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Same, same but different .........

We are told that comparison is the thief of joy 

As I get older I have come to understand how liberating it is to walk in my own shoes and not make comparisons 

It has not always been the case and to be honest I have found healthy comparisons to be a good litmus test for decision making and much like consistency has been helpful.

As the kids were growing up it was important for me to know that we were all on the right track.

I hadn't been raised in a conventional household and though loved and protected had very little concept of 'normal' family life.

Once separated, my one focus was that we would not fit the stereotype of a single parent family. I was determined that we would look like everyone else.

Lets be honest - as much as it looks appealing to be alternative and rock that hemp wrap skirt, combo -bumper -stick- weilding, hairy armpit , freedom child lifestyle not all children respond well. I only now discover that my choice of bald pate was a source of embarrassment for my children. Everyone who knows my family knows that we are not short of an opinion but when you're young you're either accepting or just don't have the vocabulary to say it like it is.

Children trust what they understand and I was keen that they understood life like their friends and other 'normal' people.

I loved the fact that Ben's soccer team boasted such a group,of caring,supportive fathers who embraced him and welcomed him into their families. I believed that he needed good male role models and was grateful that our very diverse sporting circle enabled him that joy.

It takes a village to raise a child and my village was me and my Mum so we joined everything in sight so as we always had the advantage of community - something my own upbringing never encouraged.

Trends, fashions, you name it - we did it.I never succumbed to following too many trends or else the girls might never have played in male soccer teams or Peta might never have gotten away with that very risqué Ball gown. Leigh might never have played for countless State sides and Sian - well where do I start.....

Almost with military precision I orchestrated that our life replicated those of the families in our circle 

That comparison was never a bad thing.

We learned so much from those who had a rich and diverse background and different perspectives.

Don't get me wrong - we were never in the category of 'single white female',  stalking and taking notes on how to live like a family.

I never installed a cardboard cut out of a big swarthy male father replacement in the front room, though I did put work boots on the front step to give the illusion of male presence.😀

I watched milestones and noted when other families allowed new independence.

Though my own upbringing was not orthodox and definitely not adventurous I did grow up,to have a very accepting, liberal minded approach to challenges.

Blessed with no real idea of 'normal' I was able to be very open minded in my approach to parenthood.

I started to understand that, once liberated from the restrictions of my limited upbringing I became very adventurous without much sense of restraint and needed to allow my children the chance to investigate without restraint but with the knowledge that there would always be a soft place to fall.

I didn't want them to be out there on their own, making decisions and choices based simply in the fact - 'it is different'.

I compared the life I had known to the one I invisaged for them and made sure that they had every support I had been denied.

Without that comparison who knows........

I love the fact that they explore life with an unbridled joy but with a certain awareness that I wish I had when younger.

I have always admired those who walk their own journey without any regard for other opinions and philosophies but also realise that not all of us are that brave. We also never know what direction our children will take so like it or not some adherence to society and its mores is useful.

I never pressured my children to perform at school but was well aware of what standards they needed in ' the real world'.

I often remember in my teaching career , students who were home schooled suddenly deciding that University was an option but were unable to get up to speed for entry requirements.

I stop myself now from making comparisons as I realise at my stage when I am only responsible for myself that they will serve no purpose.

I am who I am......

I am not overly brave, beautiful or brilliant - I can't operate the same as others because I am different 

When you really stop and look and tell yourself that you set your own Personal Best, life becomes much simpler otherwise you can feel like you're on a treadmill and much like a treadmill - never get anwhere🏃‍♀️

#comparisons # tobeornototbe

 

 

Saturday Saturday Saturday.........⚽️⚽️⚽️

Glory's wonderful semi final victory reminded me of the Glory days when the Kellys made the trip to Perth oval every second weekend like we were on a sacred pilgrimage.

via twilighthilightyears.typepad.com

Saturday Saturday Saturday.........⚽️⚽️⚽️

Glory's wonderful semi final victory reminded me of the Glory days when the Kellys made the trip to Perth oval every second weekend like we were on a sacred pilgrimage.

