Tag Archives: lifestyle design

Chasing bliss – Meet Rebel on a Rainbow.

Everyone has a story to tell. Every single one of us is full of incredible stories and beautiful moments. Every one of us is inspiring and every one of us yearns to be inspired. When I find something that truly inspires me, that reminds me who I am and why I do the things that I do, I can’t help share it. And this is where these beautiful people come in. My friends, meet Jess and Jonny.

Jess and Jonny from Rebel on a Rainbow are living my dream life. Seriously, what I would give to buy a van and just drive, I’ve considered it a thousand times, and I still find myself throwing the idea around in my head on an almost daily basis. After working for years and years and committing to the daily grind and conforming to our societies norms, Jess and Jonny gave it all up for a dream. They sold their possessions and hit the wide open road. They are living their life, chasing their bliss, on their very own pursuit of happiness. Arms and eyes and hearts wide open to the world around them. Their passion for our country and it’s beautiful red land is inspiring.I’ve been reading their blog for a while, Jonny is a big fan of my husbands surfing and follows him on Instagram. Which is how I first discovered Rebel on a Rainbow. I was at first intrigued by the name and by a few of their comments. So I went on an internet expedition to discover more about these people, living a life different than one I had every lived with the same purpose that I have always held close to my heart. Gentle, kind and completely out of the box.

It didn’t take me long to decide that this couple were people who I’d like to meet and I put them quickly on my blog reader and followed them on Instagram (their photos of Australia are beautiful and unusual and full of love and light and dreams). Their warmth and genuine joy for their lives and for each other is something that I can only aspire to. They are lucky to have what they have, and they value it.

Isn’t love a beautiful thing?

We met for lunch at the beautiful Samudra cafe in Dusnbourough on the impressive Western Australian surf coast. It’s a pretty spectacular part of the world and one of the best raw food cafe’s I’ve been to in a long time.

It’s always interesting meeting people that you only “know” through their online persona’s. But Jess and Jonny were exactly as I expected them to be. Humble, warm and totally down to earth. Good food, good conversation and a lot of laughs lead to a drive down to Yallingup and a lustful gaze at the knee high swell rolling across the break.

Is there anything more important than chasing your dreams? Jess and Jonny don’t think so, and I couldn’t agree with them more.

We don’t want to have any regrets, we want to make the most of every day. We are just a couple of kids trying to live our dreams…

All power to them. Life without regrets. Life filled with love and experience and joy. What is life it is not lived with passion? What is life if not to be enjoyed? What is life it not to be inked in colour and laughter and love? Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while know that this is something that I’m totally passionate about, I’ve written about it a lot. The pursuit of happiness.

Jess and Jonny are inspiring to talk to and I feel very blessed that Bo and I were able to spend such a joyful afternoon by the beach with them. We talked about the joys and challenges of van life and about the wanderlust that drives them. We come from different worlds and have very different stories, but our yearning for the path less traveled is the same. Our common desire to grab life with both hands and to live the absolute hell out of it, meant that we could have talked long after the sun set over the sapphire sea. I’m already dreaming of a little getaway to the east coast to see if I can catch some waves with these excellent people.

I urge you to head over to Jess and Jonny’s beautiful blog Rebel on a Rainbow, follow their amazing adventures and soak up some of the passion they have for our beautiful country, the love that they have for each other and the unbridled joy that they have for their life. It’s totally contagious.

Loving yourself and other social dilemmas.

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We are often told to be true to ourselves, but loving ourselves? Women’s magazines often have spreads on self worth and self esteem… I love myself, do you? Or five hot ways to date yourself… etc. But let’s talk reality here. How many of you can honestly say you LOVE yourself?

I have my moments. Some days I love myself, other times I like myself and then there are some days I downright despise myself. As a teenager I thought it was necessary to not like yourself. As far as I was concerned it was part of the teenage angst code that I had signed up to uphold. But as I get older I realise every day that loving yourself doesn’t make you egotistical or selfish or arrogant. It makes you happy. Arrogance often comes from an underbelly of self-hate and a fear of being vulnerable. Embrace vulnerability! There is nothing wrong with being imperfect and vulnerable and scared… and loving yourself anyway. Right? Right.

