an oldie but a goodie
cartoon © 2009 Jean Burman
If ever verification was needed for the power of positive thinking… positive action… and the extreme benefits of taking the leaps of faith I have had to take over the past 14 months… I now have it.
Just climbing through 19,000 feet… [okay my love of flying is officially now legendary - say no more] I have been away for nearly four weeks. How did a week turn into four I wonder? I am now winging my way home to pack up and move south. I know I know… I said I wasn’t going anywhere for now… but the Universe apparently has other plans for me!
Funny how things happen when you let go… and say yes to pretty much everything [within reason of course]. I can’t begin to tell you how much my life has changed over the past year… and how many opportunities have come my way since I began saying yes to the Universe instead of fighting it every step of the way… which I’ve now realised is something I have pretty much done all of my life! [Grin]
And this especially includes saying yes to a whole range of opportunities and experiences that I might otherwise have thought were not for me. I’ve now learned not to do that… for things are rarely as they seem at first glance.
We all have limitless potential but first we have to get over our limiting beliefs to realise it. All I can say is…
TAKE THAT LEAP!
The only downside to this move [if ever there could be one] will be that I shall have to relinquish… for now… my beautiful tropical northern Australian location… my good friends [if they don't come visit! grin]… and life as I had re-invented it. But that’s okay for now.
Nothing is ever for nothing… and nothing is ever forever!
ahhh… I love this place… [insanely hot here at the moment tho]
What it does mean though is that for the time being I shall have a home on my own terms… and a definitive place from which to go forward. And the very best thing of all is that…for the first time in over a year … I shall have a dedicated creative space from which to work!
Oddly enough this one requirement has become more essential to me than breath… so urgent is my need to simply get on with the work at hand. My creative process has been the one sure thing that has sustained me throughout this transformational period of my life. And it’s this process that shall finally have my utmost priority over the next few months as I adjust to my new home.
At last I shall have somewhere to do what I love to do more than anything else in the whole wide world… when… where and however I want to do it.
Write. Paint. Create. Plan. Dream. Go forward… and move on.
It’s a sensational feeling… almost as exhilarating as those first few moments of flight! (((chuckles)))
With the stars aligned… and God willing… I may [at last] be the master of my own destiny and the architect of my own dreams.
I would have once said “I can’t wait”… but of course… I now know that I CAN [wait] and that now anything… absolutely anything… is possible.
The sky might be the limit.
But the Universe knows no such bounds!
Hope to see you all on the other side… watch this space for updates on my new space! Coming soon.
One last coffee – for now – at the Port Bookshop
[but I'll be back]
I drove up to Brisbane this morning from the coast to do a couple of things. One of them was to go to Eckersley’s Art Store to buy some art supplies… you know… paper paint charcoal etc. Can’t seem to go away for long without my art supplies. And if I find myself away from them for too long… I simply have to smoke out an art supply store and get my fix along the way!
I’m writing this from a little place called the Room With Roses. It’s a beautiful room in the middle of the city. A haven from the madness out in the street… and a quiet place to put down some thoughts.
[water not wine... remember it's lunchtime! grin]
I was just sitting here sipping my jasmine green tea and enjoying a yummy piece of passionfruit strawberry cream sponge cake and got to thinking about cake and life… and this is what I came up with.
PS I know… give me a piece of cake and I go and get all philosophical. Can’t help myself [chuckles]
PPS And yes… I know… it’s lunchtime… but hey… life is short… we eat cake first!
LIFE IS A PIECE OF CAKE
If life would be a piece of cake
with heart and soul and such to bake
the choice would be a simple one
We’d make it light and full of fun!
Strawberries cream and fruit of passion
pinkie poised… the height of fashion
we’d lift our teacup to our lips
and savour life in giant sips
If life would be a slice of pie
with pastry crisp and never dry
we’d slice it into giant bits
and let it go right to our hips!
Cherry pear or chocolate flute tin
No matter what the pie is baked in
We’d scratch our head in times to come
And wonder why we’d chosen… plum?
Just think…
If life would be a pie or cake
Oh what fun to negotiate
Imagine life upon a platter
Nothing else would really matter
So bake your cake and please don’t wait
there is no time to hesitate
then grab yourself a large cake knife
and enjoy right now your slice of life!
© 2010 Jean Burman
That’s what I just did anyway…. now I’m going out to walk around the block [probably more than a couple of times!] (((chuckles)))
Have a great Saturday everyone! Eat some cake!
I’m writing this from 35,000 feet. Can’t help myself I guess. I love to fly… and never miss an opportunity to go if I get the chance. In just over an hour the plane will be landing and my daughter and I will be on the road to Murwillumbah and our favourite breakfast place from last year.