We were always involved in sport and so Saturday proved a real test.

NSL season in the late 90s was held in the summer months as it is now in the A league competition.

After a day spent at athletics we packed up the esky with pressed chicken, avocado and lettuce rolls, shapes and cool drink. A day at athletics is not to be taken lightly - we would start the day at 5 30, setting up the ground and competing in a variety of track and field events until the day wound to a close at around 1.

Without too much fuss we'd race home, get changed into our purple, grab our esky and pillows and leap into the Glory decor of the Tarago.

We were always at the ground early - 'you never know- might be road works, bad weather, accidents, bad parking or some other hold up.......' was my mantra😀

We would set up camp at the front of the ground a few hours before even the gates opened.

Unbelievably we had company - an elderly Irish couple , an Italian gentleman called Tony and Matthew.

Much like any stalwart group of supporters they all had a story.

The couple were Janette who was a carer for her elderly friend, Jim who had lost his nose in a fight at the Swanbourne immigrant hostel not long after arriving from Ireland and known for his wonderful slant on life, played the drums all though the game. Tony had been a member since 1996 and had only missed one game when his daughter married. Matthew still to this day goes to games in purple fancy dress and never failed to impress with his wonderful Mum inspired creations.

We sat chatting and learning about each other for the hours until the gates opened. Still conversation was not that riveting for 4 children so with dollars in hand Ben was conscripted to walk the girls to the closest service station to buy ice cream, walking slowly to wile away the time😀

Life was never really boring - confronted with belligerent drunks and glazed, delusional drug users sometimes the hours were sometimes a little challenging.

We were once interviewed as the fourth Glory team after the player base and cheer squad as we were such ardent fans and the article appeared in a fixture book.

16 000 was common during these halcyon days and so once the gates opened we rushed for our valued seats on the fence.

Our wooden benches which required the aforementioned pillows.

Not only were they uncomfortable but they were also home to cockroaches which sometimes proved more of a distraction than the actual game.

Every second Saturday we tied a plastic bag for rubbish to the metal fence.

Every season we were able to always locate out favourite seats as the plastic bag ties marked the fence like a tribute to the Kellys.

The festival atmosphere before the game made these days special. Kids went on the park to kick the ball through a Petkovic goal and played on a bouncey castle. They tested their kicking skills and were allowed a range of scintillating other activities designed to burn off excess energy. For the Kellys it was an exciting opportunity to stretch their legs and get over the boredom of the earlier hours.

'Saturday Saturday Saturday ' the salutation by Steve Armstrong ,was the song of the evening until the team hit the ground and the theme song was chanted with great exuberance , complete with the Glory mascot, high fiving eager young hands around the ground . The atmosphere was electric and combined with the dancing girls and Sambanistas - a colourful percussion ensemble the night was pure entertainment.

Half time was often the chance for children based competitions and general fun.

A stand out memory and part of Kelly folk lore was the infamous ice cream competition.

All the members of the junior branch of the Glory Club were invited to grab an ice cream , run to the other end of the ground and the first finished won a year's worth of ice cream.

Sian grabbed her ice cream and returned to her seat to eat it - Peta took her time to eat it in a lady like manner, Ben was gratefully too old,  but truly competitive Leigh made it to the end in breathtaking time and scoffed the lot in record time.

The prize was given to a young man who clearly was NOT a junior member of anything ....

Leigh who was probably about 8, grabbed the MC's microphone and pleaded her case arguing she had won - confronted with a pint sized dynamo he relented and she was awarded a month's supply of ice cream.

Years went on. Seasons came and went. Everyone grew older and at times our group increased with friends joining us. We saw the Glory/ Woolongong final when we went down after being 3 -0 up at half time , witnessed Despotoveski swear at a ball boy, saw players come and go and will always remember the Glory days fondly.

