A TAILOR MADE APPROACH TO TROUBLING TIMES

It was another hum-drum day in COVID-19 instigated isolation.  

The masses were losing their shiz in the supermarkets. The aisles had been cleared of loo paper, flour, mince-meat and logic.  

Hand sanitiser was as valuable a commodity as a new iPhone and nearing on the same price point as well. Our homes were the safest place to be. For the first few weeks, it was quite lovely having some downtime, until it wasn't.  

I had just finished my lunch and was planning my next big project for the day. Dinner. What was I going to use to inject some flavour into that block of tofu staring back at me? 

 "If the world comes to an end now, is this how I'm going to end my days? Analysing the merits of a soy and honey marinade, or soy and chilli marinade? I will not go down like this. I need to see my friends".  

So, I picked up my phone and sent a call out to my old school pal, Kate Gray and our mutual gal-pal Shannon Blyth (whom Kate had introduced me to a few years ago).  

 "Girls. I miss your faces. Wanna catch up and try out a physically distanced cuppa?" 

They both jumped at the idea, with the enthusiasm of lost souls on a deserted island, waving up at the first aeroplane they'd seen in weeks. The next morning, we met up at a café, grabbed our drinks and headed to a local park.  

We were like three little ducks, awkwardly waddling along the narrow footpaths. Trying to talk, yet also avoiding walking too close to each other. We weaved around trees, stepped into gutters, continually shifting our pace to ensure we weren't sharing that party-pooping virus.  

Finally, we made it to a big picnic table in a park, where we could rest and chat, while still adhering to the rules. 

 We covered all the relevant points of interest. How had we been dealing with isolation? How nervous did we feel trying on jeans for the first time, after spending weeks in fleecy dacks and lycra? Then, of course, there was home-schooling. Shannon and Kate, being parents of human children, talked about matters of discipline and curriculum; while I, of fur child only, pondered if I should have at least tried to teach my dog how to roll over, or something. At least then, I could have pitched in with a "eurgh; how do dog trainers do it?"

 We made our way to the topic of work. Kate was as busy as ever, while my design and writing projects had fallen into an abyss so deep, I didn't even hear a "splash" or a "thud" as they landed (that is unless they're still plummeting). We were sitting on polar ends of the work spectrum. However, it appeared that Shannon had been lingering somewhere in the middle.  

As a fashion designer, her work had dropped off, but she'd been able to pivot her offering so that she could keep her business churning. She also dropped in a brief remark about sewing masks. Huh? Say what? 

Our time was running out, but I wanted to know more. A day or so after we met up, I checked back in with her to see if she was happy to have a more intensive chat about her business. Oh, and could I share her story via my blog? To my delight, she agreed without hesitation.  

 Now. Let's take a few steps back so that you get a better idea of who Shannon is. 

 As previously mentioned, Shannon is a fashion designer. She started her career in Cape Town, then moved to London with her husband, before making her way over here to join us all in Adelaide, where she and her family have settled down in beautiful Belair.  

 With her charming personality, infectious laugh and genuine warmth, it didn't take long before she found herself among friends. 

Shannon released her street-savvy sophisticated style and contemporary elegance upon Adelaide's fashionably astute with the launch of her fashion brand, Limecrush in 2014. 

 Limecrush was popular not only for its contemporary, fresh and chic styling but also for the couturier service Shannon offered with every purchase. No matter your size or proportions, Shannon's tailoring skills would ensure that every customer left her studio feeling comfortable and confident. She'd tweak, tuck and pin, then send each piece off to her team of South Australian sewers to amend.  

 Limecrush was the brand, but " Shannon Blyth designed this… ", soon became the tagline, whenever anybody queried where a customer had sourced her snazzy threads. As her business grew, Shannon's appreciation of what Adelaide's women wanted to wear deepened.  

Her styling shifted to meet the desire for chic, sharp and timeless pieces that were tailor-made to measure, making each piece a unique and valued investment in every wardrobe they found themselves within.    

 It was time to embrace the enviable reputation she'd earned and position her business to leverage off it. In 2019, Limecrush was re-branded as "Shannon Blyth".

Amid all of this business activity, Shannon was also teaching our next generation of fashion designers at TAFE SA on a part-time basis and commandeering the schedules of her two teenagers, in tandem with her equally busy husband, Andrew. She was on the go and loving it. 

Then, 2020 came along, and COVID-19 flicked the globe off its axis, upon which it had been comfortably spinning. 

