2018 and me

Okay, well as 2018 looms in less then 8 hours I can’t help but feel excited for the year thats ahead and unlike a fresh 18 year old’s Instagram post 2018 will not mean ‘a new year and a new me.”

2017 gave me a new home, new job(s), the love of my life and of course the best little dog in the world. Although, on an emotional basis it has given me relief, stability and for the first time in a long time a happiness that oozes from my body.

Before I go on to tell you about what my plans are for 2018 I feel like you need to know this – New Years resolutions aren’t the be all and end all, don’t set an expectation for a year, expectation killed the cat and it will kill your hope. Just ride the year out, acknowledge the way you are feeling and brace yourself for what lies ahead, whatever it may be.

2018 and me (and you) –

Be resilient – the worlds people say will not affect my sparkle anymore, nor should it dim yours. Take it to the chin, laugh and nod.

Do you – don’t waste time on people who aren’t willing to give it to you, don’t follow in friendships that drain the energy from your body. Do you, for you!  I mean this in the most unselfish, least arrogant way. You don’t want to go to the party? Don’t. You don’t want to take that new job? Don’t. You don’t feel like working late at night? Don’t. Focus on you, feed that body beautiful goods but most of all feed that mind beautiful thoughts.

Don’t expect happiness – We didn’t not evolve to be continually happy, what a strange and beautiful world it would be if that was a case. Remember that, remember it after a long day and your bones ache with tired movement and you just want to sleep, remember that when the tears seep from your eyes and make the heart bubble with pain. Remember this is life, learn the best ways to deal with it, but don’t expect constant happiness.

The apple falls far from the tree (I know I promised a blog post on this one, I am working on it!) – You see I am either being told I look like mum and dad, that the words that dribble from m mouth are sometimes too closely similar to that of my parents. While it has never bothered me and it shouldn’t bother you, it has dawned on me lately that I will be me and I can take the good bits from my parents, although I will not become clones of their being. Nick and I have been talking a lot lately about the way we grew up, all the good stuff! But it got me thinking, traditions start when you want them to, you can create the people you want to see in this world. So when my time comes and we are creating a family and they little personalities are absorbing everything I will remember this – Take the good and leave the bad.

Last but not least! This is the one I am going to be taking with me, I am gonna grip it with both hands and live by it.


2018 is a new year – remember everything that happened in the past happen


ed, you can’t change it but you can learn from it. Take 2018 as your ‘get out of 2017 jail free card’, anyone who holds you to it is cruel and if you let it play on your mind, your just as guilty of cruel behaviour.

There ya have it! What me and you can do in the New Year.

2017, thank you for being so kind to me, thank you for the lessons and the laughs. While it’s time to say goodbye you should know this, in the years to come I will be telling my children of 2017, the year I was a rural journalist, communications officer, project officer, the year I told the world about my battles, the year I met their father and the year Peggy fumbled into my home. The year their mum learnt that the beat in her chest was for so many reasons than to survive.25550287_342837876191039_7483234301488946965_n

Little lights in my heart

I want to run a theory by you, one I have been thinking about a lot lately. Have you heard the song? All the little lights by Passenger, if you haven’t I have attached it below for reference. As this is where the thought stems from, every time I hear the words it takes me into a drift of, ‘maybe this is true’.

Here is my version of the song and the way I have created it, in my overthinking head.

Maybe we are born with millions of little lights in our heart, obviously in a hypothetical sense. Pure to the world and when unfortunate things happen to us or that raw, obvious love disappears a little light turns off, until eventually all the little lights turn off along with our last breath.

These lights are the essence to our being, them going out takes away the good purity we were born with, maybe it comes back on when it is deserving.

While I have been trying to pin point when some of my internal twinkle of fairy lights went out and obviously, when others came back on. It  is a task I didn’t think I would be doing on my hour commute every day.

While it has seemed therapeutic this past week, re kindling essence from the past like an old pub light ”zapping’ in and out of consciousness bringing attention to it’s every move.

To everyone who knows I am a preacher of maintaining adolescence, alone. Without a lover. I didn’t really understand why until I was counting out the lights that went out within me in the years, while majority o them are to the fault of my own, as everyone’s are many could have been avoided.

(I will make note now to write my next blog post on the above, written and duly noted!)

A little light went off when I was 7 and the two people who are meant to teach you love failed.

One went out went out in room 354 English class at the age of 16 when a loud mouthed teenage girl told me she kissed my boyfriend.

One went out when I lied to my father, I told him the party was only small.

One went out with a sold sign at 1 Weramu Street, Tallangatta.

One went out at a lonely party in Eskdale.

One went out went out when dad got sick and the ambulance bells rang the local street and echoed even louder in my chest.

One went out when the doctor said my head was normal, though I don’t believe that light will ever come back on, I don’t really want it to. I hope a light of my best friends shined brighter the day I was given the clear.

That’s the goodness we see in people, after thinking about this I am constantly bathing in the light that others give off, feeling comfortable in their aura of goodness, empathy washing over me for the pain that must of of occurred to make some lights turn off.

Other people whose lights are so dim it’s hard to see the horizon, I wonder if their lights turned off on account of their own accord, or maybe they were just unfortunate in events.

But you see some people could have the entire being ripped from their physical world and still not let their light go out, I am in ore of those people who refuse to click a switch. Who carry on with a ‘ this is the way it is, don’t bring me down’ and stroll the local streets with an essence of beauty and a feeling of ore in their path.

Maybe it’s a good willed attempt at making people revive the bad doing in their actions and only do good.





