Posts tagged #feel

Manifesting Your Reality

"If I dream hard enough, it will be..."

"If I dream hard enough, it will be..."

Over the last week I have lost a few things…a job opportunity, a chicken and, on more than one occasion, my mind.

Here’s what became of the job and the chook…

I woke up Friday morning to find Lovey Loveheart missing.  Upon further investigation my son found a pile of feathers, but no sign of an entry or exit from the coop.  It was a mystery.  A gut-wrenching, horrible, awful mystery.  After a lot of hopeful searching, I reluctantly proceeded to try and explain to my boys that Lovey Loveheart had likely been taken by a fox and would not be returning.  You can imagine the emotional rollercoaster ride that proceeded.  I’ve been in a bit of a funk ever since. 

Compounding the funk is the sense of uncertainty I’ve been feeling of late, as I wait to hear the outcome of my job application at work and my interview with Brownes.  I’ve been stuck in the waiting cycle; now adding to that is the wait for little Lovey to miraculously reappear. 

Yesterday, I got a call from Brownes.  I didn’t win the blogger ‘competition’; I came a very close second.

I hung up the phone and for a small moment, my mind was completely blank.  A peaceful, quiet, knowing space.  It felt good.  Then I began to feel my body’s reaction…hang on, is that relief I’m feeling?  Relief, closely followed by excitement?  Now my brain kicks into gear and the thoughts start flying from every direction.  What just happened?  They just told me I didn’t ‘win’, so how come I feel like I did?

What they also said was this: “We’d like to know if you’d be interested in guest blogging for us?”

So here’s the thing…I really wanted this gig.  It would be fantastic experience with a great WA company and it would be paid work. I could actually put that on my CV.  How cool would that be?  But there was a part of me that was concerned that they wouldn’t think I had capacity to fulfil the role given my fulltime job as a Project Manager.  I KNOW I could do it – I have great time management ability, particularly when I’m passionate about something, but going into the interview this was in the back on my mind the whole time. 


  • It’s about understanding that your thoughts and your perceptions guide the ultimate creation of your experience. 
  • It’s not about getting everything you set your mind to. It’s about seeing the opportunity in everything your mind brings forward into reality. 
  • What we focus on expands.  Thoughts need fuel to evolve into things/situations/experiences.  This fuel is the energy we drive into them. 
  • The nature of our energy will influence the nature of our change.  For example if the energy holds a low vibration (such as negative thoughts, phases, notions) then the outcome will likely be reflective of that energy; the ‘bad thing’ will eventuate or you won’t get the ‘good thing’ you had your heart set on.
  • It’s about acknowledging the power of words and their ability to redefine our world.  Words, like everything else, carry vibration.  We want to be using words that carry high vibrational energy, like ‘gratitude’, ‘love’, ‘abundance’.  We want our internal thoughts to reflect the same vibration.  It’s about reshaping our language (both internal and external) to reshape our reality.   
  • We truly can redefine, recreate and re-scope our reality just by slight shifts in our perception along the way.

So yesterday I realised it was about reshaping my perception of what it means to win.  Moreover, to question whether the value placed on winning is in fact completely wasted energy?  Perhaps it is more important to identify the lessons, opportunities and good fortunes that come purely from the experience of the journey.

I also learnt first-hand the impact that thoughts can have on our reality.  I was so focused on my capacity (or perceived incapacity) to fulfil the role.  Thankfully the focus I put into it was actually still positive energy.  I visualised myself in the role, I felt the excitement and the gratitude for being in the role, I focused my energy on my ability to fulfil whatever the role entailed.  However, there was doubt there about the impact being chosen for the role may have on other aspects of my life.  I am sure that influenced the outcome. 

Fortunately what I in turn managed to do was manifest a reality that suits me perfectly.  I wasn't selected for the advertised role, but instead they CREATED a second job just for me that perfectly aligns with where I am and where I’m headed.  I get to blog for Brownes, and I get to blog about one of the things I'm most passionate about - WELLBEING. 

I trust the universe and I trust that I am exactly where I need to be right now, and I’m grateful for the opportunities I’m presented with.  I believe this way of thinking is key to unlocking the life I dream and imagine myself in, and I hope that I’ve given you some food for thought, or a fresh perspective to ponder...


Well my five year old woke every morning for the past 5 days to tell me that he’d dreamt about Lovey Loveheart and that he really misses her and wishes she could come back.

Last night we looked up to see Lovey Loveheart (AKA Rambo) hobbling down our driveway, with a bung leg but otherwise completely unharmed after 5 days in the wild.  This is further proof, my friends, that if you want something badly enough you really can shift your reality…even to a place where chickens can return from the dead.