Shannon was just about to launch her Winter 2020 collection when Scomo told us that we should stay at home instead. Her bi-annual, fun fashion parades were a critical sales generator. Also, her tailor-made to measure service had to be shelved. After all, how can you tuck and pin when you're 1.5m apart? Without these two essential components, what chance did her collection, and her business stand, in the face of COVID-19 restrictions?

 "I had two choices before me. Try and find a way to sell my collection or shut my business down, until the immediate threat of this pandemic had passed. 

 Shutting down my business was taken off the list of options nearly as fast as I had added it. 

 Fashion is my creative outlet; it energises me. My clients have become my friends, and I love knowing that they feel confident, sassy and comfortable in the clothes that I've custom fitted for them.

 I've also worked far too hard to build the Shannon Blyth brand to close it. However, I also felt conflicted. We were grappling with so much uncertainty and grief, that it didn't feel right to be promoting my products, at least in those early days. 

 I decided that I'd keep my business running, but I would press pause on any immediate production plans and mute all marketing until we had a better idea of what was going on.  

This downtime gave me some breathing space to figure out how to respond, and not react, to the shifting parameters within the fashion industry.   

 At the same time, TAFE SA had to stand down some staff, and since I wasn't on a permanent contract, I was among those that had to go for the duration. 

So, there I was, with a lot of time, a surplus of energy, and no way to spend either. I'm a do-er by nature, so waiting this out wasn't an option.  I needed a personal project that had some purpose.

During the first days and weeks of the lock-down, personal protective equipment (PPE) was in drastically short supply.

We were seeing images of people wearing masks across the globe, yet we had none to wear ourselves. At the time we were told that we didn't need to wear them to protect ourselves from others, but should we get sick and needed to leave our home for any reason, a mask would provide some protection for anyone we might interact with.  

I decided that this could be where I'd channel all that energy, so I started sewing masks for friends and family. They weren't ideal, but they were a viable "if all else fails" face covering, and they provided some level of comfort for those I gave them to. Doing something for others also helped me move through the sadness, fear and frustration of the situation we all found ourselves in". 

 While Shannon was making the masks, she was also retaining contact with her local business contacts as they explored effective ways to keep the cogs churning. Catherine Hunter, the owner of Willy Wags, on Unley Rd, Hyde Park, asked Shannon if she would be interested in using some of her retail space to display and sell her Winter Collection.   

 "I hadn't considered selling my clothes off-the-rack in a retail space before. I had established my business with a 'minimal waste' ethos. I didn't want to waste unused fabric, nor did I want to hold excess stock. The only time I sold any of my clothes off the rack previously, was when I was transitioning from one collection to the next and needed to clear out the prior season's sample stock.   

 This lean approach to running my business served me, served the environment and served my local community. By keeping my overhead costs low, I could continue to employ South Australian sewers and engage with other South Australian businesses for my marketing and packaging requirements".  

The team at Willy Wags knew Shannon's brand very well, and the quality of the other products in the store aligned with her high-quality, sophisticated approach to styling. At this point there was nothing much to lose, so she accepted the offer, and is now grateful that she did.  

Within a matter of days, Shannon needed to replenish her stock as her original items sold off the rack at a surprising, and encouraging, rate. 

 Does this mean that the tailor-made to measure service is no longer required? 

 "Not at all. I'm as dedicated as ever to ensure that every woman who wears a Shannon Blyth item, feels comfortable, confident and at the top of her game. If the measurements that I have on file for my existing customers are still valid, then yes, I will ensure that any purchase they make during this time is still custom-tailored for them.   

 I trust that anyone who has purchased off-the-rack, who hasn't experienced my full-service offering due to COVID-19, will be so impressed with how flexible and flattering my pieces already are, that they'll come back for further purchases. Hopefully, at that time, we'll be permitted to fit, nip and tuck again. I'm looking forward to it!" 

 So what's next for Shannon Blyth?

 “I don't think anyone can predict what's happening next, so I just have to back myself with what I believe is the best thing for me, my brand, and my family right now. With the changes I've had to embrace for my business to survive, I've inadvertently opened myself up to unexpected opportunities.  

 In moving forwards, I'm now taking on risks that I wouldn't have considered before. My
 ‘what's next' is a work in progress, but should it all work out, I'll be jumping onto all my social channels to share my news with my valuable tribe of supporters".  

