Rainbow after the rain

I have been seeing a lot of rainbows lately.

It’s made me think of them, their meaning and emergence in our atmosphere, and specifically, the metaphor we can use for them.

I saw a rainbow out our lounge room window just the other morning before dropping off baby girl at school. We were eating breakfast, and amidst the grey skies and falling drops outside, I spied one half of a rainbow, across the water:

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But that wasn’t the first one I saw that week, and it would not be the last. It was only when driving home from school later that day, amidst wispy rain, that we saw one again.

As I explained to baby girl what had to happen in order for there to be a rainbow… something struck me, in my casual explanation.

“There has to be rain, and sunshine,” I told her. “And then a rainbow will appear.”

I was immediately flung deep into my whirlpool of deep thoughts, as I often am, tuned in to my surroundings as I am constantly used to taking mental notes… life as a writer, empath, or both.

There has to be rain, and sunshine, for a rainbow to appear.

Huh. Even life was teaching us lessons.

The proper definition of the rainbow occurrence is something like this:

  • It is a natural spectrum that occurs in the sky after rain falls.
  • As sun shines onto falling rain drops, it causes reflection and refraction.
  • The rain drops act like tiny prisms, bending in the sunlight to be reflected back to us as the band of colours that we see as a rainbow.
  • This is why the rainbow is always directly opposite the sun.

Hmm, I pondered. There has to be the presence of both rain, and sunshine.

And if you were looking at it from a non-geological perspective, not focusing on the fact that the planet needs both rain, and water to replenish and renew, to grow and keep things living…

Well, most people tend to regard rain, in their every day life, as a nuisance. Bad.

And they tend to think of sunshine, as a welcoming smile on their face… Good.

And just like the rainbow to the left of my vision as I drove along in the rain, it dawned on me.

Even Mother Nature says there has to be the presence, of both good, and bad, in order for something beautiful and miraculous to occur.

Because that’s what they were, right? Miracles? Considered a sign of good luck in many cultures, with the pot of gold at the end of it the answer to all of life’s problems…

And so on this last weekend, in amidst grey skies and endlessly rainy days, and coincidentally or not, the Winter solstice, the shortest day of the year where we receive the least amount of sunlight…

We also received rainbows. A sign from Mother Nature, that despite this cold Winter, a respite is coming?

That despite the long and hard days, the hours of sunlight per day will be increasing soon?

That sometimes, bad things have to happen, before we get good things coming to us?

Maybe, the raindrops falling from the sky are the horrible hardships we endure, where we question life and the world and ourselves..

And the sun is our effort and determination to not give up, to keep pressing on, and to see it out no matter what. Our Hope.

And our rainbow, is our reward at the end of it all. Glorious, multi-faceted, a glow that takes over our whole life sky. But we had to go through rain, then sun, to see it through.

So remember… the presence of both good, and bad. In order to see a hue of miracles. 🌈

Think of that next time you’re going through a hard patch… you may just find your pot of gold… but it’s important to keep that sunny disposition, even through the rain.

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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Your passion and your loved ones may not hold hands

Hey writers.

Not ‘aspiring’ writers, or ‘published’ writers, ‘wannabe’ writers or ‘successful’ writers…

Just, writers.

I have something I need to share. It’s important.

No doubt it is something we all, as ‘writers’ of the world, have had to face.

Many will be facing it right now.

And if you haven’t already, you’ll be sure to come across it in your writing life.

At some stage, you would have told some of your loved ones, be it your friends or family, that you wish to write.

You want to write. You do, write.

Even if they have already known it for most of your life, even if it is an assumed thing, writing being your background passion and all… no doubt there will have been a moment where you have said out loud “I am doing this.”

I AM GOING TO TRY MAKE A LIFE OUT OF IT.

You are nervous. You are excited. Hell, maybe even like me, you hold off telling most people out of intense fear of their reaction, and only share your personal news with a total of 10 people over a 5 year period.

And when you share that news with your nearest and dearest…

Excited in the prospect of them being sooo happy in you having discovered your life’s purpose, and have chosen to share something so intimate with them…

Relieved to have released a deep-seeded fear…

What do they do?