I persisted with membership for a few years when the National league began but never really enjoyed the day.

The ground was bigger and cleaner but subjected to so many rules. Designated seating was uncomfortable and sterile. I found it hard to find other like minded soccer tragics for a chat.

There just wasn't the same excitement , numbers were dropping and it just wasn't the same.

Gratefully the Glory shed keeps the hype alive and when I hear that 'yooooo fat b------'!

I think fondly about the days and sometime regret that they ended but all good things come to an end and I'm grateful for the memories and for the dinner time conversation fodder Glory days provide 😀⚽️

Who knows - once I'm over the notion of back to back games on Fox I might return 😀

#glorydays #goodolddays

6000 sports🏀⚽️🏉🏓🎾🥋🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️

I couldn't write my memoirs without a considerable portion devoted to sport.

Sport represents so much - fitness , community, conflict resolution, friendships, commitment, team work and the list goes on. I guess I put so much emphasis on sport some would say that maybe as a family we over did it😀😳

Personally I found commitment to sport took me away from everyday stress and was always full of joy and involvement despite occasional bouts of nasty politics.

My family joke about the 6 000 sports played during their childhood😀

How did it start?!

I don't want to challenge Roots in the saga arena so I'll try and paraphrase.

The kids were energetic and activity at the park all too soon became a little passé.

Ben loved BMX and we'd regularly frequent a nearby BMX track but as a sport I believed it was too driven by trophies so we looked elsewhere. We found Coolbellup Soccer club and although Ben was too young to play competitively he trained and eventually he played as did his sisters until we all needed to head off to a bigger club and found Cockburn where I trained Sian's team and the girls played in boys teams and Ben eventually graduated to the men's game. Sundays in winter were preoccupied with four different games and over time Ben , Peta and Leigh were selected for state teams and that meant club and state training during the week. Leigh was eventually identified as talented and toured 4 times in one year , at one point the youngest in the state women's team.

During winter the girls played netball. Every Saturday morning we would head off to Gibson Park in Fremantle , play three games and good to go with athletic leotards under netball uniforms we would race to cross country competition - some weeks race walking , alternative weeks - running. Some comps were as far as Mundaring or Joondalup so it made for a long day, then backed up with a Sunday of soccer.

Kept us off the streets😀

Over the years we belonged to East Fremantle , Armadale , Fremantle Spirit, Murdoch, Queens Park, Beeliar, Northern Redbacks, Cockburn, Coolbellup, Joondalup soccer clubs and I am eternally grateful for parent support who helped me with transport and became like second family.

Other sporting ventures:-

Basketball at Cockburn at 6 in the morning when even Ben was so small the coachs had to lift them to reach the ring.

Gymnastics at PCYC

Rythmic gymnastics when Sian was expelled for getting possessive with a ribbon😀

Tae Kwon do for Sian who got a brown belt before she retired 😀

We used to go roller skating every Saturday morning at Kwinana when Leigh was about 18 months old. 

Tennis at school and at Fremantle tennis club.

My biggest over reaction to the importance of sport was my attention to swimming.

Not  being able to swim myself I was determined that each child should be more than competent.

They all started at Fremantle pools before they turned 1 and after that the lessons never stopped.

Every summer at Point Walter jumping on a bed of jelly fish or Coogee Beach fighting off stingers.

Every spring - lessons at Milne pool in Spearwood.

Then private lessons with a sun baked lady called Jean who rewarded good performance with unbelievably tasty toffee.

They powered through the lessons so rapidly that time stood still for a while until they were old enough to go for their bronze medallion.

I still remember the day that Ben and Peta had to complete the rescue portion of the test with Ben easily lifting Peta onto a paddle board with Peta on the other hand struggling to negotiate Ben out of danger onto the board - her arguement 'you could have helped me' and his response - 'what if I was really drowning!?'

The other most gruelling commitment would have to have to have been - athletics.