 While Shannon is boldly conjuring up plans for her Shannon Blyth brand, she's also re-training herself as Shannon Blyth, the lecturer. In recent weeks, the innovative team at TAFE SA have revived their fashion courses via online classes and have looped Shannon back in to teach some of them. Had she ever lectured via an online classroom before? Nope, but she's proven to be pretty resourceful when flung into unfamiliar territory and is already kicking digital goals for our up and coming fashion designers. 

Thankfully South Australia's PPE supply has also been replenished, so there won't be any need for those masks. Regardless, I have one hanging up in my studio as a reminder of what it is to serve others when our survival instincts dictate that we should serve ourselves.  

Instead of panicking when the pandemic knocked on our door, Shannon persevered.  

Instead of stripping shelves, Shannon sat down and sewed.  

Instead of slamming down the brakes on her business, Shannon found a way to take her foot off the accelerator and transition to a speed that's allowing her to drive steadily through these foggy days; with just enough visibility to keep edging ahead a few metres at a time. 

It's the entrepreneurs like Shannon who will help to keep our economy ticking over and will continue to inspire others through their actions. 

 To find out more about Shannon Blyth, and to keep in touch with her hints of big things ahead, please head over to her website www.shannonblyth.com.au and follow her on Instagram @shannonblythfashion and Facebook @Shannonblyth.

NATURE'S COURSE

The kindest thing you can do is to let death occur on its terms, sometimes.

I just took my dog for a walk, and on the way, I saw a pigeon sitting on a patch of grass alongside a path.

It sat with a deliberateness that caught my attention.

As I walked past it flew away and exposed two baby birds. It’s a very windy day today, so the likelihood that they both fell out of their nest from a branch above was high.

“Ahhh, so that’s why it seemed so alert and determined,” I thought. I cautiously approached the baby birds and noticed that one was, if not already dead, then well on its way to farewelling its short life. The other baby was struggling. Lifting its head, showing anxiety at having been exposed.

I felt torn.

The mother (I presume), was pacing around in a garden bed not far from where I stood. So long as I was near her babies, there was no way she was coming back.

With one hand restraining my curious dog, I shoved my other hand into my pocket, hoping to find a tissue. Maybe I could pick the birds up and take them over to the garden bed, placing them by their mother?

Then I realised that while the mother had been sitting by her babies in the same spot for a while, the garden bed was only a temporary landing pad. What if in moving them, she flew away and couldn’t find them again?

The surviving bird was so painfully fragile. Had I tried to move it or save it, it would most likely die from stress before I was able to find a safe space and Google “how to save baby birds”.

With a lump in my throat, I chose to step back, out of view of the mother. She needed a clear path, to return to her role of protecting and comforting her little ones. I watched from afar, hoping she would race back to them. In less than a minute she had pottered back with as much haste as a walking bird can achieve. She bobbed and searched until she found them again, resuming her position.

I walked away to allow nature to take its course and left this distressed mother alone to find closure and peace with her pending loss. I will return in a few hours and check on them, from a distance this time. If the mother is gone and the babies have both died, then I will tuck them into little graves beneath a bush so that they can rest. In the meantime, I’ll do that Google check, just in case.

MY MOLLY TREE

There’s a tree that sits just outside our garden. I planted it about four and a half years ago. I used to watch it grow, willing it to show its leaves above our fence line.

I would often stand in the garden with my little West Highland White Terrier, Molly. She loved to look over the fence, and I’d often plonk her upon my chest or my shoulders so she could see out into the communal garden.

At that time, the little trees’ highest leaves were barely peeking above the fence line.

Molly wasn’t a very well girl. She had some health issues that led to my partner and I making the agonising choice to end her suffering. We’d booked a locum vet to visit our home. She’d had so many health issues over the years that she’d developed a debilitating anxiety surrounding vet clinics. We wanted her last hour to be in a space where she felt calm and safe.

The vet gave our girl a preparative sedative injection. She squirmed a little bit after receiving it, so I picked her up to look out of the window, into the garden she loved so much. We gazed upon that tiny little twig of a tree together, for the last time.

Then I was called over to the couch where we held her and kissed her farewell. We were devastated.

As the days passed by, I found the strength to start collecting her blankets, toys and other doggy possessions. I discovered her hairbrush with her wiry, white hair still wound through it. I teased a clump of it out and tucked it into the soil that surrounded the tree. From this day forth, it would be called my Molly Tree.

Now, approximately three years later, I’m looking out of that window again. That little twig of a tree is now so tall that it shoots well above our fence line. It even has three small branches extending out from it. Up until now, a scattering of green leaves has adorned it.

