As one year comes to an end and another begins I go through a process of looking back in the hope that it will help me to move forward. This annual ritual is not always a pleasant process as my family will tell you.

All too easily I become consumed with what didn’t happen and what I didn’t achieve. You know the routine – you start by looking at the list of goals you’d set the previous year, you go through them and discover the truth … I didn’t lose weight, I didn’t exercise enough, I didn’t blah, blah, blah …. on and on I go. Often I am not even aware this negativity has taken over although I do know the consequences of it only too well. I feel sad and worthless as a result. My dreams are discounted. My passions are ignored. My achievements are not even acknowledged, let alone celebrated. The thought of things being different seems impossible. What’s even worse I start to set similar goals for the year ahead because this year it is going to happen – only it doesn’t. I then start to look for all the faults within me that are to blame. And to think – I do this to myself. I choose to put myself through this angst and for what purpose?

Every year I try to change my response to this self-imposed yearly review and every year I return to this same place to a greater or lesser extent.

This year I am determined to change this pattern.

In retrospect it is true that 2010 was a year full of many challenges – my sister fighting endometrial cancer, my mother-in-law almost dying and her difficult rehabilitation process, my uncle in Croatia becoming ill and dying, my son’s ongoing health issues, Lynsey’s job being disestablished and uncertainty over my own job are a few examples of what I dealt with.

As I look back I realise my role was to love, to support, to listen, to physically help out where needed – basically to do whatever was required to help others and myself get through whatever presented itself – and I did it despite the numerous obstacles along the way that tried to trip me up. So even the difficult times were a gift because they helped me to focus on what really matters to me.

It is easy to look back in retrospect and say if only I had done such and such. The fact is we can’t go back. We all do the best we can in any given moment in time. The only thing we can change is what we do next once we realise what it is we would like to have changed.

At the same time 2010 was a year full of some amazing experiences and achievements for me – further developing my portrait photography skills by completing two courses and showing my work in two exhibitions,  being accepted for the Masters in Art Therapy programme at Whitecliffe College of Arts and Design, celebrating my mother’s eightieth birthday, being promoted at work, completing a number of online journalling workshops, going on a five week trip to the UK and Europe, forming new friendships both in-person and online, and creating all sorts of different art works whenever I had the opportunity.

As with every other year of my life what has been is now relegated to the archives of my being. The memories are there should I need to call them up – the good, the bad, the ugly.

None of this need to define the way forward unless I choose it to.

So what have I learned about me over this past year and what am I going to take with me and develop further as I go forward?

I learned that I am so much more than any one thing that I have or haven’t done. I am so grateful for the year that’s been because I have grown and changed as a direct result of all I experienced. As for the year ahead – bring it on I say. I am ready! I have behind me what I have already learnt. I have the ability to be creative and always challenge my thinking. I am ready to learn more this year about me, about life and about living. I am ready to be even better than I already am and that feels great.

Manifesto
02. Every day is an opportunity for a new beginning.
03. Every day is an opportunity to reflect on the past.
04. Every day is an opportunity to cultivate the promise of the future.

Another Christmas is close at hand.
A time to celebrate
the gift of life.

Celebrating
beginnings and endings
lessons learnt along the way
achievements
pain endured and survived
new dreams
new plans
decisions made
opportunities taken
shedding things and saying good-bye
being grateful for what we have and what has been
and the fun we had along the way.

Celebrating
the people we love;
those that can be with us
those that can’t.

Celebrating
connections
through shared experiences …

I watched her move across the stage
oblivious to anything except
what she was doing.
The moment took over.
Floating
so beautiful
so graceful.
The colours flickered before my eyes.
The music filled the air.
I was transported to
another time
another place
another girl.
Now became before.
My niece became
my daughters
my sisters
me.

Celebrating
the person I am today.
Different
truer to herself
full of love
surrounded by those that love me
seeing and experiencing every day
excited by what has been, what is now and the possibilities of what lies ahead.
Grateful for all I have,
all that I am,
my life.

Manifesto
01. Every day is a fresh new day.
24. Every day is a journey. Not a destination.
39. Every day trust that there is a bigger picture. You are a part of it even if you may not know what it is.

Our friends Gabi and James got married today. Gabi made a big contribution when we got married, and it felt very good to be able to make a contribution to their first steps as a married couple. We both had very small weddings, mostly family and a very few close friends. And we both had excellent catering. Right. That’s the priorities sorted out then.

We had a great time with the combined families – it was such a privilege to be invited (and involved).

I’ve never quite figured out whether Gabi and James are friends or family. I think it’s very, very rare that your true family are the people in your birth family. It’s generally less complicated if you build your own family from selections from the rest of humanity.

Best wishes for a lifetime of love.

Manifesto
02. Every day is an opportunity for a new beginning.
10. Every day connect with somebody.
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.

