What do your children believe they are capable of?

Remember when you were growing up, and you believed you were capable of anything? When the adults, instead of weighing up the odds and deciding that a thing was too expensive, too complicated, or too far out of your reach told you, “Anything is possible!” and you believed it?

Do you still believe it? No? Why not? You didn’t let reality get in the way of your dreams did you? I did. I still do. That’s why I can’t help but wonder – and marvel every day – at my daughter’s faith in herself and her abilities.

Among other things, seven year old Poppy is convinced she can control the weather, the sun, the moon and the stars. She’s not delusional; she just believes she has the power. She believes she can keep the sun up for longer each day the way I once believed I could do just about anything I wanted to in life.

She doesn’t hesitate to call out the stars each evening, or to tell the rain, “We need you today, but go to someone else tomorrow who needs you more because I have a day at the beach planned, okay?”, and she wishes on the first evening star as if her life depended on it. Actually, I still do that too, but do I believe that my wish will come true? It will if I don’t tell anyone what it is I’ve wished for, right? Isn’t that how it works?

Our children believe what we let them believe. They learn what they live. I love this meme, which a friend re-posted on Facebook yesterday. I think it’s my favourite of all time. I’m sure you’ve seen it. Read it again, and don’t speed read, skipping over a few lines in the middle. Instead, try to read it all again line by line. Like you would a Rudyard Kipling poem...

Yesterday, at the end of a fun family photo shoot for The Courier Mail (it’s their story on single child families – the pros and cons – I’ve used the hashtag #onlychildnotlonelychild on Twitter and Instagram) my invincible daughter leaped up to the top of the rock wall in our backyard, raised her arms above her head, looked to the sky and announced she was keeping the sun up for just a little bit longer. The photographer had commented on how perfect the light was and she was determined to hold onto it for another moment. Her sense of entitlement completely innocent, her belief in herself and her ability unfaltering. As far as Poppy is concerned in this and any other moment, there is no reason she could not keep the sun out, holding onto the golden light and the lovely extra few minutes together; a picture perfect family, smiling, laughing, enjoying the warmth of the sun, and of each other.

I’m not sure what it is that puts an end at some stage of childhood to this unflailing self-confidence, but I’d like it to disappear from our world now please, thank you. Our children must grow up believing they can fly, and rule the world, and control the weather, and keep the sun up in the sky. The loss of this self-belief is why we want to, so desperately sometimes, keep believing in the happy endings that Disney and our TV series and our favourite films insist on feeding us. Well, mostly our American and Australian films…our European films end only sometimes happily, and sometimes not so much. There is joy in reality, and it’s up to us to see it, and believe that it’s ours for the taking.

What do your children believe they are capable of? What do you believe YOU are capable of? It shouldn’t be so different, should it? Don’t stop believing.

Meditation/Affirmation: I am confident, and I am capable of anything I prepare my heart for.

I wish (I WISH!) I had footage of Poppy dancing around and singing at the top of her voice the much-loved Glee version of Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing. She’s been singing it for years – it was the favourite song at DE Studios when I taught vocal there – but here’s the original, joyful Glee clip instead. Look how young everybody is! Full of unwavering self-belief because they've never NOT believed anything's possible...

or did they learn somewhere along the way to become exceptional actors? What are your thoughts? Was there a time when you truly believed you were capable of anything? What about now? 

Problogger Training Event at QT Gold Coast - you could be my roomie

So you know I have the other blog - and on that blog, this blog is known as The Other Blog - but just wanted to mention the same thing here, that I'm lookin' for a roommate to share my cool room at QT Gold Coast for the Problogger Training Event September 13th - 14th!

Sam saw my XS Entertainment post yesterday and suggested I put something on RSVP. Right. Not that sort of trip.

(That's not me, by the way. You can tell because I don't do green frocks. Or keep up with such blondeness anymore. Anyway, it's all about celebrity inspired balayage, right?).

I'm looking forward to attending this event because blogger friends and bloggers-who-I-follow-online have raved about it since its inception three years ago. I'm gearing up to absorb as much information as possible, to see where my blogging can take me next.

