Everyday Inspirations

Sitting at the table on my veranda I notice the first early morning rays of sunlight touching the summit of Mount Warning.

Oh, but I look up again after writing just one paragraph and the light on the mountain has already changed, while the folds in the surrounding hills have been further emphasised by the changing morning light.

Inside the house all is still, but that too will change within the next half hour, as my family begins rushing from room to room, preparing themselves for the last work and school day of the week.

Yesterday I became aware of other changes, positive changes in our nearest town, fifteen minutes drive away from our village.

Many years ago our cars were serviced by one particular mechanic. He knew his job well, so we continued to patronise his business, unquestioningly.

And then he retired. Resisting the change, for reasons I’m sure we had at the time, although I have now forgotten, we located another mechanic nearby. Yes, our new mechanic knew his job, although I always felt he lacked that “something special” of our previous man.

About a week ago my car began to complain that it had been neglected way too long, and it was loud about voicing its displeasure at the recent lack of attention.

Making contact with the new, although now not so new owners, of our previous favourite mechanics shop, I translated the problems as best I could, as told to me by my ailing vehicle.

A surprisingly low quote was given, and my car was feeling much better within an hour or two. Apparently, my car had every right to complain ~ a six cylinder car running on only five is not a happy-chappie!

As I have already mentioned, my car needed some T.L.C. so yesterday the “new” mechanics gave it the complete once-over it had been pleading for.

Driving my blue baby back home again I fully expected at any moment it may break out in song, as it glided along the road, purring as contented as a well fed kitten.

Behind the wheel of my car I also mentally rejoiced at having discovered such wonderful mechanics, who have that “special something” which I had missed for years.

I also chided myself at the memory of resisting the change of ownership in this business. Change can be good, just ask my car!

The weather here is changing as well…another change I resist every year. I so enjoy the cooler months, we have so little cooler weather in this area.

The time has come for me to be more accepting of the many changes taking place around me, rather than resisting them. The weather will show no concern as to preferences of the earth’s inhabitants. It will change as it sees fit.

Two weeks ago I couldn’t have sat in comfort at this hour of the morning on my veranda, enjoying the early morning changes of the mountain. It was too cold.

The mountain is changing constantly as I write…the wonderful mechanics in town changed my car into a purring, gliding kitten and now my house has changed into a hive of activity.

Embrace the changes, savour the magical moments and move with them.

Have a fantastic day, in whatever your day brings!  I know I will.

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“Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others”. ~ Jonathan Swift

The theme for the month of September on NaBloPoMo is “Vision”. Although I have taken the challenge before, and succeeded, in writing and posting a new blog post every day for a month, I have not achieved this task during a whole calendar month.

Today I read some of the posts from NaBloPoMo members who had completed the challenge of a new blog post each day for the month of August. It was interesting to note the reactions, ranging from “thank goodness that’s over” right through to the other end of the spectrum, “I achieved the goal, now I’m not sure if I will continue writing each day”.

The latter is closer to my reaction when I had completed the task during June/July. I had developed the habit of daily writing, and it felt quite odd to realise that there was no pressure to continue at this pace.

More recently, after not writing for about a week, (due to work commitments in my “off-line world” along with developing a cold and feeling a tad out of sorts), I felt like a fish out of water ~ I missed writing!

Now I feel inclined to take on the challenge yet again, to write a new post each day, for the month of September.

At first glance, “Vision” appears to be a rather interesting topic to write about. My mind has already developed many ideas, although I can’t promise to come up with a whole thirty posts relating to the topic! We’ll see…

All I can promise at this early stage is that I have the vision to complete the thirty day challenge, with discipline, consistency and confidence again being my key focus words, just as when I began the challenge for the first time in June.

In June, when writing about “Challenging Myself” with this task, I had intended getting into the “web stream” up to my ankles, which I ultimately achieved. The time has now come to plunge in up to my knees.

Okay, maybe plunge is too strong a word…perhaps “taking a larger step into the stream” is a better description.

Regardless of the terminology, I’m up to the challenge, one step at a time. And isn’t that what life’s all about? Moving ahead…one step at a time. How do you climb a mountain…one step at a time. How do you plant a forest? One tree at a time…

Do you have a daunting challenge ahead in your own life? Remember the routine ~”one step at a time”, take small steps towards your ultimate goal, consistently each day.

Before long, you will have climbed that mountain.

(photo credit http://www.tripadvisor.com/)

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“What the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve.” ~ Napoleon Hill.