It took a birds a few days to discover the food, and then suddenly we were on the A-list for food supplies. I’m such a sucker for helping out the birds, and I feel so happy when an occasional stranger drops by – in this case a hen Chaffinch. They’re not exactly hugely common here but they’re not exactly every day either. I really like the sultry pink of the male – very oo-la-la – but we didn’t see the male.

We were standing in kitchen admiring the flocks of little birds and basking in the love when to our complete horror a rat bounded along and straight up the shrub. Without the faintest hesitation the rat started scoffing the bird mix, looking around for a moment and then back into it. The atmosphere in the kitchen ranged between shocked horror – (yeek a rat!), fear – (mercy for the little birds – our new friends), outrage – (you greedy barbarian), relief – (thank God it’s outside), suspicion – (can it get inside?), guilt – (did our putting out the food attract this abomination?), accusation – (that rat is definitely from the neighbour’s place – couldn’t *snif* have come from our place), and the killing rage – (I keel you and your family’s family!!). Luckily by the time I’d got a hammer and returned to the scene of the robbery the rat had eaten its fill and had departed.

We all calmed down, and the birds returned.

Update: I put out a few nice blue/green coloured snacks for Mr Rat in an old drain pipe. A few days later the snack had entirely gone, and I do hope Mr Rat is seeking more convivial feeding options elsewhere.

Manifesto
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.
26. Every day take action. Every small step counts.
32. Every day have a laugh.

Except for Nunga. Now there’s a sport that totally engages me. You’ve probably never heard of it much less played it and even less seen it being played. Don’t feel bad, it’s not available on the sports channel. Hopefully never will be. Nunga is a game we made up a few years back. At a family reunion. We were bored to the point of paralysis and there was nothing to see or do, and nowhere to run to. Nunga to the rescue.

Nunga is a solo sport you play with other people. You need a team of two or more people. Probably five is optimal, more than that they should split off into a separate team so you’ve got somewhere to defect to. Defecting to other teams is an important, if not essential, component. You’ll need a branch/pole/broken broomstick/peg, and at least one ring of some kind. Initially we used an axle off a pushchair and a couple of the broken/rusted out wheels – just the decaying rubber and rusty rims left. Sink the branch/axle in the ground deep enough so about 30 cm/ 1 foot remains above ground.

The object of the game is to throw the ring over the branch. Just like throwing quoits. Horseshoes. Here is where the sport differs. It’s over to the thrower to decide where they’ll stand to throw. Most people start right up close, and then move further back as their confidence and competence grows. They make it just difficult enough. Nunga is a sport that most anyone of any age can compete in with an equal opportunity to win at – physicality is not a requirement – in fact being a stunning athlete in the traditional form is a disadvantage.

Merely getting the ring over the peg doesn’t really win the points. There are no points. The other people on the team are there to boost you onwards to ever bolder moves. How you score is by ever moving out of your comfort zone and still hooping the ring over the peg. The best players are those who can call like a rooster, scurry up clucking like a chicken, run past the peg, and throw the ring without looking, have in bounce off a car, knock (but not spill) Aunty Joy’s gin and tonic, spin on its axis and then descend gracefully around the peg; to the wild screams and applause of the other participants – each of whom are determined to outdo the theatrical splendor, grace, and riskiness standard so recently set. The frailer or younger participants have the advantage that any flamboyance exhibited will be more valued than mere physical expertise. Singing, dancing, chanting, flames, hop, skip, and jump. Spin, twist, and yahoo to your heart’s content. Giggle like a loony-thing. The most important thing is to engage and enjoy as raucously as possible.

Don’t watch the game. BE the game.

PS – When the winning match was scored, my colleagues politely applauded and quietly returned to their desks. Not a lot of Nunga there.

How we seek the right angle. I don’t mean the 90^o kind of right angle, I mean the kind of edge to get things done. The right way. The wu wei. The angle of repose. The active inaction. The do without doing. Naturally occurring evidence. It’s the kind of thing you often see with someone who can do a manual task with the elegant simplicity that looks absolutely effortless.

I love to watch this kind of activity. The ballet of blowing glass. The delicacy of cake decorating. Cutting glass. Throwing a lump of clay on to a wheel and then stroking up a beautiful pot. The one that grinds me – people who can draw a likeness in a couple of lines, a dot or two, and a couple of squiggles. I hate them, I love them.

In my head I know there’s hours of practice and failure before this effortless magnificent, but I also secretly hope that one day there’ll be some astounding talent to be mined out of my murky depths and I’ll be able to amaze my friends and family.

I guess everyone dreams of having super powers. Maybe it’s just about getting the angle right.

Manifesto
13. Every day be better than you were the day before.
19. Every day make time for yourself.
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.