NOTHING. You tell them, and –

(crickets chirping).

Yup.

There is something you need to realise on this writing journey. And more widely, something everyone needs to realise as they go through life and discover what it is that drives them crazy-happy with a passionate fury.

It is a thing I myself have had to wrap my head around and come to terms with.

The people you love, may not necessarily love your hobby.

They may actually, not think very much of it.

They won’t hate it. But, it might be something of ‘meh.’

Just, MEH.

This can come across as seriously disappointing, especially for someone like me, who has held off on expressing this hobby and passion of mine, to loved and near and dear ones, for years and years and years simply out of fear.

And then, when the moment came… often I realised, it was a bigger thing for me, than it was for them.

And that is ok.

There may be a whole bevy of reasons why your loved ones and your passion aren’t immediate besties… or for that fact, EVER AFTER besties.

Your loved ones may be really busy.

Your loved ones may not know much about your passion.

Your loved ones may find it suddenly difficult to comprehend your sudden discovery at said-passion, and this in turn may highlight some difficult and unanswerable questions for them… those being, what are their passions? What are they doing in their life?

How are they turning their flame on in the routine of life?

Humans are a fascinating and extremely complex breed, and so you can be assured that all of the possible answers will not even begin to fill the paragraphs of this post.

You will notice I have not mentioned a fairly common reason for lack of excitement at the realisation of your passions… and that is jealousy. I have omitted it because real loved ones will not be jealous. They may exude mixed feelings, because of the sudden need to reflect on their own lives. But they will not be envious. They will not see red simply at your long and topsy-turvy journey to getting to your own pre-determined successful, “I’ve made it” destination.

Jealous people are shit people. They are not your loves ones. Keep them at arms length.

They can go f%*k themselves. You need a strong and supportive circle, so get rid of that crap immediately.

Safe to say, you will realise very quickly and easily, who YOUR circle is.

And as is my case, I’ve realised that my circle don’t necessarily have to start a book club for me.

And why should they? I am the only star in my life… as they are the solo star in theirs.

We all have different shit going on. We need to look humbly around us and realise that.

It’s not personal.

It’s just, LIFE.

Your loved ones and your hobby don’t need to get along. They don’t need to go on long walks together. They don’t need to watch a movie. They don’t need to see each other, scream out in delight and exclaim “it’s been so long since I saw you!” before enveloping one another in a giant hug.

As long as they nod some kind of acknowledgement to each other when they pass… that’s cool.

That’s to be accepted.

Our passion isn’t necessarily anyone else’s. And whether you have held off for 5, 10 or 20 years to tell anyone, it won’t be anymore impressive than if you decided yesterday during brekkie you wanted to be a writer after finding 7 grammatical errors in the local paper.

You need to let go of the idea that your loved ones will be as excited for you, as you are excited for you.

In many cases, this won’t be the fact.

And that’s normal.

We can still love our hobbies…. and we can still love our friends…

But we’ll just make sure we see them on alternating weekends 😉

(Note the below is idealistic, yet highly unrealistic!)

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Photo by Alexis Brown on Unsplash

 

 

What they don’t know

It happens everywhere. It probably happens to you, and it definitely happens to me.

Someone speaks nicely to your face… but when your back is turned, the knives come out.

That is a fairly strong example. So let’s narrow it down a bit, and let’s make it a little less brutal, and a tad more ‘everyday life.’

Let’s say someone says beautiful things in front of you… but then doesn’t hold the swear  mute button long enough when they mention you to others.

And what do you do, if you see this? If YOU are privy to this? Do you tell the betrayed? Do you tell them that their ‘friend’ doesn’t treat them with the same love behind-the-scenes as they do in front of the whole world to read, and see?

I have thought of this scenario a lot. Because I have been in it. I am in it.

On the issue of forgiveness, an issue I have toyed with a lot in my life, I have questioned…

How do you forgive someone who has never said sorry? How do you forgive someone who seems ‘changed’ in front of your face, but reverts to two-face when they talk about so-called ‘loved ones?’

