“Cousins are those childhood playmates who grow up to be forever friends…” – Unknown
Joining Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday
The excitement and buzz from today’s special morning tea event has extended itself into the glorious sun rays of the early afternoon.
It’s truly amazing what experiences we come across through blogging.
A little while ago, after having a casual chat about my blog and handing over a business card, an acquaintance (who I met through my running group last year) told me that she was planning to run for local council. She asked if I would be interested in helping her with the new media/marketing strategy side of her month long campaign.
Um, sure…why not ?
And while it’s all freelance and under voluntary basis, there have been a helluva lotta learnings.
Politics isn’t for everyone. Least of all me. First of all, we’ve only lived in our neighbourhood for 3 years. I didn’t know who was my mayor (let alone care) and as far as involvement with my council? Pfft.
I grumble at the unforgiving rules of the library that charged me a small fortune for overdue and subsequently, lost children’s books.
60 bucks for Maisy Mouse ?!! Seriously ??!
I get peeved off at the lack of parking facilities near our playgrounds as they’ve all been taken over by huge tourist buses offloading their over-eager (and overstaying) tourists.
Hey, I’m the resident…why don’t I get first dibs???
You know just little stuff. But ants-crawling-under-the-skin annoying.
In helping raise awareness of her independent party’s blog, Twitter and Facebook presence, I’ve grown to understand a whole range of issues that my friend’s passionately fight for, like the protection of local historical sites and better commuting and transport facilities.
She also wrote a powerful opinion piece in the SMH about the lack of representation and respect for women in local politics. (Well, seeing how our own Ms Prime Minister is treated, let’s agree it’s at federal level too).
The more I see, the more I’m inspired.
It’s been fascinating to not partake in the actual content creation, yet to be directly involved in how it’s disbursed throughout the immediate community.
Surprisingly, it seems that local politics does have the potential for your voice to be heard.
Okay, now that’s cool.
There is, however, one final confession. Having being asked to participate in something that’s (locally) extremely important has been a huge stroke to the ego (ahems).
It’s nice to have been given the trust; that my opinions and qualifications count in something as vital as someone’s representation in the public life.
She’s even introduced me to her peers and potential voters as the party’s Social Media Manager.
Hey, that’s even cooler.
At morning tea, one of the attendees came up and said, (insert pompous, posh voice) “Aren’t you her ‘web-site’ lady?”
Well, yes. Yes, I am.
Elections are on this Saturday and I know my friend’s tenacity will make sure she fights to the very end. As part of her campaigning team, I’m earnestly hoping voters will see that she’s the right person for the job.
And this is why I love blogging; the serendipity that can lead to a rare, exciting opportunity that you would have otherwise, never stumbled upon.
What unexpected adventures has blogging taken you on?
Joining Jess for IBOT
Last Sunday was the much anticipated City2Surf run.
It was my third race in a row but definitely the most memorable because I got to catch up with this lovely lady at the finish line…
No wonder I was a little starry eyed! Well done, Trish!
Joining in with the hostess herself for Wordless Wednedsay…
This is my third attempt at blogging. In a time span of (what will soon be) 2 years.
The first was I guess, just a trial run. Launched on a lack of sleep and even less creative flair, it’s title was as lame as a donkey’s leg. Hosted on WordPress, the first post was embarrassingly short, cryptic and terrible quality.
My main audience in this temporary cyber home was my husband and my mother-in-law (What was I thinking?). The rest who cared to read it were from my from my personal FB account, including ex-colleagues, distant friends, even far more estranged acquaintances. (Again, what was I thinking?)
Then, I went into the unknown world of self-hosting; commiting to my first ever .com.
I won’t go into too much detail regarding this second blog. Suffice to say, it died an untimely, unfortunate death.
While it was the little avenue that initially led me to the world of mummy bloggers, its sudden ending actually reaped many surprising rewards.
Over here in this place, the connections are deeper; opinions of others mean more.
The support is abundant and apparent; conversations have developed a natural flow.
In this corner of my world, the laughter is genuine; and when there’s tears, the emotion is palpable.
All the while, I’m completely overwhelmed by the magnitude of our ever growing on-line village.
I will shamefully confess, I had previously given less priority to all these elements of blogging.
And it’s probably why the last blog was snatched away from me. Maybe it was the Universe telling me I needed to discover the fundamentals first.
That beyond the climbing traffic stats and the eye catching media kits, it’s the strength of my community that holds this little blog together.
It’s taken 3 attempts to figure it all out.
I’m not going to berate myself over it. After all, I think as bloggers we inevitably evolve.
At whatever pace it needs to be, we learn, we grow, we gain strength.
As do the friendships we make along the way.
Joining in Jess for IBOT.
It’s taken on a new name and a slightly different logo but the Facebook Page Like lovin’ continues!
You guys oozed in love and support for each other last time, how could I not do it again?
Every fortnight, I’ll be opening up this link and keep it open for a week.
Here’s the important stuff:
1. Copy and paste your FB Fan Page URL and link it up below
2. If you can, please “Like” a fellow blogger’s page through your personal account. (For some bizzaro reason, the number of Likes on a fan page is only tallied from personal accounts).
3. For the love of bloggy karma, don’t link and dash! Reciprocate the FB Like love, ‘k?
* Not a deal breaker but how about giving a shout out to a new page you found ? Doesn’t cost much. Give tenfold, get hundred back, I say.
It has come to my attention that my FaceBook management skills are all over shop.
I’m sure I’m not completely reciprocating the fan page lovin’.
If your FaceBook page is one of those that’s missin’ out on some attention, come and link up.
I’m leaving it open for a week. I’m still undecided about whether I’ll do it regularly.
