How music soothes my savage beast

Tonight, my mother listened to my current Spotify Starred list. We danced to Pharrel Williams and bopped to Christina Aguilera. She even had to take in John Legend croning All of Me which I call his song. You know... "Love your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections."

The point was that we connected through music.

I told her about what music does for me. Instead of being sad, she was happy that I have music. She understands.

To me, music is a state.
To me, music is the tempo of happiness.
To me, music is salvation.

In my moments of deepest loneliness and sadness, I have tunes. They rescue me. They pick me up off the couch and twirl me around the room.

There is so much that I wouldn't survive if there weren't sounds to get me through. So I constantly look backward, forward and to now for the words and beats to represent me. I keep finding them. That preserves me.

Sometimes, I dread the day when music ceases to sing to me. When it stops explaining me to others.

The moments when I share a kiss with a perfect man, to a woman proclaiming that she asks that god accepts her man in heaven when the day comes.

May there always be music.

All the world's a stage

The five stages of grief usually experienced with a major loss are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

They don't have to happen in that order either and often stages will be repeated if they are not dealt with properly.

When I go through a big life change that I have no control over, these are the steps that I traverse.

People go on about acceptance as if it is something that you just decide on but that is not the case. Healthy human beings are supposed to feel feelings and not repress them.

I don't mean suppressed because suppression is consciously stopping yourself from feeling something. Repression is a form of denial where you don't even accept the thought or feeling exists.

Not dealing with emotions is what leaves people in a state of subconscious turmoil and dissatisfaction.

Acceptance is the end goal but it can sneak in earlier on as a form of closure at each stage.

My recent big loss has seen my journey to acceptance occur with severe peaks of each feeling that subside and leave me feeling the longed for closure.

I experienced denial first. I didn't even take the situation seriously because I didn't even entertain the idea it was happening. That lasted about 3 days.

Once I did entertain the idea, depression hit. I'm great at dealing with depression though since that is what my tool belt was built for. That didn't last too long - maybe a week.

Bargaining wasn't really a big part of me coping this time. I knew there was no point to it. I don't believe in asking someone else to fix something and I was aware of how little I would achieve so I tried a couple of times and then wrote that off. Total time was about four hours. Nothing takes less than half a working day.

Then came anger. Anger is something I've stopped suppressing now. For years, I let others be angry with me and I was always sorry. Then I would feel anger and not express it because I thought that made me a psycho bitch. I don't think that anymore. People are allowed to be angry. Emotions are fine as long as you aren't stuck on one for a long time. Even constant non-stop happiness without a peppering of other feelings is considered unhealthy. We are feeling creatures so we must feel.

In this case, I felt angry and not at myself. I expressed this in a burst of communication that lasted less than five minutes and then I felt better. Who knows how the receiver felt but to be honest, I don't much care.

And I don't much care because I have finally got my closure. I was treated horrendously. I took it as maturely as I could and showed compassion and understanding. But to achieve closure and move forward, I need to feel all those stages. Even anger. The one stage I still struggle to accept the good in but conceptually do comprehend.

Now, it is that time. Time to go on with life as I was contently doing two months ago before his all happened.

Now, I can and I am proud of myself for that.

Forgiveness

I grew up in a home that had some religious people and others who weren't. I am not religious but have no gripe with anyone who is. At least not based on their religion.

One concept that I noticed always popping up was forgiveness for others and for yourself. Not in a god granting forgiveness way but more in an accept what has happened and let go of the pain you carry way. Like putting down a weight you've been carrying while walking backwards on shale in 4" stiletto heels.

Last night, I wrote two blog posts: One wallowing in the self pity of heart break; and the other forgiving myself and forgiving someone who had hurt me.

Even now, I speak in the past tense because it feels like it is behind me. There will be moments of sadness but nothing so terrible that I cry.

I re-read them both and posted the one I thought represented me most sincerely. It was the latter.

It felt better to express that emotion than the sinking sadness alternate.

Today, I walked in to the workplace and felt free. For the first time in two months, I did not feel stressed, guilty, annoyed, sad or afraid. Especially, not afraid.

I've been feeling a strange mix of fear and sadness but today felt like it had a long time ago when I just felt happy and content.

I achieved so much at work, caught up with colleagues and friends, ticked off most of my to do list, connected with new people and felt a genuine sense of belonging that I'd misplaced.

Damana is back. All hail the Warrior Goddess reborn from the ashes.

Happiness is a Kong Foo Sing

With every challenge that life presents, I find that silver lining.

Sometimes, I think it might be delusion but then the mirage of contentment materialises and I'm lying on a beach with a cocktail in hand, while I wait for the cute waiter to bring me my tempura prawns with wasabi mayo. Bliss.

I recently experienced a loss of a good friend. He is not dead. Just no longer a friend. It felt quite awful and still hurts but I feel lucky that we spent time as good friends.

He taught me so much about life and myself. He taught me about gentleness and patience. He reminded me of how much I love words and people who wield them. He showed me that perfect souls exist but are cast imperfect by situation. He taught me to be a better engineer and to never stop fighting for what is right over what is easiest.

Most of all, he taught me how to forgive someone for not choosing you. True compassion and friendship means allowing someone to walk away from you because that is what is best for them, no matter how much you bleed as a result.

If one day someone feels towards me the way I do for him and allows me to do what I must do and be who I must be then I will make them my friend for life.

That is friendship. When I choose you over me.

I am a good person. I just never saw myself that way until now. Until he taught me.

Fahrenheit 451

Book 11 of 2014 and the 3rd book I have read in ten days, is Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.

The name comes from the temperature at which books will burn. It is about a future world where firefighters are no longer needed to put out fires since buildings are built to be fireproof. They are instead responsible for seeking out and burning books in a world similar to the middle ages where information is destroyed in order to prevent dissention.

I did spend a lot of time after this reading about the periods through history when books were burned. It is both disturbing and depressing to think of how much we regressed in those times. Where would humanity be now if those incidents never happened?

There were a lot of original ideas in this book but to be honest, it is not the kind of writing I enjoy. It feels like a lengthened short story and on further investigation, I found that it basically was.

Yes, this is my third book in three days. When I can't stop my brain from overthinking EVERYTHING, I read. It lets me escape my own thoughts and enter in to a world in which I don't exist. I share the concerns of the protagonist and forget my petty worries. I wonder if other people go to books to escape stress.

