No one told me

No one told me...

It's not the first week in, even the first month year, or child.

A couple of years into parenting, and you realise. No one told me it would be like this.

Ready, aim, fire

It has crept up on me a bit, but I am 26 weeks pregnant. As I get closer and closer to 30 weeks (the gestation I had Ada, the 'big' milestone) I am feeling a strange sense of calm with a tinge of nerves.

When I was 26 weeks pregnant with Ada I had no idea we only had 4 weeks to go. This time we are ready for anything. 

As we wait, and tick off the days, I have prepared myself for any possibility. My hospital bag is packed *just in case*. Ada will be beginning part time daycare later this month, for many reasons, and one is so that she is settled into a new centre *just in case* things happen and she needs more care hours.  Baby's room is a work in progress but all the essentials are ready, waiting, for whenever they are needed.

Keeping my mind open to the possibility of baby being here in a month, in two or three is strange and mind-bendy. Not knowing the future but knowing in deep detail the 'possible' futures and trying to juggle them while not letting them overwhelm requires strong will.

I was at a women's conference a few weeks ago, and one of the speakers talked about the stages of shooting an arrow. I love a good metaphor, so this resonated with me.

When you prepare to shoot an arrow, you put the arrow in the bow, and draw the arrow back with vision, but also with a stretch, with tension.

My vision is a full term pregnancy, but even imagining this does come with some tension! Tension of what my mind knows, of my beliefs, of what I trust. 

Before you can release the arrow your body needs to be in an anchoring stance (one leg behind the other, with balance in the body), this gives stabilisation to the body. The full body is engaged in this act.

I am doing everything I can to keep my body aligned. Medications, scans, regular blood pressures and so on. In the end my body will take it's own course, whatever that may be, but I sure as hell am doing all I can to keep it in line.

When the arrow is released it is done so with power and intention, until it smashes the target.

My target right now is 30 weeks of pregnancy, and my mind is set on that goal and of breaking it, of conquering, defeating. I truly believe this is possible, and at the same time don't quite believe it will happen.

Another speaker at this conference reminded me that life and growth happens in the journey, not just in the high/low lights. Whatever the outcome of this pregnancy journey, whether it's a high or a low, I know I have been stretched and grown in immeasurable ways. I certainly would not be who I am today, without walking where I have, and for that I am grateful.

I suppose what I feel right now, is that while I'm ready for anything, I'm hoping for the best and believing I can handle whatever comes my way.

Ready, aim, fire. Come at me 30 weeks. I'm waiting.

Seven times

Seven times I have seen you already baby, in under 15 weeks of pregnancy.

The first time, at 5 weeks, with a scan for bleeding, we couldn't see you but only a sac.

The second time, at 6 weeks, to check you were really there, I saw your heartbeat and the wee dot that you were.

The third time, at 8 weeks, a scan for bleeding again, we saw a bigger smudge with tiny nub limbs.

The fourth, at 11 weeks, in my obstetricians office, I quickly saw your face for the first time.

The fifth, the 12 week scan, we saw you as a baby. Your face, lips, nose chin. Your body and tiny feet and hands.

The sixth, at 13 weeks, in ED for bleeding, I cried when I saw your heart still beating.

And the seventh, at 14 weeks, at the hospital for constant bleeding, I saw you again.

This pregnancy has been a rollercoaster of worry. It seems like nothing has gone smoothly, and weekly, daily I am tested and do not know if you are alive or gone.

The last two times I have seen you, I have been so on edge, thinking the worst. And I'm sorry baby, because I know my emotional state effects you too.

Seven times you have proven to me that you are strong, you are growing, you are doing what you need to do.

And I've made a decision. Not that I won't worry. That would be a promise I'm sure I can't keep. 

I've decided that when I worry I will consciously remember that I have seen you seven times before. That each time you have proven that I should trust you to grow. Each time I've prayed that you'll be ok and each time my prayer has been answered.

Thank you baby for proving my worst fears wrong time and time again. I can't wait to meet you later this year and to snuggle you close. I love you already.

Mummy x

The second time around

Things are different this pregnancy, but some things are comfortingly familiar too.

The vomiting and mornings spent over the sink. Except this time I have a mini me who likes to imitate my retching sounds and laugh to herself.