Is it any of my business? I mean, if they were being rude to me, sure, I could most definitely step in and speak up. But when they are airing grievances about another…

What should it matter to me?

The problem is, IT DOES matter to me. Because I am all about integrity.

I don’t think you should suck face with someone who you compete with behind their back. I don’t think you should chase them when you compare your child against theirs. I don’t think you should give them loving names, when the names you use behind their back, are anything but.

How does this differ though, to the things we say inside our heads? In the quiet places where no one but us can hear?

Does it differ? Let’s say we don’t like how a person goes about their life. We don’t like their attitude. We don’t like how they criticise others constantly, yet shrivel into nincompoops when they get one smidgen of retaliation in return.

We think “I don’t like that. I don’t like them as a person anymore.”

We say this in our heads.

And then a brutal person, will say it out loud…

Does this differ?

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Photo by Amadeo Muslimović on Unsplash

Do we have any right speaking the words of another, when privately in our heads we are just the same?

But, there is a difference isn’t there. Between someone who tries to make themselves better than others to another’s detriment, and to those who merely see the fakery and don’t wish to promote it any further.

I may say things in my head, but that’s because, I believe ‘they’ deserve it.

I spent several years wishing to sever ties with someone completely, and then kind of half did it… now I’ve spent the next lot of them wondering if it is at all possible to do, and if I would do it, would I feel good about it?

There is such a thing as a toxic person. One who does no good for you. A judgmental, critical, self-obsessed, domineering and dogmatic person. One who plays the victim, them versus the world, and if you don’t play your cards according to their game, them versus YOU.

At one point, in the present day, if you see this person trying to somewhat make a better life for themselves, do you forgive? Do you forget? Do you move on with your life, with your relationship with them, if they say sorry?

What if they never say sorry? What if they go on with their life pretending nothing ever happened, with no acknowledgment of your past hurts, betrayals, hurtful words, snide comments, rude remarks, put downs, ignorant sneers, harmful actions, and gross gross negligence of your loved ones… what if they were slightly different, but never made proper amends to YOU?

And what about if they were different to you, but continued to speak badly about others…

NOW we are full circle. Now, you get it.

This is where I struggle.

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Photo by CloudVisual on Unsplash

I am ALL for retribution. In particular, my main motto with those who do wrong, are that they need to be held accountable. They need to PAY.

What would the wronged do, if they knew how disparagingly their friends had spoken about them to others? I’ve seen this also in my work life, where one particular two-face smooths everyone over to their face, and then uses all manner of trickery, lies and under-handed tactics to diminish their character to other colleagues.

But then… they suddenly learn. Or so it seems.

Should these wronged people forgive and move on? Can you accept that people can change for the better? Is it better to know, or not know, what people have said or thought about you?

Do you hold onto hating the angry person that used to exist? Or do you give them the benefit of the doubt, and hope that the nice words they say to your face, are mirrored when you walk away?

At what stage do we forgive? Where is the fine line where we say “this person is a relation in time, so I forgive” or “that guy generally includes me in everything at work so I’ll let that mass nasty email he sent about me, slide.”

When do we let go, and when do we just say NO?

And when do we turn our cheeks the other way, and when do we stand up and speak out to help others?

I still have no answers. Please inform me if YOU do ♥

‘Been there, done that’: A stressed Mum speaks up

One of the most frustrating things about being a Mum, is the judgment you face.

It’s bad enough when it is from a non-parent, one who has no idea of the trials and tribulations you go through to get by, day by day.

“Why do they eat that?”

“Why DON’T they eat that?”

“They go to sleep how late?”

“They don’t take any more naps?!”

“She needs to come out of her shell more.”

“She is too boisterous for her own good.”

“She craves attention from adults constantly” (this from baby girl’s kindergarten teacher – she is 3 for God’s sake!)

“She is very energetic!” (from the same teacher – and that is bad, how?)

But when you get judgment from a parent, one who has ‘been there, done that,’ and is well past the tried true and tested toddler stage, well, it’s shit.

Even worse if their critique is aimed not at your child… but at YOU.

“Why are you so stressed?”

It HURTS.

