Flora Stream of Consciousness

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Different kinds of happiness

I’m an introvert. It took me many years to accept myself as one. I very much embrace it now. I don’t think I’m happy, although I wouldn’t say I’m sad either. It’s like I’m always reaching out for a sliver of happiness, but I can’t seem to grasp it.

I want company, but not too much of it. I love my family and love catching up with them. However I find myself soon wishing they would leave. This usually happens around the three hour mark. I start feeling like I’m in the midst of a hurricane of noise and chaos. I’m desperate to have my peace and solitude back. When I hear someone say it’s time to go I do a mental fist pump with joy.

I’m in a “flow state” when I’m doing one of two things I enjoy. Writing and spending time in nature. I’m so invested in these pursuits that time simply falls away.

I notice the small things. The sound of a bird chirping. The rustling of the wind in the trees. Looking out the window and noticing the shapes of the clouds. Watching them float away. The sound of the rain and the smell it leaves behind. It’s an internal and quite sort of happiness. It’s the little things that matter the most. Take the time to notice them and you will be filled with gratitude.

Bye for now.

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Streams of thought

The kind of day I look forward to is to ease into the day slowly. I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere or do anything. I write a list of things to do called a “Not a must do” list. They are just suggestions. If I do them, fine. If I don’t also fine. I’m a planner, so on these days I plan not to plan.

I dread work days. This feeling of dread creeps up on me the night before. It affects my sleep which in turn affects my work. A vicious cycle. Expectations at work are high. Every minute of time is taken up with tasks. Every work day blends in with the next. I’m being pulled in all directions. I’m not a morning person. I come alive late morning to mid-afternoon (between 11am to 3pm).

I like to add faith, hope and positivity into the world. I see myself as a crone (the three stages of a woman’s life – maiden, mother and crone). I want to share my knowledge and worldly experience with younger women. I want to inspire in a world that needs inspiring.

I admire assertiveness in others. Their ability to speak up for themselves. I missed out on so many opportunities simply because I didn’t speak up when I should have. I wish so much to be assertive, as it’s something I’ve always struggled with.

I believe people are attracted to me because I’m a calm presence. I tend to look on the bright side of life. I am a positive person and optimistic most of the time.

I gravitate towards writing as I’ve written articles for a local community newspaper as a volunteer.

Finally what makes me cry is hearing stories about people who have overcome pain and suffering in their lives. I want so much to reach out to them and relieve them of this.

Bye for now

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Back to nature

“I give myself permission to write, express and create with love and joy.” I come to this with an open heart and a curious mind.

My heart is filled with joy. My mind is curious and alive with possibilities. I go exploring gardens, bursting with colour. Banksias, chrysanthemums, tulips, daisies and Sunflowers. All colours of the spectrum are represented. Everything blossoms and breathes. The bees and I are dancing in sweet intoxication.

Nature to me provides endless inspiration, through its beauty and its power. In nature there are opportunities to get creative and contemplate. For me it’s a source of mental, emotional and spiritual well-being. Nature captivates, dazzles and enchants me in ways I can’t describe. I’m rejuvenated in mind, body and spirit. I admire First Nations peoples’ connection to the land.

Nature lives and breathes just as I do. It has a heartbeat and a soul. I know if I take care of the earth, it will take care of me. It was here long before I was, and will be here long after I’m gone. This deserves respect for Mother Nature and all she does for us.

Photo by Hoang Le on Pexels.com

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My week in isolation

The week had just passed. I was going about my weekend a week ago. Following my usual routines when with one little test everything changed. I’m a stickler for routine. I feel calm and settled as long as everything goes to plan.

After hearing of a colleague who had tested positive to COVID I decided to test myself last Friday. It was negative. I thought nothing more of it. On Saturday I’m feeling tired, lethargic, fatigued. More than usual. I remember feeling nauseous at work on Thursday. I attribute this to low blood pressure or feeling hungry. Now I know nausea is also a symptom of COVID. I may have already contracted on Thursday, yet the test on Friday doesn’t  show it.

I plan to take another test on Sunday morning. I honestly don’t expect it to show a positive result, so when it does I’m a bit shocked. What do I do now? Who do I need to tell? I (who never do) leave the bed undone. Should I still have a shower? Go for a walk and dance? Yes to shower. No to walk and dance. I get myself together. Tell everyone on a “needs to know” basis. I order my shopping to be picked up today and I’m not supposed to go out. Well who else is going to pick it up for me? It has to be me.

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh on Pexels.com

Now I’m going to have to isolate for seven days and be stuck in one room. Actually I have the use of two rooms, besides a bathroom to myself. Mum and Dad have to isolate too. Luckily the house is big enough for us to stay away from each other.

I apply for a special government payment to cover me for the coming week as I won’t be able to work. It’s deposited into my account within a few hours.

I think how am I going to spend the next seven days? The time will drag I just know it. I console myself that I don’t have to work for the week. It feels like my life has been put on hold. No work (don’t miss it!) No going out with my MeetUp groups. I’m not free to move around as I please. I have to stay put.

