Watch and learn

Today at the park I watched The Bean race headlong down a grassy hill and pulled out my camera to record the inevitable tumble. She cried out for a moment (just in case anyone was listening) and then calmly picked herself up, dusted off her hands, and proceeded to repeat this sequence three more times. As I snapped away, I idly wondered if I was being a bad mother, or if I was, as I hoped, actually doing her good by letting her fall down and hopefully learn a thing or two about running down slopes?

On the right path

Graduation day for my Fearless Flyers course involved a return flight to Melbourne. The flight there was difficult to say the least, and also slightly embarrassing when upon landing the crew invited the rest of the passengers to give our group a round of applause (presumably for not freaking out and causing an incident). After a pretty incredible day visiting the air traffic control centre, the crew training centre, and spending some time in a flight simulator worth tens of millions of dollars, we flew home to enjoy a graduation ceremony of sorts involving champagne and an overwhelming sense of relief. 

Eyes on the prize

As a child and a teen I flew a lot taking overseas holidays with my family and, after my parents separated, visiting my dad in Manila where he had been posted for work. After my first panic attack, flying became extremely difficult for me and my anxiety grew with each and every flight. Over time, it wasn’t just the flight itself that made me anxious but everything to do with flying—airports, thinking about airports, seeing planes in the air or on TV, even thinking about a holiday or packing a suitcase.

Decisions, decisions...

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Elizabeth Stone

I recently read an article about how a baby’s cells transfer to mum during pregnancy, and how they can remain in mums body forever. How a baby literally becomes a part of her. How amazing is that?

There was a time where I couldn’t imagine how a baby would ever fit into our life, but true to the old cliché, from the moment The Bean was born I have struggled to imagine a life without her. Now that we are trying for number two, I have found myself wondering how we will fit another baby into our lives (and our little home). This time around I am approaching the idea of falling pregnant with a lot more excitement and a little less anxiety.*

A place for adventure

When we bought our first home a few years ago we didn’t give much thought to the massive park at the end of the street. It is only now that we have a toddler that we are realising just how big a part it is going to play in our family, and how many childhood memories it will provide for The Bean. It is an amazing, beautifully maintained space.

The park brings a vibrant feel to our neighbourhood that is usually lacking in this sleepy town. Some days it seems it is almost a living thing—when the sky is grey and the park is empty, it appears lonely and bereft. When the sun is shining the park hums with noise and activity and the energy is tangible.

Just three things?

“Be content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realise there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” Lao Tzu

In my darker moments it is easy to focus on things I perceive to be wrong with my life or the world at large. It can be easy to get caught in a downward spiral of regret, resentment and despair.

I once started a ‘gratitude journal’ where I was to write down three things at the end of each day that I was grateful for. My journal lasted exactly one day. It struck me as ridiculous that I should have to sit down and think about three things when there are countless things that I am grateful for each and every day. How could I possibly narrow it down to just three?

Past, present and future

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be” – Lao Tzu

I can’t pinpoint what triggered many of my fears, nor can I provide any rational explanation for them. I can however pinpoint the day that my life took a course that I wasn’t expecting – a life that became riddled with doubt, insecurity and fear.

My first panic attack was dramatic, unexpected, and without an obvious trigger. I was 18 years old, it was the middle of the day, one moment I was driving along the highway and the next I was screeching to a halt on the gravel shoulder having crossed three lanes of traffic.