Judgement, from a parent who knows how it’s like, is really upsetting. I often wonder how that parent felt when they were dealing with one, or multiple little people all at the one time, and think of how they would have taken to such life-changing advice, from someone who had almost all but forgotten what it is like.

“Don’t be so upset. Relax.”

Because it is that easy. While you are in the throws, in life’s midst of teaching your child manners, toilet training, speech, not to finger suck, how to play fairly, how to not break things, how to not crack the shits every time things don’t turn out the way she/he wants, I am just meant to turn a blind eye and go

“Oh WTF. Stuff it all. Let me down this tequila.”

I am meant to shirk all parenting responsibilities and duties, and let them be, as they want to be.

And then what happens –

When the finger gets stuck in the door frame

She falls down the stairs

She chokes on a tiny object

She falls into a pool

She runs off into a darkened crowd

She climbs under the DJ table pulling out a cord and electrocuting herself

She ends up in the middle of the Main street

She wanders off on the beach

She goes up to that strange dog

ALL because no one was around. Because I was chilling and letting my hair down and “not stressing, man!”

Who picks up the pieces?

Who is to blame?

Who is judged???

I am. The Mother. The one who gave life, is the one who is given the most crap. Time and time and time and time and time and time and time again.

Look, I get it. The having fun part. It’s not like I’m a stickler for the rules, and I actually enjoy yelling “no!” all the time. I remember what it’s like to party. I remember what it’s like, (though very faintly), to not worry about anyone but ME. I remember how it’s like to wander wherever I like at a whim, whenever it suits, child-friendly areas or not.

I give baby girl plenty of room and choices to make up her own mind and do her own thing. I am not constantly stressing, helicoptering around her and grabbing her hand at every curious impulse of hers. I hang back and watch, but I am also, always, on guard.

You have to be, as a parent. It’s a very fine line of letting her learn and discover, while trying to look out for warning clues of impending trouble.  I mean, why would I carelessly put her in the firing line of trouble, when trouble and toddler are so unanimously tied together, naturally?

But I made a choice, about 4 years ago. I made a choice that in conjunction with Hubbie, we were going to love, cherish and nurture a little human being that was an amazing yet simultaneously super-challenging mix of the two of us.

When she gets hurt, she runs to me. When she needs comfort, she runs to me. Anything wrong that happens – she comes crying, yelling “MA!”Mum picks up the pieces. Mum needs to look after everything. Everyone looks to Mum, when baby girl is crying… no matter what, why, or how.

I don’t need someone who has passed the phase, to be telling me to relax. Turn a blind eye. “Chill a bit.”

I just want those parents to understand, and remember. That is all.

And for all those childless couples thinking that they will do SOOOO much better when they are a parent?

HA!

Loving and hating your friends

I have a friend. Every so often, she does something that confirms to me, her firm place in my life as a true, close, long-standing friend.

She’ll make a loyal gesture. Unexpectedly say or do something kind. Go out of her way to help me.

I have a friend…. Every so often, she does something that confirms to me, her firm place in my life –

As that person who shits me up the wall with her irrelevant, unnecessary competitive comments. She’ll say something judgmental. She has no ability to censor her mouth from bullshit. She tries hard to beat you at life, in general.

The above two friends are the SAME person.

I’m always swaying wildly with the pendulum on this one. I love her. I hate her. I wanna hug her. I wanna strangle her.

After I had baby girl, she actually had a dig at me for using certain pain relief while I WAS IN LABOUR. It is perfectly acceptable pain relief, and yet for her, who had not actually passed a baby from her nether-regions at that point of judgment, went on to say I could have risked my baby.

Fuck off.

She speaks highly of herself to raise her level of awesomeness, even if it means hurting someone else in the process. She doesn’t appear to have the awareness to think, before she speaks, to ask herself if what she is about to say to make herself sound soooo good, is actually going to put down someone else nearby.

Or she just doesn’t care. She is my friend, so I’ll go with ‘she doesn’t think.’

This friend is competitive. She will level whatever it is at your playing field, even if she has the up-front disadvantage, the later start, so that she keeps up with you at all costs… AT ALL COSTS. I mean, life is about winning, isn’t it?