The bone tiredness that has lead me to fall asleep at work twice...! And to plonk Ada in front of a dvd in hopes I'll get a few minutes shut eye (didn't work).

The anxiety and worry of early pregnancy have been similar to the first. An ED trip, 3 urgent scans, lots going on and not much happening. Once again I am relieved and thankful to have made it to the second trimester.

This time I am well looked after, but pregnancy has lost it's innocence. Daily injections, regular check ups, scans and tests. Talks of percentages of pre-eclampsia, abruptions and blood clots, and chances of making it to my August due date (very unlikely.) Discussions of risks and hospitals capabilities and staying close to medical care at all times. Things are different.

The joy of seeing out wee bean transform from a smudge to an alien like creature, to a wee baby is still as strong as the first pregnancy. Perhaps even stronger, as now I know what that wee dot is likely to grow into one day.

Hi my baby!

All in all I'd say pregnancy is one big waiting and trusting game. Those close to me will know the times I've struggled with worry and the times I've tried my best to trust my body and trust my baby. I believe God has a plan for this baby, and I believe that whatever may come our way, I, we, are strong enough to get through.

Today, I'm just enjoying the growing bump and anticipating the kicks to come. Trying not to think too far ahead, but imagining life with a sweet babe again in our arms.

My village

I've been meaning to write for a while about the ebb and flow of friendships. I've been mulling it over, as I've seen my friendships change as I've become a mother.

When Ada was born (in quite dramatic fashion) I remember being surprised at who showed up at the hospital, who supported us, texted me to check on me, brought gifts and who didn't. I'll be honest- at the time I was kinda annoyed that some people who I thought were friends I never heard from. But I can see now that they probably just didn't have the faintest clue how to respond in that situation. And I've found some people assume that when you become a Mum you're not interested in doing the things you used to. Which can be true but isn't always. I'm still me.

Becoming 'me' again

The first year after having a baby is rough huh.

My identity took a hit in such a big way in those first few months. I didn't know that 'who I was' was so tied up in 'what I do with my time' but it was.

I remember really struggling in the early months with days that (felt to me) like they were not purposeful. I was on a three hour cycle of breast feed, bottle feed, tube feed, pump, sleep- rinse and repeat. I felt like I achieved nothing (although of course I did I KEPT MY BABY ALIVE which is amazing in itself.)

In those early months everything is inward focused- just baby and me. No one else can really penetrate that bubble and it feels so lonely.

Gradually as time went on, as A grew and became slightly less dependant, I was able to lift my head and start to look outwards, beyond us. I was able to meet friends for coffees again. I was able to go back to church and connect groups. I was able to spend time with Matt. These were just short snippets of time where it wasn't just 'me and baby' but of course gradually these times became more and more often.

I started doing a little work again when A was about 7 months old and it was SO amazing to feel like 'me Jenn' again instead of 'Mama Jenn.' I really valued the times I could work as 'me' time, which is so strange as I never would have felt like work was 'me time' in the past. Just a few hours to talk to and listen to adult conversation, to snatch a coffee and think about things beyond my world was so good for the soul.

For 2 years (during pregnancy and A's first year) I did not take any care around what I ate. I piled on the kgs in a serious way when pregnant and they dropped slowly after she was born. In that time I barely exercised either. I remember trying to work out again when A was about 3 months old and I ended up nearly fainting on my kitchen floor. I wasn't ready yet and that was ok. But now, as she has turned 1, I have started to do more regular exercise and be much more aware about what I'm eating (not in a restrictive way- in a healthy 'giving my body good fuel' way.) It feels so nice to be taking care of my body and I am feeling much healthier and stronger than I have in a long time.

And Matt and I managed our first night away from A last weekend. It was such a great time to reconnect and talk and just 'be' together. We missed A lots, but 24 hours was a good time to be able to recharge our marriage again before picking her up. 

Baby A herself has changed too of course. She doesn't need me to be with her all the time now, and I have loved seeing her grow from a dependent newborn to a more independent happy toddler. She is happy with others, and LOVES being with other children, which means I am happy to leave her in care as I work more.