I’ve been reviewing theatre for three years, and occasionally I write something about something on this blog. When we’re not making theatre we’re supporting it, and I don’t want to stop supporting it (I love it!), but I want us to make more of our own type of theatre. What’s that? For Sam, this means directing and producing, being given free reign over a text or an idea that grabs him. For me, this might mean writing. Wow. See how non-committal I am? (This is driving Sam crazy!). This is because I’m also a teacher, and I can make better money supply teaching than writing at the moment. 

But while I’m teaching I’m not writing. So instead of committing fully to one or the other, I've been staying right here, right in this spot, frozen, not moving, doing what I've always done online and teaching less. I'd love to be teaching more often. Because, you know, income. And routine. 

I want to have my cake and eat it too martini and drink it too! Poolside...

What do you think? Yes, I hear you.

Wouldn’t it be easier if I were happy to stay teaching? YES. Yes, it would be. In so many ways, life would be easier. I envy my teaching friends who’ll never do anything else but teach, and travel in their holidays. I’ve never stayed long enough at one school – or in one system – to earn long service leave, and I can’t even imagine that life.

I want to write – I need to write – but if I were going to write, wouldn’t I be doing it? Yes, I know I’m DOING IT, but the blogs, the way they are, are not what I mean. And that’s why the ProBlogger Training Event IS GOING TO CHANGE MY LIFE. DON'T SAY IT WON'T, SAM.

Something, or someone there will be the thing that helps me get on track and really get writing.

Remember, I HAVE A ROOM AT QT that I’d love to share with you if you’re going to be there anyway. Included in the package, which will cost you $255 for the two nights (that's less than the actual ProBlogger Training Event special price per night!), is our breakfast both mornings and dinner on Saturday night! (You know there are drinks and canapes on the Friday night, don't you?). 

Just DM me on Twitter for details or comment below. It’s a great deal and I’m really nice to holiday/work/live with.

We Got Chickens! Bringing Home Vanilla, Chocolat & Honeycomb

We got chickens! And because we inherited our girls from my sister's friend, we didn't (re)name them Molly, Duffie and Pepper as planned, but kept their original names, Vanilla, Chocolat and Honeycomb. We didn't want to confuse them, or the girl next door, whose name is Molly.

They are very good looking hens - handsome - and they are sisters, about a year old. We expect them to start laying again when it gets a little warmer, and probably continue laying for another year or two. I don't want to think about the other end of the life cycle, and while Sam is opposed at this stage to keeping chickens that don't lay eggs, I'm all for the pet part of the experience for as long as the old girls will hang in there. I'm sure he'll come 'round, despite the fact he is yet to hold one in his arms. (Poppy: "C'mon Dad! Honeycomb is your chicken! You have to hold her!")

It was quite a lengthy process to bring the girls home to their new coop, but we ended up doing it all in one day. As you will have noticed with the one-day no-dig garden process, I like to do things all at once! We have two more garden beds to build next weekend, so we thought we'd timed the introduction of the chickens to the landscape pretty well.

We knew we had to get the girls home from Eumundi by dusk, so they could settle into their new surroundings, which are quite cosy without the extended run we're planning to build around them, but before that, Poppy and I had to find the good feed we'd read about in our Barastoc Chook Book, and add new, dry, sweet hay and pine bark chips to the coop. I'd read about this fancy schmancy Deep Litter Method (DLM) on an American chicken forum, so naturally we had to try it. Everybody I spoke with about it said, "Why don't you just let 'em scratch around in the dirt? THEY'RE CHICKENS." But I wanted my chickens to be cosy after the distress of a move, and I quite liked the sound of not cleaning out the coop every week. In fact, if we did it properly, we might only need to clean out the coop every few months, or once or twice a YEAR. (Sam: "Who'll be cleaning out the coop?")

No doubt looking like the kind of scurrying chooks we were about to acquire, Poppy and I jumped into the car - finally - after two o'clock and took off! We'd been parked in, in our own driveway, after our housewarming party on Saturday night had given a friend a good reason or five not to drive home, and I didn't want to move her car. We'd found other things to do up until two.

