I had 'the talk' yesterday. I spoke to my immediate work team members and told them of my plans to leave my current role. It had been coming a long time, and lately the realisation that there was no going back flew at me light-speed. It wasn't an easy conversation to have, because I've been at my current job for over five years - I've put my heart, sweat and tears into it, so to raise the white flag - to actually say it aloud was scary and confronting.
What followed my declaration has been varied. From the people that matter, it has been kindness. From others, it has been somewhat disappointing. Now more than ever I feel like I'm walking on eggshells - acutely aware I'm not going anywhere until I find another job.. they know that and I know that. Perhaps my honesty wasn't appreciated. I think the decision I made for myself is now being used against me. It's not all giggles at the moment.
I'm tired of fighting an un-win-able fight, of trying to make my passion matter to anyone other than me. And I'm so utterly gutted that you can give yourself to an organisation for half a decade, and be disappeared into the shadows in the blink of an eye.
Humans keep disappointing me. So I wonder, do I expect too much from life, or am I just hanging around the wrong kind of people?
Showing posts with label milestones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label milestones. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
gift horses
Today is Friday, which is great all on its own, except I have other things to be grateful for.
My niece started walking today - which means she has finally begun on her track to normal childhood milestones; which means one less thing for my anxiety ridden sister to worry about. It means, of course - chaos - because she's going to be a little menace, but for my niece it means freedom, for her, a tiny triumph in a world chock-full-of stumbles and roadblocks. I'm pleased that she has mounted this one successfully.
Yesterday was my sisters birthday, and I was able to spoil her with gifts - which I suspect made her feel, for just a fraction of that day that she was important - and for that small time, her mind was not fogged with worry and doubt.
I had a doctors appointment today. I had to wait nearly an hour to see my smiley GP (who I suspect has more patients... and patience than time) and I got kind of what I expected - plus by utter strange coincidence I ended up sitting next to the aforementioned hot tradie. I couldn't believe it - as if scripted in some midday rom-com movie, all the choices and moments collided right there. Well, there was a little awkward, and no actual talking - but I did learn his name.. and that he breathes really heavy (an asthmatic perhaps?) But it was a surprise I didn't expect and a reminder that you just never know what's around the corner.. or in the GP waiting room.
I also received some mail today - some items I purchased for myself (so kind of like presents - if I forget who paid for them) but also other sparkly, surprising - beautiful things that would make your heart whistle (if it could whistle, healthily... hmm).
Also, the weather was a glorious 34 degrees, as opposed to the scorching 44 we had days earlier - so I was happy to walk in the sun without feeling my skin fry.
All of these things, these little unrelated things, crashed together and made for a day littered with great moments. I guess all we can really hope for in life, is a series of great moments strung together in close succession. Today I wear these moments like a string of pearls. Tomorrow may hold any number of things, but just for now I'll be thankful for my moments, and I will not - I refuse to look that gift horse in the mouth.
And, as a complete side note, a celebration of this hot little biscuit Matt Corby...
My niece started walking today - which means she has finally begun on her track to normal childhood milestones; which means one less thing for my anxiety ridden sister to worry about. It means, of course - chaos - because she's going to be a little menace, but for my niece it means freedom, for her, a tiny triumph in a world chock-full-of stumbles and roadblocks. I'm pleased that she has mounted this one successfully.
Yesterday was my sisters birthday, and I was able to spoil her with gifts - which I suspect made her feel, for just a fraction of that day that she was important - and for that small time, her mind was not fogged with worry and doubt.
I had a doctors appointment today. I had to wait nearly an hour to see my smiley GP (who I suspect has more patients... and patience than time) and I got kind of what I expected - plus by utter strange coincidence I ended up sitting next to the aforementioned hot tradie. I couldn't believe it - as if scripted in some midday rom-com movie, all the choices and moments collided right there. Well, there was a little awkward, and no actual talking - but I did learn his name.. and that he breathes really heavy (an asthmatic perhaps?) But it was a surprise I didn't expect and a reminder that you just never know what's around the corner.. or in the GP waiting room.
I also received some mail today - some items I purchased for myself (so kind of like presents - if I forget who paid for them) but also other sparkly, surprising - beautiful things that would make your heart whistle (if it could whistle, healthily... hmm).