???

However. This friend has been my friend for a LONG time. She has always been there for me, through thick and thin. We may disagree, a LOT, and I hate her competitiveness, and her judgmental nature, but at this stage I think too much has transpired between us to end this thing called friendship.

It doesn’t mean she doesn’t drive me up the wall with rage at times.

I’ve been thinking of something that happened recently. And in regards to her, and generally the way we think as a society. I’ve been wondering why we are so predisposed to hold onto the negative, when we can choose to focus on the real positives of a situation/person/event?

This friend recently helped me out. She willingly offered her assistance to me, where she had to organise something for my sole benefit. Still when I saw her later, she showed so much kindness, happiness, love. Every time something like this happens with her I think ‘wow, maybe we are reconnecting in a mature, adult, post-teen way.’

And then I’ll see her again, and she’s indirectly putting down my child’s inabilities, by praising her own child.

She’ll make remarks like “people don’t do that anymore” when I am in fact doing it.

(Because if she isn’t doing something, that means NO ONE is. I mean, she is EVERYONE, after all).

These incidences, good and bad, have been rotating around in my mind for days. I can’t let go of the negative. It’s driving me a bit insane. I wonder if it’s because the negative happened more recently, and is therefore fresher in my mind than the good. But I’m not too sure on that one. Good HAS happened, and yet the good is not strong enough to outweigh the bad that was said, inferred, suggested… that bloody knowing tone.

As a gratitude gal, I know I should be focusing on the good stuff, but with repeat offenders such as her, I just find it so hard to let go. It’s not like it was anything HUGE. But as it is with straws on the camels back, the littlest of twigs can set you off. And when it comes to things suggested at, especially in reference to your own children… let’s just say the lioness in me roars wildly on that one.

I didn’t say anything about being shitty, I never do… and maybe that’s where the fault lies. Speaking up and actually asking her what she meant, would not only have cleared the air, but would have gotten things off my chest and out of my tumultuous mind. I would feel better, and maybe I’d make her self-aware in the process.

I could have been more upfront, but I wasn’t, because long ago, I used to be VERY upfront and speak my mind more freely. That got me into a bit of trouble, which is why I am so careful now to watch what comes out of my mouth. I’ve learnt the hard way, once something is said, it can NEVER be unsaid.

So maybe this is all me. Maybe this is my battle, trying to learn how to deal with people like her, by learning how to first approach the issue in the first place, knowing how to act and what to say and how to feel. That’s ok, I can deal with constructive criticism, I get that.

Maybe this is all MY thing, and nothing to do with her. My own drama, my own insecurities. Me making too much of little, repetitive, annoying, childish mind games of hers.

I’m not sure. But one thing I do know for sure. Although our negative experiences may be clouding the happy rays of light she has shone my way, there is something stronger than the shitty moments, that beats it all.

The friendship. The loyalty and the history we share… nothing can beat that.

(Although she would try to).

And that’s why I’m back to square one again.

Perspective

19 degrees in Winter… “Ahh nice, bring it on Spring.”

19 degrees in Summer… “What the?! What is this stupid excuse of a season?”

 

Waking up healthy… “Eh, another day.”

Waking up sick… “I can’t wait to feel good again.”

 

Dealing with a whinging baby… “Stop crying! You are so annoying, I can’t handle it!”

A childless woman wanting a baby, watching a whinging baby… “What I would give to hold one of my own…”

 

Going into work… “I hate work.”

Not having a job to go to… “My work wasn’t too bad.”

 

Feeling overwhelmed by food after a banquet sitting… “I couldn’t eat another thing!”

A starving child in a third-world country feeling overwhelmed by the lack of food… “If only I could find a crumb.”

 

These are trivialities, first world-problems, serious problems, and for us privileged, most are perspective.

Getting consumed by the nonsense of everyday life is both easy yet unnecessary, and can be overcome when you ask yourself “Is there worse out there? How bad is this scenario?”

There are many, many serious problems and issues out in the world. But how much easier would it be to deal with those things when we removed the silly nonsense from everyday life, enjoyed more of what’s around us, and appreciated what we have?