Gradually over the year I feel like I've moved from being an insular inward facing person to opening up again and being 'me' again- albiet with a baby in tow- but she makes life so much richer!

I feel like I have found my rhythm again. As a family we've settled into a nice pattern of daily life, with both Matt and I having time for us and ourselves with plenty of family time thrown in.

Baby A brings such richness and joy to our lives everyday and it's so nice to finally be able to work out who we are as individuals and as a family.

Home

Time away with family and friends over the christmas period is so special. A time that has been anticipated for months. Time for hugs, food, stories and being together. Time to cherish and remember as we all go our separate ways again.

Time to reminisce and look forward, to create precious memories.

This time is so special, and yet, coming home is special too.

In our own place, just the three of us, back to normal, routine, but far from mundane.

Holidays are special but so is the everyday.

There is no place like home.

Happy 2015 everyone xx

A wonderful, ordinary life.

Tonight I heard one of the simplest sermons I have heard in a long time, and it was refreshing in it's simplicity.
'An ordinary life can be a wonderful life.'

I've written on the topic before, but this talk resonated with me again.

Actually it wasn't so much a sermon, as a look at the movie 'It's a wonderful life.' In the movie 'George' is unfulfilled  he feels he hasn't achieved his dreams, and his discouragement leads him to contemplate suicide. Luckily for him, a (slightly awkward) guardian angel is on hand to help him out. George wishes he 'had never been born,' and soon finds out what the world would have been like without him. His wife is now a sad spinster (this movie was made in the 40s....), his family company has closed down, he wasn't alive to save his brother as a child and so those that his brother saved later in life are now all dead too. George is so distraught at this world and begs for things to go back to how they were.
And like that (because voila- in magical movie land anything can happen) he is back to his life.

Except what was before seemed depressing, hopeless and mundane to him was now magic- full of joy and love and excitement.

It's all a matter of perspective and realisation that even an 'ordinary' life impacts and touches so many.

A refreshing, and simple reminder for a Sunday afternoon.

Conditional Love

The concept of (un)conditional love has been on my mind lately.

I am looking at it from a Christian perspective, but even if you aren't a Christian, you can probably relate to the idea that we all want to be loving people. Society admires Mother Theresa, we make heroes of people who risk their lives for others, we love to watch feel good videos of people helping old ladies across the street.

Some people think at the core of humanity is darkness waiting to get out. I like to believe the opposite; we are all good people at the core, with other things that crowd around and drown the goodness out.

I think we like the idea of being people who can love unconditionally, but I know for myself its become abundantly clear that my love is conditional.

What do I mean by love? I don't mean the gooey romantic stuff, or familial love, I mean the 'treat others how you want to be treated,' kind of love. Respect, understanding and patience towards others. Putting them before yourself (yes, I know this is insanely hard). Thats what I mean by love.

It's easy to love people who love us. So nice to chat to that person I get on with well. Nice to buy a coffee for my friend who cares about me. And easy to give time to people who give time back.

But its so hard to love people who drive badly, who are socially weird, who are not very nice, or who are shy and awkward to talk to. People who clog our streets smelling bad, or the colleague who makes cutting remarks.

I don't love those people. But how should I? How would I want to be treated if I were them?

I honk and roll my eyes at bad drivers, but if I do something stupid on the road I appreciate it when the other person just smiles at me, shrugs their shoulders. No aggression, just understanding.

I appreciate it when I am standing alone at a party or gathering, when someone comes and makes an effort to talk to me, instead of just going to their friends.

And when I'm in a bad mood and speak cutting words, I appreciate it when those around me forgive me and just let it go. I usually feel bad enough about it anyway.

It was recently pointed out to me by a straight talking family member that I'm not very patient. And I'm not. I have no problem rolling my eyes, shooting obvious glances at my watch, sighing loudly. But thats not love at all. Thats putting me first. And it's so hard to break a habit like that. I'm not saying I think I can anytime soon. But awareness is the first step in breaking a habit, right?

Love is more than just the big moments, its the small things too. The withheld sighs, the smile instead of a frown. It's making a cup of tea even though you want to leave. It's really listening to someone without just waiting till you can say your piece. It's giving up the chair on the bus, it's waking up early to make lunch for someone instead of sleeping in.