It might be time to move away from dystopian science fiction for a while. Not sure what awaits me now. Maybe I need a Kindle shuffle feature. Or I can just throw my to-read book pile in the air and read the next one I catch.

Should I read this? Honestly, don't bother. There is much better science fiction out there. This is a classic because it helped shape the genre. Read its spawn and leave this on that list of stuff to read when they've burned all the other good books.
What did I learn? The autoignition point of paper.

Selfishness is a side effect

I sat down with my boss today and received an insight that changed the entire way I see a situation and how I will approach it from now on.

Instead of thinking I was the cause of a situation, I can now accept that what I'm experiencing has nothing to do with me.

Without giving any detail, all I can say is that it was a "well duh!" moment.

Often I look to myself to understand why something adverse is happening to me. Other times, I'm just completely selfish and think the world revolves around me :)

Talking to people is a good way to understand a situation when I've come up with no reasons of my own. Must remember that.

Omniscience and then Null

I once knew everything you thought or I was able to ask for it.

You handed it up on a plate and I plated mine up on hand.

You bled for me. I did not drop a single platelet.

You wanted to understand and I wanted to explain it all to you.

Then it stopped and not because of anything I could control.

You took away that access like it had never been there.

You boarded up the windows and put that part of you back in a box on the shelf.

You didn't want to understand but I still wanted to explain.

And I see you five days of seven.

And I look down like I have done something wrong but I haven't.

And I wonder what you think and imagine only the worst possible things.

You don't care to understand and the apathy shows clearly.

I once knew everything you thought but now I don't.

You no longer know I exist and maybe I don't.

You wouldn't piss on me if I was on fire and I am.

I want to understand but I never will.

Acceptance Criteria

In software engineering we have a way of working that we refer to as "agile." It means that we behave in a way that makes it easier for us to adapt to change.

I often joke that I work as an agent of change so that I can make others change and not myself :)

There is an idea we work around that says that before we start any task, we must define upfront how we will know that a task is completed.

We call this the Acceptance Criteria.

Today, I applied this concept to a life situation and it helped me accept that what I thought was a case of friendship was really no more than a case of me being played.

As readers of this blog well know, I can be easily be convinced that 'gullible' has been removed from the Oxford English Dictionary. This often underwrites my tendency to believe people when they tell me something and that they are not lying to me. As a logician, I see the flaw in this statement immediately but apparently not in reality.

The acceptance criteria today involved checking what it means for someone to actually care for me. A friend for instance. A person who cares about how they make me feel and care that I am not made sad by their actions. A person who takes the time to understand where I am coming from. A person who gives me the benefit of the doubt. A person who would not act against me, no matter the situation.

Application of said criteria resulted in a fail.

I am a good friend. I am learning that I can not expect that from everyone.

Don't Overthink It Protocol

There is a Nietzsche quote that always pops in to my mind when I'm in the depths of introspection.

"And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."

This is the point where I instigate the Don't Overthink It Protocol (AKA: DEFCON 3), which consists of the following...

• Accept what you can not control;
• Distract yourself with activities;
• Read a LOT;
• Plan things to look forward to; and
• Forgive the person who put you here.

Saying this out loud always helps me. It isn't a silver bullet but it is an easing of the melancholy.

Why I Run

The last six months have seen me start jogging again. It does involve a lot of walking but I run more now than I ever did before. Even on those cold mornings and dark wet evenings, I run.

I run because it makes my heart beat fast. Then I need to breathe. All I can think about is breathing. The rest of the world disappears and so do the thoughts in my head.

I run to stop thinking.

Stop thinking of the words written, those long ago peripheral glances and the silence. The deafening, wounding unending silence that feeds my pensive sadness.

There is an odd point when running where I feel myself coming up to the final few metres and my body is begging to stop but my brain doesn't want to. My brain doesn't want to because then it will start thinking again and that never ends well. Too much introspection is never a good thing.

So I keep on running.

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Book ten of 2014 for me, is Phillip K. Dick's dystopian tale Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? This of course is the book that the movie Bladerunner is based on.

Yes, I'm on a roll at the moment and that is probably due to the fact that this is another book I have read in the past. That was over a decade ago so I did have to read it carefully. There were a lot of new things I discovered that made this a magical and slightly depressing journey.

The androids that are being retired are of the class Nexus 6. This all brings together Google's naming of its tablet device as the Nexus 7. Of course, it runs the Android operating system. Yes, I'm slow on the uptake :)

There is far too much awesome in this book to list it all but the analysis of depression, life purpose and selective empathy are informing and disarming. As an existentialist, I now see more in this book than I would have when I read it previously. The questions of what is considered life and what happens when human beings detach from what makes us human is brilliantly thought inspiring.

Phillip K. Dick and everything he ever wrote was an obsession of mine in the mid-noughties. To revisit books I remember loving and finding them wonderful again is both a relief and a motivation to re-explore my favourite authors. Since life is short, I should pick books that I have not already read.

This though, I do not regret re-reading at all.

Should I read this? Yes. Another yes, you must be getting tired of me recommending books but this is an excellent read. PKD is an original author with challenging ideas set in unfamiliar places. Maybe that is why he could explore those topics. Aldous Huxley is another author in the same vein. Maybe it is just my dystopian view of the world that makes this so good but try it.
What did I learn? We all dream of electric sheep.

Pride and Prejudice

My 9th book of 2014 is one of my old favourites, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

I have read this book more times than can remember. My estimate would be about two dozen full reads and a few more skims through.

It is a book I pick to remind myself of a world where women were disempowered and found ways to be themselves and buck gently against the system.

People think it is all about love but it isn't. Love is not the point. It is about two people finding respect for each other. Without it, love means nothing. Mr and Mrs Bennet are an example of not having that respect. Lizzy's father talks about marrying a woman he does not respect and living with himself for the rest of his life knowing that. He hopes his daughters don't get the same deal when they marry.

A friend asked me yesterday why I have read this book over and over again. I thought for a while and supposed it was a cool love story or strong women or the restrained drama... but, no. I read this over and over because of the words. It is so well written. The banter is brilliant and quick. The book itself is more than just the story and how it is told but is also the words used and how they are placed. Having read everything Austen wrote, I can say this is consistent but none as good as this classic.