Inner Child

"How could you ignore me?"

"How could you ignore me?"

“Why did you leave me?”

During a sound healing meditation this weekend we called upon our inner child to deliver us a message. This was mine.

A wave of emotion built up inside me and spilled out of the corners of my closed eyes. My mind exploded with a montage of memories…faces, moments, feelings…then they faded, and everything went still as the weight on those five words settled in my heart.

“Why did you leave me?”

This phrase carries a multitude of meanings for me - from abandonment to trust, to fear to loneliness, to a sense of growing up too fast. But most importantly, it brings to the forefront the knowing that I have stifled and oppressed my inner child for too long.

This is how I’ve always dealt with the tough things in life. I pile a whole lot of good stuff on top of the bad stuff and it disappears. I push it down until I can’t see it or feel it anymore. I shove it into the back of the cupboard and cover it over with a big old coat that I’ll never wear again. I separate, I disconnect…I leave it behind.

Somehow in this process I left my inner child behind. She sits in the corner of my mind with her knees to her chin and her long hair falling over her face. She’s barefoot and looks a little hungry. She wears a white dress, long sleeves, a little like a nightie. Her eyes are big, blue, shiny. You can’t see her very well with all the stuff around her; the light can’t get in. There are boxes and books and piles of photographs. And lists, lists, lists. There are clothes on racks and a record player – dusty. A home movie playing over and over on a screen in the background. It would be easy to miss her, to forget her…to leave her behind.

Somewhere along the way, I did just that.

Our inner child is both a subconscious reflection of our emotional experiences from childhood, and the aspect of ourselves that is fun, innocent, creative and straight-shooting. You can get a good sense of your inner child (as it relates to the emotional stuff) if you look at what your triggers are and how you react when your buttons are pressed. Often in these circumstances our behaviour and its intensity is disproportionate to the action or event. We yell, we cry, we slam doors, we sulk - we overreact. To the onlooker we look exactly like the child that is driving us from within.

How I perceive today will never ever be the same as how you perceive today (even if you were sitting alongside me the entire 24hrs). How I perceive and recall events, how I interpret them and how I react to them is based on accumulated emotional experiences and associated reactions. These reactions have become preprogramed to form the inner child I now carry with me today. If you don’t take the time to nurture, acknowledge and heal your inner child, and allow them to grow and integrate with your adult self, your ability to love fully, live openly, and interact meaningfully with others is limited.

In the process of pushing aside the hurts and traumas of my inner child I have, for a very long time ignored the creative, fun, innocent and open aspects of her also. This is something I have been working on reconnecting with since the evolution of Mama Pyjama. I’ve been doing a good job of that – encouraging us all to get in touch with the playful child within us, to live in the ‘now’, to embrace all the wonderful opportunities we are presented with as parents to really let go, relax and be a kid again. But what I am realising now is that this cannot be done in isolation.

 It’s all very well to embrace the carefree aspect of our inner child…but we can’t just ignore the hurts and the traumas.

I need to look inwards and draw my inner child out of the dark corner of my mind to nurture her, heal her and to seek forgiveness.  I encourage you all to do the same. It’s a work in progress, but I know that in doing so I will eventually be able to integrate all the aspects of myself which will allow me to fully be me – no inhibitions, more meaningful relationships, and less anxiety!

Change Your Words...Change Your World

"Will your words colour or stain?"

"Will your words colour or stain?"

When I was in year 2 my best friend’s name was Prathanna and he was the best colour-inner I’d ever met.  He’d colour the trees pink and orange and blue, and the sky purple, and the flowers green.  He’d fill in the white spaces with solid, vivid colours that danced on the page and made my imagination run wild. 

In later years I felt compelled to replicate his style in primary school art class.  Only to be shot down by the art ‘teacher’ with the words, “too child-like, too undeveloped; demonstrates no understanding of colour”.  Some memories cut deep.  At 11 years old I was taught that self-expression was an action open to judgement, and as such should be carefully monitored. 

The time was not long following my parent’s divorce.  I was at a new school.   I’d just started getting my period.  My whole world felt new and overwhelming. 

My mum had bought a new house and for the first time in our lives we were allowed to paint our rooms any colour we liked.  Colour began to represent a big part of my self-expression.  Colour was redefining who I was and where our lives were headed.  Colour made me feel happy.  Colour (and my choice and use of it) made me feel unique.  I was also bridging the gap between childhood and adulthood…is there any wonder I was reaching out to my innocence, grasping to keep hold of times passed?