He was a good man. A strong man. A hard working man. A loving man. A family man. A man fighting to eke out a living for his wife and ten kids. A man with limited education, limited options, limited support. A man who deserved better, but the times conspired against him – against them all, and nothing better was forthcoming.

The man eased the aches and pains of his heavy physical work and the soul crushing poverty of his circumstances with an occasional visit to the local pub. Easy to do – after a stinking hot day labouring – nothing sweeter than a nice cold beer and a chat with his mates. Easy to have a second beer. Easy to have fun, have a laugh, have a bet.

The man once bet he could carry a sack of coal the length of the main street of the town. A sack of coal weighed one hundredweight – 112 pounds (50 kg). The length of the main street – one mile (1.6 km). What the wager was doesn’t really matter. Yes, the man did walk the mile (up hill) carrying a one hundredweight sack of coal. Whether the wager was for beer or for money the end result was the same – the night ended in mind numbing drunkenness, boastful stories, and little food on the table.

The man’s wife raised the children as best she could. Some things were unchangeable. Food was cooked over a huge open fire, and this also provided any hot water and heating. The house was too small, too drafty, and the earth floor did nothing to improve the health and hygiene of the family. And when the man came home – finally – full of alcohol and bitterness – keeping quiet was the safest option. The kids often slept two in a bed – for warmth, because there was simply no other option, and for a couple of the boys there was some safety in numbers. It was nothing for the man to stagger home having lost his bicycle ‘somewhere down the road’ – and he’d chase the boys out of bed in the early hours of the morning to find the bike. Failure was not an option – out in the freezing dark with a kerosene lantern, no shoes – find the bike and get back home. The kids would grumble about the publican’s kids having shoes – their father bought them for them.

The pattern continued – relentless hard work followed by hard drinking, not enough money, frustration, anger, and eventually the abuse escalated to threats and violence directed towards the kids and his wife. One night, when the boys were aged about 10-12, the man’s inner demons could not be quietened and he set about screaming and beating his wife. He punched and pounded her. His temper and the alcohol took away all control and he attempted to push his wife into the open fire. She fought for her life, but the man’s strength and rage pushed her to the flames. The older of the two boys could take it no more and he punched the man in the jaw with all his force. With the surprise and the force of the blow the man went down, the woman was safe. The boy managed to force the bruised man out of the house, and with a rage fuelled by the years of abuse, gave the man a sound beating. The younger brother comforted his mother.

While he had saved his mother, beating his father was not something the boy was proud of. He was humiliated and hurt by his father’s betrayal. It’s impossible to say he grew up that day – he’d been more than an adult for years, caring for his mother and his younger brother. He left the family home and grew in himself. He met a woman; they fell in love, and raised six kids. He remained close to his mother until her death, and remained very close to his brother until his. He had compassion for his father, but he knew the source of the family’s pain and shame. He never drank alcohol claiming he knew all about it already. In spite of, and in part because of, his childhood experiences he was a hard-working, patient, and considerate man. He was a good man.

Manifesto
20. Every day say thank you.
37. Every day fight for what’s worth fighting for. Pick your battles.
48. Every day there are things you can’t change. You can change the way you think about them and deal with them.

Marica decided to make us some pikelets. Warm pikelets, fresh from the pan, are a key to more locks than you might imagine. Pikelet skills were taught early in our family, making animals was an essential. Marcel was coming over in the miserable weather to repatriate his van. I made him a running rabbit to say thank you.

Manifesto
14. Every day the ordinary can be the extraordinary.
20. Every day say thank you.
26. Every day take action. Every small step counts.

Notice we don’t have a name for our car. We call it ‘Car’. Seemed appropriate. Essential. Classic somehow.

Today fueling up I took the opportunity to grab a quick shot – the weird lights in the service station made to colours lurch off – but Car still managed to make the best of the occasion. Thank you Car, we love you Car.

Manifesto
15. Every day make a difference to yourself and others.
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
44. Every day remember how far you have come.

When I arrived on the scene (we’re one of those postmodern re-assembled families) I brought a rich selection of ambiguity. Weirdness. Just downright madness. I think I simply misjudge things. Other guys bring flowers. I brought flowers out of my then home garden. Ginger flowers. They’re beautiful, fragrant, elegant, exotic, living sculptures. And about 1.5 metres (5′) tall. They just don’t fit in teeny delicate little vases, they need something more akin to paint buckets.

The house became full of (huge) flowers and a host of other crazy things. Like the time we converted the entire ground floor of the house we were renting into a fairy dell for the fairy party. With a cave and glow-worms. Meanwhile, although Danica found all this a bit too much, she had to admit often the end results were, at the least, fun. Some even worked out well. We’ve both worked together, and laughed together, and I think we’ve built a pretty wonderful relationship.

Happy birthday, Danica, and very many happy returns of the day.

Manifesto
05. Every day is now. The present moment.
08. Every day choose to bring about change.
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.