After World War II had finally ended in the mid 1940’s, England spent a number of years in recovery. Ration tickets to acquire certain food items were still being handed out, air raid shelters remained in residential back gardens and ex-soldiers struggled to find their place in society, during the post war years.

A virtual life line was extended to many of the walking wounded and their families, with promises of beginning a new and wonderful life in a land of sunshine.

Paying just ten pounds per adult and with children travelling for free, these English migrants were offered a ticket to board a ship, bound for Australia.

Those who accepted the offer became affectionately known as the “Ten Pound Poms”.

Even in this day and age, packing up your belongings and family, lock, stock and barrel, boarding an aeroplane and moving from one side of the world to the other would take a huge amount of courage.

Can you imagine the risks of making such a move some forty to sixty years ago, with little knowledge of what to expect, taking a voyage on a ship which would see you arriving at an unfamiliar destination around six to seven weeks after leaving England?

I’d call it nothing short of a leap of faith, and certainly not a move for the faint hearted.

And yet tens of thousands of so called “Ten Pound Poms” took up the offer, on nothing more than just a promise of a wonderful new life, which included work prospects, comfortable accommodation and a freer and more relaxed lifestyle in a warmer climate.

Upon arrival in Australia, many immigrants were to discover that the only guarantee they actually had was the warmer climate. Steady employment wasn’t as easy to acquire as they had been led to believe and the accommodation offered was in the form of a small hut, in what was known as a Migrant Hostel.

Migrant Hostel

And yet most of the “Ten Pound Poms” rejoiced at the opportunity offered to them, a chance to start a brand new life in “The Lucky Country”.

Gone were the days of fear, struggle and uncertainty. In the eyes of these people, they had the world at their feet; anything was possible, opportunities abounded ~ they felt privileged and proud to call Australia “Home”.

In this day and age, I see the move these people made as a giant leap of faith; in those days, they saw it as a gilt-edged opportunity to begin a new life in a new country, away from the heartache they had experienced during the war years.

Numerous stories could be told of the families who risked everything, in search of a more prosperous life to share with those they loved, stories of the heartache and joy experienced during those early days of their new lives, in a new country, on the other side of the world.

One day I will tell my story. Am I a “Ten Pound Pom”? No, but my whole family were. My parents and three sisters made that giant leap of faith in 1951, many years before I was ever thought of.

There’s is a story of hope, inspiration, commitment, struggles, happiness, gratitude and simplicity, but most of all faith…faith in themselves and faith in the promises held in an unknown land. And when I share their story, it will be told with all of the pride and admiration I feel towards my courageous and unassuming family.

If you have the means to honour the actions of someone you know, who also took a leap of faith at some stage in their lives, why not share the story and give them the recognition they so well deserve? Why not write your own article of inspiration?

It will offer reassurance to anyone who reads your story that whatever they set their mind to doing, it can be achieved…because it can.

There’s no such word as “can’t”.

Photo credit : http://www.migrationheritage.nsw.gov.au

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Dependable. Reliable. Trustworthy.

Unruffled. Problem Solver. Innovative.

I’m sure It would be an accurate assumption if I were to proclaim that everyone appreciates having a person in their lives, who possesses the above qualities.

When you miss the last bus home ~ they pick you up.

Your car runs out of petrol ~ they offer their car keys.

You’re flat broke and can’t pay your bills ~ they find money to lend to you.

You know the person I’m talking about. Right along the scale of extremes, ranging from something as simple as buying you a carton of milk, right through to providing you with a roof over your head when you lose your home, they’re there for you.

As a confidant, no one can surpass them. Your secrets are as safe as if they were locked in a vault.

This person thinks nothing of offering you their shoulder to cry on, only to find themselves drowning in your rivers of tears.

No, you say, they won’t drown, they’re invincible, solid as a rock, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound…

But are they? How long can they tolerate being your whipping-post?

Just imagine this; what if one day, assuming as you do, that your back-drop will be there, patiently awaiting your latest life’s little drama, poised at the ready, waiting to run to you as you click your fingers. But they’re not available. What if they are busy, have commitments elsewhere, have an appointment. Worse still…

What if they say no?!

What would you do then? Think they were joking? Laugh it off? Try to persuade them that your life is more important than theirs? Your time is more valuable?

And they still say no.

What’s going on? This isn’t going according to the script. They must be on the wrong page. You explain to them the importance of your dilemma. Say please. Explain some more. Plead with them. Assume they will change their mind and get over their moment of insanity.

No, they further explain…it can’t be done.

Okay, you think to yourself, I understand. They’re having a bad day/don’t feel well/ran out of milk themselves. They’ll get over it. Right now. I need them to jump. According to my plan, this is where they ask me how high.