In any case, in the same fine tradition of FYBF, please don’t link and dash.
And make sure you hit “Like” from your personal account rather than your own blog page. Only personal accounts seem to be the ones that count.
Anyway, stick around, and spread some FB “Like”, ‘k?
I’m on your side,
When times get rough,
And friends just can’t be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down,
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down…
– Written and composed by Simon and Garfunkel
Linking up with Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday…
I realise that the majority of you guys probably aren’t even in your 30’s yet.
So, why do you need to see this vlog???
Cause it’s awesome. And being 40 is fabulous…heh.
(Oh, also because I don’t get to go out much…as you will see…)
Okay, let’s get this par-taaay happening and get flogging !!!
In our little jaunts to the local playgrounds, I’ve met some lovely mums. One lady in particular, who also has identical twins (girls) along with her eldest, a 4 year old, Miss P.
After much SMS ping pong and failed attempts to meet up, we finally managed to get together for an ANZAC Day BBQ.
Yeah, can you imagine ? 5 kids – a 4 year old girl and 2 sets of twins at the age of 2.
What were we thinking ???
But we had an awesome time especially as Miss P became firm friends with the twinlets.
The other day, we bumped into them at the playground. As if no time had past since the BBQ, all 5 children instantly played happily together. The entire time, Miss P – the ever protective older sister – not only paid close guarded attention on her twin siblings but also our boys.
When it was time to go, the boys kept waving to her while repeating, “Bai bai, P…Bai bai P…”
Knowing that they don’t do this for everybody, the extra effort in the goodbye was showing special affection for their friend.
Opening the gate for us to leave, I suddenly noticed Miss P chasing behind me. Unable to open the childproof lock, her little face was squashed against the steel bars, tears rolling down her eyes.
Only seconds earlier she was smiling away at the boys.
“Train…boy has them. The boys’ train…He won’t give it back…” she sobbed.
Completely confused, I couldn’t decipher what she was trying to tell me. Yet, I couldn’t disregard her genuine distress.
Miss P grabbed my hand and dragged me over to a group of mum and toddlers, where one little boy in particular was holding one of the twinlet’s toy trains.
Then, it all made sense.
I politely explained the situation to the boy’s mum, who in turn, gently persuaded her son to hand back the train.
While giving me a warm hug, I thanked Miss P for being so kind and thoughtful. Her sobs soon subsided.
This little girl’s deep concern for others touched me.
Wouldn’t it be something if we could always put our own interests aside to fight for what other’s hold sacred ?
Have an earnest intention to see others happier than ourselves, without judgement and assumptions.
A 4 year old inadvertently showed me that true humanity surpasses simple good will or mere selflessness.
It’s the courage to reach out and actively stop whatever hurts our neighbour. Not just our closest and dearest.
To know that it’s in our own capacity and potential to create a better, safer, more comfortable world for them.
It took a 4 year old to remind me.
Whether your own or someone else’s, what lessons of life have children taught you lately ?
Joining Jess and the gang for this week’s IBOT. See ya there…
“We feel that you’re no longer making a productive contribution to the company…”
Sitting on the edge of my seat, with only a large executive desk between us, the heart palpatations intensified. A nauseating feeling immediately followed.
There was an awkward silence with the obvious answer unspoken. It never occured that it would come to this heartless, harsh conversation. The difficult topic of job termination.
It was soon over. Shutting his office door firmly behind me and returning to my desk, the obliging tasks of tying loose business ends were completed swiftly and clinically.
“Just get it done and get out…just get it done and get OUT…”
It was the mantra in my head, keeping me focused.
Except for the annoying facade people make when one leaves a company after a gentle nudge, there was no emotion.
Until I got home.
I was relieved. I was pissed off. I was angry. I wept. I was scared.
The next morning was the first in awhile where it was entirely my own. No client meetings booked. No phone calls to make. It should have felt liberating. For once, I was no longer on auto-pilot.
Sitting in the sunroom, my mind started to contemplate the future plans. There were in fact plenty to look forward to – an imminent arrival of twins, a celebration of marriage.
But, still. When my career had been all-consuming, the thought of it taking a back seat or even being a non-existing priority, didn’t sit quite right in my mind.
And it felt that my worth – measured by all things corporate and business related – had been compromised.
Then the door bell rang. There was a flower delivery and I could only think that my ever thoughtful fiance had sent them to cheer me up.
Instead, among the arrangement of deep purple orchids, was a card from two colleagues.
No soppy messages or strained, polite words of condolences. Only a famous Shakespeare quote:
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.”
The message was not only timely but clever and poignant. My colleagues knew what happened was harsh and in many senses, unfair.
And while life is full of injustices, in this case there was no need for sympathy. Instead, the words filled with hope. Encouraging me that while the job is gone, what I was – and am still – capable of, still firmly sits here. Within me.
Skills, qualifications and experience are always transferrable. What’s crucial is how they’re presented in the next stage of life.
Remembering that where there is now an empty office desk,a legacy has been left behind; While corporate staff turnover feels like a rotating conveyer belt, certain peers and colleagues never forget important contributions you made; those long hours of overtime and dedication to meeting deadlines were all in preparation for bigger, tougher but far more rewarding challenges yet to come.
It’s hard to believe it’s almost been 3 years since those words arrived at my door.
There is still a juggle to find balance between domesticity and career. But there is also a quiet confidence. It’s only a matter of time and patience until the next exciting play is on. For those curtains to be drawn, to make my grand entrance in a new part.
Are you waiting behind the curtains for your next play to commence ? Or are you in the midst of one right now ?
Linking up with Jess at Diary of a SAHM for IBOT.