Showing gratitude for simple things every day, is a very easy way to turn your perspective around, and bring more joy, more happiness, more abundance, and generally more of what you want, into your life EVERY DAY. I know this, because earlier this year I started my own online gratitude journey… inspired by a car crash.

If you would like to check it out, or find some inspiration for your own journey, or you just want to see how I can possibly be grateful that I went back to work after time off (my most recent post), you can click here.

If you are reading this, that means you have survived every single bad thing that has ever happened in your life. Wow, are you a superhero?!

Remember, SMILE. It’s all good 🙂

Coffee vs. Tea…

My boss made the most brilliant comment regarding these two caffeinated beverages.

So a while ago I’m at work, about to head off on my usual, post 9:30am coffee walk with colleagues. I ask her if she wants us to get her a coffee – she stops and pauses, and after some to-ing and fro-ing in her mind, she makes it up.

“No, I think I’ll have some tea.”

Fair enough, I respond to her. I can’t contest – after all, it was only some years ago that I never drank coffee, like NEVER, and only drank tea. Blacks, whites, herbals… as long as this letter was in it  – T – I happily tried them all.

We start talking about how sometimes, you just need a tea. Coffee is great, sure, hell yeah… but there are some Sunday mornings where I wake up groggy from a big night, and immediately think ‘tea.’ I need the hot quench of the liquid to satisfy my dry throat. Coffee can be too milky and often not hot enough, and I’m not going into the business of burning my beans or milk just to get the coffee hotter. No, I repeat to them. Sometimes you need tea, and only tea can touch your soul.

You know that first sip? Ahh. I wrote about it in-depth in my review on a magical little Tea house in Carlton North called Travelling Samovar. That first sip can literally, send chills through your body.

And then the clincher. All this talk, and boss comes out with an almost perfect caffeine-to-life comparison.

“Tea is like love… and coffee is like sex.”

We all pause, wanting to say something, cheeky grins on our faces, yet not sure if opening our mouths at this point will exact to a good idea.

“Well yes,” I begin. “They’re both important.”

I almost said more, but stopped myself. Enough. Enough had been said, and enough of a picture was made in our heads as we headed off to our sex/I mean coffee walk.

You can’t deny the soul-touching elements of tea. But coffee is extremely vital. Every so often/ 3 times a week you just need to knock one back and feel the buzz rush through your body.

I think the argument should be that there isn’t a caffeinated beverage that’s better than the other. Tea and coffee are both important for so many reasons, and without each other, the other becomes bland, and empty. Monotonous. Incomplete.

You need balance.

I think this is the perfect metaphor 🙂

 

 

 

Cancelling Plans

You’re either a person who cancels, or a person who commits and comes through with your pre-spoken words… right? Well, that’s how I saw it for a LONG time. People who cancelled plans, cancelled appointments, made last-minute changes, and didn’t come through on what they had promised were all part of one big category for me – the unreliable and scatterbrained ones were the ‘cancellers.’

It was awfully inefficient to cancel on someone. I didn’t really notice how much it bugged me, but every so often when a fellow friend would say “sorry, my kid is sick,” or a meeting was stuffed up on the other end, or someone arrived at my house an hour past the expected time while I twiddled my thumbs staring at the clock, it kind of grated on my nerves. I mean, I was a Mum. I had a child. I worked, I kept the house (somewhat) clean and in a state of organised mess. I cooked. I saw my parents. I wrote as much as I damn well could. I shopped a fair bit, with caffeine inserted in the blank spaces in-between. So if I could get my shit together and not cancel on someone, and always come through on what I had promised somebody, well what was their excuse?

I wouldn’t get upset or anything. You know the normal “no, that’s ok!” response you do when someone is profusely apologising to you, smiling through your teeth. That’s ok, I love my plans being turned upside down. Mums LOVE unpredictability, it reminds them of how fun it is to have a toddler. (No really, I’m being sarcastic). I’d move on, a bit peeved, but I’d move on. I was not a canceller. I was efficient, and despite some of the hardest of times, I tried my damn-dest to succeed at following through on my plans. You know that quote from Jerry Maguire, where the father of the sports kid that Jerry is chasing to represent, says to Jerry “My word is stronger than oak!” (Before completely doing a 180 on him in a following scene and proving that his word was actually more flimsy like tissue paper). Well that was me. My word was oak. Strong and solid, like the first scene, not the second.