Also, the weather was a glorious 34 degrees, as opposed to the scorching 44 we had days earlier - so I was happy to walk in the sun without feeling my skin fry.
All of these things, these little unrelated things, crashed together and made for a day littered with great moments. I guess all we can really hope for in life, is a series of great moments strung together in close succession. Today I wear these moments like a string of pearls. Tomorrow may hold any number of things, but just for now I'll be thankful for my moments, and I will not - I refuse to look that gift horse in the mouth.
And, as a complete side note, a celebration of this hot little biscuit Matt Corby...
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Crash landing
My feet met solid ground once again early Thursday morning. It was quite a dramatic affair - I'd been quite ill days before my departure, and boarded my hellish 11 hour flight still feeling beaten. Upon arrival, I learned my luggage had been left behind, then I was told I had missed my nieces birth by mere hours. I was incredibly upset - everything had taken its toll. And I still had to face a six hour drive before I was really home. Anyone present in that airport terminal, with the time to watch, would've had a curious set of observations about me.
Emotions have settled now, although all the experiences and the memories I have from my time away are trying to reconcile and find space in my head. I'm still not altogether 'together' - I think perhaps I have 'life-lag'. Maybe I have had this all my life. Getting back, after almost four weeks away has been strange. It is my life, I recognise it, but I'm having trouble fitting into the same space. Or wanting to fit into the same space. Routines aren't so familiar.
It's hard to summarise my trip. Yes, I had a good time - I saw some amazing things; but me, being the thinker than I am, can't help but feel I am walking away with more questions than answers. I guess that's what happens when you go on set tours. We were taken places, and then quickly moved on - for me, it kind of felt like I didn't have time to absorb what I was doing, what I was seeing - I feel like I looked into the window, but I never really went in. Everything became such a blur, markets started to look the same, names and hotels became confused in my mind - as quickly as my suitcase landed in one place, it was being packed and whisked off to another. It is the nature of the beast I suppose.
And people, so many people, everywhere, all the time. I found myself wishing all these fucking tourists would just go away, so I had some room to breathe. I seemed to forget I was one of those tourists, perhaps just not as vicious (I'd like to think).
This trip tested me in many ways, but it did not deliver what I thought. Everyone talks about travelling broadening your horizon - I think, in my case, it magnified that which was already in my sights. I didn't learn the secrets of life, I didn't come away loving or understanding myself better, I didn't learn more about compassion or tolerance, I didn't even get the holiday romance that I'd hoped for! I'm still lost, it's just that now I recognise my surroundings a little better.
I guess, as has been said - sometimes the meaning of life can be found in your own backyard. I learnt that this bird was not made to fly...or sail. I am not a woman of the world...I am a woman of Australia, of the land; of small things, big silences and profound gestures. I realise that I don't want to be where everyone else is, I want to be where my heart leads me - down forgotten tracks and quiet places, with special people...or a special someone.
A slap on my wrist for doing so, but my mind turned to John often; whenever I thought about being somewhere low key with someone who 'got' me, I imagined it was him. Shame on me.
I am glad to be home, and glad to be in my electronic home too - where I feel safe to say what I feel and follow journeys of different kinds.
SB xx
Emotions have settled now, although all the experiences and the memories I have from my time away are trying to reconcile and find space in my head. I'm still not altogether 'together' - I think perhaps I have 'life-lag'. Maybe I have had this all my life. Getting back, after almost four weeks away has been strange. It is my life, I recognise it, but I'm having trouble fitting into the same space. Or wanting to fit into the same space. Routines aren't so familiar.
It's hard to summarise my trip. Yes, I had a good time - I saw some amazing things; but me, being the thinker than I am, can't help but feel I am walking away with more questions than answers. I guess that's what happens when you go on set tours. We were taken places, and then quickly moved on - for me, it kind of felt like I didn't have time to absorb what I was doing, what I was seeing - I feel like I looked into the window, but I never really went in. Everything became such a blur, markets started to look the same, names and hotels became confused in my mind - as quickly as my suitcase landed in one place, it was being packed and whisked off to another. It is the nature of the beast I suppose.