Every Saturday over Summer - sometimes all weekend .

Being Centre chairperson I felt responsible for setting up every Saturday so with stunning regularity we got up at 5 30 and headed to Santich Park with the first task of the day being -'putting out the flags'.

I had to use some bargaining power so used a treat at the canteen as a lure - needless to say I had a fairly significant tab every Saturday afternoon.

A vast range of track and field events this sport is the one I rate most for replicating life skills.

Other participants became life long friends and a community was formed, based on a common goal.

Disappointments  overcome, hard work rewarded- athletics really was a microcosm of a wider society and though time consuming - very satisfying.

Peta played beach volleyball for a school team.

They all participated in Glory zone with sessions taking place at Lords in East Perth at 6 in the morning.

I feel I have forgotten some sporting involvement but I guess you get the idea.

It was a big part of life and fitness and fun still plays a big role in our lives.

I love the fact that my family have diverse skills and have confidence to try anything and experience new adventures without fear or trepidation. They have made life long friends and most importantly have memories that last a lifetime - these memories often form a lion's share of dinner time conversation- a favourite is the never ending tale of who won St Jeromes open girls Triathlon at the ski park - Leigh or Peta 😀😀

If you can play sport you can do anything - a great way to meet people and make new experiences and learn for life 😀

Today is the first day of the rest of your life 🙏

Gym junkie, gym geriatric.......

Ask my family and they will say that I spend many hours in the gym.

I think in part the gym has helped me bridge the gap after a career spent following a routine day that has a regular shape.

I had said that when I retired I would start doing weight bearing classes as I was aware that my ageing bones need to be strong.

I was also keen to gain lean muscle and improve core stability so the opportunity to have limitless hours in the gym was appealing. No longer having to go the gym, tired after a long day I could indulge myself doing whatever whenever I so desired.

Apart from loving the regular routine I loved the fitness of body and wellness of mind. School had often been stressful and presented an overload of worries that rolled from one day to the next.

I had long realised that my mind was cleared after an hour of cardio exercise  and I could reassess any issues with an unclouded, focussed mind and the end result was generally a good one - decisions were incisive and programs were efficiently organised.

That exhilarating  feeling of 'washing' my brain clear of worry was always a God send. Pre retirement I used to rise every school morning at 5 am and go for a run.

Never a long one but definitely a good start to the day. Much like meditation it gave me a chance to reflect and plan.

I only stopped when the paper delivery man tried to run me over 😩But by then I had discovered the gym 😀👊

The Gym has always been a great mental health strategy .

It is also a means of achieving goals and setting challenges.

In the last few years I have stretched myself , doing things I never would have once considered possible.

I do regular  fun runs including Run for a Reason and City to Surf and have completed the Rottnest 10 kms.

I have done cross fit competitions , ZUU workouts, boxing classes in New York, ran Central Park and will pretty much give anything a go.

It's not just the exercise that helps keep me fit it is the routine, the comraderie and the challenges that exercise presents.

Fitness for me is like a microcosm of life.

It represents doing my best. 

Not making comparisons.

Making friends.

Setting goals.

Challenges.

Overcoming setbacks.

Keeping on keeping on.......

and that old time favourite of just feeling good to be alive😀😀🎉🎉

I do also need to learn moderation as at times my routine has become a little excessive - Most days I do gym sessions in the morning and afternoon - classes including Attack, Combat , Pump, Cxworks, spin and for a rare change Boxer circuit.

I like to think I am fit enough to give anything a go. I am just starting to learn that I can ease off my hectic routine.

Probably need to thank my nutritional system for the endurance and health that enables me to keep going and only stop when I actually realise that a nice brisk walk with the dogs is just as good an option.

#fitnessfunfamily

OAP in the house ......👵👵

I am blessed with strong genes.

My grand parents lived well into their 80s/ 90s and my mother passed away in her 86th year.