Timing was everything! We raced to Kawana, where the big pet shop is. Poppy remembered it, because it's called Best Friends and her pets are always her best friends. Awww. We found the feed there, but the staff didn't know what I was talking about when I asked about Diatomaceous Earth (DE) and said, "Why don't you let them scratch in the dirt? THEY'RE CHICKENS". I glanced at waterers and auto feeders and the like and decided to leave with the feed. We stopped by another pet store on Wises Road, for shell grit, and then Buderim Garden and Landscape Centre for the pine bark chips (no one at the garden centre knew about DE either. I'll have to get it online), put aside two palettes to pick up during the week (note to self: pick up the two palettes we put aside on the weekend), and took off to Eumundi, which is sooo far away when you're in a hurry.

It was almost 4:30pm and we arrived at my sister's place before she did! So we chatted with Mike and Oscar, and met their chickens - four black Australorp beauties - and then the kids ran across the land, as you do when you're a kid and you discover that you're surrounded by open space, and picked a heap of grapefruit, which Poppy carried back to the house in the folds of her dress. Now we need to make marmalade to use them all! It was getting dark and cold when Ana finally got home. She'd got caught chatting, and then there was the matter of catching the chickens! They were so cosy in their box that we thought it best to get them straight home and into their new quarters before dark. IMPOSSIBLE! I'm always very optimistic about getting somewhere on time, and then I never seem to leave soon enough, so it was no surprise to get home just as night was falling. Of course we - and by we I mean I - had to lug the hay bales and the pine bark chips around the back first, and lay it out in the coop. Poppy's job was to talk to the chickens and make sure they stayed for a while longer in their box. This was a job she was happy to take on right up until the point she decided that she wanted to help lay the hay, and then Sam came home, so we put the bag of shellgrit on the box to keep them safe and warm in there for FIVE MORE MINUTES.

Of course it was dark! And only a glimmer from the nearly-full moon, largely obscured by cloud. And I hadn't picked up a chicken for more than ten years or more, so I was determined to just do it, and move them on in there without a fuss or any stress to either party. These girls were bigger than we'd all expected so they were heavier to pick up than I'd imagined, but one by one, in they went, into the sweet straw-smelling roosting box for the night. Sam was impressed with my chicken-picking-up skill set, but it's thanks to Oscar's expert demo back in Eumundi that I could feel so confident about it.

We won't let them out of the coop until tomorrow, Thursday, which means they will have settled for four days before we let them free range and roam about the yard. Supervised visits outside only of course, due to the new vege garden, the pool, the trees and the neighbours. I have to admit I'm a little nervous about their first day out! I'd prefer to have the run built and get them used to the place by degrees but let's just see if they are happy to follow directions and return home to the coop for the night (and not choose to roost in a neighbour's tree!). I know. They're chickens. They'll do whatever they want to. But I've been feeding them treats in the afternoon, which will surely have established a delicious routine they can't resist conforming to. Treats include spaghetti - it's hilarious watching chickens eat spaghetti - and cheese rind, grapes and (popped) popcorn. Of course, if it's super cold I make them porridge in the mornings.

Do you have backyard chickens? What are their favourite treats? Do you spoil them or do you, you know, just let 'em scratch around in the dirt?!

building our organic no-dig vege garden - how we did it in less than 2 hours

Today we built a garden bed! Yes, it was exciting because we've - meaning I've - talked about doing so for a LONG TIME. And now we've - meaning I've - done it! I had some help from the girls, but when they got sick of layering and layering I let them leap into the pool! BRRR!

First of all, we sent Tayla's mum a text message to say you know we don't actually plan much, but today we're building our garden bed, which we've planned, and we'd love Tayla to join us if she had no other plans for the day.

HOT TIP: Invite for a play date, a little friend with good manners and a big smile, who is enthusiastic, joyful, fun and hard-working.