I’ve admired its resilience over the years. It’s survived intense winds, freezing nights, scorching heat, lack of water and whatever else the elements have thrown at it.

I’ve willed it on, watching it grow, cheering each new branch that appears over the fence line.

It’s fresh and a little cloudy out there today. A reprieve from the blistering heat that has scorched our nation. Bushfires have ravaged our landscape, killing so many of our native animals, destroying homes and lives.

For the first time, I saw my Molly Tree suffer. Her green leaves turned brown and shrivelled. Was she going to survive another blistering hot summer?

I watched on as her leaves fell off and felt a heaviness in my heart.

A few days later, I noticed a hint of green at the end of each branch. Buds of hope were pushing through. Could this be a new leaf?

Another day later, I checked again. It was more than a leaf, it looked like a cluster of leaves.

A week later, I’m looking out, and to my delight, it appears that the Molly Tree has not only made it through the last scorching chapter, but she has flourished. It’s as if she needed a real challenge to reach the next realisation of her being.

At the very peak of her tall, skinny frame is a burgeoning canopy. It’s not just a leaf here or a leaf there. A mini bush of green is forming. I can feel all the baby branches aching to stretch out and soak up the sun. From shooting up, it’s now ready to spread out.

Her little branches are mimicking the growth at the top of the tree. They’re starting to look more full, greener than they’ve ever been.

My Molly Tree has not only pulled through; she’s hinting at a promise of growing into a beautiful provider of shade and comfort for her humans in the years to come.

Through the seasons, events, celebrations and tragedies, my Molly Tree has just kept doing what trees do. She endures, grows, receives nourishment, and gives back.

The taller she grows and the wider her reach spreads, the longer the gap becomes between the days that I would watch her with and then without my beautiful Molly.

She’s provided me with a timeline for my healing. Each new day acts as a small stitch, pulling my torn heart back together again.

At the same pace as our tree’s growth, the memories of our time shared with Molly have grown into a comforting canopy of love and gratitude. For that we feel very blessed for all our yesterdays with Molly, and we hold hope for many tomorrows beneath the shade of her tree.

FROM THE NOSE TO THE HEART

As I stepped through my front door, out of my home and into the world yesterday, I found myself wading amid a flood of Jasmine.  The aroma of this sweet-smelling flower was all-consuming, it saturated the air.  

Jasmine is a gift in my life. Each time I smell it, a wave of nostalgia washes through me.

I breathe it in, and I find myself back in the 1990s, in my winter school uniform, standing outside the paint shop on Magill Road after school, waiting for the bus to take me home.  

A corrugated fence ran alongside the paint shop.  Over the years a Jasmine plant had crawled its way up on and over it. 

During the winter months, it sat, a stalky vine, barren of flowers and aroma. 

 With biting winds lashing against me and grey skies above,  I would stand at the bus stop in my thick brown stockings, dull blue tunic and heavy blazer.  We didn't have smartphones back then, so my only option would be to stare into the distance, and watch the traffic drive past me as my brain churned through the events of the day.   I felt an eternity pass in every minute that ticked by.

 As winter slugged its way into its final days, the little green leaves and white buds would slowly start to form a pattern over the rusty corrugated fence.  

 Then 'that' day would arrive.  On auto-mode as per usual, I'd wander over to the fence where I’d drop my bag to my feet and wait, until finally, the first smell of Jasmine would unravel itself within my olfactory system, and my heart would soar. 

It was like an alarm bell, alerting me to the shift in seasons ahead, the promise of sunny days, t-shirts, shorts, beach days and melting ice-cream cones.

I would turn to the Jasmine bush and bury my face in its blanket of flowers.

With a pang of guilt, I would then pinch off a small stretch of flowers and shove them into my blazer pocket, so that I could grab sneaky sniffs as I made my way home on the bus. The fresh Jasmine would pierce through the dank air of tired students in their damp, woollen blazers.   

A couple of decades and a few years later, this memory is re-ignited every time Jasmine’s fresh, first release of fragrance finds me.

What aroma takes you back to a precious memory of a place, time or person?  We all have one, and when you discover it, take the time to just stop and immerse yourself in the sweep of images and emotions before they float off on the next breeze.

MY (PRETEND) COMMENCEMENT SPEECH

"Please, God, make this end, right now". 

That's the only memory I have of my response to the Alumni speech from when I graduated.