And people, so many people, everywhere, all the time. I found myself wishing all these fucking tourists would just go away, so I had some room to breathe. I seemed to forget I was one of those tourists, perhaps just not as vicious (I'd like to think).
This trip tested me in many ways, but it did not deliver what I thought. Everyone talks about travelling broadening your horizon - I think, in my case, it magnified that which was already in my sights. I didn't learn the secrets of life, I didn't come away loving or understanding myself better, I didn't learn more about compassion or tolerance, I didn't even get the holiday romance that I'd hoped for! I'm still lost, it's just that now I recognise my surroundings a little better.
I guess, as has been said - sometimes the meaning of life can be found in your own backyard. I learnt that this bird was not made to fly...or sail. I am not a woman of the world...I am a woman of Australia, of the land; of small things, big silences and profound gestures. I realise that I don't want to be where everyone else is, I want to be where my heart leads me - down forgotten tracks and quiet places, with special people...or a special someone.
A slap on my wrist for doing so, but my mind turned to John often; whenever I thought about being somewhere low key with someone who 'got' me, I imagined it was him. Shame on me.
I am glad to be home, and glad to be in my electronic home too - where I feel safe to say what I feel and follow journeys of different kinds.
SB xx
Friday, May 27, 2011
inked
I've been reading a book called 'Some Girls' by Jillian Lauren. Admittedly I found it difficult to connect with this story... that is, until the author started talking about her tattoos.
I love a quote in the book that states "the tattoo gods announce themselves to you when it's time". Jillian detailed her growing 'need' to be tattooed - her desire to belong to the secret club; to make a permanent statement. This, I could understand.
It was late 2009 when the tattoo gods seriously inspired me. I always knew that I wanted a tattoo eventually, but I also understood that I needed to be sure about what I was getting, before I did anything.
This is the tattoo that started it all for me.
I know, kind of lame to be inspired by a teeny tatt on the arm of super gorgeous model Tara Moss... but, what can I say, it planted a seed. I started researching, and the more I found, the more I wanted a peacock feather. Peacock feathers are said to be a mark of self acceptance; pride in oneself; belief in ones beauty, strength and resilience; it was everything I wanted to declare to the world, and to myself; it was going to be my reward - something beautiful to come from the turmoil. Before the year was out I had a booking made with a tattooist, I was finally sure.
The appointment I made coincided with a trip to the city and I only had that one day before I had to return home. Unbelievably, I went to a place I'd never sighted before, to an artist I'd only just met, who spoke broken English - it could have gone so wrong, but it didn't (thankfully).
Sometimes when I get down, I have to remind myself why I got my tattoo, why this particular design? It was my secret statement to say I'm proud of who I am... I remember the pain of the three hour sitting, hugging onto that leather pillow, feeling every inch of the scratching and burning - one hell of a way to prove something. If the memories aren't enough, I glance in the mirror as I undress - to seek out my permanent memento; sitting atop my right shoulder, curling it's way to the centre of my back is a brilliantly coloured peacock feather. My feather. My fears, my pain, my relic. As Jillian Lauren writes perfectly "I got my tattoo not to say 'I wuz here', a tag on a freeway overpass, but rather to say 'Here wuz me'. Here they are, the landscapes inscribed behind my eyes... with my tattoos, I serve as witness and documentarian to myself."
I know I'll get another someday, when the time is right - another marking on the map of my life.
here was me
SB xx
I love a quote in the book that states "the tattoo gods announce themselves to you when it's time". Jillian detailed her growing 'need' to be tattooed - her desire to belong to the secret club; to make a permanent statement. This, I could understand.
It was late 2009 when the tattoo gods seriously inspired me. I always knew that I wanted a tattoo eventually, but I also understood that I needed to be sure about what I was getting, before I did anything.
This is the tattoo that started it all for me.
I know, kind of lame to be inspired by a teeny tatt on the arm of super gorgeous model Tara Moss... but, what can I say, it planted a seed. I started researching, and the more I found, the more I wanted a peacock feather. Peacock feathers are said to be a mark of self acceptance; pride in oneself; belief in ones beauty, strength and resilience; it was everything I wanted to declare to the world, and to myself; it was going to be my reward - something beautiful to come from the turmoil. Before the year was out I had a booking made with a tattooist, I was finally sure.