Fortunately, my achiever personality usually means I come out swinging in response to statements like these.  I would go on to be awarded top student in my graduating year for TEE Art, and I’d make coloured stockings my signature addition to the school uniform.  Nonetheless, his words still impacted me (evidenced by the fact that I remember them so clearly 24 years on).  Albeit subtly, words and statements of this nature heard and felt from many people in my life, have moulded together to form internal blocks around self-expression.  Created so easily by a cumulation of seemingly insignificant phrases, yet they take years of dedicated focus and work to breakdown and unravel. 

If only my teacher had realised the impact that one disjointed sentence would have on me.  I know he would have forgotten his words no sooner had they rolled off his tongue. He wasn’t a bad person, not at all, he just didn’t take the time to stop, to think and to consider before he spoke. 

We are fragile beings.  It takes very little to divert our course in life.  My husband still talks about the teacher in primary school who told him he talked too much.  My mum, the teacher that made her stand up and read out loud in class because she had trouble pronouncing some words.

Nobody is perfect.  We will say the wrong thing at the wrong time on countless occasions throughout the duration of our lives.  But perhaps by being more aware of the impact our words can have on others, we can reduce the number of these incidences in our life time.

It’s about understanding the part you play in the lives of others.  It’s about kindness.  It’s about compassion.  It’s about really taking the time to stop and simply listen.  It’s about giving people the benefit of the doubt.  It's about asking yourself whether your words will colour or stain the souls of others. 

It’s about knowing the ripple effect our words can have.  It’s about giving careful consideration to the words before letting them roll of your tongue.  “Is it spoken at the right time? Is it spoken in truth? Is it spoken affectionately? Is it spoken beneficially? Is it spoken with a mind of good-will?” *  By giving consideration to these five questions, the flow of energy  your words will carry will be positive and empowering to all those who hear and feel them.  

 *Statement recorded in the Vaca Sutta ( AN 5.198) slightly reworded for purpose of blog.

All Grown Up

All Grown Up Mama Pyjama

I’m pretty sure it was just yesterday that I was sitting on a school bench, giggling with my friends about what we were going to be when we grew up.  We talked about how old we’d be when we got married, how many kids we planned to have, all the things we were going to do when we were ‘free’ from the shackles of youth.  It all seems like a lifetime away.  Thirty seemed so old, and the thoughts of us being parents and career women, wives and homeowners, were like alien concepts – far far away in a land we were yet to discover. 

All of a sudden, we’re 34, married, with kids, careers and mortgages.  Yet when we get together we still look at each other, often erupting into a fit of giggles as we look to see our kids playing together on the floor.  We can’t be that OOOOLLD yet!  Whose children are they?! They couldn’t possibly all be ours?!

There are also times when we question our capability and readiness as parents.  We’re 34, and we’re still finding our way.  We’re still growing, we’re still learning, we’re still calling upon our mums and dads for help.  Sometimes it feels like we’re playing dress-ups.  We’ve sometimes wondered if we’ll ever have it ‘all together’ in the way we envisioned all those years ago. 

It’s a strange awakening when you realise that your parents would have felt the same way.  When you acknowledge that you never stop needing to learn.  You never stop growing.  When you realise that there’s really no such thing as ‘grown up’…unless of course by ‘grown up’ we actually mean ‘passed on’.  When you look at it that way, it changes your perspective.  If we’re not growing...we’re dying. 

It’s a lot of pressure hearing a little person call you “Mum” (or “Dad”).  It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed sometimes…especially on those days where you feel like you’re just dressed up, playing house, flying blind.   But it’s ok.  We’re not alone.  Millions of parents before us have felt the same way.  You pick yourself up and you keep fakin’ it ‘til you make it.  Our children will still view us as we viewed our parents.  As old, as wise, as safe, as stable and as home.

We need to remind ourselves that if we’re not learning, we’re not living.  If we were as ‘old’ and ‘together’ as our 11 year old self envisioned we’d be, we’d be boring as bat poo.  There’s colour in our flaws and depth in our weaknesses. This is the light and shade that people always speak of.  This is what makes us human, this is what makes us want to keep on living.  This is what makes us ‘real’, ‘normal’, functioning and approachable people. 

So I’m 34, I’m a wife, I’m a mother, I’m a career woman, I’m a homeowner…but I’m not grown up.  I’m growing.  With every day that passes I do become a little wiser (and a little wrinklier), I gain a little more experience, and I develop a greater understanding of life in general.  But there’s always room for more.  I don’t intend on having it ‘all together’ or being all ‘grown up’ for quite a number of decades yet!