Our Graduation Dinner was more a ceremonial affair than our actual graduation since we hadn't undertaken our final exams yet.  This timing might have been a nifty strategy to encourage us to succeed, or it was merely a matter of convenient scheduling. Either way, I experienced the year-long pressure tighten just that bit more.

My uniform had been freshly pressed, my socks were pulled up, and my shoes were polished. My long hair was scraped back and wrapped up in a tight ponytail as if to keep all the essential facts, dates and quotes within my brain for the duration of the upcoming examinations.

The speeches from the Principal, Academic Staff and Head Student were rotated with the courses of our meal for the night, all pleasantly light and digestible. It was only when the Alumni took to the stage that things went sour.  

I was keen to hear her inspiring story and learn from her insights. This was meant to be the "Rah, rah, c' mon, you can do it!" motivational speech, or at least I thought it was. Maybe she didn't get the memo to be a little more like Oprah.

Instead, she used the platform to voice her stance on a political issue, that I won’t re-ignite by giving it any air. The contentious topic dominated her speech and drowned the enthusiastic mood of all in attendance.

I've often thought of this disappointing speech and wondered what I would say to a class of Graduates if I were ever invited to impart my words of insight and inspiration. 

As it turns out, nobody's asked. Well, not yet. However, I do believe that we should create our own circumstances when possible, so I'm writing the speech anyway. 

If only one person reads it, or hears it, and takes something positive from it, then that's a win in my books.

But where to start? My words would be from my singular life. My advice would be weighted in value according to my own experiences and perspectives.  I am also not as exciting and as wise as I like to think I am. 

So, I turned to my community. My digital village. I called out to my Facebook friends, asking them to share three universal laws that they wish they'd understood when they were at school.

The response I received was overwhelming. Literally.  I tried to include every submission; however, it ended up reading like a mangled knot of ideas.  Instead, I decided to capture the essence of the many contributions I received, selecting quotes that weaved together shared thoughts.    

This is not intended to be a directive on how to live your life.  It's just a group of friends, who are all on your side, sharing some insights from their own lives, that you can take or leave.  

Here we go:

****************************

YOU are enough! Speak your truth. Live your truth.
@Leah Ivy

A lot of what I'm going to discuss focuses on the 'doing' of living, but if we can't look ourselves in the mirror and believe the words "I am enough, just as I am", then the rest doesn't matter much. 

When you tell yourself that you're inadequate in any way, that something about you is un-loveable, you are depriving yourself of inner peace and happiness, as well as those around you. When in doubt, speak to yourself as you would to a friend that you really care about.  

If you're so caught up in your negative ruminations and you can't break out of it, then be honest about this and talk to someone who you know really cares about you. You might even need to talk to someone you don't know, a qualified therapist who you can share the rawness of your truth with, not having to worry about hurting the feelings of those close to you. 

Whatever your situation:  

Be kind to yourself… and always, always be YOU! Shine away
 @Jodie James-Freeman

When you embrace your uniqueness, in time, you will come to appreciate that:

Being a bit different is an advantage.
@Leonique Swart

Give yourself permission to be the wildflower that grows along the edge of the grey highway. We need your talent, your quirk, your different ability, your unique perspective on the world. The rainbow doesn't leave us in awe because all its stripes are the same colour.

Tell yourself in the mirror, out loud, that you are worthy of the effort and discipline that will be required of you to achieve your goals.

There's never a better time than right now to do the 'thing' you've always wanted to do or be the person you want to be…
@Natalie Borrillo 

To date, most of the choices in your life have been made by other humans, older humans, who care about your welfare. They have called upon the resources that have been available to them to nurture you in body, mind and soul.  

The fact that you are alive today and you are graduating is a testament to the fact they've kept you fed, watered, sheltered, clothed and no doubt, loved. Always be grateful for the time and energy that has been invested in you by others.   Don't forget to say 'thanks'.

To this point, you have done mainly what you were told to do.

• Learn the alphabet. 

• Eat your vegetables.

• Don't stick your knife in the toaster, especially while it's toasting.

• Look both ways before you cross the road.

• Wash your hands after going to the loo.

• Study hard so you can make your way to graduation day.

Well done. Big tick. 

Now move beyond that.

Dive deeper. 

Use your initiative. 

Relieve your guardians of the burden of accountability and authority over your life and take control.   

I'm not saying you should lose touch with them, or no longer loop them into your thoughts, worries, and hopes. Seek out and respect their insights but trust your gut instinct more. The choices you make must be your own. 

When a plan works out, take a moment to pat yourself on the back, then keep going.  When it doesn't work out, take a moment to identify the lesson before you try again, then keep going.  Blame doesn't serve you or anybody else.