Hmm…here’s a thought, just out of the blue, thrown in from left-wing, just a random thought at that…What if they don’t have a problem? What if you are their only problem?

What part of NO don’t you understand? Is it the “N” you are can’t get your head around, or is it the “O”?

It’s time to look reality right in the face. You are responsible for yourself. No one else is. If someone offers an act of kindness, appreciate it, thank them, don’t take them for granted, value them.

That special someone in your life, the one with the heart of gold, is allowed to have a life of their own. They are entitled to make plans, showing no consideration to the likelihood of your impending latest life’s drama.

It’s well worthwhile to keep this simple thought in mind. When making a request to someone, the likely outcome can go two ways ~ they may say yes, or they may actually say no.

You asked the question, be prepared for either answer. With a dignified acceptance of the answer being no, your friend is more likely to say yes the next time, especially so if you thank them for their time, their assistance and their friendship.

You wouldn’t want that heart of gold to tarnish,  now would you?

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During the weekend we adopted a very unlikely new family member.

I place the blame totally on the shoulders of my eldest daughter. Whenever we go shopping together we simply must visit ever pet shop within a two kilometre radius of our destination. Just to check out the cute baby kittens and pups, she tells me.

My daughter already shares her home with the most beautiful male cat in existence (he’s from the same litter as my Little Miss Cutie Cat), and a dog who I am sure isn’t really an animal, due to his natural ability to converse with his people, (have you ever seen a dog smile? My daughter’s dog does!)

Regular readers here may also recall that I often refer to my own family of pets, my black velvet Rottweiler, my eleven year old queen cat, as well as the afore mention little cutie cat, who likes to help me with the gardening.

One pet I have never owned, and one my family has constantly requested, is a bird.

Now let me set the records straight. As opposed to popular opinion, it’s not that I don’t like birds; when they come to visit me while I am gardening, which they often do, (much to my amazement!) I talk to them and we co-exist quite happily in amongst the foliage.

I’m just not fussed on little, fluttery, twitting birds; I find them smelly and boring. (No offense to anyone who owns such a bird…that’s just me).

Anyway, back to the shopping expedition with my daughter. Our shopping list wasn’t too extensive ~ some wool, a couple of stationary items and a new pair of ballet tights and leg-warmers for my daughter, a ballet dancer since age six.

Although neither of the pet shops had any kittens at all, nor any ‘goo and gar’ worthy puppies, we still had a wander around to admire the huge array of pet toys on display.

Our wandering may have been a huge mistake, or else a stroke of sheer luck, depending on how you look at it.

In a huge cage, smack bang in the middle of one of the pet shops, sat a large bird. Not the little flapping variety, nor one as big as an eagle…but a pastel coloured parrot. I bent down to say hello to the bird, perched all alone in a cage which would have no doubt been large enough to hold four birds his size.

When I bent down to say hello to the bird, he walked over to me, tilted his head, and listened…I talked some more. Continuing to tilt his head from side to side, he listened some more.

After I left the pet shop, I continued to think about this bird. It had a personality, something I had never noticed in any bird before.

Each day, throughout the week, I thought of him. I spoke to the family about him, who in turn gave me the strangest looks, asking “You actually liked a bird?”

On Saturday, I phoned the pet shop; I had some questions. On Sunday, after the delicate operation of having one wing clipped, he came home with us.

At the moment I am referring to him as “he”, although we won’t know for a while yet as to whether he is a boy. It doesn’t matter though. We have named him “Charlie”, a name suitable for either sex.

Charlie is apparently only one year old and once he has settled into his new home we will train him to be handled and to come out of his cage. Thanks to the World Wide Web, I am now in the midst of taking a crash course in owning and training a parrot!

The initial personality displayed by Charlie was only a glimmer of things to come. Having lived with us for less than two days, we already know he enjoys munching on pieces of apple and raisins, he prefers toast to bread sticks, and likes to lick the salt off Ritz cracker biscuits.

He favours gentle music over heavy rock and roll. He bops along his front perch, swaying from side to side and nodding his head up and down to songs he enjoys, moving to the back perch and sitting quietly when the song is over. (We have decided his favourite song is Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody).

Due to his age, which is apparently likened to being a teenager, he is prone to biting any finger which pokes itself into his cage! I have discovered that, by calmly pulling my finger back and saying “gentle”, he then licks my finger…gently.

It has been an interesting two days, to say the very least. Who would have thought…me, owning a bird!

Only time will tell how this new relationship will develop.

To be continued….

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