Cheers to the fricken’ weekend…

So. It doesn’t feel like Sunday night. And I know you are rolling your eyes thinking of course it doesn’t because you don’t have to work tomorrow you ijjit, but bear with me… because it never feels like ‘Sunday night pit of dread’ lately..

My weekends have been exceptionally different of late,  I feel much less ‘stressed’ at the end of them and it has come down to one thing. I know right, one thing… just one. It sounds SO simple, and it really is, simple. All the excuses came up in the world, but at the end of the day, it was… simple.

I was challenged by the lovely Julie, to rename Saturdays. Lyndaldays, as they are now known, are all about me.  And doing things that I want to do, as opposed to things I have to do. Because who can honestly put their hand up and say – as a woman, as a mother (not that I am, but many of you are), as chief househould runners – that we take care of ourselves, and do anything, something because we want to as opposed to because we have to?

I was burning out with all the things that ‘had’ to be done – not that I hated life, or what I was doing, but I was drowning under self imposed deadlines, expectations and generally grabbing and taking back anything I tried to delegate (eeeediot stimpy).

The first Lyndalday, was two weeks ago.. and it was incredibly weird. WEIRD. I had to plan it out:

and even then it only kind of sort of went to plan. By midday my mind was all ‘LYNDAL DO THE WASHING UP!’ ‘LYNDAL YOU MUST DO THIS’ ‘LYNDAAAAAAL’

and I had to consciously tell myself off, and promptly fell asleep on the lounge. Ha.

Since then, it has been most surprising, when you take the weight of ‘must’ off your shoulders, how many things you ‘want’ to actually do – so far, my bathroom is sparkling, my clothes are ironed and organised (some even thrown out!), the food cupboards are in an orderly fashion and my meal planner is done. because I totally wanted to, and got great enjoyment out of doing so.

I still plan some of it – like, running first thing in the day, sitting down to a gourmet breakfast in the quiet of my home, alone, with very loud music on so I can sing at random and no internets. Or going to the farmers markets if they are on, or the library if they aren’t… but mostly, the day takes me where it takes me. And the dirty toilet? It’s not going anywhere. Just like the washing up, or the messy containers, or the hair rats on the carpet. They will get done, in their own time.

It’s easy to forget. This self love, no pressure or expectation thing. And it feels weird, to start with. It’s easy to think that it’s selfish, and such a princess-precious type thing to do. Spoilt.

But then I wonder, if I don’t think I am worthy of this time, how can I expect to power through my week? If I don’t love myself enough to give myself permission to even find a few hours, how can I expect others to know how to help, support, or even love me?

One of my biggest ‘a-ha’ moments this month has been providing people a way to support, connect and encourage me – and being able to do the same in return. You can’t offer people that if you are holding your cards so close to your chest, and are running on auto pilot serving everyone else 24/7.

All I am saying is, it is okay to grab a coffee and a trashy mag and sit for an hour. It is more than okay, to offload the kidlets to someone for a morning and take yourself window shopping, or on a movie date.

Why not?

What’s to lose?

i am an illusion

source: ‘Move. Nourish. Believe’ Lorna Jane Clarkson

I always find it very interesting, almost amusing to the point of annoying that when you are in the decision making stage of change, that no one seems to have much of an opinion. Almost like the grandstands are in that hushed, holding breath moment of ‘ohhh whats going to happen next’ and the minute, almost to the second where you have made your decision, and its concrete in your heart and your mind, the crowd erupts! EVERYONE has an opinion, a reason why what you are doing is wrong, why in their opinion you should have done x, y or z – really anything except what you have done, or are doing.

<and here is where i thank god, the stars and all the grains of sand, for the invention that is twitter, commenting systems on blogs, family and the inner circle – because they have always consistently, been supportive and encouraging every step of the way>

But you know the other sort of people I am talking about, the people that I mean. The haters that hate, because you’re cutting a bit too close to the bone. Because you are a reflection of what they wish to be, and for whatever reason haven’t moved a millimetre to becoming. Because acknowledging that will force them to change and move out of their comfort zones. Because why should you get to splurge on expensive clothes when 90% of the time you budget extremely well, and how dare you start glowing because of all the little changes you have made.

Don’t worry, I don’t recognise me either. This person who craves a banana or boiled egg when they are feeling tired to give them sustained energy over a twirl or packet of smiths crinkle cut plain chips. The person who has only had takeaway for one meal this entire week, and even then it was pasta – not mcdonalds. I don’t know this person who is excited to go home because its sunny and she can’t wait to run. This person who just signed up to the gym to work on strength and stretching. This person who finally understands her body and how it works and how many calories are right for it, and how it responds to the activities it is doing.