She was active until she turned 80 when she broke her hip and really never recovered. She would walk from the bus stop a good few kilometres to our house and she took the kids on the school teddy bear picnics , often shaming the younger mothers as she walked to the Manning Park lookout without breaking a sweat.

That was pre Manning steps days but it was still a climb on a dirt path and a decent work out.

I often wonder at how much better life could have been if she had been blessed with the nutritional system I enjoy.

Her life dwindled away in Fremantle Hospital and eventually she succumbed to the cocktail of drugs that modern Medicine had prescribed her for a variety of geriatric ailments including osteo arthritis and blood pressure.

I have vowed to never need that debilitating cocktail.

Now that I am retired I see the world from a very different view.

I visit Phoenix shopping centre every day and confronted with a steady view of Zimmer frames and fragility I became very aware of the predominant demographic and was not pleased.

I was struggling a little with the transition to retirement , finding purpose and direction was difficult. I felt like I had leap frogged a whole stage of my life and found this stage lacking shape and identity.

I have now found my direction and feel empowered to make these twilight years ones of purpose and adventure and am so grateful for that enlightenment.

During the early days however I felt very confused.

I couldn't deal with seeing people not much older than me teetering around looking for the first seat at hand and then wolfing down chips and gravy , struggling to then raise  a hefty frame from that seat.

I was bothered to see what appeared a holding pen for many who had given up on life and for whom a trip to the shops was the ultimate adventure.

I couldn't wrap my head around the walking club who did bog laps around the inside of the centre as it appeared safer than the wiles of the streets.

This same group complained about centre music as it was too loud.

OMG - I thought - is this it........😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

The one great legacy left me by my mother is an open mindedness that enables me to accept differences or at least recognise them.

I have never been known for tolerance or a liberated mind set but I do pride myself with an ability to think and listen and be open to change and I thank God.

Life would be so limited if I couldn't now open my mind to new adventures and thoughts and teachings and I am so grateful and liberated.

I really want to see more older people feel invigorated instead of resigned to a sedentary life fuelled by medications.

I hope I am a role model.

The young ones are impressed by my gym efforts - the older ones seem to think I must just be some kind of cardio freak😩

I have met some wonderful older people at Phoenix - 2 terrific ladies in their nineties who plan on seeing the Northern lights and hope to get their 100th birthday telegram from the King......😀

Most however seem to feel a sense of entitlement because they have reached a certain age - hence they feel no need to use wing mirrors or respect queues😩

I repect their wisdom and the experience of the years of life they have travelled but wouldn't it be better used to enhance their twilight years rather than just wallow in the memories.

#olderwiserfitter

😩😩😅😅😓😓😥😥c

Having spent the last few weeks literally sweating till I feel like a walking puddle my thoughts have turned to the debilitating effects of dehydration.

I have always sweated heavily and can walk out of a gym dripping like a tap.

A combination of humidity and a renovated gym that is devoid of air conditioning has taken that sweatometer up considerably.

Apparently sweating means your internal thermostat is working well and anyway it is just your fat crying😀😅😓😥

So preoccupied am I with this condition that I my mind jumped to that expression that everyone who has ever undertaken self development will appreciate - never sweat the small stuff!!

I have never been one to instinctively let things go - I can feel aggrieved over any little slight or misdemeanour and can harbour a grudge like a champion athlete😀

As part of my self development journey I have worked long and hard on 'not sweating the small stuff''.

At present there is a verge pickup and there are piles of rubbish littering a lot of verges in the neighbourhood. My verge is particularly blessed with junk as I have ridden myself of a lot of backyard stuff that once useful is now just rubbish and well past it's 'used by' date.

My stuff has been out for longer than recommended but I had no choice so inevitably the pile got bigger and smaller everyday as unbelievably that notion of 'one man's rubbish is another man's treasure ' had 'bargain hunters' taking bits of twisted metal, old mattresses and mangled benches.