Find out what it is that energises you, makes you come alive.

If you have no idea what that is, then look back on previous years, months, weeks and days. 

When did you become so absorbed in an activity that you lost time? Playing a sport, reading a particular genre of writing, painting, watching stars, coding your own app, helping those in need, planting trees? There are no constraints. It might appear to be too frivolous to be taken seriously, but if it is something you keep coming back to and you feel fulfilled when you're in that space, then take note. 

Go on. Take note.  

"Better out than in"
@Erin Taplin

Each time you find yourself in a state of pure flow, not caring what else is going on around you, lost in that moment, make a mental note. Also, stay alert to what drains or upsets you. The more you pull out of your mind and bring into your reality, the greater clarity and purpose you will have.

To quote Mark Twain
"The two most important days in your life are the day you are born, and the day you find out why".

It might be challenging to transform your reason for being into an income. That's okay. Don't stress out about it. Just ensure that you keep that activity within your life, energising you, while you bring in coin doing something else to pay for all of life's essentials.  

I've heard a few people say, both literally and metaphorically, that it's much easier to steer a car when it's moving. If you've ever tried to turn your wheels when your car is stationary, you'll appreciate the struggle of trying to get anywhere when you're not in motion.  The same applies to your life.

It is in the doing that the becoming eventuates. 

“Good luck is when preparation meets opportunity”. I can't remember where I picked that line up from, but it has guided me through my life.  If you remain actively engaged with what excites you, the much higher your probability of identifying and securing an opportunity to make it a more significant part of your life.  

"Leap into a major change in your life that scares you at least once every five years.
(Otherwise, you'll wake up old and in the same place you started)"
@Simon Letchford 

It's when you push yourself outside of your comfort zone that growth happens. Learning requires exposure to stuff you haven't experienced before, that's just the way it works. 

Taking risks is essential if you want to make progress towards your goals.  It's quite likely that some of the risks you take, won't work in your favour.  You might also attract criticism and warnings of caution from those around you. 

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.
Dr Seuss c/- @Jo Fracas

Listen to those that are important to you. The rest is just noise.
@Kate Gray

What you really want to do might sound absolutely ludicrous to some and totally inspired to others. Everyone comes at life with values and lessons that are informed by their own experiences. 

Some of these will help fast track you to a resolution that sets you on the path to achieving your dreams, while others will just put up barricades based upon their own fears. The trick is to determine which one is which.

 If the advice is coming from somebody who has shown you over the years that they really see you, for who you are and accept you, then take note. Those who are genuinely interested in helping will try to provide insights that will aid, not hinder, your progress.

Seek out people who are already in the space you want to be in, who have reached the pinnacle of the summit you are striving towards. If you can't access them personally, then read books by them, about them or documentaries or anything else you can get your hands on.   

Imagine that you are them, in the space that you dream of being. Now look back and imagine all the challenges and setbacks that could have stopped you from getting there and figure out how you got around them. Next, set in place strategies to lessen the likelihood of tripping over these hurdles as you move closer and closer towards your goal. 

Failure is the most effective form of learning...
@Paul Rogasch

 It seems that the younger we are, the more willing we are to accept failure. We don't even see it as a failure, we're just in a constant state of learning. We need to be to survive. If we let our ego get in the way of learning to walk, we'd still be crawling. 

 However, as we get older, our ego holds us back from giving life a red-hot go. The fear of failing, looking like a tool, being criticised or laughed at can completely demobilise us.

 Always ask 'what is the worst thing that can happen?'  Most of the time, it is not that scary and makes change easier.
@Kate Gray

The writer, Anais Nin, once said that "life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage". The more willing you are to embrace risk, the more productive and fulfilling your life becomes. 

Always one to deliver profound insights, my Dad sent through this advice for us to all consider:

Be more forward.
@Noel Sproles

 Upon receiving this succinct suggestion, I set about writing a list of all the things we could be more forward about. Then I thought I would ask the guru himself.  With a cheeky laugh, he advised that he wasn't being profound at all and was just thinking of all the pretty girls he'd been too shy to talk to when he was a young fella.  Good on ya, Dad!

On that refreshing note, let's shift our focus from our inner world to our outer world.  

So, there's someone you fancy then? 

Have the guts to talk to them, in person, not via the safety of a screen.  