What I do know, is that in every step, every cent spent, every hour pored over the latest research, meal plan or information, is that i am loving myself more and choosing which voices will be loudest. Because when I am able to do that, and do that consistently then the more the changes will be suitable, and sustainable.

As Dan said in that movie Half Nelson, ‘When you breathe, you inhale and you exhale, but every single time that you do that you’re a little bit different than the one before. We are always changing.’ Thats right. Always changing. And if loving myself more, means that I’m someone that I have never been before, then so be it.

Because I am well and truly on the way to becoming the best version of me.

Every. Single. Day.

< and part of being the best me, is supporting my peeps in this online community – gorgeous Peggy and her self love soiree, helping me to remember that joy starts with being kind to yourself>

we are all made of stars..

There are a number of blogs that I read regularly. Beautiful, amazing women who make me laugh, think, be better, and cry along with them. Most of them I engage with regularly, some I twit-banter with more than regularly. I am making blog friends, and it is awesome. All sorts of awesome. One blog I read, and realised the other day that I engage in less than normal – i think because at first it scared the bejeesus out of me. As much as Shelley from My Shoebox Life  is an amazing beautiful chick and just all sorts of lovely, i was reading her daily posts on doing the 12 week body transformation.

For me, as an excellent couch potato, the thought of undertaking such a challenge was, um, daunting? Horrifying? I mentally cheered her on, and commented here and there… whereas my mental thoughts were more along the line of ‘oh gawd, good for her, what an awesome chick for getting out there and totally doing it, and rocking it!’ which she was. And then, a few weeks in, I could totally read, and feel the changes that were happening, without Shell even saying as much – Shelley was smashing through those walls, physically and mentally, and sistah was absolutely rocking it.

And my thoughts went from couch-side cheering to thinking of maybe, just maybe I could do that to. Oh Lordy, not the whole thing, just the running thing. Maybe just once a week run out the door thing, thats doable. Super easy… i don’t need to cart my bike anywhere or be scared of death wobbles. I could just chuck on… um… suitable clothing. Which… is not currently in my cupboard. Anywhere.

And as hard as it is for me to purchase things for myself (hello year of the house must save must save must save) sometimes, a little self love goes a long way. See cases in point below:

LOOK HOW CUTE THOSE ARE!!! Who couldn’t run  quick mile in these cute things? Because, as it has been pointed out to me more than once, or twice, or a few million times – a little exercise will do me the freaking world of good. Not to mention those little sunshine rays – of which I overdosed on watching AK play 18 holes of golf on Sunday.

And hello, my and my new fringe will totally, TOTALLY rock these outfits, even when we are red and wheezy and puffy out of breath even running five metres…

And knowing, totally knowing that you aren’t alone… that so many of your friends are finding their motivation and tweeting about it, evenings, early saturdays – helping you in ways they don’t know to realise it isn’t just impossible, its just another journey to cheer each other on with. Thats what life is for right – those cheer girls, and being blessed to be others cheer girl. (which is way better than being someones home girl. I’m pretty sure, anyway.)  I would however, like Australia to answer me why so many of my awesome online friends live in either Melbourne or QLD. Seriously. GrrR.

So this week, self love, is believing that you can do things you never imagined that you could.It is believing that there are amazing stores of potential within me, just waiting, waiting for me to dig deep, polish it up and unleash that excellence.

And, PS, hows this for another awesome link up find

seriously. how much in need are we to stop. collaborate and listen…. and remember how important this is to do for ourselves… LOVE

do it anyway…

source

Fear is a funny thing. Well, not funny per se, perhaps more strange, highly individualised. Ingrained, sometimes like a growth threatening to over take our ‘normal’ and turning us into new different versions of who we used to be. Depending, at times on what we do with these wonderful and complex emotions.