Pleased that the harmony of life was in good working order with my junk being recycled and finding good homes I was then confronted with the reality of other neighbours actually using my verge  to dispose of their own junk.

Not happy to drop and run it appeared that they were rummaging around my pile and leaving unwanted crap all over the place. I've come out this morning after a particularly windy night to see an old kennel bereft of a roof and the ripped mattress billowing white clouds of filling all over my freshly cleaned yard.

Old me would have raged , looking for signs of a name or address in order to return any offending rubbish back to the neighbour.

New me just got a bag , picked up the filling and put it into a bin ,returning to the pile to tidy it up.

No story- no issue.

The rest of my morning was then spent exercising, sweating, but at last not fixated on a minor infraction that would have me in a lather of frustration and wasting my energy on something so minor as to not even bear mentioning.

To further heighten my understanding that this is indeed 'small stuff' I got into the car only to hear the news that a young man had lost his life in a boating accident over the weekend.

I did indulge myself for a short time thinking that I would never be so rude to my neighbours and 'do unto others what you would do unto them...... '- a mantra learned from many years awash in Catholicism.

The next item on the news was the fact that more Catholic priests are being investigated for moral turpitude .

So maybe lesson learned - 'I can be right or I can be happy'.

The universe has a funny way of letting you know which is better😀

#bringoutyourdead #gymsweatrules

Grenades away.......💣💣

I have an anger management problem

It is manageable - I liken it to having a stockpile of plutonium in your backyard that after 100s of years hidden, explodes when you start excavating😩😩

I can even tell you the date of the last 'explosion' - 16 th January 2008, so I guess it is more an occasional kink than a problem but a lot like the plutonium analogy , the aftermath can be devastating and long lasting.

Teamed with a short fuse I also have a pathological loathing of bullying.

I remember as a child taking on three hulking teenagers who were making fun of a dog and going to the rescue of a little chubby boy being thrust into a puddle by again - a group of gangly teenage boys.

Like most of us it is the incredible sense of injustice that we hate. The sense of inequality. The idea that because we are bigger, louder or in a position of power we can intimidate others.

I have never really succumbed to bullies myself partly maybe because of a combination of a short fuse and big mouth but I also believe we can only be bullied if we allow ourselves to be bullied.

A lot of people know my blessed abundant life endowed by my wonderful children and how I am relieved of financial stress and a life rich with community, fitness and healthy ageing.

It has not always been that easy.

I have always felt blessed but financial stress has often had me on the back foot.

I remember an incident when I visited Westpac Bank with Peta in tow in order to tidy up my direct debits which were plentiful as paying in regular small instalments was a more efficient method of keeping up payments.

Sitting opposite a young woman who looked not long out of University, keen to make her mark , she turned the screen of my account, flashing my many and varied transactions and looking at Peta she cautioned:-

'Never let yourself get into this kind of mess......'😀

Devastated ashamed embarrassed and confronted with the reality of my financial incompetence I spluttered that I wouldn't pursue the interview to which I was told - 

'God helps those that help themselves......'

Mortified we slunk out of the bank and I did discover later that the young woman had been sanctioned for unprofessional behaviour.

That did not stop my complete feeling of failure particularly in front of my daughter who relied on me to have things in control.

That sense of victimsation - that sense of -' you are at our mercy' dogged me for many years as I struggled to to rob Peter to pay Paul and was never too far away from debt collection.

I was someone who prided myself on making a stand and counselled my students to be empowered and not allow bullies to take control.

I needed support from financial institutions and really had to bow to every whim and ridiculous interest rate increase.

Apart from  the obvious freedoms that network marketing has allowed me it has also allowed me the freedom to not be desperate and to play the big players at their own game.

There is little more edifying for an angry person like me than to snub my nose at those who think I am at their mercy.

The freedom is second to none and has helped in large degrees for me to quash any future explosions as I am relieved of stress , anxiety and limited options.

Of all my freedoms this one is one of my favourites.

it has given me a peace of mind that translates so well to other parts of my life.