The appointment I made coincided with a trip to the city and I only had that one day before I had to return home. Unbelievably, I went to a place I'd never sighted before, to an artist I'd only just met, who spoke broken English - it could have gone so wrong, but it didn't (thankfully).
Sometimes when I get down, I have to remind myself why I got my tattoo, why this particular design? It was my secret statement to say I'm proud of who I am... I remember the pain of the three hour sitting, hugging onto that leather pillow, feeling every inch of the scratching and burning - one hell of a way to prove something. If the memories aren't enough, I glance in the mirror as I undress - to seek out my permanent memento; sitting atop my right shoulder, curling it's way to the centre of my back is a brilliantly coloured peacock feather. My feather. My fears, my pain, my relic. As Jillian Lauren writes perfectly "I got my tattoo not to say 'I wuz here', a tag on a freeway overpass, but rather to say 'Here wuz me'. Here they are, the landscapes inscribed behind my eyes... with my tattoos, I serve as witness and documentarian to myself."
I know I'll get another someday, when the time is right - another marking on the map of my life.
here was me
SB xx
Friday, April 15, 2011
It's my (metaphorical) party, and I'll cry if I want to
Happy birthday to me! Today marks my 28th year of existence... Ouch, that number is getting big.
I don't really have a lot to say about today. It was a nice day...except for when I was out to lunch with my family and my Mum started complaining of a nasty smell, and my sister cursed the piano player and my nephew was making weird noises that made him seem 'simple' - it was at that point, the room seemed to get a whole lot smaller and I felt like I was in a petri dish of awkward.
The gifts were top notch; nil complaints there. There still seems to be something missing. It could be the nasty taste that facebook bullshit leaves in your mouth. Why didn't they wish me happy birthday - what does it mean; how should I respond; why; I KNOW they are on here. Or, it could've been the phone call from the tight arse friend who currently resides in the UK...you know, the one that effectively left me high and dry on what was supposed to be our joint planned trip to Italy. It was a nice gesture that she called, and honestly, I haven't been a very good friend of late - but even from thousands of kilometres away, she managed to sucker-punch me like the good old days. When talking about my travel sickness issues, she mentioned a friend who is seeking treatment for her "anxiety issues" that stop her from travelling. I thought, 'dude, you know it's my birthday right - you're supposed to be nice to people on the day of their birthday'...and then I just moved to 'bitch, anxiety was never the problem - you brought your fucking airline ticket WITHOUT ME'. Is it me? Am I queer?
Another fail, nothing from John. Not. A. Thing. You would think I'd had my fill of disappointments where he is concerned..seemingly not. Apparently I have a flair for self-torture.
Life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28...
SB xx
I don't really have a lot to say about today. It was a nice day...except for when I was out to lunch with my family and my Mum started complaining of a nasty smell, and my sister cursed the piano player and my nephew was making weird noises that made him seem 'simple' - it was at that point, the room seemed to get a whole lot smaller and I felt like I was in a petri dish of awkward.
The gifts were top notch; nil complaints there. There still seems to be something missing. It could be the nasty taste that facebook bullshit leaves in your mouth. Why didn't they wish me happy birthday - what does it mean; how should I respond; why; I KNOW they are on here. Or, it could've been the phone call from the tight arse friend who currently resides in the UK...you know, the one that effectively left me high and dry on what was supposed to be our joint planned trip to Italy. It was a nice gesture that she called, and honestly, I haven't been a very good friend of late - but even from thousands of kilometres away, she managed to sucker-punch me like the good old days. When talking about my travel sickness issues, she mentioned a friend who is seeking treatment for her "anxiety issues" that stop her from travelling. I thought, 'dude, you know it's my birthday right - you're supposed to be nice to people on the day of their birthday'...and then I just moved to 'bitch, anxiety was never the problem - you brought your fucking airline ticket WITHOUT ME'. Is it me? Am I queer?
Another fail, nothing from John. Not. A. Thing. You would think I'd had my fill of disappointments where he is concerned..seemingly not. Apparently I have a flair for self-torture.
Life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28, life's great at 28...
SB xx
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