There is a social dilemma attached to loving yourself. How can you stand up for yourself and give your opinion and be clear about your way without being seen as difficult? I think it’s all in the way that you present yourself, and the key? Respect. Respect for yourself. Respect for the people around you. Respect in the way that you state your opinion and respecting other people enough to know when to shut your trap and listen (it’s more often than any of us think, mind you).

I had an email from a beautiful friend who asked me how I stay true to myself in all of this craziness. How I stay true to myself through the pain and the late nights and the grief. After I laughed a little, I may have even snorted, because it’s only recently that I’ve started to find myself again. I was lost for a very long time. I snorted and then I was humbled… and then I sat down and I wrote this list. Tips (for myself) to staying true to myself and loving myself, bumps, lumps, imperfections and all.

Trust your gut – the gut is a powerful thing. It’s something that we are often taught to ignore in our fast paced modern world, but it is also something that in my traveling days I relied on heavily. If something doesn’t feel right, chances are, it’s not right (for you). Playing nice and going with the flow are great sometimes, but if your gut is telling you no… say no.

Stop taking everything personally - just because someone doesn’t agree with you, doesn’t mean they don’t like you. Who cares if a few people don’t like you? You do have to be respectful of everyone, but you don’t have to be everyone’s best friend. Some people just don’t mesh well, there isn’t anything wrong with that.

Let go of the moral high ground – This one is important to me. Growing up I was told to be the ‘bigger person.’ Let it go. Let it be. Don’t cause problems. But sometimes to really be true to yourself to really love yourself… if you feel shit about something you’ve done (or haven’t done) or something someone else has done it’s OK to feel it (or even say it). My husband is turning me certifiable this week. Seriously, screw the moral high ground. RAAAAHHHHH! Forgiveness is great in theory and it’s really important I think in the long run for self development and self preservation and sanity. But it’s not always sustainable day to day (or hour to hour)… sometimes you just have to be mad. Because sometimes life throws a giant shit at you and you sometimes have to stand there, covered in it for a minute and just fume… Then go and take a hot shower.

Value opinions (this includes your own) – Your friends have opinions and they matter. But so do yours. Don’t let yourself get steam rolled, treated like a doormat, or persuaded to let go of something that is really important to you. So what if you think collecting shadow puppets is the most important thing in the world. Who cares if your friends think it’s weird. Let your freak flag fly! Your opinions matter, you matter.

You are beautiful. You are worth it. You are important. But you are no more beautiful or worth it or important than any one else. Each and every one of us can make a difference, but we can make an even bigger difference together.

Loving ourselves might be a life long battle of wills. Us against ourselves. But that’s OK. It’s a war worth fighting. How can we possibly have a shot at teaching our children self-respect and self-love if we aren’t working towards the same things for ourselves?

Love yourself, because there isn’t anything wrong with it… right?

Embracing the now.

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Most of us were raised in a culture where we are taught to dream big, chase success, work hard move forward. This is great in so many ways. I was taught to be ambitious and I was raised believing that I can do anything, that I can change the world, that I can be successful, that I can change my situation and that I can provide comforts and successes to my own child(ren) that were not possible for me. This are all great things.

But there is a downside to this culture. The culture of success.

I have realised at many times in my life that I find myself wondering “what’s next,” that sometimes I find myself going through the motions of my day as if I’m waiting for my real (dream) life to begin. As if when I do succeed at whatever it is I am working towards, as if then, in the future, my life will have the meaning that I crave. The success. The fruits of the labour. And I find myself wishing these days away so I can get to that end point faster.

When I was younger I worked as an actor, and I used to believe that when I scored that big break, then life would be wonderful. Then my real life would truly begin. Then it was travel. The next place I go… the next trip… the next adventure… the next party… the next boy… the next… the next… the next… you get the picture. I was so busy chasing that I didn’t often take the time to just stop. To exist in the tumultuous, amazing craziness that I was living. I was in such a HURRY. There were so many places to go, so many people to meet, so many parties calling my name. So I ran through my teens and through my early twenties… in hot pursuit of the next big thing. Living forever on the edge, ready to leap. But not really appreciating the ledge on which my scuffed converse where balancing. Not really appreciating the freedom or the youth or the glorious unknowing.