And not just to people who 'deserve' it.

All of those examples relate to my life, I bet you can think of many more related to you.

Just to be clear, I don't think we should be pushovers. But we can be assertive instead of aggressive and still be kind people.

To be honest I don't think I can ever love unconditionally, completely. No human can. Although we have good in us, we have a great skill at being insanely selfish too. But I can damn well try. And isn't that the best we can do?

(all photos link to the original source).

Wishing it away

I have been searching for the words for weeks to write my thoughts. Isn't it funny how our feelings, thoughts and emotions can escape words, slip from us like butter melting, eluding being caught down.

I found this post, and it helped me to articulate my thought. The base of it is, I have been feeling a bit boring, settled, un spontaneous, familiar lately.

There's me, Friday night, waiting for my take away dinner, before I go home for an evening alone, watching X Factor and Glee. Maybe I would be doing some dishes, for extra fun.
I would see all these young things, going out with friends, having drinks at bars. And I would feel left out. Like I had left that part of my world behind, and now I was boring. As if the most exciting parts of my life have already slipped by.

Then, I would mentally check myself. Do I really want to go back to those days? I didn't have a whole heap of direction, and spent too much time and money on things unworthy of my student bank account. I had many friends were fleeting, and momentary. BUT, in that was the huge sense of possibility, and potential for life. Who knew what would come, but it could be anything!

Since getting that wedding band, since 'settling down,' I have been looking back on that part of my life. A tad lamentful. A tad jealous of my other self.

But, I was trying to grasp, catch something that is gone. And so it should be. And I was starting to believe the lie, 'the grass is always greener......'

Don't get me wrong, this was not on my mind the whole time. Only small, dark moments, like at the takeaway store, would this fear of having missed out, prick, pierce me. And then I would close it up, swallow it and move on.

But, I have decided to confront this head on. I have had a good talking to with myself. Something like 'each stage of life has its good and bad points. You wouldn't rather go back would you? Oh, and hang on Jenn, back then, weren't you just whiling away your days till you found someone, till you could settle down.?'

In every stage of life, I have found myself lamenting for something to come, or something in the past. Why is it so hard to enjoy the present?

Small gnawing lies can be the undoing of us, so it's now time to sew this one up and close it for good.
Because in all my moments, apart from those few dark ones, I am completely happy and content, being settled. Being a wife, having a job I love and spending time with family- there is nothing more I could want. I don't need grand moments, big gestures to make me happy. The small things, the mundane moments of life- thats where real joy is.

And if we allow lies to creep in, the joy to be sucked out of these moments, well then we're in trouble. Because the grass always seems greener, but it isn't really. We have to make joy from what we have now, live in the present moment, not dreaming in our heads of days gone by, or to come.

Because, whats the point of living life, wishing it away?

The sex myth

I have been pondering posting this for a while. I'm not sure if its 'appropriate' or ok for me to post this, but it's been on my mind. I've read and re-read this post and have decided to go with it.
Don't worry, I'm not going to use any personal examples (ick!). But if the title of this post is freaking you out, well best you be on your merry way... come back next time, I'll be back to my tame self, I promise.

Moving on.

There's a big problem out there I think. It's to do with sex. More specifically, how we're lied to about how sex should be, from movies, books, magazines, music videos, advertising and so on. And, I think many people, when they finally settle into a marriage (or committed relationship), might find themselves a bit dismayed that the reality doesn't live up to the (constructed) fantasy. And I think this can be really damaging to relationships.

I'm not here to discuss whether our world is showing sex too much in the media, or whether we should just not watch that stuff so we won't see/hear the lies.
But we can't deny the fact that this stuff is in our face. Whether we should turn completely away from it is another topic.

Anyway. You all know how the media portrays sex. I don't need to get into details. You don't even need to think of shows like 'Sex in the city' (although you could), even more tame shows or movies that just hint at sex, still often show the mythical version. There is a portrayal of sex that shows the couple as completely in tune the whole time, perfectly beautiful, no embarrassing moments, and *ahem* enjoying themselves at exactly the same time, every time, several times in a row.