Luffley’s is just “luffly” [grin]. In reality it’s ever so ordinary… but to me… it’s one of the special places and a little bit like my favourite coffee/book shop in Port Douglas… even though they’re a few thousand kilometres apart. Luffley’s make incredible Eggs Benedict and just thinking about it is making me hungry after the early 4am start!
No-where special [except to me]
It might be the altitude… but the timelessness of flying [and the emptiness of the tummy] turns my thoughts to the philosophical… and I cannot help but ponder the notion of favourite places… and what makes them so.
Is it really the Eggs Benedict that keeps bringing us back to those special places we all seem to have? Or is it the homemade banana and pineapple cake… or the exquisite aroma of coffee? Well yes… it might be all these things that elicit the desired olfactory response… but isn’t it something way more than that?
OMG Could this be Paris? in Murwillumbah
To me… being in a special place… eating… sharing time and table with people you love [and even sometimes just all by yourself] is a time-honoured ritual that human beings grow rich and textural from.
My mother used to say “you don’t feel at home until after your first meal in a new place” and I’ve always found this to be so. Or sometimes… it’s waking up in a new place… that creates that sense of human attachment.
But is it the place? Or the food? Or the people?
Or is it just us?
I think it is we [ourselves] who bring life to the favourite places… and only we who can do it. It is the human spirit and our attitude toward the place… that makes a house a home… or a favourite place somewhere great to return to.
Without the spiritual presence… a house is not a home… and a place is just a place. It’s the spirit that brings us back.
Oops… okay… gotta go the seatbelt sign just went on and the captain might need me to help land the plane. Grin.
Bye for now… see you all back on the ground!
“Dance like no one is watching.
Sing like no one is listening.
Love like you’ve never been hurt
and live like it’s heaven on Earth.”
— Mark Twain
To this end… I have recently been doing my utmost. But you know what? Lately I am learning that it’s often a case of “easier said than done”.
Let me tell you… people DO notice when you fall over on the dance floor. They DO hear you when you sing out of tune… even in the shower. You WILL get hurt along the way. And LIFE… you can be sure… often bears absolutely NO resemblance to heaven on earth!
Really sorry to break it to you Mr. Twain (((chuckles)))
But you know… despite the obvious risks… life CAN be a whole lot of fun. Even if you do sometimes get injured in the process.
Finally… after all these years… I am dancing again. And it is so much fun!
[Read about Living Life to the Hilt ]
After the first couple of classes… with burgeoning confidence… I decided it was about time to invest in a good pair of dancing shoes. Why?
1. To keep me motivated.
2. So I could try to achieve some of the fancy footwork demanded of a budding ballroom dancer [chuckles] on a slick and slippery dance floor without sliding over and hurting myself trying to attempt any/or all of the above in stilettos, sandals or joggers.
and lastly… [but not "leastly"]
3. Because I found a lovely pair of gold Pasodoble’s that I simply couldn’t resist.
You know… boys and their toys… girls and their shoes… [grin]
Besides… my thinking has always been that you should always arm yourself with the appropriate tools for the job in order to achieve the best results. [That's why we artists buy good brushes right?] Okay… it sounded like a plan. And so it was.
I bought the shoes.
Can’t tell you how pleased as punch I was with my purchase as I twirled around the floor… my beautiful new shoes carrying me hither and thither across the floor. But then… just when I was getting the hang of a step… and attempting to execute the perfect turn… those beautiful shoes all of a sudden got a mind of their own… went their separate ways… and I crashed down with an almighty wallop in an inglorious heap on the floor.
Fortunately I went straight down… crashing on one knee first then landing flat on my you know what… and not the alternative… [ie] flat on my back with my legs out from under me. A girl I guess… can be grateful for some such small mercies.
Oooo… ouch… now that hurt! In fact… everything hurt as I sat there in a crumpled heap shocked and unable to get up. [The last time I felt like that was a few years ago after hurtling down the driveway with my son on the back of the billy cart - read the story here]
Finally after what seemed like an age… and would have been less than a split second… someone [have not a clue who] hauled me to my feet and with the music still playing the dancing continued. Now that’s what I call professionalism (((chuckles))) And heck… what stamina. I quite surprised myself. Grin.
Later however… much later… my knee came up a beauty. A huge bruise the likes of which I had not seen since my days on the vigoro pitch in primary school. And my back hurt. But only just a tad. Ahem. Okay then… maybe just a tad more than a tad. At the end of the night I limped sheepishly to the door… my pride tucked neatly in my pocket…. got home… took some magnesium and lay down perfectly flat for the next eight hours (((chuckles))) Next day… all good. And so far… so good.
As for the shoes… well… they will live to dance another day. I took them straight into Theo’s Shoe Shop from whence they came and had the man rough up the soles on whatever the machine is that they “rough up” soles of shoes with there. I made sure that those beautiful shoes were going to stick like glue to the dance floor from that day on.
Now if only we could do that with people.
Life would be so easy. Grin.