It reminds me of labour. When I was in labour with Bo I was so keen to get to the end. So keen for the pain and the work and the intensity to be finished so I could have my reward. So I could hold my child. My beautiful doula said to me multiple times, you have to exist right now, you have to feel what you are feeling, breathe in the pain. She was, as she so often is in her advice to me, so very right.

Because even the hard moments are beautiful. I look back on my 42 hour labour with fondness. Crazy right? But it’s because my doula reminded me to exist. She reminded me to feel. To be with my child in the very last moments that we were one. To listen to her. To talk to her. Because never again would Bo be inside my body. This was indeed the beginning of something beautiful, but it was also the end of something beautiful and that needed respect. And so when I remember my labour I remember feeling Bo’s body move as she shifted lower into my pelvis. I remember hearing her heartbeat on the monitor. I remember talking to her under my breath. Wishing her safety. Whispering love. I also remember the burning pain and the long hours and the backache and the bathtub and the tears and the vomiting… but those are all part of the experience. And although hard, they could never destroy the beauty of it all because they were so intrinsically part of it. Part of us.

The other day I found myself wishing away time again. Wishing that I could fast forward until I had my life sorted out. Fast forward to a time where Bo and I had our own home, our own space. Fast forward to a time where the stress of a broken relationship isn’t so debilitating. Fast forward to a time where my husband and I had decided once and for all what is going to become of all this. Fast forward to a time of no more argumentative text messages or painful Skype calls. Fast forward to a time where we are surrounded by love instead of excuses. Fast forward to a time where I had regular work and I had already achieved the mini-goals I have. Finishing my masters. Growing the blog. Signing more freelance contracts. I began wishing away time. And I heard my own voice in my head saying, I wish I could just… and listing about a thousand things as I stood in my food stained track pants scraping dried who-the-hell-knows-what off the side of the couch.

I was shaken from my thoughts. There was a little girl tugging on my shirt. Looking up at me with these amazing dark eyes like deep, endless pools where little secrets hide. Her little tongue poking through two newly formed top teeth. Her cheeky grin. Her grubby fingers. Her amazing-ness.

And then I remembered.

It’s NOW that matters. Yes it’s shit and it’s hard and it’s bloody frustrating some days. Some days I’m running on no sleep and incredible stress and hurtful words are being thrown my way. Some days I’m just so sick of being treated like a doormat. Some days I just want out. Some days I just want to get on a plane, alone and fly far, far away and I want to throw my hands in the air and give up and go to a bar and just let loose. But that’s OK. Because I don’t. I take a deep breath and I keep going. For me. For Bo. For our future. In the future things will be different. We will both be different. And as hard as it is right now. It is also beautiful. As far from perfect the now is, the future will be imperfect too. And there is beauty there.

It’s a terrible thing to wish away your days. Because we never know how many days we have. And each day brings little joys. Like bear hugs and baby kisses and new words and amazing discoveries through the eyes of a child. Each day however monotonous (and that is one thing no one ever tells you about motherhood… the monotony of it all… each of these days is just like the other) is also spectacular, even if just for a minute. And that minute, that minute has to count for something.

I watched her today, my Bo. Fearless. Launching into the little community babies music play I take her to with such joy. Leaping onto other children with giggles and smiles and kisses. Holding hands with total strangers and dancing. Laughing with people she had never met. So eager to play, never questioning her worth or her ability to love or be loved. And I thought. I used to be like that. That used to be me. Fearless. Joyful. Unwavering. It’s amazing what these little people show us. She sees what she wants and she goes for it… there is no looking back. No hesitation. Just strength. And when she falters? She just picks herself up, and goes again… climbing higher still.

So I’m going to try to embrace the now a little more, to remind myself every day that although it’s great to strive for future greatness… it’s even more important to enjoy the greatness that is right now. The beauty that your past created. Because the earth it keeps on turning… and if you spend too much time looking forward (or backward, I might add) you might miss what’s right in front of you. And for me, what is in front of me is new prospects and this child. This perfect in all her imperfection creature. This little person who just wants me. Who needs me. Who relies on me. I am painfully aware of my every move and how it has the ability to shape her.