There is also the portrayal (primarily in magazines like Cosmo, or music videos), that women must dress oh so sexy, for their man, with the aim to please the guy. And apart from being completely sexist, it's wrong. Reality doesn't work that way.

We pick up these ideas about sex over the years and years of being exposed to it (wanted or not.) And when the time comes for a relationship, I think many of us have a distorted view of  whats healthy and normal.

Most of us understand the lies about body size, beauty and oh so perfect relationships that the media presents to us. But, because sex isn't talked about as much, I think this one is often overlooked, and not pointed out.

So, I think, when a couple is about to get married, someone (close and trusted) might need to give them a reality check. A few small pointers from someone could set the scene for a healthy and realistic relationship. We all know sex is great, but often it is very different to what we're told.

And that is my final word on that.

The real cause of famine

I've recently been studying a development studies paper, and what I have learned has shocked me.

I, like many people, believed the cause of famine to be a lack of food, of too many people in the world. This is not the case at all. There is more than enough food to go round in this world, and population growth is not an issue. In many cases, when there has been famine in a country, there has been enough food for the starving to eat - they just couldn't afford it.

So, famine could be avoided. Its just the inability of people to command and afford food that leads them to starvation. It is a lack of capital, a lack of money that kills them.

And while 850 million people starve, over 2 billion face obesity. Ironic much?

The causes of famine are complex and interlinked. Unlike the ads we see on TV, famine is not caused solely by a drought or a war. These factors are like the last straw on the camels back. Years and years of the following cause famine:

• Colonialism, and takeover of land and traditional pastoral farming, leads to less food.
• Colonialism and expansion of western style farms (which don't work on African soils.)
• Colonialism and the African traditional ways (which have afforded them survival for all of human history) being seen as backwards and inferior
• Western centric thinking, and seeing people in these countries as being unable to help themselves
• Years and years of government debt, and with debt repayment meaning less money for public healthcare, education and food
• Corrupt governments and companies (both in third and first world countries.)

Western governments have seen food aid as the solution, and have 'dealt' with famine this way. But the issues are as follows

• Western food is very hard for people to cook and eat
• Food aid is shipped from donor countries and takes months to arrive (too late).
• Food aid can be diverted by a corrupt government
• Food aid does not solve the underlying issue of ongoing famines.
• Food aid undervalues the food that is grown in the country (its value goes down.)

Many NGOs now advocate for

• Food vouchers or cash, to stimulate the local economy and farmers
• Bottom up solutions using the knowledge and resources of the people who live there
• Less western ideologies

It has sickened me to learn that our obsessive thinking that the western world is 'developed' and the 'best' has been such a big part in famine in Africa. Of course, we should have realised our ideologies and farming practices and so on would not work there, as their land type and geography is completely 'un-western.'

It sickens me that in a world of plenty, it is money and western dominance that keeps these countries locked in a cycle of famine.

Here is a great blog post that can articulate this disgusting tragedy so much more than I can.

Legacy

It was my parents 30th wedding anniversary recently

I don't know about you, but 30 years seems like a long time. Longer than I have been alive. Longer than I can comprehend being with one person. I vowed to Matt to be with him till death parts us, and God willing that will be a lot longer than 30 years. Its just so hard, from this end of a marriage, to even imagine what we'll be like when we celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. 

I can imagine the obvious of course - a few kids who will not really be kids anymore. Maybe they're off at uni? Finding love of their own? Maybe we'll own our own house, and maybe we'll still live in wellington. Will we still be working at the same jobs?

But all that stuff is immaterial really. I can conjure that up in my mind. But I can't imagine me in 30 years, and I can't imagine me and matt. What will our love be like? What will we have weathered together? What will we have achieved, and what type of parents, of lovers, will we be?

We're both so lucky to have great parents as relationship role models. Matt's parents have been married for over 30 years

And we both have a whole host of grand parents and relatives whose love stood the test of time. Aren't we blessed to have those who can show us how to love? Who have been through ups and downs, and are more in love than ever? Who can still make their kids say 'eww stop kissing!'

I can only hope that Matt and I will be like that to our children. Because, isn't that one of the most important legacies of all?

I love these wedding photos of our relatives, and I thought it was important to have their photos at our wedding day, to honour them. They, like us, were excited, in love, naive and nervous at the start of their marriages. And they made it.