Cancelling isn’t only annoying when plans don’t go ahead… it’s an inconvenience. I am so busy, and not only that, I’m in a regular routine especially with a toddler in tow who also depends heavily on it, that it takes much effort and faith to just schedule time in for someone, and then to have that person go ahead and make other plans last second. Even if they are sick, a little part of me is thinking ‘hypochondriac… toughen up.’

A little while back, (not my last cold but a previous cold) all of a sudden, out of the blue, I got sick. Not runny nose, sore throat, sneezing like Snow White’s dwarf sick. I woke up and vomited. And then vomited. And vomited. And not much was being kept down. I had camomile tea, I had black coffee, and I had plain bread. And I still vomited. It was like the deepest depths of my stomach were being unearthed to unseen archaeologists digging away at it, throwing up bits of food as they went.

And what happened? I became the ‘canceller.’

I hated it. I called one person to cancel an appointment I’d had for baby girl. It was literally an hour before I had to go, and I cancelled on her, practically last second. Then the following day, when I was still getting over my stomach heaving, and getting used to that constant feeling of intense nausea, I had a friend message me:

“Still good for lunch today?”

Crap. We were meant to be meeting for lunch at work, and here I was at home, feeling sorry for myself on the couch.

Toughen up, hypochondriac.

Oh God, not another one. With remorse I messaged her back telling her I was sick and was actually at home. She replied this:

“Oh sweetheart. That’s terrible. Hope you feel better soon.”

She went on to say what other days suited her for a lunch date, but those first few lines stayed in my head. What she had written had shocked me. They shocked me, because I had felt them to be genuine. For all I know she could have been doing the typical “oh no! That’s ok!” line I used to do, but I didn’t believe it to be so. This felt real, and all I remember thinking is ‘She cares about me, more than our plans.’

That realisation really hit me. I had been so concerned about life and things running to schedule, that I’d forgotten that life often throws us things and puts us off track. It can sometimes take a while to jump back on. But with the help and support of loved ones, it’s often done faster than if you have people jeering you from the sidelines calling you a hypochondriac. I was also touched by how Hubbie took over and did everything for baby girl and I in those days that I was incapacitated. Hypochondriac, I know. But I’m always doing EVERYTHING, so for me to just lie there and whisper repeatedly “I can’t,” he knew something serious was up. He came through for us all and had me saying “thank you” like a very broken record.

I had a great opportunity to test my new found realisation of ‘shit happens, people matter more than plans’ discovery very soon after. The following night, Hubbie grew increasingly ill and took to the couch complaining of nausea, 3 hours before we were meant to go out for my bestie’s birthday. He had caught what I’d had.

Now the old me, would have been a little shitty. The old me would have been like ‘are you sure you’re sick? Come on, put on this shirt.’ The old me would have been upset at the sight of Hubbie lying on the couch while I imagined all my friends together at a rooftop bar. The old me would have been, slightly resentful, just at the situation, and how shit the timing was.

Bu I’d had a few days to think. Going through my head were these thoughts:

1. Remember, people are more important than plans.

2. Hubbie looked after me days ago.

3. He’s only sick because he caught what I had.

I was soon running off to the pharmacy for late night medications and messaging bestie a ‘sorry’ message on the way.

Being sick had taught me many things.

We’re all human.

Shit happens.

People are more important.

Don’t lose sight of that.

I used to fight against reality, pretend to be superhuman, and get upset when other people didn’t try to be a superhero too. But, we aren’t in an episode of Angel (unfortunately). I can’t stay up fighting demons all night and then expect to be cheery the next day and ready to tackle my Mum duties with a hop, skip and a jump.

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t become a ‘canceller’ over this, and I will be slightly wary whenever anyone changes plans on me… but I will be softer about it, and when I say “no, that’s ok,” I might just half mean it.