There is always a solution - there is always another day and if we don't compromise our values and beliefs the Universe will look after us 😀

#bulliesbuggeroff

Feng shui my life 😀t the beauty

Everyone knows the liberating feeling of spring cleaning.

I have just enjoyed the exhilaration of subdivision

My yard is cleared 

a third will now be used for a new home

my fire hazard cotton palms have gone

my dogs have a clean, smaller back yard

my cracked pool can now enjoy the rest it deserves after many years of children bombing it

I no longer go to sleep to the sound of rats tap dancing on my ceiling😩

Yes I certainly feel free.

I am finding that I have fewer concerns every time I look at my 'new' yard. I can once again sit and read outside and have a small manageable space that I can easily leave when I travel.

My ageing dogs no longer have to manoeuvre hazards as they play and the cats don't get lost in the long grass 😀

The funny thing is that when the kids were young I worked feverishly to keep the yard functioning, featuring trampolines, swing sets , sand pits and always pets.

Over time things change - life catches up , swing sets move on and before you know it the yard resembles the secret garden but without the hint of romantic mystery.

Now I am energised to work on keeping it better - I have renewed enthusiasm for a yard that is simple but functioning and doesn't scream for the neighbours to force my eviction for bringing down house prices.

At one point I even had a vine that covered my roof - lovely in winter with a bright orange bloom but increasingly unmanageable.

It makes you wonder about the beauty of simplicity. It is great to clear and as we know - clear clutter from our life and we clear clutter from our minds.

Wouldn't it be good to not accumulate to the point where we need to have verge pickups and regular runs to a Good Samaritans.

What if we could just have what we need and live a life that allows freedom of movement and thought.

Now I am devoid of fire hazards and money chugging pool maintenance a level of stress has been lifted and has me looking for new opportunities

 Now the challenge is to clear clutter from the mind that stops my progress

Nipping in the bud at the point of contact negative thoughts that grow and fester until I am sweating the small stuff and avoiding the bigger picture

One small step,at a time

#fengshuiforthemindandthesoul

Swimmer swimmer .......chicken dinner

Anyone who follows my fb knows I don't swim 

You would have seen that brilliant pic of Ben paddling me out on a Sup board at Coogee with me clinging on for grim death in shallow water but grateful to be conquering a fear

What few realise is that as a young person I conquered many demons 

I learned to bare foot water ski

I went out fishing regularly in a boat on the Dampier Archipelago

I took high school kids canoeing in the ocean

I kayaked in the waters of South Stradbroke Island

No body of water restricted me for which I am most grateful

Fear is learned

I was such a worry wart as a young mother as I had read too much and was paranoid about everything from sunburn to global pandemics which is partly why I am so excited about my grandchild - I can breathe a sigh of relief and know the world isn't out to wreak havoc on the new life.

A lot of people tell me that they avoid the news but as part of the generation which feels the need to be informed I always read the paper and watch the news. Thing is there is soooooo many news outlets available that the world can become a very scary place.

The news used to be a way to discover the rest of the world now it seems to be a way of distrusting anything we don't know or undestand.

The cyber highway has really hyped up global paranoia 

Overtime we hear stories and heed warnings until we convince ourselves that it is best to avoid trying something new as it will result in disaster.

Instead of adventure being a joy it has become for some a risk too harzardous to attempt.

Michael Moore makes some good points about the dangers of fear and how we can quickly come from a place motivated by fear. We fear the unknown and we respond by putting up walls, taking up arms and basically living in a siege mentality.

I am upset by the fact that swimming now scares me.

I hope to overcome it and stop seeing rips, deadly currents, sharks and pestilence everytime I look at the ocean - how much better to see it for a beautiful symbol of freedom and life.

I want to go back to that person who gave it a go

I remember how exciting and exhilarating it was to try new things and love the memories they make.

#FalseEvidenceAppearingReal