Should I read this? Over and over again. Whether you are male or female, this book is one you should read. At least one Jane Austen book should be on your list of classics read.
What did I learn? I still love this book 23 years after first reading it.

Thank you for being my friends

This last seven days has seen me lean on my closest friends and on my family to get through the challenges. My support network is amazing and if I don't say it enough: Thank you.

Thank you to Allison Carleton for being my voice of reason and for giving me sanctuary in every storm.

Thank you to Bernarda Maia for never letting me apologise for who I am and always offering to help me bury the bodies.

Thank you to Taylor-Trina Kadiba for being my loyal, loving and always supportive sister. You are my best friend.

Thank you to Candace Wong for making me laugh when I wanted to cry, usually at her but also at myself.

Thank you to Ola Kl for reminding me that I am awesome even when I don't feel like I am. And for making it ok to have You're So Vain as my life soundtrack.

Thank you to Bruce Cartland for tolerating my stupidity and always lifting me up.

Thank you to Evelyn Moreno for showing empathy and letting me be myself.

Thank you to Janet Wong for being endlessly kind and sincerely celebrating and sharing every achievement with me for my entire career.

And although we are not facebook friends, thank you to my boss who kicks my arse at the right times and sits and shows compassion when it counts.

Thanks to everyone else for always being kind. It counts whether it is in cyberspace or meatspace. I am honoured and humbled.

Benefit of the Doubt

I have been good at giving people the benefit of the doubt lately. No matter the situation, I have been able to find it in myself to look through the anger or negativity or coldness and see that there is a person feeling something behind that aggression.

Not everything makes sense to me. The recent events have left me sad that my privacy could be so violated and then those around me think ill of me.

Sometimes, you can't control what is happening to your life and you just have to accept it. This is one of those times.

The cruel words. The false accusations. Being discarded and rejected as if I did something wrong, has been a learning experience. It is most well learnt when you realise that neither you nor the person angry with you did anything wrong. Someone else just kicked you both.

Oh well, I never expected more than friendship from my friend. I got much less and it all wrapped in blame.

Life is teaching me something. I'm learning. Somehow however, it feels like I strayed in to the wrong lecture room of life this day.

Now to move on.

Always feel compassion but move on.

The Lieutenant

My eighth book of 2014 is The Lieutenant by Kate Grenville. This is the best book I have read this year and Australians should have to read this. It is fiction but based in facts around the First Fleet.

The story is so relevant to recent events in my life that I related to the point of tears. Even if you aren't where I am in a place of hopelessness and acceptance, you will find this book brilliant.

Without the usual guilt you get from tales of the English meeting the original Australians, this book bases the history we all know in compassion.

You will see that world and moment in time through the eyes of a physicist who falls in love with a black girl but can not love her because he has made a commitment to a life that he chose before he discovered who he was.

There is a scene in the book where the protagonist realises that he didn't find the person he was until he met this amazingly brilliant woman who he could be himself with. As if he became a person because she accepted and expected he was that. They shared a love of language and a great intellect but existed in a time and place where it was not allowed. They shared a mutual respect.

There is so much more to this book than a love story. There is a love of science and of history. Kate Grenville is an amazing writer who took me there. There, where everyone should go.

Should I read this? Oh my goodness, yes.
What did I learn? Life is not something that you should let happen to you. You should experience it. Live it. Love through it. Fail. Get up again. Learn and learn some more. Regret nothing.

Curvy: How one man's lust made me see myself as fat

Curvy. Voluptuous. Hourglass. Buxom. Luscious. Curvaceous.

They were all words a recent boyfriend used to describe me. He lusted after curves and it was all he ever cared about when we were together or apart. It was almost an obsession and one he proclaimed was my most alluring characteristic.

For all the people who have called me a narcissist, I have never really thought of myself as being physically beautiful. For me, beauty is about your soul. It is your kindness and compassion. It is having a mind like a steal trap and always improving it. It is an ability to express your thoughts and convey real emotions. It is about authenticity and sincerity in actions and words.

Yes, it can be dressed up with a fit body, nice clothes or makeup but without a solid baseline, none of that makes you beautiful. People see through the socially acceptable beauty that is but skin deep. That makes that kind of attraction fleeting. Although I appreciate an attractive person, I do not crave them if they have no more than that.

This man I was seeing is quite amazing with words. He can convey in a paragraph more than most men I've known could say in a novel, with one of the great Russians writing on their behalf. He could paint a picture with words, that hastened your beating heart or restarted a stalled one.

The problem was that instead of focussing on any of the things I care about improving in myself, he pointed only at those curves. He would write to me each night about them and lay with me for hours, always concerned with them. Those bits and bumps that most women work hard to hide or exercise and diet away.

Now, some men act as though them accepting you aren't a supermodel is them doing you a favour. This was in that vein but a little more insincere. With him, it was as if nothing else about me existed and if I were any other women with any other brain or talent or soul that it would not matter.

After a while, I started to become very self-conscious of my curvy parts. Words like voluptuous and buxom made me think of tavern wenches in old stories where drunken men with little to no inhibitions would hit on anything in a skirt.

Before him, I always thought I was ok with a need to exercise more and lay off the cheese but now I feel more aware and a little alarmed at my curvy physical nature. What before was a part of who I am but not that important, makes me feel bulgy and awkward.

He has gone now, on to curvier pastures but his legacy lingers. It will take me some time to work my way back to being confident with who I am and in knowing that I am not the sum of my fatty bits. As I move away from that continuous maths view of curves back to my discrete maths underlying building blocks of the world view, I will ignore those men who focus on that aspect of me.

Even if I was a supermodel or whatever some guy's exact physical type is, I'd still rather be loved or lusted after for the other parts of me that I think are quite special and wonderful. Not the aspect but the attitude. Not the shapely shapefulness but the happy happiness beneath my smile. Not the fat or skinny parts but the thinking and speaking parts.

We must all find that beauty inside us and not let anyone break that with their obsession. If we don't then we are held to the standards of others and will only disappoint.

This is why I will always ask: Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

Violation of Volition

The preceding ten days has been a maelstrom of insanity accented with violations of my space and time. Yes, there have been major multi-dimensional offences committed.

The most distressing moment was when I realised that someone had complete access to my online presence, my online information and consequently my inner most thoughts via one of my laptops that had been stolen.