Look them in the eye, smile, take a deep breath and ask them out. They might say yes, they might say no. The chances are they'll be flattered either way.  If their response isn't polite, then great, you just saved yourself a whole load of time fantasising about a person who was, in fact, a total waste of your brain space.

By default, say YES. Never decline an invitation or offer without a seriously good reason. Life's best experiences are the unexpected ones.
@Simon Letchford

There's one thing that drives me harder than F.O.M.O. – The Fear Of Missing Out and that's D.I.M.O. Disappointed, I Missed out. As Simon says, when you find yourself on the receiving end of an opportunity, step into it.  

You don't know what you don't know.

Therefore, I'd rather know that something was rubbish than wonder for years afterwards if it was great; or worse still find out that I had declined an opportunity that would have been phenomenal and the only thing that stopped me from experiencing it was … me.  

Along a similar theme, a clear message that jumped out from my digital village was the transformative power of travel.

Experiences, not "things", will make your life richer. Travel the world as much as possible.
@Becky Evens

 Ride the crest of the wave that is life.
@Dave Cribbin

 Travel, travel, travel.
@Rachel Cross

We are informed by the spaces and people around us. If we stay in the same area, with the same sounds, smells, sights, people, messages, politics, media, food, then our existence will be defined by all these elements.

Travelling has a power to it that cannot be measured. Being exposed to other ways of life opens your mind. Exploring new lands expands your horizons and completely dismantles the limitations you have established for yourself. Adventure can shift your perception of who you are; what you are capable of, and what it is you want to do with your life.

 So far, this has mostly been focused on what you can do for you. It is just as important to consider what you can for others. When you invest your energy into service, improving the lives of your community, you not only bring purpose into your life, but it also makes you feel good about yourself.  

This is best summed up by this Greek proverb:

A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.

If you are short of time, then donate money.  If you are short on funds, then share your time.  If you’re so focused on your studies that you don’t have any hours to spare, you could consider volunteering for projects that will provide you with the experience and skills you need in your career. 

One of the many jobs I have had in my time was with a recruitment company who hired for highly competitive government internships. I tell you with my hand on my heart;  the graduates who had carved out the time to actively engage with volunteer programmes received many more big ticks on their applications than those who scored highly in every subject. 

Not only did it show that they were responsible and empathetic citizens, but they were also better equipped to discuss team dynamics, conflict resolution, goal setting, project planning and other essential skills.

While there are still many more gems of insight, I believe we've captured the core of what I and my digital village wanted to share with you. 

Take the time to find out who you are.

Pay attention to what excites you and what drains you. It is your responsibility to service your truth.

Be curious.  Step outside your comfort zone. 

Be the person that you would want to learn from on the day you graduate.

And finally…

Have fun. Laugh a lot. Life is too short and sweet not to
@Emma Papps

Written by Fiona Sproles (and my village) – August 2019 

I'D RATHER A 'NO' REPLY THAN NO REPLY AT ALL.

People, please help me. I am perplexed. Was I checking my Facebook when the amendment to the rules of polite communications got circulated?

In the last few years, I've noticed an increasing trend of decreasing responses.

Now, I too have ignored an e-mail here and there, primarily SPAM or repeated e-mails sent from businesses with whom I have already communicated my disinterest in their product or service.

I do, however, pride myself on the fact that I will always respond to an e-mail that was clearly composed with me in mind.

Do I like every e-mail that I receive? Not possible.

Do I like every person that's ever sent me an e-mail? Nope, of course not.

Even if I receive an e-mail from someone that leaves my stomach churning, I'll still reply. Sure, it might take me a day or two of festering; consulting with my most trusted human (wifey) and bingeing on Oprah, Brené Brown and all the other "you can do it grrrl, embrace your vulnerability and own that power within" gurus. But I tell you what. I get it done.

I sit. I open up my e-mail and then I write. Delete. Write again. Switch sentence sequences. Write some more and then take the dog for a walk. Then I come back, delete all the copy that distracts from the critical point, then re-compose. Then I walk away again. Come back. Re-read. Deep breathe in. Deep breathe out. Deep breathe innnnn… and "send". Then I re-read and find a bloody typo that had been hiding during all the other checks. Ah well.

I know the recipient may not like my response, but I'm okay with that. So long as I know that I have taken the time to respond in as diplomatic a manner as the situation allows for, then I can sleep at night.

I am also aware that I can occasionally be an over-communicator, but not as flagrantly as I used to be. Once a wild horse who was kicking up words all over the dusty plains; I've slowly acquired the skills to keep my messages (relatively) neat and concise so that my words may gently canter over the screens of clients, colleagues, friends and family with equestrienne-like ability.

