Vonerable

Give it a try

 

"It’s impossible” said pride.

“It’s risky” said experience.

“It’s pointless” said reason.

“Give it a try” whispered the heart.

(Source unknown)

Glistening

Remember I said yesterday I loved the rain on leaves in winter? This is what I mean. Driving to my folk's house, there is a street bordering bushland and I nearly drove off the side of the road earlier this week, mesmerised by the raindrops shimmering in the early morning sun. I think the particulalry glisteny shrub is Wooly Bush (Adenathos sericeus) but what does it matter? It glistens.

 

Winter Garden

I asked the little vonerables what they liked about Winter: "being cozy under a blanket watching a movie and drinking hot chocolate" and....and nothing else. That's all they had. It's one of my favourites too but I also love

• puddles (unless we're on our way into class)
• apples
• soup
• wet earth (inherited from my mother - but at least I'm not tempted to eat it ;) )
• doonas
• a well functioning hot water system
• the last of the roses
• green paddocks
• beverages that steam
• polka dot umbrellas
• Killer's determination to wear t-shirts throughout the season
• slow cooker meals
• my tumble drier
• rain glistening on leaves
• wood fires under the patio
• mandarins

 

And you? What do you love about winter?

 

Progress of sorts

So. I'm taking baby steps with the whole letting people in thing. You would think, judging from the hyperventilating and catastrophising, that I was facing the challenge of, say, giving a classical piano recital. Or becoming an air traffic controller. Not even close. We're just talking about being less guarded and less protective of every little aspect of my life. It actually is exhausting having to run algorithms for each person about how relaxed I can be in their presence, how much information is too much, what sort of things are they likely to identify with or approve of. And on and on. 

I'm sure I'm not Robinson Crusoe in this. But I'm equally sure that it must seem utterly ridiculous to people who are spontaneous and unguarded. I'm aiming for Moderately Spontaneous and Only Marginally Guarded (I blame all the capitalisation on my mother introducing me to AA Milne at a formative age). It seems impossible but I know nothing is impossible with God. Give me a "S". Give me a "P". etc. Too much folding to get through to complete the word, but I hope you get the hint that I might need some cheering on. Still reliant on affirmation.

Court House

I am always surprised by museums. I never, ever expect to enjoy them but, hey, they're like vitamins, aren't they? You might find it a bore but you insist the little vonerables get on board. And nearly every time, I find myself, begrudgingly, enjoying them. The museums. Never the vitamins. And lo and behold, the little vonerables like them too.

If you're in York with a spare 20 mins, duck into the old Court House. Beautifully restored and lots of interesting features for the little ones, including a toy room. Not sure how I feel about that one, but they must have their reasons. 

Right Now

Hearing: the drier...soundtrack to our winter

Smelling: enamel paint drying on a gift I'm painting for Killer

Tasting: coffee. Fifth for the day. (Relax: It's decaf)

Feeling: cold hands. I've been hearing about this amazing thing called circulation...

Reading: Postcards from Mars. Well, looking at the pictures. Mars is super boring. Sustaining life wouldn't be the only hurdle; preventing red-dirt-induced coma would pose quite a challenge too.

Remembering: some beautiful moments over the last couple of months, prompted by these iPhone shots. 

Anticipating: dinner out with Killer tonight 

Enjoying: Chatting at the Sky (thanks Jo!)

Staggered: at the speed with which the little vonerables can cover their floor with discarded clothing

 

  

Creek

Rivers are great. Handy for canoeing, fishing, swimming and, if you're my "do 7 extreme things each day" husband, bathing when you're camping and it's -10 degrees. But rivers will never call to me like creeks. They are never scary. Never too much. There are always little banks to explore, dams to build and leaf races to be had. Playing in creeks was one of the sweetest delights of my childhood. Some of them were just runoff on the side of the road and some were beautiful, year round, waterways on friend's farms, complete with joolgies, stepping stones and leeches. 

 

   

This one, near York, called me back while the others were off feeding Alpacas and sheep. It was quiet, twilight and it seemed like sprites might emerge from the shrubs. Do you have a favourite creek? What do you do there? I would love to see some photos if you link to your blog in the comments.

Also, thank you for the beautiful comments and emails on the last post. Gulp. I wrote it so quickly in the middle of writing an overdue piece for our organisation's newspaper that I couldn't even remember most of it. Sometimes I overthink and it's interesting to see what happens when I don't have time!

Lamb

In life we don’t get what we want, we get in life what we are. If we want more we have to be able to be more, in order to be more you have to face rejection. Farrah Gray

 

I have way more than my little toe in the fast flowing river of the 'possibility of rejection'! I'm running a course straight from my heart for women to understand their immeasurable worth in God, looking for work, telling more people about my blog and generally trying to push through that double brick wall that has the sign, "This is For Your Own Protection. Do Not Let Them In" in large print at eye level.

I did not get the job I interviewed for a couple of weeks ago. Okay, so I didn't really want it, but I would like to have been in the position to turn it down. Feeling a tiny bit rejected. I think my course is going well, but no one has said, "Von, this is absolutely changing my life and you were so right to put it out there". I am going to have to own my thoughts in the absence of affirmation. Scary stuff!! Feeling more than a tiny bit scared of rejection. 

But it scares me to stay behind that wall, too. What if there's something I can say that sets someone free, even just a little, from living behind their own wall? Maybe their wall has a sign that says, "Do Not Show Others Who You Really Are" or "You Are Unlovable". I want the chance to speak liberty and grace. Dismamtle walls.

I met up with an old friend recently who had the courage to publish a book of poems she wrote in the midst of a painful time. She was scared they might not be good enough. Scared to share something so personal. But she DID it. Her voice is true and her words are healing but she so easily could have listened more to her fear than her heart. 

Whatever you feel you are meant to be giving, decide to give without fear. Decide now that you will not be dissuaded if there is no applause. Give out of love and let the waves of panic rush right over you and away as you realise you can tolerate both silence and ovation. Silence is fine and an ovation is not necessary for you to know your gift was good. 

Of course, that little sermon was actually for me, but I would love it if it turned out that you were galvanized too. And if you were, I'd love to hear about it. I really do like applause. And, hey, if you tell me what it is you're nearly ready to unleash on the world, you just might do it!

I was motivated tonight by a fleeting conversation with my sis, Prunella, as she drove off. Part of her week will involve travelling to a reasonably unglamorous location to continue promoting her organisation, and her project. It's hard to keep saying, "Hi! I'm here. I'm nice. I want to work with you" when the people you need to engage with have reasons not to and you're constantly outside what is physically and emotionally comfortable. The thing is, blind Freddy could see Prunella is genuine and smart and absolutely able to deliver what she offers, but Prunella has to keep choosing to offer, even when her tolerance for rejection has been exceeded. To quote Kim Walker-Smith, one day she will live out of the fruit of this time; the perseverance will birth something wonderful for her and for the people she is working with. And there she is, up above, on the back of a ute, bumpy road, looking gorgeous and no doubt thinking, "Really, Von, must you photograph me with my scarf around my head?"