"Eyes of the hurricane"

"Eyes of the hurricane"

I remember how the walls closed in on me, yet staying within them felt so much safer than venturing out with my first born.  He was what you might call a ‘challenging’ infant.  Aside from the colic and reflux causing him to be extremely unsettled, from day one he was fiercely independent, extremely strong and very, very determined.  Strangely it was these very traits that made me feel both insanely proud, yet like an outcast in every social environment that I entered.

My husband has great pride in retelling the story of how our son lifted and turned his head at one day old to follow my voice and movement as a walked across the other side of the room.  He has always had a strength that defies his age – I lost count of the amount of times his daycare providers (at 9 months of age) would exclaim how he’d “give the world’s strongest toddler a run for his money”, or how they’d “never seen a child so fearless”.  Our son was the type of child that literally scaled the bars of his cot at 18 months old to venture down a flight of stairs, over two safety gates and into the kitchen to set about making himself eggs for breakfast.

The flipside to all this ‘impressiveness’ was that at only 10 months old he was running through playgrounds, attempting obstacles way too advanced for his age or size, and engaging with other children assuming that they were as strong, as fearless and as ‘rough and tumble’ as he was.   So often I found myself leaving playgrounds under the judgemental stares of new mothers, trying to explain to them that my child wasn’t trying to rugby tackle their darling, he was simply trying to hug them.  Unfortunately my boy’s ‘hugs’ could knock over a grown man.

I’d take him to friends’ houses and as an infant and up to the age of about 10 months, he’d be like a snow storm of spew and tears.  If he wasn’t throwing up on their brand new rug, he was crying hysterically ("0-100" we used to call him - there was no in between.  He didn’t just whinge, he’d go from quiet to full blown hysterics in a matter of seconds).  Once the spewing subsided, I had a 10 month old ‘runner’.  He’d go into houses like a hurricane in fast forward, climbing shelves, pulling out everything in sight…just grabbing, grabbing, grabbing.

So here’s the thing.  By 10 months old he was completely mobile, yet unaware of his own strength .  He was fiercely independent so wasn’t scared of new environments or even remotely phased whether I was within arm’s reach or not.  He was less than a year old and therefore had no real cognitive understanding of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.  Yet everywhere I went, I felt judgement.  Self-imposed or not, the feeling was still very real to me.  It was like I was somehow failing as a parent because I hadn’t ‘disciplined’ my child appropriately.  I felt like I had lost control of my life.  I got so overwhelmed that it started being easier just to stay at home and battle through it alone.  Even having friends over became too much as I was worried that the kids wouldn’t get along or that one of them would accidentally get  hurt.

I think I can honestly say that there was not a single time in that first 2-2.5 years where I was able to enjoy a cup of tea with a friend as my child sat quietly on the floor and played with toys, or chatted casually with other mothers in the park as my child explored.  I was in a constant state of high alert, always chasing, always poised ready to catch, chanting ‘be gentle, be gentle’, ‘slow down, slow down’.  Ready to diffuse situations - anticipating the next disaster zone.

I became like a prisoner in my own home feeling that nobody else understood what I was going through.  Being told to “just get out of the house for a while” I wanted to scream at them, “don’t you understand what it’s like??  I CAN’T take him out.  There’s NOWHERE I can take him.”

With the luxury of hindsight, and the benefit of having had a second (very different) child, I now realise that I shouldn’t have questioned my ability as a parent as much as I did.  I shouldn’t have assumed that I was ‘failing’.  I should have asked for more help.  I should have tried to connect with people that were dealing with similar situations.  It wasn’t anything I had done ‘wrong’…every child is born with their own unique personality, health issues and needs.  Sometimes they share these with the majority, other times they don’t.

I often wish that I had been able to meet and interact with people who felt the same isolation as me.  Whether the cause of it was real or imagined isn’t relevant - the feelings I felt were debilitating.  If any of this is ringing true to you, please feel free to                               .

If I can help, I will.  Sometimes just talking to someone who’s been there can help set you free. xo

Wild and Free

Free my soul.jpg

For me, the most beautiful words in the English language are “wild”, “free”, “sunshine”.

They evoke passion and desire, they make me feel excited and blessed, they give me a sense of light and being.  Yet, sometimes they cause panic.  I feel trapped.  I feel like I’ve fallen short.  I sense clouds above me.