Luckily for Poppy (she was a little concerned about the HARD WORK part of "building" a garden, which I'd mentioned earlier), Tayla was able to join us. After hot chocolates with the local theatrical crew at Your Place Espresso, we raced off to pick up Tayla and get some hay and mulch and stuff from Tracie at Tanawha Hay Shed. She was about to shut up shop (we'd taken our time getting hot chocolates and Tayla), and she was happy to stay and find what we needed for a lot less than we would have parted with if we'd bought everything from Bunnings. This is what we got from Tracie:

• lucerne
• sugar cane mulch
• compost
• clippings 

N.B. The clippings come from the lawn and the floor of the shed, and they may contain bits of the string that tie the bags of stock feed so if you have animals in your yard you are well advised to avoid using the clippings. I was looking for the least expensive way to get my materials together, and in the least amount of time. I expected to make one or two more stops after Tanawha Hay Shed. 

We went for a lovely country drive, through Eudlo and Palmwoods and bought manure from a property with a fancy gate. Clearly, they sell lots of manure. Although it was an honesty system with a sign that instructed us to put $2.50 in the letterbox in exchange for a bag, the bags of manure were on THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WALL. Maybe their business is so good they don't need to trade on Sundays. I respect this notion but WE NEEDED THE MANURE MORE THAN THEY DID. I discovered, while the girls said hello to the horses, that I could reach over the wall and lift two bags over it before I thought my arms would actually drop off, so we left $5 in the letterbox for those. As we were leaving we spotted the kids, three of them, doing the work, shovelling manure into a wheelbarrow. We waved and they didn't wave back. Clearly, manure can't buy happiness.

On the way out of Palmwoods we saw another place selling bags of manure for ONE DOLLAR. So because Poppy likes a bargain, I stopped and picked up two. At once. They were half-full. Like, one dollar's worth. When we got home they were the bags the girls were able to lift and carry from the car to the back yard so well worth the additional gold coin.

So we'd gathered our materials first. That is unusually organised for me. I'm the sort who bakes a flourless chocolate cake not for any reason other than that I open the pantry to see that I HAVE NO FLOUR.

ONE MORE STOP. Everyone was getting hungry. It was well past 1pm. 

HOT TIP: Feed the workers.

We stopped at Bunnings for mushroom compost, seed raising mix and seasol, and I enjoyed for a moment comparing the ridiculous prices of the very same sugar cane mulch and compost! SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FARMERS, PEOPLE! It's the Sunshine Coast! It's all here, if only you are happy to drive more than 5 minutes to get it all from your neighbours! Except for liquid seaweed products, seed raising mix and mushroom compost. Nobody seems to have those. Oh, and molasses. There ain't no honesty boxes for molasses. And you won't find it at Bunnings. In fact, I completely forgot to find it at all, the secret ingredient to the no-dig organic vege garden. 

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW WITHOUT IT?

I guess we'll see. Unless I cave and get some tomorrow. In which case, it's too late to pre-soak the sugar cane mulch and newspaper in the stuff! That baby's gonna' go right over the top, along with another lot of seasol! (Oh yes, there are worms and worm castings to come too. Remember, I'm on a budget!).

HOT TIP: Don't forget to buy your sugar cane mulch from Tanawha Hay Shed for a third of the commercial price, and a lovely chat with Tracie.

I lifted all the bags except the few that were manageable for the girls, and we stopped for lunch. It was 2 o'clock! Poppy's friends are always surprised when I don't bring out sandwiches (we do sandwiches for high tea, tiny cucumber sandwiches). No one is ever disappointed, just surprised. I served big bowls of vege soup with feta cheese crumbled on top, the sort of delicious dish I'm looking forward to making with our own fresh, organic veges, picked straight from the garden; good wholesome farm food! 

We put Tayla to work, soaking the cardboard, which will stop the lawn and the weeds growing, and decompose during the whole process to eventually enrich the soil beneath. Then we layered up, as if we were makin' lasagne, just as Nicola Chatham, the organic no-dig vege garden queen likes to say. The girls thought this was hilarious. HORSE POO LASAGNE. WHO WOULD EAT THAT? HAHAHA. Seven year olds are fun.

HOT TIP: Give the kids gloves and boots. Bare hands and feet shouldn't really be messing about in compost and manure. Make sure they have a lovely shower and a cup of tea after the hard work is done. (A cup of tea served in pretty china is the BEST treat!).