I like to remind myself of those who have gone before, and who have stayed true to love. They have walked that road, and now some of them are gone, but their legacy remains.

And to them all, we say thank you.

Reprioritising

So, lately I took a three week break from the internet. (You can read why here)

At first it was really hard. I was so used to reading my daily blogs and checking facebook all the time. My hand would itch to click on the links it was so used to. As the days went on, I found it easier and easier, until eventually my only concern was that I would miss invites on facebook (I did), or miss important private messages (I didn't).

I didn't feel urgency to get back onto the net at the end of the three weeks. When I logged back onto facebook and the blogs this week I felt..... bored.

Yep bored. And it was the last thing I was expecting to feel.
The blogs I read were still great, but not worthy of my time at that moment. And they didn't quite hold the allure they once did. As for facebook..... it seemed like my newsfeed was full of stuff I didn't need to know. Superflous comments. Boring junk. (This is not a criticism- I am quite capable of producing some boring junk myself.)

I am still feeling like this a few days later. I think three weeks off has been enough time for the shine to dull, for the attachment to fade. They say it takes 30 days to break a bad habit, or form a new one, and I think thats what has happened here.

Having three weeks to reprioritise my attention, my devotion, my thoughts and my time has been immensely helpful. My mind has learnt a new habit, has shifted its focus onto things more worthy.

Again, I'm not saying the internet or Facebook is bad. Its just how you use it. I was using it all wrong. And I'm hoping this time I can get it right

Bind my wandering heart to Thee

Distraction is my biggest weakness right now.

I could blame society. After all we are the short attention span generation, the multi-taskers, the always 'busy', the ones who need the new, the fresh, the exciting, the ones who move on quickly.

That is probably part of it. Another part is that I don't even really attempt to really discipline my mind or my time. I get on the internet and its Facebook, blogs, recipes, pinterest, news websites, and BOOM, two hours have gone. Two hours when I really could have studied, cleaned the house, gone for a run, done some invoices, or even read a good book.

By wasting my time, by having an unfocused mind, I am wasting so many opportunities. I'm spending too much time on things less than worth of my time. These things are ok in moderation, and with purpose, but that is not where I am at right now.

Up and coming in our church is a fast for 3 weeks. Traditionally you would fast food of some type, and the purpose is to give something up, and spend time with God in the moments you would have been eating. To sharpen our minds, and let them rule over our bodies, instead of the other way around.

This fast I won't be giving up food, because giving up food won't be a sacrifice for me. Instead I aim to give up wasteful distractions for a few weeks, namely

-Facebook
-The blogs I love (Girls gone child, a cup of Jo, Picnic by the motorway and so on.)
-Wasteful internet sites like failblog
-All recipe sites except when I actually need a recipe
-And all other time wasting sites. (so, not email, or work/study related stuff.)
-Books or naps when I should be studying or doing other things
-I will continue with this blog, if I know my writing has a purpose. If I am doing it as a distraction, then thats a no go, so there may be less posts here.

This fast is only for 3 weeks, and I am excited and a bit scared. I know not having my time wasted will be so beneficial. Even if my church weren't doing a fast, I know I need some time out, to re-prioritise my time and where my mind is wandering. I feel like I need a mind cleanse or detox, to go cold turkey so I can decide what is important, to retrain my mind to be effective and useful, and to spend more time with God.

I don't know how the 3 weeks will go. I hope at the end I have a better perspective on how I use my time, and I will be able to wean myself back on in moderation. After all these distractions aren't bad in themselves, its just the way I am using them.

We are lucky to have free will, and choice in how to live our lives. It's time for change in mine. This process might take much longer than three weeks, but I'm ok with that. Breaking a habit and forming new ones takes time. In the meantime, my daily prayer will be;

Another Murdered Baby

I turned on the news the other night to hear about another murdered baby, right here in gods-own, New Zealand.

Again I feel distraught and oh so ashamed at our countries track record of kids murdered by the ones that should have been protecting them.

I don't know what to say, and I don't have any pithy advice. Partly because I assume anyone reading this is the type not to be involved in this. And because it is so out of my sphere of living that I just can't comprehend it.

