of losing him. It's a gamble.

No, it's not a gamble, it's an investment. I can make a wise investment, get sound advice, choose low risk stocks. But there is no certainty in life, and certainly not in love.


I watched a documentary this week about free love. My new fave Brit, Dawn Porter, stayed in a free love community and searched past its all accepting, all generous and painless exterior, to find the loss, the insecurity and the fear of it's residents.

We're naive to believe we can live a full life without paying for it. And maybe Kate's husband, when the thrill of mid-week hangovers and walks of shame wears off, will realise he stopped paying for love, and therefore doesn't deserve it.

Because we do make sacrifices, we compromise, we change to fit the one we choose. It's a cost, a price we pay. And we can't expect to yield the high returns if we don't make the investments, and re-invest the dividends*.

You know what tho? I reckon he's worth it.


*I haven't used so many analogies since I spoke in the Christian church...

nineteen eighty-five

*This blog is dedicated to my boy, Shaun, who turns two on Tuesday. You've taught me more about unconditional love than any person I've ever met. And I love you.*

On Saturday morning I had the fabulous opportunity to spend some quality time with some old, dear friends. You absolutely take old friends for granted until you move away from the place you grew up, and its simply marvelous when two people you have known for over 15 years marry and live in the same city you do now. I'm so grateful for my friends Robb and Phillipa, because they know me. I never have to justify myself, excuse myself. They know me, they know my intentions, and they trust me. And on Saturday, I carpooled with two very precious new friends to Yarraville, for brunch.

But I haven't even got to the truly wonderful bit yet. Phillipa's parents were visiting from Tasmania, and would be joining us for raspberry and white chocolate muffins, fruit salad, sourdough and mercy valley cheese.

I can't explain how special it was to eat, drink tea, and talk with this amazing collection of people. People that I feel safe around. People I feel connected to, loved by. And as I was giving Phillipa's mum a big kiss goodbye, I shared something with her that I'd only just realised to be true:

I am absolutely loving everything about getting older. Not for one minute do I wish I was fourteen again. Or eighteen again. Or 21 again. Especially not 23 again. I've discovered an age where you feel confident, loved, respected. Where you are challenged, needed, and important.

I love having a little guy in my life who truly needs me. Shaun and I are best friends, we are family. And if I don't come home he shits on the carpet. Because he needs me.

But also he wants me.

Family is an incredible institution, and I'm lucky to have some amazing relationships with people in my family. I also spend time heartbroken for the cousins that are growing up so fast and if I'm lucky, I get to play lego with once a year. But my family is unique. If we don't like you, there's a pretty good chance we probably just won't talk to you. We don't have an overwhelming bond of 'family' that forces us to love each other unconditionally. And while sometimes I wish for that - there is something to be said for the fact that every person who is in my life is there because they want to be.

And so, this sappy blog comes to you from one very loved up, very happy girl. Because this weekend I was able to spend time with special friends, old and new, celebrate my baby boy's second birthday, and see Tom Ballard live at the MICF.

I'm not sure when I realised I was living the life I had always hoped for, living the life I wanted for myself. I have it. And I'm not even afraid to jinx it.

Also, wisdom and experience tells me life isn't perfect. And it won't be. But I'm not scared of imperfection. Of heartbreak. Of pain. Because everything I have experienced so far in my life has brought me to this point.

Also I have an incredible safety net. The wonderful people, who after knowing me for 15 years, still want to know how my week was. And the people I've just met - who want to come to the beach for my dog's second birthday.

~

When you're busy making plans

Last week I had the rug swept from under me. The plans that I'd been so happily making over the last few months were stolen in a moment.

It happens all the time, of course. 99% of our lives are outside of our control. We share this world with people, with mother nature, and we get very little that we can control.

They're the things I like to focus on, obviously. I can control my values, my behaviours. I choose what to eat, how to look after my body (albeit determined to some extent by the outside factors; finance, time...). I choose what type of person I want to be, what kind of employee, friend, partner, mother I want to be seen as.

That's great and all; but it's not enough to build a life for yourself - and so you let other people in. You plan holidays, you share houses, you form relationships that offer you the things you can't do by yourself. You trust. You hope. You cross your fingers and pray for the best.

And when the worst happens? You breathe. You scream. You curse. You shake it off. And you make new plans. Because that's what we do - and what we do best.

I didn't ever imagine being a single 26 year old girl with a puppy and a lease and a car I can't afford on my own. But I'm here. And I'm making plans again.

I'm making new plans; the kind of fun, spontaneous plans only a single girl can make. Plans for travel, for adventure. And if some dashing, ruggard and athletic man comes and pulls the rug from under those plans - well then I'll just have to make new ones again.