A quick chat in the big room (read six highly different opinionated women) on Friday afternoon withdrew a list of fears as different as we all were: fear of slugs. fear of heights. fear of feeling lonely. fear of death. fear of loss. fear of snakes. fear of being out of control. fear of harm. fear of going to church. fear of politics. fear of confrontation. fear of not being enough. fear of being let down. fear of being a let down. fear of failure. fear of running late.

i know, that where i am at now there are things, and choices that i am unable to do because of fear. and it mostly comes down to not being enough. Why doesn’t my blog have a Facebook page? Why don’t I purchase my own domain name? Why don’t I attend bloggers conferences, ‘force’ my way into lunches, be louder, BE KNOWN! A part of that is because i absolutely don’t want to lose the essence of why i write, and started to document it here in the first place. another is i don’t want to compare or be compared – i guess that is still keeping the main thing, the main thing – not losing the heart and essence of why i do what i do. (like not using a capital ‘i’ this entire post, right?).

one thing that i am learning – is that i am not responsible, i cannot let myself hold myself responsible, for how others feel. i am not saying that i am super-human-bot who is also known as God, or the perfect one. i wish, ha! i can accept that i am an adult, and a human, and a woman at that, and there are times that i need to be responsible, and apologise where i have messed up or hurt someone. i am saying, that everyone is entitled to their opinions and their feelings. and when people interact, then there are surely to be times that everything is not so smooth. am i responsible for the words, the opinions, the actions of others? not at all. i can own my thoughts, reactions and words toward that – but i can’t own anyone else’s.

for me this is super hard. i am a peacemaker, and if i’m not being the peacemaker, then the only way i find peace is when i know the right thing to do to fix it. and sometimes, there is no right. there is no way to fix it.

saturday morning, after two solid weeks of not being enough, for anyone, anyone, feeling terribly isolated and bruised, i absolutely one million percent did not, no way want to get out of bed. and let me tell you, bed was comfortable. sleeping was fanfrickingtastic. the nine episodes of one tree hill season nine was waiting – laptop and charger hand delivered to me in bed. four hours in my back was killing me. it was hot. i was smelly. i had to go to the hairdresser for  haircut for the first time in eighteen months. life, people who love me, don’t let me stay in bed all day when im feeling down. i get to feel down, and keep living life anyway. and in the middle of ‘living life anyway’ my heart begins to feel less bruised – like that light brown yellow colour the bruise goes straight after the black-purple.

so, this i know. when i am wrong, or when i am not enough those that love me, and value me, show me grace, and grace enough to let me work through that and encourage me to be a better me. those that don’t, i don’t really need to listen to so loudly. those that cannot show me grace in that moment, i am able to give space to, for a time.

in the midst of fear, of not being enough, there are always options. and there are always cheerleaders, who will cheer a lot, a lot louder than any of the haters. and they will keep cheering. and checking in. and inviting you to come back. day in, day out.

because they don’t let you become the hermit that you want to be because its easier. they push you to shine, to show the world the amazing, courageous, strong, beautiful woman that you are.

< read more here about the SYL ’12 challenge, and the amazing, courageous, strong, beautiful women taking part! >

The take over, the breaks over…

Hi All,

Mr Adam Killer here, taking over the blog for the day. We are linking up for Thankful Thursday, with Kate so thats what I am writing about…

I have been pestering to write a guest blog for Family of Killers for a while. I thought it would be easy as I always torment Lyndal saying how easy it is…. wrrrrooonnng

Things I am thankful for (laughs) the first one is that we have a semi pro blog writer in Lyndal in the family to make our lives seem remotely interesting.

The second being all the stuff that joe average would speak of. I’m thankful for my family, my life, my friends to keep this a little left of the middle.

One thing I am thankful for is bicycles and motorcycles. I got my first bike at age 4 or 5 it was green and we called it the milo bike (same colour as a milo tin!) With family came support, with bicycles came BMX – you can’t do one without the other. I have travelled all of this great country Australia racing my bicycle. At the time I didn’t realise the sacrifice that our families made. One year, I believe my father telling us that we have spent over $22 000 to race bicycles including family travel and so forth. Now I look back at the blood, sweat and tears that we put into this I am truly thankful.

I am thankful for Lyndal and that she shares my passion for anything two wheel related. Happiness can’t really reflect gratefulness. Gratefulness is something you feel on the inside, I believe it also evolves around understanding and love.

To be grateful is hard to describe, there is a lot more to be thankful for – like the country that I live in. My beloved Australia. To leave my safe haven was hard, but after months and months of planning and coaxing ‘it’s going to be alright’, I am forever thankful to my wonderful lil Lyndal who totally convinced me to take on the other side of the world.

I am thankful for many things, and in my vague listening of this blog stuff, these posts should be kinda to the point and I have realised I could ramble on for hours about the things I am thankful for.

But the one that is most important is my lovely lil Lyndal. The person who is ready to take on the world all 5ft 1in of her. I am thankful to have her in my life and opening me up to the big world that stands at our feet.

Thanks for letting me do a fill in blog – I might just be back.

Thanks for reading…

AK