Child abuse is obviously a huge and complex issue, with links to poverty, upbringing, and lack of support. But a part of it is just that the people perpetrating this are evil.

All I can say, is that this is one area where I think more government/social intervention is needed. I would be willing to give up my privacy with future children, if some sort of regular non-optional check up was carried out. I don't mind being looked at with suspicion if for example my child breaks an arm and ends up in the emergency room. I wouldn't like it, but I would deal with it. I don't mind smacking being illegal if it means that more abusers will be picked up earlier.

If you have any ideas about combating child abuse, have a look at the Green Paper currently open for discussion.

If I had a magic pill to stop child abuse and never hear another horrific story like this again I would. It breaks my heart every time.

Don't believe the lies

Don't believe the lies

You know what I mean. The magazines and photos contained within that make you die a little inside because you will never be that beautiful/stunning/skinny or have perfect skin/teeth/hair

See the lies in action;

We all know about unattainable beauty that is presented to us everyday. Looks so unattainable they are only achievable by a computer.

I used to look at these pictures, and read articles on how to get 'perfect skin' or 'party makeup.' But I slowly realised these articles weren't imparting much (if any) useful knowledge (nothing I couldn't learn from a friend), and in essence were making me feel very inadequate and basically ugly. I would never be as beautiful as these girls, and there was not much I could do about it. It felt to me as if they were flaunting their beauty in my face. 

Never ending images of beautiful women, and unachievable ideas are the bane of our generation. We can't escape the images. But we can change the way we look at them, and reduce the amount we see.

I now try to avoid images that are going to make me criticise myself - after all what is the point of wasting energy on berating myself for not meeting some arbitrary standard of beauty? So I avoid beauty/fashion magazines - or if I read them, I skip all the model sections and all the ads. I don't watch music videos, and try to avoid websites where this kind of beauty is portrayed.

I feel so much better in myself for this - constant comparing can wear you down. Having that weight lifted is such a nice feelings. And it stops you always thinking ugly thoughts about your looks.

But hey - if you really really wanna look perfect, well I have the product for you....

"This commercial isn't real, neither are society's standards of beauty."

The fear of the fragility of life

It feels like the past year has been filled with tragedy for the world, our nation and for people around me. In NZ alone we have had flooding, car crashes at a rate of knots, murders, earthquakes, balloon disasters and mining disasters.

I am so blessed in that no one close to me has died recently. But I have had many friends who have been affected by the above disasters, or have lost loved ones or friends in other ways.

All this tragedy, and the seemingly meaningless loss of life (especially because so many had their whole lives in front of them), has made me so aware of the fragility of life. One moment could change everything.

For me, this slow dawning of the fragility of life has led to an appreciation of life, but even more so, a gnawing dark fear, of losing loved ones. The kind of fear that wakes me in the middle of the night in terror, the kind of fear that  lets my mind wander in horrible worst case imaginings, the kind of fear that sits deep in the pit of my stomach, making residence where is doesn't belong.

Until recently I wished/hoped/prayed that I would die instead of a loved one. This hope was not out of selflessness (although I am not at all afraid of dying - I know where I will be going), but a deep selfishness, of not being able to imagine I could survive a loss, and so wishing that pain on others instead.

Do you see how ugly and twisted this fear is? I know I am not the only one who feels this way, I see many others uselessly worry about possible scenarios.

This all came to a head recently, when I realised that this fear was starting to take over, this needless worry was having more than its fair share of head space. With the help of a (straight talking) friend, I realised this fear is useless (or, more than useless- harmful), and will make me cling tighter (too tight) to those around me. 

It took a bright light being shone in the darkness for me to see that even if I am full of fear and worry, it is not going to prevent anything from happening. If something happens it happens, no matter if I worry or not. Therefore what is the point of worrying and living in fear? These emotions are harmful, and negatively alter my perception of today. And they can't stop life from happening, so they are such a waste of space and energy.

However, even realising this logically, it still took a while for my heart to realise it, and for me to be able to speak to the fearful emotions and tell them -no more, be gone!