I have to stop making excuses. I have to stop feeling shitty and start looking up. I have to rebuild my own self esteem after allowing myself, a strong, independent woman, to be treated like a doormat for so many years – after letting that destroy my self worth. I have to believe in myself again. Not future me, but right here, imperfect, messy, now-me, in all my flaws. I’m going to be better for her. For me. For us. Because damn it, this life ~~will be~~ is great. And my real life has already begun and even when it feels like shit… it’s not shit… it’s just what we make of it.

Screw surviving. Let’s flourish instead.

Good Food: An introduction to Kefir (and a yummy recipe too)

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I was first introduced to kefir by my beautiful friend De. She is my “food guru.” She is one of those amazing women who grabs life by the horns and shakes the hell out of it until it all just falls into place. She has always been beautiful but in the past 18 months she has literally transformed herself and her life through changing her (and her families) eating habits and lifestyle. She kicks some serious ass and I can’t prompt her enough (eh hem… I know you are reading this my friend) to WRITE A BLOG about it. I’d be her number one fan.

Anyway, kefir. I tried it for the first time about six months ago when I was on holiday in Perth from Indonesia. Whilst sitting in De’s kitchen with my baby Bo on my knee I drank kefir fresh from the jar as she separated the grain from the delicious cultured milk. I was surprised at its tart, smooth and fresh flavour. And I was intrigued by its health benefits. Packed full of good stuff, kefir is also easy to digest and is an excellent addition to any family diet. It took me six months to get my act together but for the past few weeks I have been growing my own kefir and Bo and I are both consuming it on a daily basis.

To grow kefir you need minimal supplies, minimal skill and minimal cash. Perfect.

All you need is a large glass jar, a strainer, smaller jars or tubs for fridge storage and most importantly your starter kefir grain.

For more information on growing your own kefir (including culturing different nut milks) I suggest this website as an excellent starting point. I am by no means an expert on the matter but I’m keen and I’m learning more all the time. My kefir grains are producing beautiful kefir that Bo and I have in our smoothies every morning and along with my homemade yoghurt I feel that we are both reaping health benefits whilst being very kind to our environment (and my hip pocket). I have recently discovered that I can also bake with it, and the results have been delicious.

If you live in Western Australia I am happy to provide you with some of my kefir grains as they grow and duplicate. As my beautiful friend did for me… I would love to keep the kefir chain going… so if so, just get in touch and I’ll get some to you when they are ready.

Pumpkin & Kefir Scones

A couple of cups of wholemeal flour
A couple of heaped tablespoons of baking powder
About a cup of mashed pumpkin
A couple of big tablespoons of butter (you can probably leave this out or substitute it with coconut oil or the like, but I like real butter… so I use it… even if it’s not the best for me)
1 egg
1/2 a cup of kefir (can also be milk or yoghurt if you don’t have access to kefir – but it really makes them something special)

Whisk the butter so it’s nice and creamy, add pumpkin, (pre-whisked) egg and kefir and combine. Then sift in flour and baking powder, with wholemeal flour you often get the husks in the sifter… I dump these into the mix too. Then stir it all up adding extra flour if it’s way too sticky.

The kefir and pumpkin do make the mixture quite wet. Don’t worry about it. Just put lots of flour on your working surface and lots of extra flour on your hands and give it a good knead. Then roll, chop and pop on the pan in little round (mine are never round) lumps.

Feeling seedy? I love adding extra seeds to things for a flavour and nutrition boost… favourites are chia, sunflower and pepitas at the moment. Yum! I mix them through and sprinkle some extra ones on top for good measure.

Stick the tray in the pre-heated oven at around 180 – 200′C for 15 – 20 minutes or until cooked.

Eat them warm… feed them to your baby… feed them to your friends. Eat them for lunch with a big leafy green salad or serve them along with a delicious roast veggie salad for dinner.

Whichever way you eat them. They are delish.

Enjoy x

Breaking the silence: On motherhood.

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When I think about the way that our society expects us to parent, I am surprised. Surprised that there aren’t more women standing up and saying… This is hard. Seriously. It wasn’t all that long ago that we, the women, were a part of a collective, where we gathered together, raised our children together and shared in the responsibilities, the joys and the heartaches. Where motherhood was respected but parenting was not the sole responsibility of the parent, but the community banded together to help raise and grow and shape their little people. Together. It probably doesn’t surprise many of you that I believe that this is the ideal way to parent.