I have a habit that I developed mainly through work that has me writing an email that lets me honestly express my thoughts and feelings on a matter without any intention of ever sending it. Just writing it down gets it out of my system and I don't dwell on it anymore. It is always more brutally honest than I would ever be in reality. My email drafts folder is my Picture of Dorian Gray.

There are rules to this that I always honour in case by some cruel twist of fate, the dreaded email is sent:

• Never address the email to anyone;
• Do not mention the name of the person it is for; and
• Delete the email after a couple of weeks.

With the recent theft of one of my laptops, I have learnt a few lessons:

• Always set your laptop up to require password access;
• Encrypt your drives; and
• When a laptop is stolen, change all your passwords immediately.

The more recent set of rules is a result of the said theft of one of my computers on Thursday afternoon.

Yes, insurance covers it and it was reported to the police and all that. I am fine, no harm except that I now must lockdown my online presence and seriously reconsider my venting mechanisms.

Since Friday morning, I have received a few emails from people who were surprised to check their electronic post and find that they had grumpy or delightful or confusing notes from me. Luckily, none of the people who got these letters were the intended recipients so they laughed it all off and complimented me on my ability to insult or wow a person with such eloquence and lack of profanity.

There were (until I deleted them all yesterday afternoon), just under a dozen emails in my drafts folder that consisted of voluminous amounts of my thoughts on different subjects. Nothing terrible but nothing I actually ever wanted to share.

It seems that the person who took my laptop is the same person who has been making my life very difficult this last few weeks and finally got some ammunition to use against me. And boy did they use it.

So, the lesson here is to never write it down if you never want anyone to see it. Keep the thoughts in your head or whisper them to your pet rock but don't put them in gmail and then leave an unlocked laptop around to be stolen by a creep on a mission. It makes it far too easy for someone to screw with your life.

Now, with passwords changed, property secured and draft email folder empty, I shall continue my life and hope that no more damage has been done than the Send button being hit on a few ephemeral tanty-driven electronic brain dumps.

You aren't a priority

I have a lot of friends. In fact, it is possible that I call too many people friends.

Today, I had a friend who told me a bunch of truths about myself. One of them being that I am not loveable because he couldn't love me. He told me I love emotionally unavailable men because I do not wish to be loved. He told me that I was never his priority and never mattered. He told me that he never cared about me.

Ok, you can say A LOT of things about me but to say I am not open to love is wrong. Maybe I haven't found a person who can see my uniqueness. Maybe I haven't been around enough lately to make things work. Maybe I am not perfect.

I still think I am someone who is kind and full of love. To give and receive.

So, to that man or friend or somebody that I used to know, I am sorry I wasn't a priority to you but I'm not sorry. There is only one Damana and if you can't value her then it is your loss.

Comfortably Numb

It has been a long time since I shared the workings of my mind and what state I hold after recovering from clinical depression.

I still speak about my depression without shame or discomfort although I often see that in the eyes of those listening. It is still not understood that depression is an illness and not something that anyone would choose.

I would no longer consider myself someone who is suffering depression. It is something that I sometimes fear returning but I don't see myself ever returning to those dire straights. There are now too many tools under my belt to allow that regression.

There is however something very different to me now that never existed before my illness. I have a higher pain tolerance. I am happy but there is an undercurrent of chronic pain that exists as part of who I am now. My pain threshold does not allow it to overwhelm me but like chronic back pain, it is something I have learnt to live with. Unlike chronic back pain though, there are no pain killers or anti-inflammatories that will ease the constant ache. And no, antidepressants are not my friend because I am not depressed. This is an ingrained hurt that is laced between the atoms that make me. It can not be separated. It can not be dispersed.

I described my life recently to a friend as though I live on a super yacht that is my current happiness. This yacht is sailing on a giant lake of pain where at no point you can see all the edges. There is a thin film of sadness that reflects pretty colours and is often left in my yacht's happiness wake. However awful that may sound, it is a state that I understand and survive in quite happily... if not relatively.

Recently, I experienced immense happiness. Not just happiness but a spark of hope. Hope is something that was beaten out of me a long time ago and although I hold optimism in life and the future, I do not hope for more than what I am gifted with now... which is a lot.

Today that happiness fizzled and whisked away in the wind. I was left on my yacht on the lake, relatively happy.

The problem with this is that relativity has shifted. From the joy of beautiful hope to a sweet pensive sadness and down to what now feels like a comfortable numbness.

There are still endless reasons to smile. There are still reasons to be optimistic. There are still great moments to be sailed. The problem is, the numbness leaves me feeling it all as if I were floating outside my body watching someone else pilot me. Being John Malcovich with me as the puppet.

A part of me knows that the numbness will recede and I will sail my yacht of happiness again but the yacht will feel smaller and the pain lake bigger and the oily film of sadness slicker and thicker.

This all makes me wonder why I'd ever attempt or accept a happy state again if it ever presented itself because when it rejected me and left me floating unmoored, the vessel I travel in will be smaller.

I shall ponder this as I ponder many things, all the while feeling comfortably numb.

Sand

Each day, I grasp life in my hand and try to make sure I do it right. That I don't fuck it up and in doing so, do the best I can be.

Yesterday, I let the sand run through my fingers.

I let things be what they are. Accept that what is, is. Accept that what will be, will be. Que sera sera.

And today, life feels better. So much better. Coated in chocolate better.

Sometimes, it is best just to let it go. Let the sand run through your fingers.

Dark and Lovely

Characters. There is an album that I remember from when I was in my formative years. It really did shape me in ways. Stevie Wonder can do that to you. He changes the way you think. Music does.

If you have not heard it then you should take the trip, and it is a trip.

There is not a song on this album that can't teach you something.

Cruel To Be Kind

I was in a crap situation until today, where there were two awesome people who were going towards a place of pain and suffering for more than just themselves.

So, I broke it. Stopped it. Took it beyond recovery.

Sometimes, the one who ends it is not the coldest but the strongest.

Life is too short

When I was very young... when my age was just a single digit, I heard about how many books were in my school library. My school wasn't very big and I knew there were bigger libraries in the world and so many more books. Of course, not all books are worth reading but even if only 20% of them were and it took me a week to read each one... well, I'd never live long enough to read all the books I wanted to read.