How can the things that motivate you the most, also suffocate you?  How can love feel like pressure, how can having everything you ever wanted feel like prison? 

I’m like a gypsy clothed in traditional ideologies.  I want the house, the car, to be a wife, to hold down a ‘steady’ job.  I’m not a rule breaker or debater, I fit quite neatly into society’s little ‘box’…yet “freedom” is my greatest motivator, my core driver.  I need this sense in order to feel fulfilled, like I’m whole.  I am so attracted to the wild, the free, the uninhibited.  Yet I could never live to that degree. 

If someone were to ask me the one thing I’d want to be remembered for, it would be “sunshine”.  I want to bring sunshine to those around me.  I want people to shine in my presence.  I want to bring out the life in others.  I want to be energy that attracts energy.

So long I have lived with the internal conflict of trying to juggle my traditional ideologies with my wistful gypsy-ism.  I think along the way to becoming Mama Pyjama, the gypsy was shelved and along with it, my core sense of being.  This wasn’t because of anything particular that anyone else said or did.  This was a result of a lifetime of building up expectations and definitions of what it meant to be the ‘perfect’ child, the ‘perfect’ wife, the ‘perfect’ mother, the ‘perfect’ friend.  In pursuit of living up to my OWN expectations, I found it necessary to park the one aspect of myself that questioned these internal definitions of perfection.  

It’s taken me a long time to realise, but I think I finally have a handle on it.  I can be both.  I can still be "wild and free" within the confines of conventional living.  Because I WANT that.  I love being a wife and a mother and a career woman.  I love having a stable home to come home to.  But I don’t need to be ‘stepford’ or self-doubting.  I don’t need to put myself last all the time.  I don’t need to be an ‘adult’ all the time.  I don’t need to be ‘perfect’.  I can be “wild”.  I can be “free”.  I can be all the things I want to be…and it doesn’t matter that I am in a sense an oxymoron.  It is completely okay. 

A sense of freedom is so very important to me, and it’s taken a lot to work out how to have my cake and eat it too.  It’s little things.  I started writing a journal (more so a scrapbook) collating all the things that inspired me.  All the things that made me remember who ‘me’ was.  Song lyrics, photographs, sayings, places I want to go, things I want to see, stuff I’ve done that’s made me feel alive. 

I stopped saying "no" and started saying "yes".  Sounds so simple…but it is probably the biggest hurdle I’ve had to jump.  You get so used to saying "no" to life because it is just easier.  Can I go and do this full day obstacle course thingo?  Well it’s easier to say no than to organise a babysitter, or seek time away from your family, or prepare to put yourself out there to be made a fool of, right?  Yep, it is.  But trust me, saying yes brings you so much more self worth.  It’s easier to say no to going out than to take off your pyjamas, run a brush through your hair, cover your permanent panda eyes with concealer and get out there and pretend like you’re not dead on your feet, right?  Yep, it is.  But believe me, saying yes brings you such a great sense of belonging.  It’s easier to say no than to ask for help with the kids, or reorganise schedules, or call on someone you wouldn’t normally, so that you can go out on a ‘date night’, right?  Yep, it is.  But the positive impact that it can have on your relationship is huge.

I’ve started learning again.  Taking music lessons, reading new books, entertaining new life philosophies, undertaking skills training for my career, doing yoga.  I’ve had to find ways to fit these things into my life, and I admit it is not always easy, but it really is amazing how the universe starts to respond to you when you put it out there.  I’m super bad at meditation and relaxation.  I’m that person that gets stressed and tenses up when someone tells me to relax.  So I’ve been wanting to give yoga a go.  I had no idea how I could fit this into my already busy life, but I just sensed it was something I needed to do.  Within a week or so of thinking about it, my work offered in-house yoga classes that happened to be being run during my lunch break on the day I was scheduled to be in the office.  Co-incidence?  Possibly, but I like to think of it as the universe responding to my request.  If you want to do something bad enough, things will happen and opportunities will present themselves that allow it to be possible.

Music is a huge part of my sense of self.  It is my outlet and my passion.  So my darling husband recently bought me an iPod.  I’m now plugged in at any opportunity.  It’s on throughout my entire work day (except during meetings, though sometimes I wish I could get away with it!).  It’s amazing how much more sunshine there seems to be when you’re walking to the soundtrack on your life.   The trees look greener, the sky brighter, and your step can’t help but to be uplifted. 

These are a few of the things I’m doing that are helping to make me feel "wild and free".  I don’t feel caged anymore.  I finally feel at peace.  The trick now will be maintaining the balance between gypsy-ism and tradition.