Everyday Inspirations

Many years ago, in fact so many years ago that it now feels like it was a whole lifetime away, a new shopping centre sprang up in the most unlikely of places. For reasons which I have never been aware of, these shops were built right smack bang on the edge of Sydney Harbour.

Who would have thought?

The whole concept was very avante-guard, back in the day, even for Sydney.

Surrounded by a marina, the local rowing club and a beautiful parkland area along the water’s edge, these shops were an absolute delight to visit.

As a newly married couple, my husband and I enjoyed visiting Birkenhead Point every weekend. Our weekly fruit and vegetables were carefully chosen from the huge array of fresh produce on display, after which we would wander along the harbour side, pointing out which boats we liked the most and dreaming of a day when we would own our own.

Just this morning, I dragged out of my linen cupboard an old, faded and fraying tea-towel, a relic of our visits to the place where just the two of us would while away the hours, with not a care in the world.

Those were the days when we truly, although unintentionally, lived the lives of minimalists, without even realising how lucky we were. Where did those days go?

But back to the tea-towel…I remember finding it at one of the nautical shops down near the water side. We loved to admire the shop’s wares, although we had little money to purchase anything.

On the towel is printed a story ~ “Why Is A Ship Called She?” It goes like this ~

“A ship is called a “she” because there is always a great deal of bustle around her; there is usually a gang of men about, she has a waist and stays; it takes a lot of paint to keep her good looking; it is not the initial expense that breaks you, it is the upkeep; she can be all decked out; it takes an experienced man to handle her correctly; and without a man at the helm, she is absolutely uncontrollable. She shows her topsides, hides her bottom and, when coming into port, always heads for the buoys.”

Reading back over it all of these years later, it really is an extremely sexist tea-towel! However I still enjoy the play on words, and I remember why I liked it back then.

After finding the tea-towel, I Googled Birkenhead Point. Yes, the shopping centre is still there, however I do not recall it as ever having been the ritzy edifice it now appears to be!

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“Today I will direct my thoughts to dwell on the positive about me, and the good things I have done. I will withhold any self criticisms or negative self talk. I will not hold others opinions above my own.

Today I will refuse to participate in anything that takes away from my feeling good, or entertain thoughts of self doubt.

Today I will remember that as an ever loving, joyful soul, I am not my body, nor am I the things I have done, therefore I will not compare myself with others, or judge myself in any way.

Today I will not go against my inner voice of conscience nor put on a “woe-is-me” scene. I will cancel any unrealistic expectations of myself. I will willingly accept whatever is present.

Today I will do something good so that I have more good thoughts about myself tomorrow.

Today I will remember that I am enough, I am okay, alright just as I am, and I give myself permission to just be myself. I will make it okay to say “no”, even if it displeases others. I will forgive myself and forget what I have forgiven. I will always do the best I can in whatever circumstances I find myself in.

Today I will only see, think and hear good about myself. I will practise being patient, kind and gentle with myself. I will take every opportunity to laugh at myself, and refuse to take life too seriously. I will respect myself and treat myself with the V.I.P. status I am worthy of.

Today I choose to have positive and self supporting attitudes and to participate only in those expressions that add to my inner harmony and well being, and I especially prefer to be involved in those things that will have me feeling good and full of appreciation about myself at the end of this day….

And about all, it is my intention to be gentle and kindly towards myself…no matter what percentage of these goals I achieve.” ~ Author Unknown.

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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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“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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“It’s not easy bein’ green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over ’cause you’re
Not standing out like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky

But green’s the colour of Spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean
Or important like a mountain
Or tall like a tree” ~ From the song, It Isn’t Easy Bein’ Green, by Kermit the Frog.

Winter may very well still be with us, but we are already experiencing the occasional warm day.

Such was the case last Sunday, when we decided to take advantage of the pleasantly warm day and get into a few tidy up jobs and pruning of trees, growing along the front of our house.

As I collected together an armful of cut tree branches, one of the “leaves” in my arms let out the unmistakable sound of a cicada. All I had to do was find him, in amongst the greenery!

Twelve year old Adam was particularly keen to see him. For many years he has collected the emptied shells, no longer required by its inhabitant, although he had never before laid eyes on the real thing.

I was determined to find this little green fellow and I promised Adam he would be safe to hold, although he may fly away.

And find him, we did! The green leaves camouflaged him very well, but we eventually located him for Adam to have his first close up view of the cute little guy.

One day I will remember to have my camera strapped to my side when I spend time in the garden! All was not lost though, as Adam had his trusty mobile phone in his pocket. For once, I was pleased. I’m usually warning him that he will need to have the phone surgically removed from his hand, if he doesn’t put it down!

Here’s one of Mr. Cicada climbing up Adam’s t-shirt. The quality of the photos isn’t great, although not bad for a mobile phone.

After Mr. Cicada had posed beautifully for this photo session for a few minutes, Adam gently placed him into the fork of a tree. He chirruped his thanks to us…just in time for little Miss Cutey Cat to realise where he was!

Luckily, Mr. Cicada was again wonderfully camouflaged in amongst the green foliage, so Miss Cutey didn’t have a hope of finding him.

We have a cluster of “Grandfather’s Whisker’s” attached to the bottom branch of the tree where Adam put Mr Cicada. As Miss Cutey Cat sat at the bottom of the tree, searching for her new cicada friend, she suddenly rubbed the whole of her face and head into the soft fluffy foliage of the Grandfather’s Whisker’s! Drat that phone / camera! As I tried to take a photo of her, it just wouldn’t click! The best I could do was a photo of her happy little face, after the soft, cuddly rub.

These are the magic moments of life…and this is what life is all about! Taking the time to pause, savour the moment and catch it if you can with a photo. The memory of Adam’s first encounter with a live cicada will linger, long after the cicada has flown away.

The front of the house looks much neater after our tidy up. I live in the hope that the pre-summer weather remains kind to us, so we can continue with the gardening tasks at hand.

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