I lay in bed and wept.

Now I am older and I have read so many more books but still they keep writing more that I need to read. There is non-fiction to go along with all the fiction that is still out there.

So, I don't watch television or movies much. And there is much much more time but still not enough.

So I lay in bed and weep.

The Ocean At The End Of The Lane

Since I am not counting Green Eggs and Ham, book 7 of 2014 is Neil Gaiman's The Ocean At The End Of The Lane.

I have read a lot of his books, starting with Neverwhere. Maybe that was my mistake because I have never enjoyed any of them the way I loved that story. American Gods disappointed me and made me realise that books others rave about can mean absolutely nothing to me and that is ok.

This book is good. It starts slowly though and makes me feel as though it was written with a movie in mind for it. I really hope that isn't the case but it sure feels like it.

Gaiman paints pictures with simple and accessible words unlike any modern authors I can think of today. I do enjoy reading him just for each individual sentence. He is a master like that.

It's a short book and obviously a short story that had to be told as a novel. It is easy to consume and enjoyable.


Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? When we are children, the world is magical. When we grow up, we are too broken to see that magic anymore. That thought makes me sad.

Eragon

Book 6 of 2014 in my reading quest is Eragon by Christopher Paolini. It is the first book in the Inheritance series. It is nice to read a book that has a dragon that isn't just a beast. Although, this book has that Like Skywalker kind of whingey young man become hero gets old, the story is engaging.

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? The dragons are wise, beautiful and fierce. I want to be one when I grow up.

Life is like a box of chocolates on a 37 degree Celsius Canberra day

It's true. Sometimes, I am a complete fool. Sometimes a total bitch. And other times, nuttier than a Picnic bar. Most of the time, I'm doing my best to be a decent and considerate person. Although the road to hell is paved with good intentions, it is not good enough to act intending one thing and hurt others. So, I'm sorry if I've been an idiot. Will try to be less of one.

The Arabian Nights

Book five of 2014 is Sir Richard F. Burton's translation of The Arabian Nights. This book brought back so many childhood memories. Obviously, I read a children's version of this because I don't recall there being so many references to sex or to people being quartered.

This is well worth the revist and not an effort to consume.

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? That women were regarded as cunning and smart in these stories. They were respected and treated as calm. This is a very different view than what I expected. I also got used to the thanking of Ala every five seconds.

Fry's English Delight by Stephen Fry

I have just finished listening to the entire series Fry's English Delight and am considering this my fourth book of 2014.

Like everything Stephen Fry does, I think it is worth taking the time to consume. He is the delight. 

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? Metaphor means "to transfer" in Greek and is used in modern Greek language for furniture removalists and bank transfers. The word in English means to transfer a meaning from one thing to another.

How to Live on 24 Hours a Day by Arnold Bennett

Book three of 2014 is How To Live On 24 Hours a Day by Arnold Bennet.

It is from very early last century, and after you stop giggling at some of the silliness, it is thought-provoking. The main idea is that we have one equaliser and that is that we have 24 hours in a day. How we use that is important. It really encourages you not to have time where you're just waiting and doing nothing.

Not sure I agree with it all but it is interesting. A very short read and worth the effort, even if just for the smile.

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? How to look at my down-time and find an active way to live life.

We Are All Weird: The Myth of Mass and the End of Compliance

Book 2 for this year is: We Are All Weird: The Myth of Mass and the End of Compliance by Seth Godin.

As someone who has read his blog religiously for years, I found this book was concise and to the point as expected. The idea was interesting and one I'd heard others voice but didn't know where it came from.

Weirdness being about choice and the growth of the Internet supporting small tribes who would have been outliers is an interesting idea.

As someone who spends a lot of time making my own choices (good or bad) and has a lot of people telling me how I should act to be normal, this resonated on many levels.

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? I feel far less pressured to conform. Not that I ever really did but now I feel less concerned about it.

On Depression

Imagine that the laws of the universe changed. Imagine that to maintain the structure you have, you would have to concentrate with all your energy on all the bits that make you, you.

You have to picture the molecules made up of the atoms made up of electrons and protons and neutrons and tiny things that are proven in colliders.

The last thing you think at night is the shape you are and that is held until the next day when you wake up and you think the same so that it holds your shape.

Think of all the effort it takes. The pure exertion of effort that you must give to make your toe a toe and your lung a lung.

If you let go for even a second, you will fade in to billions of tiny parts that never recombine.

It is tiring, right?

That is what it is like to be depressed. That is how much effort it takes.

Outliers: The Story of Success

Last year I wanted to read 25 books and I read 27. This year, I aim to read 25. This is the first.

Outliers is another great Gladwell book that made me go and look up a whole bunch of concepts, studies and ideas to get a deeper understanding behind his ideas. Ideas that bring together psychology, anecdotes and statistics to tell many interesting stories about the favourable variables that come together to give people advantage on top of which hard work and risk taking can lead to success.

Having read Blink and Tipping Point, which changed the way I think, it took me a while to get to this much bigger book. It however has changed the way I think about approaching life more than the first two.

It was interesting that Gladwell is part black Jamaican. I don't usually google the authors I read but I did at the end of this book due to the last story about his grandmother. He is different to what I imagined. Go the fro.

Now, I must go off and work out what factors make up being me.

Should I read this? Yes
What did I learn? Success if all about opportunity, luck and hard work.

Getting Back Up Again

It is raining in Canberra as I write this. Having grown up in the tropics, rain to me is warm and welcoming. It washes away the day and pushes back the heat. This feels like the right time to sit down and take in the last few months.

As one of the most stressful episodes of my life comes to an end, I am learning to accept that I can survive pretty much anything that life throws at me. I can survive it and not fall apart.

The thing is that surviving doesn't mean that I prospered during that time. It doesn't mean I felt happy every second. It doesn't mean I smiled and was thankful for what got me there.

There is a powerful myth in our society that dictates that happiness is something we must feel 100% of the time and if we aren't then something is wrong. That is wrong and causes a lot of self-doubt when people have a bad time. They tend to think that any emotion that isn't under-pinned by happiness is a fractured and bruised existence.

Feeling other emotions is not a failing. It is life. It is normal.

As long as there is a general happiness and more good moments than bad then I am satisfied that my life is going well.