The girls worked together to get the dirty work done! They invited the neighbour over to help and we gave her the hose...

HOT TIP: Give the hose to a known child!

It was fine. It was fun. They laughed and made rainbows, and stomped across the muddy cardboard to "help it sink into the ground to make good earth".

Then we got out THE MANURE. EWWW! But the girls were having so much fun that they didn't realise we were building our garden and that we were nearly done!

HOT TIP: Don't tell the kids "Awesome work, everybody! We're nearly done!"until you're done.

While the girls were in the pool (at whatever sub-zero temperature) this happened...

Ta-da! I finished layering and witnessed the universal light shining down on our little garden, blessing it in abundance and all things wonderful, natural, organic and good! 

HOT TIP: Stop and smell the...compost. Seriously, take time to enjoy for a moment what you've achieved in just under 2 hours without the help of your significant other (who was in Brisbane emceeing the Guinness Book of World Records attempt for the biggest orchestra. And they smashed it!) Phew! Everyone happy!

I've been a bit obsessed for some time now about getting this garden started. It feels good to have begun a more sustainable way of living. It was time. We've been making gradual changes for years, adding in organic food, doing away with products containing palm oil, teaching our child to read and consider what is actually in the food she's eating, cutting out fast food, learning about organic gardening and permaculture, taking notice of what Dad and others are able to grow in the same region, seeking out like-minded people and community garden groups, buying seasonal fruit and veges, planning to grow our own... it's a good start and now the next phase begins. Tomorrow we're digging a pond, looking online for the native shrubs, vines and bushes that will encourage birds, bees and butterflies to the area, and ordering our Aerobin. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I AM ABOUT ORDERING OUR AEROBIN. Actually, I'm still considering constructing a two-compartment or three-compartment compost system out of recycled timber, but I know that will take longer and I'M IMPATIENT DAMNIT! 

I'm pretty happy with this start. I don't like this last photo - I'm trying to ignore the fact that my skin isn't flawless anymore, and more and more lines are appearing AND I often look much more tired than I feel - but I'm posting it anyway because quite often we - meaning I - stop for a selfie that is a selfie for selfie's sake. This moment was actually a glimmer of self-satisfaction at doing this thing myself. (I used to do a lot more by myself. We forget what we're capable of)... With some help from my little friends, of course. Thanks little friends, everybody did an awesome job! We're nearly done! (Come back tomorrow and help me dig the frog pond, yeah?)!

The Art of Forgiveness

I was ready to sit cross-legged for an hour or two. I was ready to feel the aches and pains of extended stillness gradually permeate every part of my body. I was ready to experience any of the symptoms or strange thoughts described by Mary-Lou Stephens in her memoir, Sex, Drugs and Meditation.

Instead, sitting upright in a chair with my feet flat on the floor, I experienced no more than 30 minutes of guided meditation over two separate sessions. That's less than I'm able to do at the gym after a yoga class. I'd failed and it wasn't even my fault! I knew I had to LET GO of my expectations and this feeling of disappointment and JUST BE. I probably shouldn't have expected anything more but the schedule online had looked differently to me. The forty-five minutes that were down for Guided Meditation in fact included teaching and discussion time. First hurdle to inner peace: acceptance. I'd gotten it wrong. Second hurdle to inner peace: forgiveness. It's okay. I'm okay.

I think of the tapping affirmation that I tried once (I try everything once), which went something like

Despite (insert negative thing here) I deeply and completely accept myself.

I tried to make the affirmation work without doing the tapping, which would have looked weird to people who were new to meditation, let alone tapping healing.

Forgiveness, kindness, compassion, and the path to enlightenment have come up so often in my life, particularly during my thirties, that it seemed time to seek extra guidance. I'd picked up a postcard somewhere for a day's meditation course in Tewantin and thought, "I can do this or the blogger meetup in Brisbane...this."