Even then, after straight talking, after realisations, after some prayer, I still have my moments where I am consumed with terror. But now I am so much more aware of what it is, and that it doesn't belong. Now I can say to myself - 'don't be silly, there is no use being fearful. I'm not wasting energy on this, I am going to enjoy the life that I have been given.' These type of thoughts usually work, and fear is gone for that moment, no longer heavily dragging down my spirit.

Along side this, I just have to trust that whatever happens in life, I will be ok, I will survive. And I have to be more aware of my wandering 'worst case scenario mind.' If Matt is late from work, it probably isn't because he has been attacked by a rouge band of goblins on the way home. (Joke - I don't actually imagine that. I just didn't want to fill your mind with my needless worries.) 

I also have to be aware when my mind is full of negativity and talk it out of that state. I don't want to be filled with darkness, I want to be joyful and able to enjoy life.

I also don't want someone elses tragedy to be all about my fear. Because its not all about me at all. And the less time I spend worrying about me, the more time I can be a better friend/support, the more time I can pray/cook meals/write encouraging words/sit with them and so on. Fear makes you look inwards, and that is not something I want to be doing.

Letting go of fear also means I can see and appreciate the fragility of life through tragedy. I can start to value my days and each moment more than I do currently. Fear makes you hold onto those moments, cling and tear at life, letting go will hopefully mean appreciating, and understanding the value of each day.

This is only the beginning. But I am feeling so hopeful that this is the end of fear. That I know how to conquer it. That I know the one who is so much bigger than our weaknesses.

And why am I sharing this? Because I know I am not the only one who lives with these thoughts. If you are too, talk to someone about it. Recognise it. I would recommend reading 'Battlefield of the Mind' by Joyce Meyer. It highlights how much our thoughts influence our lives, and what we can do about it. If you are so inclined, pray. And slowly you will realise, like me, that fear and worry are wasted and harmful emotions.

"Fear doesn't live here no more."

A cry for the brokenhearted

You are the voice that calls the universe to be
You are the whisper in my heart that speaks to me,
Until I see you face to face, Grace amazing takes me home
I will trust in you.

Because you are with me, I will not fear.

The one thing I ask for, the thing I seek most, is to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, delighting in the Lord's perfections and meditating in his temple.
For he will conceal me there when troubles come, he will hide me in his sanctuary, he will place me out of reach on a high rock. Then I will hold my head high above troubles that surround me.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.

(Til I see you, I will exalt you, Psalm 27: 4-6, Psalm 34:18)

Living for the Weekend

I have noticed a popular theme in Kiwi culture- that of 'living' for the weekend. People can't wait to leave work for two days of pure bliss - freedom! I can understand that. I love the weekend too, especially the Saturday sleep in's, and time with Matt and family and friends.

However over the years I have been perturbed at the ongoing persistence of this idea of living for the weekend. The weekend is only two days out of seven. If you are living five of those days longing for the latter two, then are you really living life? Or are you always longing to be somewhere, something different? If you can't be satisfied during the week, during your job or your studies, then what is the point? Seriously. You will be working for most of your adult life. If you can't enjoy the week, if you are always yearning for the weekend, then you will be living most of your life in misery.

I see the working week as my time to do what I am skilled in and passionate about. I aim to keep improving and giving my best to what I do. I aim to build relationships and take enjoyment from the small things in my day -small chats, funny comments, lunch in the sun, a snatched morning coffee, a job well done, a job not so well done but learned from and so on.

I aim to be positive about and enjoy my days. I think Mondays are just as valuable as Saturdays, if not more. Mondays are days I can have an impact, where I can be effective and do what I am made to do, wheras Saturdays are more about me - not as important.

This might be easy for me to say as I have a job I really enjoy. But this philosophy is one I apply to my whole life. For example, when I was single, I tried to really enjoy and soak in my days, to live and love the moments with my flatmates, with my friends, and the things that I knew would end when I got married. And now, I can appreciate those days of my life as days lived to the full, and days where I was happy to be in the moment and not (too) focused on what was to come.

In this moment, now, we are where we are and it is our choice to enjoy it or wish for time to fly past to something else. It's our life, and we will only get this time once. Why not view things well, make change if needed and be thankful and blessed for where we are. There is no use wasting our energy yearning for things to come.... they will come. But now is now, and its the only now we have.

Stop and Smell the roses