In July, I experienced something that no woman should ever have to face. I found myself in a position that I never expected and realised that those who were obliged to protect me were unwilling to do so. That shook my view of work and life and people, in general.

The following weeks saw me slow my life down and finally stand still, in some hope that everything would stop spinning. The weeks lead to months and I didn't start working again until one week ago.

It isn't easy for anyone to not work for that long but if I hadn't had that time to rest and recover, I wouldn't be so energised and ecstatic about what I find myself doing now. Burn-out from over work and the horror of July meant that I spent weeks at my parent's house sleeping and trying to get my brain going again.

It wasn't like when I had severe clinical depression. It was nothing like that actually. There were shitty moments but it never felt so hopeless like falling in to a bottomless pit. It was tough though and there were nights for months where I slept with the lights on in my bedroom or didn't sleep until the Sun came up. For some reason, day time seemed safer. That or I was becoming a vampire. I do sparkle.

Anyone who has been through really bad patches will tell you that being in a rut isn't the most horrible part. The being in it part is something you can accept as what you are going through. It is falling in and climbing out that are the most challenging moments. No, not moments. Moments are short and fleeting. These are periods of time and everything slows down like when you stack a push bike and see the ground coming at you.

Right now, I am climbing out. Back at work and thriving as part of a real team where I feel I belong. I'm not allowed to work more than 40 hours a week which leaves me 20 more hours for life that the last job didn't. Yeah, no more 240 hour months.

Restabilising takes time. My new routine is being established. My old friends and new colleagues and awesome family and wonderful social circle are helping me bound back to a semblance of a normal life. Soon it will actually be a normal life. Accepting that I am no longer tripping on every tree root as I run blindly from the wolves is not as easy as I'd hoped. I keep checking for the wolves when a granny with a chin walks by. Sometimes, I even lose it and say I'll just give up and not participate anymore but I wake up the next day and I do.

So, I'm getting there. There are so many people I have to take aside and thank for holding my head above water. There are others who don't deserve to be mentioned or even to have a thought wasted on them. They don't matter. Only the good ones do.

And I'm a good one too. Just one who is trying to get the rhythm back in my life.

Timing is Everything

About a week ago, I sent a message to my good friend Joy saying "hey." It was some ungodly hour of the night when I couldn't sleep. My friends know I get like that once in a while.

By pure chance and possibly due to sleepy eyes, I sent the "hey" message to someone else. Someone who I'd forgotten or blocked out to the point that his initials triggered nothing in my memory. None of our texts had been preserved which either meant his number came from my old work phone or I'd trashed the messages. That would be rare if I didn't send the number down the shoot with them so I figured there was a work-friend connection.

He responded commenting on the late time to send messages. I apologised saying I didn't meant to send that to him and didn't know who he was anyway. It didn't take too much banter to realise who he was.

Now, I don't regret the past. It is one of my rules. Living in the here and now, accepting what has happened to make me who I am now and going on with the lessons learnt has been my ethos for many years now.

This one however caused that twang of sadness or doubt or a just full sub-cutaneous jab to something with exposed tendons and lots of nerve endings.

There has been only one time in my life when I met a person and the chemistry was amazing and everything else was brilliant and thanks to crap timing on my part the first time and his part now, it all adds up to nothing. Just a twang like a string on a broken guitar.

And this proves two things to me...

1. Don't look back; and
2. Delete phone numbers from your phone that you should never ever text.

Stages of Input

Sometimes, I can't go more than a few hours without returning to a book or two. That can last months.

Then there are times that I want to watch movie after movie until my brain is so full of stories that useful information falls out. Useful information like people's names.

Music doesn't seem to be a need that waivers. It is always there.

Not sure what changes each time to push me from one obsession to another. And they Are obsessions. Never ending walks that all of a sudden end with me feeling over-satisfied. Sometimes, I think I will never want to read or watch again.

But I do.

Sally and Harry

I wrote to you.

A few times.

I deleted them. I wrote to you and it was always when I was watching movies.

There were these moments in the movies when you'd cry. Maybe you'd cry. Yeah, probably.

Then there was this movie and I typed the text. Then there was this movie and I typed a text. Then it happened again.

So tonight, Harry met Sally. So I wrote this and it's dumb and every time I think about it, I'm more and more convinced I did the right thing.

Some things

Some things will always scare me.

There are things that we learn from willingly and there are things that are taught to us against our will. Therapists may call them triggers. Future partners may call them baggage. Employers may call them risks.

Some things may always scare me.

There are people you meet who will enrich your life and there are people who will meet you and take a little more than they give. Therapists can call them influencers. Future partners can call them exes. Employers can call that person you were with at the Christmas party last year.

Some things can scare me.

But their impact softens in time and all the lessons are learnt and filed while the Christmas party photos are still on facebook.

Moving Shadows

My friends think I am part cat or was one in my last life. This comes not from my need to lick my feet but more from my ability to sleep anywhere, at any time and in what looks to others like a very uncomfortable or unnatural position.

Last night, I fell asleep on the couch. My couch is my second bed and not a rare place to find me dozing at different hours and ends of the day. In this case, I'd dozed off around 8pm-ish while playing twelve simultaneous games of Words With Friends. This was one of those times when I zzz'd without actually dropping my phone on my head. Again like a cat, waking startled and looking for someone else to blame usually accompanies that ka-thump.

It was just on the pumpkin-turning hour when my mind was swimming between awake and asleep that the movement of the shadows on the wall seemed somehow wrong to me. That feeling of pulling yourself almost drowning through the surface of the water held me more on the sleepy side of awake. That further added to how much the shadows confused. Then my brain kicked in and it wasn't in that newly woken state but driven by an intravenous coffee with Red Bull hit of adrenaline. Bam!

Now I was awake but very still and lying where my mind had exploded but my body was only following limply. The shadows were still shadows. They were cast by the outside light through the two double paned windows and on to the opposing inside wall. My windows are tall and wide with a divider between each two paned set. That line was hard and fast in the shadow.

It took less time for me to realise why the shadows were changing than it did for me to regain full consciousness. Raw fear will do that to a person.

Moving slowly from one thinly curtained window to the next was the silhouette of a man. He bobbed towards the glass and then away as he avoided the potted plants that interrupted his irregular pacing back and forth.