It comes back to the old saying it takes a village to raise a child.

But we live in virtual villages now. We live in housing estates and cities and suburbs where we don’t even know our neighbours. We live in societies where we are scared of each other. Where not being perfect, not being the *best*, is unacceptable. Where being unique or making different choices or going against the grain is not celebrated, where we are judged by men, by healthcare professionals, by teachers, by other mothers. Where we are told that we need to have the right *things* to be the right parent. Where we try so hard to show everyone that we are coping, that sometimes I think we lose ourselves in the every day shuffle of it all. I think there are a lot of women out there who are really struggling. Who aren’t actually coping with the responsibilities and the difficulties that come with the role of motherhood. Women who don’t have support networks. Or even women that do. I know some days I am that woman. I’m sure we all have days like that. But we don’t often talk about it, the true reality of the experience. Or when we do, it is downplayed not only by us (the mothers) but by the rest of society too. Like it’s a joke, good fodder for a meme. Why?

I’ve heard it called the conspiracy of silence. And I think it’s sad that a collective experience that is both as unique and as universal as motherhood is often misrepresented. Where many mothers I know (myself included) feel that they need to define themselves as something more… something more than *just* mother. Even though being a mother, once you are one, is everything. We still crave more. We still ARE more.

I think that we, as a society, put a lot of pressure on mothers to be the givers of life, to be educators, and to raise the future generations. But at the same time we, society, expect mothers to do so in isolation. Yes we have playgroups and mothers groups and support groups and baby groups and baby yoga and library sing a longs and… and… and… where we can book a thousand events for our children one after another all day long. Where mothers come together and talk about snacks and sleep schedules and nappy bags and teething and fevers and… and… and… but it isn’t very often that you hear a mother say, I’m not coping.

Society expects us as mothers to be able to raise children who are gentle and kind and compassionate and able to solve conflict without violence. We are expected to raise children who are cooperative but society allows violent programming. But when a child behaves inappropriately, we place the entirety of the blame on the parent.

We expect women to raise our children but we also expect them to work. We are expected to want “it all.” But having “it all” is defined by society, not by the mother herself. Because if you don’t work. Then you are just a mother. And if you are *just* a mother… are you allowed to have opinions on anything outside of the realm of baby food and burp cloths and stroller configurations?

I think a lot of these problems have arisen due to a silence. A silence about the truth of the experience of motherhood. Not the drivel that is shown on American sitcoms or reality television. Not even the sleepless nights or the stained clothes or the endless cooking and cleaning and washing and scrubbing… But the truth of the every day experience of the mother, the woman, the person. Maybe if we as a society recognised the truth in the role of the mother, there would be more acceptance, more assistance, more genuine interest in the woman behind the mother. The individual who is taking on one of the greatest most important roles she will ever play, without an ounce of training (or pay for that matter!).

Maybe then we would stop these ridiculous debates about whether a mother should breastfeed her child in public (yes, we are STILL debating this in 21st Century Australia and honestly, I’m ashamed) and we would focus more on the act of mothering from the perspective of the woman. Maybe then we would stop judging the mother in the supermarket who is saying “No” to the screaming child in front of the child-height chocolate stand… and we would make more appropriate cultural decisions on advertising and product placement. Maybe then we wouldn’t be selling juice with a baby teat attached to the top of it as a health drink for babies. Maybe then instead of being so quick to judge and we would be quick to offer help. Not advice. But help. Real help.

It’s hard to speak up, I think. To say, what I want or what I need is not in line with the societal expectation. Or even to just say, I’m not enjoying being a mother today. Or, this is the hardest job I’ve ever done… without first assuring everyone, I really love my child. Because of course you do, of course I do, we all do. I think it is rare to grow and birth a child without love and only another mother really understands that. How much you can love LOVE another person with all of your body and soul… but the role of mother, however it does change you, it does not define you, the woman.It does not make who you were before invisible. Even if society expects it to.

It’s something to think about. That’s for sure.