I rarely look back to my church days fondly, but there is one scripture I remember and think of often. It's in the book of Jeremiah (chapter 29, for anyone that would like to look it up). God told Jeremiah to build homes, and plan to stay. To plant trees and eat the fruit they produce. To marry and have children. The great thing about this story, is that Babylon, where Jeremiah was living at the time, was later destroyed. And assuming God would have known this in advance (that's the theory remember) he still told Jeremiah to knuckle down and make plans.

I think of this often - a gal that's moved as many times as I have still has to find a way to feel at home. So I always plan to stay. Even when I know I likely won't. I plant things in the garden, I make the effort to 'finish' decorating the house. I make sure that wherever I am, is home. Whoever I am with, is family.

The other thing I'm thinking about at the moment, is the plans that got lost before you made these last lot of plans. What did you have to sacrifice in order to make room for your new plans? What can you put back on your list of 'things to do'?

John Lennon says 'Life is what happens when your busy making plans.' But I disagree. I think life is what happens when your plans turn to shit, and you look around, see where you are, and realise there's still plenty of places you can go.

And that's my thought for this week.

all of me

This weekend I witnessed the pain of failing love; the moment in my friends eyes when they realised that love isn't enough. The moment they realised you can't love enough, can't love the way you want to, because it isn't there.

I write about love a lot. I'm a hopeless romantic for love. I believe in love. I want to see love overcome all. But sometimes it doesn't.

I believe the reason love fails is because its all consuming, or its nothing. To love something you need to love all of something. You can't love nachos if you don't love cheese. You can't love Melbourne if you don't love the rain. You can't love the beach if you don't love sand.

And you can't love a person if you don't love everything about them.

Passion will sustain love for so long, so will excitement, companionship, joy, adventure. But love will leave if you don't accept the person for who they are completely. Accept, and cherish. Accept, and celebrate.

It takes a long time to find all of someone. To discover the small things, the things that make you smile, the things that make you cringe. I've had James in my life for three years now, and I'm still finding all of him, and he's still finding all of me.

When you find something new, love changes. It increases, or it goes away. But it can't stay the same, because in love's eyes, you've changed. There is something more to know, and you can't un-know it.

Once you've heard somebody say something, you can't un-hear it. Once you've seen someone do something, you can't un-see it. But once you've felt something, you can un-feel it.

Love will leave, and when it does, it's because it wasn't there for all of you. And a love that doesn't love all of you, isn't the love you want.

Because that love will come, and it will stay. Because it can't leave. It's yours.

Raising Shaun

Things I've learned in 2010, courtesy of one young Beagleier
(...and a few others)

1 - Life is better shared with someone you love.
2 - A good diet and lots of exercise makes you happy, healthy and better company.
3 - Sometimes you know what's better for someone than they do (eg. onions).
4 - Sometimes they don't care (eg. cake).
5 - When you love someone, you never give up on them. You never judge them. You're never ashamed of them them. You just want to hug them.
6 - Unconditional love takes you away from work, away from your own problems, and makes you be a better person.
7 - Family is precious and should never be taken for granted, or abused.
8 - It takes quality time to build a special relationship. Time, and a lot of patience.
9 - A new puppy might move in next door and steal your heart for a minute, but true love always finds its way back home.
10 - Life is better shared with someone you love.

Best thing I've learned in 2010? Love. Find the right person (or puppy) and love them with everything you can. Choose love every day. It makes you a better person, and makes the world a better place.

So my New Years Day message is simple: Fall in love in 2011. Fall in love for the first time, or fall in love all over again.

And to the boy who truly changed my life, James, thanks for loving me. You make me better.

... and they said it wouldn't last.

This week I'm using my blog for something completely self-serving: I'm paying tribute to two of my favourite boys: Tim & Anthony.

Today is their 12 month anniversary and I couldn't be happier for them. Now I know we all have battles in relationships. All of us struggle, act irrational, act crazy even because of this little thing called 'love' that takes us over. But wow - do these boys have to fight.

I've always had issues with the concept of love. Why? Because it's so undefinable. I love food. I love New York City. I love my dogs. I love books. I love James. I love lentil pie. I love my brother. I love my colleagues. I love the Beckhams. I love my parents, but in completely different ways.

See the point I'm making? It's all love, and I won't back down from that. And I will never let anyone legitimise the love I feel for all the above listed items.

The time I've spent watching Tim & Anthony fall in love over and over, deeper and deeper has been an absolute privilege (well, mostly - I make sure Tim knows when I don't appreciate it...). The times I catch their stolen looks, hear their silly giggles, see them in matching outfits - hell, it's awesome.

I love these boys. And I will spend the rest of my life fighting for the right for their love to be as legitimate as any other.

I'm so proud of you both, every day. You are true heroes, and make the rest of us look like wimps.

Happy Anniversary. I love you Xxx