Then my mind realised that he wasn't pacing. He was trying the different windows. The movable glass panels were shut to keep the horrid hay fever inducing pollen out and that was why I couldn't hear him rattling at the edges until I focused my senses on the sound.

My couch sits against the wall that the windows are in. The high green leathered back meant that I was hidden from his view. The lacy inner curtains were all that were drawn so he would have seen in but without any detail. That lack of detail meant he couldn't have seen me lying in a dark room snuggled in to the forrest green leather of the couch.

I was invisible.

I was invisible at least until I moved from the couch and then there was little doubt that he would see me. Even crawling across the floor wouldn't have protected me from view. Sometimes minimalism is not as convenient as it should be.

The window shook now. Not rattled like before. He was using force.

I shook in disagreement.

The shadow moved violently and a strained metallic aching sound groaned in my general direction. I felt safer because the windows were fighting back.

Then like a bad horror movie just after the scene where they say "let's split up" and actually go ahead with that idea, my mobile phone rang. It was very much a spring-loaded cat moment and if it wasn't for the shrill whistle of my Kill Bill ringtone that seems so funky in a crowded bar, my squeal would have been very obvious.

Every single thing in that moment froze. He froze. I froze. Everyone but the phone was taking this moment seriously.

Without really thinking it through, I picked up the phone and said very loudly "Hi Mum, I was just asleep. Are you almost here? I'm not ready yet but I will be."

With that, I jumped off the couch and casually walked to the light switch and turned all the lights on.

The shadows on the wall disappeared but I could still see his still body trying to hide behind the window divider. I continued to talk in a relaxed and booming voice as he fled.

My friend on the phone was freaking out a little as I calmly and numbly but with no breath or punctuation explained what had just happened. She was simultaneously dialling the police on her other mobile while she assisted my tripping sentences with profanity as punctuation.

It was all ok in the end. The combination of the defiant fighting windows, the opportune (for me) phone call and the Kill Bill soundtrack seemed to be enough to chase my shadow friend away.

Whether or not he returns, we can't yet know. I sure hope not.

One thing I am sure about is that I'll never wake to a worrying shadow and dismiss it as a trick of the tired mind again. And honestly, I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing.

[Update: This is fiction written for Halloween]

Dealing with Rejection

This appeared on Facebook a week ago. It resounded with me as this is my one triggers that I still work on dealing with.

This mental conversation tool has been very effective in the the last week that I've been using it.

"
How to deal with rejection:

1. Do you want something you don't have? - Yes.
2. Did you get what wanted? - No
3. OK - Nothing has changed then. You are exactly where you were before you decided you wanted this thing.
4. Were you OK when you didn't have it? - Yes, I was RAD!
5. Excellent... moving right along then.

"

Heart Palpitations

You give me heart palpitations. Let me explain how. It actually makes a lot of sense. So I think of you and it's random and the thoughts pop in and I push them out and they keep coming. I make a coffee. Distraction seems my best hope. Normal tasks and hobbies and chores don't stop the ideas and repeated conversations. I make a coffee. An early dinner cooked with effort and detail. I make a coffee. Then the seeds need watering. They are peeping their tiny sprouts through the soil that looks a lot like coffee grinds. I make a coffee. Finished another book. One I'd read before when I was ten. I drank all those coffees I made. You give me heart palpitations.

And the band played Waltzing Matilda

I have a handful of best friends. Literally five people who are in my inner circle. That does not include my family who are my 0th circle. The friends are in the 1st circle of Manadom.

Interesting things about my friends include:

• They are imports or if Aussie then they don't live in Australia;
• They are non-judgemental and respect that fact that others sport differing opinions; and
• They are very smart and extremely humble.

This is consistent and uncompromising.

Let's not play the mental health card

After the most recent massacre in the US, I have heard a line over and over again that does nothing but irk me.

It goes something like "Let's not play the PTSD card" or "Let's not play the mental health card" or some such card playing statement.

If you stop and really really think about it then you will easily come to the conclusion that a sane person does not go out there and shoot people. Not for any reason. Not outside a war zone or under some perceived threat.

Mental illness seems to be dismissed quite regularly as some kind of excuse.

My theory is that this comes from temporary insanity as a line of defence against murder charges and its overuse in American TV shows with unimaginative writers. It may also come from the idea that being locked up in a mental institution for treatment is some easier form of punishment than the rock breaking labour of real prison.

Either way, those are valid ways of dealing with people in those situations. They are not excuses or made up plot lines constructed to allow bad people to escape consequences.

Mental illness is real. It is not an excuse. It can sometimes be a reason but it is never an excuse.

I mean to take nothing from the people or the families of those who are harmed in such horrible events but I also will not let mental illness and people doing things because they are ill be treated like an escape clause.

Mental illness is real. You may not have suffered it but that doesn't make it a holiday on the beach with cocktails in coconut shells.

Mental illness is not reasonable. You may not understand what it is like for your mind to tell you something that isn't real but it does happen.

Mental illness is not a escape clause. In fact, there is a shadow that hangs over you forever that is accompanied by a pain that you will always dread.  It will go away and you will be well, if you are lucky. It will not dictate who you are always. It will however give you some empathy for the idea that sometimes people are just crazy and sometimes crazy is just people.

Your inability to comprehend something does not mean it does not exist.

Write For Yourself

Friends and strangers often ask me how I got the confidence to write and where the skill came from. I still dispute the skill part but I'm more than happy to share the key to my seeming confidence.

There are three things that allow me to write and they are all you need.

1. Write for yourself
I never write anything for the validation or love of anyone else. My writing comes from the need to articulate and sort through my thoughts. That means that when the tapping on the keyboard ends and the readings are read and the brain dump is done then my mind is at peace.

You must find your own reason to write. Simply putting words together will not result in the authenticity you need in your written voice.


2. Write a lot
So many good writers talk about the fact that they treat their writing like a job. They write from 9-5 in the way we do our day jobs. Yes, that's a tough thing to do or mostly impossible unless you are being paid for it or are funemployed. You still must write.

Find the time to write and do it regularly. It will improve your ability to write in your voice.

3. Read a lot
Nothing will teach you how to say something like listening to someone else say that. Hanging around with people who love and play with words can be complimented by reading a lot. If it has words on it and you can make it stay still enough long enough to read it then tie it down.

The best speakers and writers are huge readers. Pick up that book.