I contribute an article to a local newspaper. This involves me having to interview a local identity and write up a story. I was due to interview said identity this week, however I had to cancel it. In the space of nine days I’ve tested myself five times. More to put my mother’s mind at ease than my own. As I write this I’m still positive, but the virus is working its way out of my system. By the way Mum and Dad have been tested two times this past week. Both times negative. This is a relief to me.

When I leave my rooms I wear a mask to protect Mum and Dad from me till I get a negative result. I now stop and think that I’m one of the lucky ones. My symptoms are mild. I haven’t suffered whereas others have.

So it took a short time out of my life. So what! I’m still here. I’m at home, not in a hospital hooked up to a ventilator. I will recover and go back to my life as usual. Others weren’t or haven’t been so fortunate. For this I am so grateful.

Blessings to all xx

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Metamorphosis

Today I went for a walk as I often do. The purpose for walking was so I could figure out what to write for this week’s blog. I saw a beautiful gold butterfly with black trim on the outer edge of its wings and black spots on the inner part of the wings.  It stopped on a blade of grass.

Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

It sat there a while flapping its wings so I had time to observe. At this moment I thought write about metamorphosis, because hey that’s what butterflies do. They represent transformation. They mutate from an egg to larva, to pupa and finally to a beautiful butterfly.

”Everyone is like a butterfly, they start out ugly and awkward and then morph into beautiful graceful butterflies that everyone loves.” – Drew Barrymore.

So what is “metamorphosis?” I found this meaning online and I think it describes this process perfectly. “A change of the form or nature of a thing or person into a completely different one.”

Of course a human being can’t morph physically into something else, unless you have a whole lot of surgery which I don’t recommend. LOL. A butterfly’s transformation is obvious, however when we humans transform ourselves it tends to be internal. Not something that is obvious to the naked eye. A butterfly only does this once in its short life. This is where we as humans differ.

“The butterfly said to the sun, “They can’t stop talking about my transformation. I can only do it once in my lifetime. If only they knew, they can do it at any time and in countless ways.” – Dodinsky.

The basic personality doesn’t change.  Well I’m an introvert and once an introvert, always an introvert. I think experiences have changed me in subtle ways. My perceptions change as I go through life. I’ve learned to be resilient as life throws its challenges at me. I think I’ve become more resourceful, independent and have developed the skills I need for survival.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When I was a child and into my teen years I lacked self-confidence. I was very quiet and reserved and rarely if ever spoke my mind. In fact I went through this well into my twenties. I wondered how I could overcome this. The only way was to push myself out of my comfort zone. I started doing dance classes as a way to help me with this.

I think it did help to build confidence within myself. Once I felt comfortable around new people I started to speak up a bit more. Even now meeting new people is nerve wracking for me. Family and friends started to notice this shift. I was still me in essence, but I was changing as I said earlier in subtle ways.

“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.” Franz Kafka.


This was my metamorphosis. My transition into the person I was meant to be and into the person I am today. This is the journey I’m on. Learning lessons on the way. Meeting different people, experiencing all life has to offer.

Blessings to all xx

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Shoulders

At the time I was writing this I was at home recuperating from a shoulder sprain. My right shoulder. Although it’s unpleasant to have, I’m glad this wasn’t on my left. I’m left-handed. I do everything with my left. I’ve been thinking about why this has happened from a spiritual perspective.

 

“There’s really no honor in proving that you can carry the entire load on your own shoulders. And it’s lonely.” Amanda Palmer.

 

The first thing that comes to mind is the saying, “Carrying the weight of the world on one’s shoulders.” Sometimes life feels like that. Worry, doubt, guilt weighs heavily. This is built up over days, weeks, months and years. It can be buried deep in the past, then something in the present triggers it. It can be something someone says, something I’ve read. Even a dream.

 

woman wearing off shoulder blouse

 

“The burdens in our minds is always heavier than the burdens on our shoulders.” Mehmet Murat Ildan.

 

I think I’m over something because it happened so long ago, but maybe I’m not. I bury it and get on with my life. I fool myself that it’s all behind me. What comes to mind as I write this is a relationship. I believe I’m over the person, but not the relationship. What do I mean by that? It’s what I’m left with as in feelings of blame, doubt, guilt and regrets. I’ve put a shield up around my heart, so I can’t get hurt.  Any time anyone shows interest in me, that shield comes back up again.

 

“Sleep with the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you shall give your nightmares fodder on which to feed.” Anthony T. Hincks.

 

It’s been almost seven years since the end of my last relationship. It’s time for me to work through and release these emotions, so I can let go of this shield once and for all. Remove this burden off my shoulders. I can then start to feel safe letting someone in to my heart. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

 

Blessings to all xx

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A short note

This week’s post was about Autumn. Here in Australia it falls between March and May. Next week stay tuned for my post about Winter which is what I’m experiencing right now. Thank you for reading my posts. I enjoy sharing them with you all.