We're all swamped, I get that. If the answer to my e-mail is time-critical but not incoming, I'll send a polite reminder and request a time for a phone call if any matters require further discussion.

However, if the delay isn't a show stopper, I'll allow for days or weeks, depending on the message content. But no response at all? That's just rude.

Is this just me? Apparently not. I've discussed my ponderings with others, and the general feedback averaged out to "Oh my Gawd. Shut the gate! I've been thinking about that too! What's worse is when you can see that they've read your message and then ghost you. What's with that?".

Let's press pause here. I'm making it appear as if nobody ever replies to my messages. No. I'd be a blubbering mess if that were the case.

I am happy to confirm that I do in fact, maintain a healthy level of polite and friendly communications with many clients, colleagues, friends and family.

What gets me picking away nervously at the random hairs on my face and staring into my pantry searching out anxiety blocking snacks are the non-responses to e-mails that were very obviously written directly to someone with a request for a response, only to be met with deafening silence.

The consequence of no response, in alignment with my evaporating self-esteem, is an assumption that the reader either doesn't like what I wrote; doesn't feel comfortable with a negative response or (here's the 3am sweat fest), they don't like me. There could be a million other reasons, but where facts aren’t available, doubt and conspiracy thrives.

Do I have the answers to this phenomenon? No. As per my opening sentence, I missed that memo… or the LinkedIn link to that "silence is the best response" TED Talk.

So, If you are prone to muttering a "meh" and swiping right…or left… on e-mails (whatever the reject direction is on Tinder), I’ve ripped off a Beatles tune and re-worked it. May it become an earwig that nudges you towards pressing ‘reply’ instead of ‘delete’.

Yesterday
People used to write back to say "well, hey!"
Now it looks as if they've gone away
I miss those replies from yesterday.

Suddenly
There's not half the responses there used to be
There's a mystery hanging over me
Oh, why don't people reply to me?

Why you can't say "let me think about" … "go away" or even just "no."
You refuse to say
Did I say something wrong?
Now I long for yesterday …ay …ay..ay.

Yesterday
What was in our mind we used to say
Now so many opt to just hideaway
Oh, please just say what you need to say.

Written by Fiona Sproles – July 2019

I NEED TO PEE TOO MUCH TO THINK OF A TITLE

I'm standing here typing this with my legs crossed because I need to pee. But I'm not going to go to the loo.

I have been cheering myself on every day for the last year, saying "You're going to start your blog today. Yes. Today is the day. Today. Yes. It will happen” and then it doesn't.

I start off with great determination, then I switch on my phone and my computer. Twelve hours later and the day has been sucked up by tasks, inconsequential "must do's" that don't really need to done and then... disappointment. Time and time again, I pacify myself by declaring "TOMORROW!". Yes, tomorrow, the land that's always one day further away from achieving anything.

I went to start writing this today then decided it was more important to attend to haemorrhoids via a long soak in the bath and then I had to fix a 'slow close' toilet seat that has been slamming itself shut for months now. My excuses had finally become so sh*tty (pun intended) that I was jolted into the realisation of what I was doing.

What's holding me back? Something to write about. That's what.

What makes this more pathetic is that I am a professional writer. People actually pay me to write about stuff. True story. It's so easy when someone says "Hey, I want to sell this window. Can you write something about it?" or "We've got this stout that we're going to sell over the Winter months. Here are the technical specs. Can you pimp that up for us?" Yeah, sure I can! It’s so easy... when it's for other people.

But, leave me with a blank page and my own thoughts, and I white out. Blankety Blank. Brain blizzard. Suddenly I have nothing to say for myself. Maybe it's because I keep thinking that the first post needs to be a cracker, something that you'll want to share with all your friends and family. Clearly, that's not going to happen. So, let's shift the expectation to a convenient height, one that I can comfortably step over and beyond, instead of the enormous wall that I've been craning my neck to look up at.

I shall just write and go from there, after all, it's easier to steer a car when it's moving.

My encouragement to get started comes from Samuel Beckett's quote:

"Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."

Okay. The first blog is done. Tick. Yay me. It might not be amazing, but it’s something. At this point, doing nothing has been the fail. So today, I fail better.

I can now attend to my burning need to go to the loo and get the dog off the couch, upon which he's been barking madly at a cat outside for the last five minutes.

I won't be disappointed with myself tonight, in fact, I think I just earned myself a wee dram of whiskey.