So write for yourself and do it a lot and fill the rest of the time with reading and living.

Conversations with Girlfriends

It is amazing how good it is to share your current state of temporal inanity with your female friends.

It is never the same telling it to the opposite sex no matter how empathic they are or how close you are to them. Girlfriends get you on a different level.

Until an hour long conversation tonight, I was feeling a bit like a parrot who had lost its squawk. Like Austin Powers drained of mojo. Like a girl walking barefoot in to a crowded ballroom.

The thing that has become quite apparent to me over the years is that when you tell someone else what is going on in your head, you find that you are not at all alone. In fact, you find that no matter what you think of your own thoughts of actions that they are never as bad as you think. Someone else has been there before.

There are many people out there who will just tell you to suck it up but you don't want those ones. Find someone who understands and take a short time to be understood. Then move on.

Being understood does not mean validated. It just means someone will listen and not judge you. They may accept what you are thinking or offer an alternative.

Sisters over misters.

With Oils and Spoils

I painted you a picture but not with pigments. It was crafted and planned and utterly wasted since it goes unheard. There weren't haystacks of lilies or sunflowers whipped in frenzy. There weren't blocks or legends or shapes carved from stone.

It seems that all I have are words.

So the canvas was spotless. The stone was a solid block. My tools were not tangible. My creation does not pose. Everything I said was lost with no repose.

And life goes forward like a stream of tweets with only the last ten read.
And life goes forward like a wedding once the wedding guests are fed.
And life goes forward like the doggerel that is pulsing through my head.

With the message being I wrote it, only because you exist. A message that doesn't do feelings because that is not what I do. Maybe a message that will sink in and see me safely through.

TV Show Recommendations - Sci Fi

People are always recommending TV shows to each other. I have blitzed through a few lately that I'd like to urge you to watch.

Revolution

A post apocalyptic drama without zombies is a nice break. Made by the Lost crew, it has that stranded on a desert island feeling but the island is the ex-USA and all the power has been turned off. Even the whiney little kids grow up quickly and stop annoying you. It is only one season in at this point but well worth the watch.

Orphan Black

A bad girl who witnesses the suicide by train of a woman who looks exactly like her, takes on the dead woman's life and all its complications. This is not your typical American sci-fi drama and that could be because it is mostly Canadian. I watched the entire first season on the edge of my couch. If you watch nothing else on this list, watch this.

Warehouse 13

This honestly is one of the dorkiest sci-fi series I have ever watched but I can't help but love it. It is very formulaic and often predictable but the characters make up for it. The acting does improve over the seasons and so do the story lines. Guest appearances from the greats of sci-fi TV from Bionic Woman, Torchwood, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Star Trek: TNG & Voyager and even Warehouse's sister series Eureka, to name a few. If you love all sci-fi TV then this is your show.

Those are my top 3. Get on it!

Strawberries and Dream

Sitting here eating strawberries has to be the highlight of my day.

That isn't a bad thing, with days becoming simpler. There is a lot of time to think and dream and write. Most of that writing isn't happening online. It is in books with pens on paper on thoughts. It is code in languages that didn't exist last century.

So much has happened this week. It has been a headspin of Exorcistesque proportions.

There have been so many words written and then deleted.

There have been so many words said and then retrieved.

There have been so many moments that simply have to have happened and can't be erased without some major low level formatting.

My biggest learning from this week is more a relearning of something I know and should always known consciously. It is that what I decided will happen is what will end up happening in my life. If I decided something will be brilliant then it is. If I decide it will be a large pile of poo then it ends up that way.

The will makes the path which ultimately leads to the outcome you willed.

This week may have been all kinds of broken and as long as I keep thinking that I am broken then it will keep being this way. I gave something away that was a mistake. No willing or wishing or spanking or swishing will negate that.

Instead, I have to learn a lesson from it and not let it repeat.

Sounds easy, right?

Definition

He doesn't want to define this.

This thing that is so extreme and instant and random.

He avoids the comments that commit to anything. Maybe because he does not commit to anything.
He gives as much as he can without writing it in blood. Maybe because he bleeds just like a man.
He gives me time which he has and he knows I need. But then time is the one thing he fears.

Is it possible to connect with someone in so sincere a way and deny that connection because of convention?

I'm not conventional. Thing is, most everyone else is.

Stop Being a Victim

Today, I was reading an interesting timeline of a friend of mine on Facebook. She likes to read non-fiction and hardly reads fiction these days. Her timeline is full of articles about science, feminism and art. Everything she posts is worth reading and I find the stream of articles she shares thought invoking and challenging.

The article she posted today was not too challenging. I didn't agree with its premis that men are more successful because they are more competitive and that is because they either innately or through life learn to play well in groups. It is an interesting idea but as usual myself and a lot of my female friends are living contradictions. Ask anyone who has worked with me or played boardgames with me or even had a glass of champagne with me on Melbourne Cup Day and you'll hear how insanely competitive I can be. This has been tempered with age but that drive is still alive and well and a healthy part of who I am.

That isn't the point of why I am writing this though.

Along with this post on her timeline came comments from one of our mutual friends. This friend interprets everything she reads as evidence to reinforce her view of the world. In this case, men and women work against people like her who have a competitive spirit and combine to thwart her upward and forward movement in her life.

If this was a one off occasion then it wouldn't bother me too much. This however is not a one time thing. She is the flagship amongst some negative people I know who suffer from a victim mentality.

It is painful to watch and impossible to talk to her about because all she'd see is more people raining on her parade. To be honest, if she read this, she wouldn't even know I meant her. *sigh*

There is a simple formula I have for life...

People who look outward for the cause of all their problems will never fix the real cause which is most often their approach to life. Instead they will blame others.

People who look inward for cause and try to improve who they are or what their choices are (including who they allow in their lives) will become better people. They will do so because they realise that you can't change how others act towards or around you but you can change how you deal with them and their effects.

Luckily, her and I are no longer Facebook friends. I could only stand it for so long. Having been at this point once in my life, I realised that I wasn't so much wrong about who had made my life miserable but blaming him brought me no closure. It didn't allow me to move forward.

I often think of this quote and hope others actually listen and let things people have done to them go. It is the only way to take power away from the person who hurt you and set yourself free.


“When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.”  --Catherine Ponder