The morning starts slowly, as a Sunday morning should, and appropriately in this case, on my own, after being dropped off at Noosa Marina in Tewantin where there are market stalls starting to come to life and a random gift store offering hot beverages about to open its doors. Sam and Poppy take off to Noosa Arts Theatre, for Sam's West Side Story auditions. He's directing. Poppy is meeting and greeting artists, and offering feedback, whether she is asked for it or not!

I sample a lovely, locally made sugar scrub and essential oil collection ("Just the thing for Mother's Day!") and consider buying a beautifully polished heart-shaped stone (for abundance) from a woman whose little boy is busy rearranging the shiny wares she'd just spent the last ten minutes setting up. The gift store behind her stall opens and I opt for their decadent dark chocolate because the Chai Latte is to be made with powder. I'd forgotten to ask so I'm glad the girl mentions it. It's hard to get good chai. My hot chocolate is served with a chocolate-coated spoon. The chocolate melts and I stir it through the hot milk. Delicious. I sit with it because I can, taking the time to watch the activity around me, observing the sleepy scene still unfolding in a place that I'd never stopped to see before.

With an hour to spare, I take my time to walk across the bridge and over to the river bank, where I sit down and Instagram a house boat, imagining the quiet, contented lives of the inhabitants. I read another chapter of Sex, Drugs and Meditation and then I stroll down Ernest Street, with my yoga mat and wrap, to United Synergies. Nestled in bushland behind a main road, this is the home of a not for profit group that provides services and support to families and communities to help them reach their potential. It's a happy, peaceful place. I'm glad we're able to use this space.

Thirty people turn up, register, make themselves a coffee or a cup of green tea, and settle into the chairs that are set up in the Meeting Room. Wait. Meeting Room? Chairs? I slide my red LOVE yoga mat discreetly under my seat. Oh well.

There is some discussion and a few introductions here and there, but it's clear that everyone has arrived and committed to the day for their own reasons and most, as I am, are content to dwell in their own head space for a bit longer. I stand by the merch table and speed read as many introductions to Tharpa publications as possible, and four delightful children's books in their entirety. I'm tempted to buy these on the spot, especially after the teacher's quick, smiling story, which she tells me between trips to the kitchen, about a nun who produced from her bag, a copy of The Story of Angulimala to read to a group of feuding grown-ups in the car during a long road trip. During the lunch break, to avoid the lure of so much fascinating literature available for purchase, I return to my sunny spot by the river. There is too much to think about and the pile of books beside my bed reached toppling height three weeks ago.

The teachings, shared by Diana Waterhouse from Sydney Kadampa Meditation Centre, and based upon the lessons within Geshe's book, How to Solve Our Human Problems, centre around acceptance leading to forgiveness. By the end of the day I give in and buy the book. The paperback edition is only $20 and it makes me happy to have my own copy. See? It's working! I feel happy! I'm already on the path to enlightenment! We'll deal with the attachment issues another day...

It's as if I've heard these lessons before (perhaps I have, in a previous life, and didn't get them right),  but this was my first introduction in this life, to the teachings of Buddha outside of my own reading. I've made a couple of visits to Chenrezig, but they've been on a Friday, with Mum, who also enjoys the calm of the place, the conversation, and the excellent vegetarian lunch at the Big Love Cafe. We usually keep talking well past the start of the lesson that follows. Last time we were out there, we wandered through the Garden of Enlightenment and Mum said she'd like to end up there, with a memorial stupa of her own. I thought of the worst possible Dad Joke ("Don't be stupa!") and instead of saying it aloud I told her I'd be happy with a membership and coming along every so often to meditate.

If you're interested in meditation and/or Buddhism, but you're not ready to stay silent at a ten-day retreat yet, or attend regular classes at Chenrezig or anywhere else, the one day Mahasiddha Kadampa Meditation Centre course is an excellent introduction to the Dharma, basic breathing meditations, and a whole new group of like-minded people if that's what you need. It's a good deal more commercial than I'd expected, in the sense that it clearly caters for the non-yogis dressed for a day at Noosa Civic. No judgement, just an observation. And interesting to note; the number of people in attendance each month is surely an indication of the viability of the application of the Dharma in contemporary life.

People want to be happy! Even if it takes a few lifetimes!