Stay tuned….

Blessings to all xx

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Australia Day

I pay homage to the indigenous peoples of this land. The first Australians. I respectfully acknowledge the traditional owners of the land I live on. The Boon Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation and pay respect to their Elders, past, present and emerging.

CULTURE TO BE RESPECTED

I am proud to say that the Aboriginal people of Australia are one of the oldest continuous cultures in the world. Estimates have been put that they have occupied this land anywhere from 40,000 to 60,000 years. I believe this is a culture that deserves respect.

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    WHERE WE CAME FROM

    It’s Australia Day on January 26th. It’s the day that the first Europeans landed in Australia in 1788. Great Britain had overcrowded prisons at the time and required somewhere to house their criminals. America was out of the question as they had gained independence from the motherland. So ships came on the sixth month journey to the other side of the world to settle this wide brown land.

    We are a democracy. We can vote and have a say in how our country is run. We have flora and fauna that is unique to Australia. We accept those who are different from us. We are a multicultural people with people coming from so many nations to make Australia their home. Following are lyrics to a well-known Australian song that tells the story of how we became the country we are today.

    I AM AUSTRALIAN

    I came from the dream-time
    From the dusty red-soil plains
    I am the ancient heart
    The keeper of the flame
    I stood upon the rocky shores
    I watched the tall ships come
    For forty thousand years I’ve been
    The first Australian.

    I came upon the prison ship
    Bowed down by iron chains
    I bought the land, endured the lash
    And waited for the rains
    I’m a settler, I’m a farmer’s wife
    On a dry and barren run
    A convict, then a free man
    I became Australian.

    I’m the daughter of a digger
    Who sought the mother lode.
    The girl became a woman
    On the long and dusty road.
    I’m a child of the Depression
    I saw the good times come
    I’m a bushie, I’m a battler
    I am Australian.

    We are one, but we are many
    And from all the lands on earth we come
    We’ll share a dream and sing with one voice
    “I am, you are, we are Australian.”

    I’m a teller of stories
    I’m a singer of songs
    I am Albert Namatjira
    And I paint the ghostly gums
    I’m Clancy on his horse
    I’m Ned Kelly on the run
    I’m the one who waltzed Matilda
    I am Australian.

    I’m the hot wind from the desert
    I’m the black soil of the plains
    I’m the mountains and the valleys
    I’m the drought and flooding rains
    I am the rock, I am the sky
    The rivers when they run
    The spirit of this great land
    I am Australian.

    We are one, but we are many
    And from all the lands on earth we come
    We’ll share a dream and sing with one voice
    “I am, you are, we are Australian.”

    We are one, but we are many
    And from all the lands on earth we come
    We’ll share a dream and sing with one voice
    “I am, you are, we are Australian”

    “I am, you are, we are Australian”

    Lyrics by Bruce Woodley and Dobe Newton.

BEING AUSTRALIAN

For me being Australian means being there for those who are doing it tough. We are a courageous nation and we have generosity of spirit. We are strong and resilient. The current bushfire emergency is a great example of how we come together to help each other out in the bad times. Despite personal risk to themselves our firefighters come to the aid of other Australians. We give what we can when we see our fellow Australians suffering.

We have a laidback nature. We don’t take life too seriously. We have a sense of humour that is unique to Australia. We can laugh at ourselves. Even the way we speak English is unique to this part of the world. Many a visitor is perplexed by our Australian slang.

Our true identity is indicative of all that is good in human beings. Thank you to my mother and father for coming to Australia and making a life for my siblings and I to enjoy. I’ve been given so many opportunities and I’m so grateful for this.

Instead of quotes this week I have added poems written by Australians about Australia. Enjoy!

WALTZING MATILDA

Words written in 1895 by Banjo Patterson.

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
He sang as he watched and waited ’til his billy boiled
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me
He sang as he watched and waited ’til his billy boiled,
you’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Down came a jumbuck to drink at the billabong,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,
you’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
you’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me
he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Up rode the squatter, mounted on his thoroughbred,
Up rode the troopers, one, two, three,
With the jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

With the jolly jumbuck you’ve got in your tucker bag?
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, you scoundrel with me.

Up jumped the swagman and sprang into the billabong,
You’ll never catch me alive, said he,
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
you’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me
his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
You’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.
Oh, you’ll come a-Waltzing Matilda, with me.

MY COUNTRY

Dorothea MacKellar wrote this poem in 1908 while she was visiting England and missing her home country. The second stanza is possibly one of the most well- known and recited pieces of poetry in Australian history.

The love of field and coppice
Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies
I know, but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror
The wide brown land for me!

The stark white ring-barked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon,
Green tangle of the brushes
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops,
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When, sick at heart, around us
We see the cattle die
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine
She pays us back threefold.
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze …

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand
though Earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

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Happy Australia Day to all my fellow Australians here and abroad. Blessings to all.