While this post is not something I expected to be writing about, I suppose I better considering it has been one of the most emailed requests I have gotten and I am excited to write about it!

Why anti-depressants weren’t for me? A long winded question but I have a long winded answer.

Well where do I start? I have always been a bit of a hippy, perhaps it was growing up out of wedlock, maybe it was my father’s insistent ‘no Panadol unless it was hospital grade’ or maybe my mother’s whole foods approach to growing up. Whatever reason being behind my little inner hippy I have no idea, but I like it and it isn’t something I have attempted to shake when I grow up, it’s something I have embraced and tried to strengthen, alongside my essential oil smelling siblings.

But the no medical intervention that bestowed itself upon me, from me, was something I wanted to stand by. Although the day I walked into the doctor’s room at the age of 15 and cried my little heart out, begging for anything to take the pain away I would have taken it. If it wasn’t for my mothers, steady hand pressed upon my back. While the pain that sat in my heart thumped louder and louder with the thought of continuing with this pain and my head ached a heavy ‘give up’ I knew mum was right, that maybe, just maybe I was put on this earth to conquer pain and therefor become a better, more pain tolerant person.

I could rattle off all the different methods we attempted to fix my broken soul but first off, you need to know the pain did get too much for me at one stage and I decided to trail anti-depressants, of the weakest form, just to see if the highs were worth the chemical come down.

It wasn’t, that two-month trial was the closest I came to suicide, when the chemicals drained from my body at the end of a day, before I climbed into bed at night. It drained the essence of anything good I had left in me with it. All hope, all love and all desire to get better drained from the bottom of my feet, out the window and gone without a trace. In its place sat a darkness I hadn’t felt before, body weak, nausea set in and the darkness sat in my heart, weakening every beat with a ‘boom boom give up boom boom give up’. It was nearly like Bridie had left the room and in stepped a new version of myself, a version I never want to meet again.

When I give my speech in front of groups, without a doubt this question gets asked at the end. “Why didn’t you just try the antidepressants to see” and I explain the concepts of chemical imbalance within the brain and how that cannot be measured so there for substituting that with something you don’t even know is right can surely not be the way to a healthy mind. I had several tests and everything came back fine. My thyroid function and every blood test I underwent claimed I was in peak physical condition so why would I want to change that peak performance in order to give my brain a ‘giddy’ for a few hours. Instead I chose to make the mind beautiful, by myself. For it wasn’t my physical form that needed help, it was my head.

However, hypocritical me was on Levlen (the pill) since a ripe age, in order to attempt to control myself. I did to come off hormone control after my antidepressant trail, I went cold turkey I guess you could say.

It’s hard to say what actual helped in the end, I was doing so much at once to actually signal one thing out.

Although I do know after every kinesiology appointment I felt the darkness turn to light in tiny flickers, like a dodgy light bulb in an abandoned pub room, craving some tender loving care.

Over a week I would have a kinesiology appointment and a counselling session, while fortnightly I saw a naturopath and GP. Every morning consisted of 3 vitamin C, 1 vitamin D and 1 Saint John’s Wart, that changed as we discovered more about vitamins that help the mind and altered to suit.

My mother is the only nurse I know who would spend the day helping people with medical help than come home to have her kale smoothie and lather herself in hemp cream and a spoonful of apple cider vinegar. So she always saw the positives in holistic medicine and modern medicine. So don’t for a second believe that I was narrow minded about my beliefs.

I even wanted to get my brain zapped, I am not going to describe the process of brain zapping but feel free to look it up, some of the most vivid and horrific approaches to an unhealthy head, of course mum and dad refused to let that happen.

My dad was always under the belief that this emotional hurdle I was clambering was just part of growing up and like a high tide at night it would again return to its haven, away from my head. Parts of me wanted to believe that and other parts of me knew that what I was experiencing was not normal and disregarded his tough love approach but found comfort in his warm hugs and felt the empathy wash through him when he saw my tired eyes.

You see people were depression rates have risen tenfold over the last 10 years, alongside them suicide rates. While I knew that in the back of my mind, I knew antidepressants weren’t all they were said to be, if they were why were people still sad.

I won’t go into detail about every form of holistic medicine we attempted as not everyone wants to hear it, but I am more than happy to talk about it if you ask.

I remember the day everything I was working on seemed to shine, when I explained in a previous post about the day everything turned and I cut all my long hair like some symbolised Instagram model quoting ‘new hair new me’ and bathed in the love of the people who were willing to give it.

Sometimes I think maybe that was the problem all along and I should have never surrounded myself around negative people, maybe If I worked out who I was before devoting my time to any given person and only bathed in the love of my friends and family I wouldn’t have experienced depression, or maybe not as long anyway.

Too many people avoid the issue and make a permeant solution to a temporary problem. So I wanted to make sure I was fixed permanently and I wouldn’t have to take to a bottle of pills whenever a small wave of emotion washed over me, I have already withstood a tidal wave I can handle a wave.

So why I will continue to wear cotton underwear and use normal deodorant. That inner hippy within me will take her coconut oil and use that reusable coffee cup, because I owe it to that inner hippy, I owe her so damn much.

If anyone has any questions about alternative medicines or wants to know about all the different methods, I used feel free to message me.

If you see my mother or father walking down the street, make sure you give them a pat on the back for their constant ‘no antidepressant push’.

If you are feel sad, my dear the best is yet to come and that darkness will be oh so light once again, believe me I know.


You see there is something that has been running through my head lately, something I cant seem to shake and I cant understand why, well bits of why I can gather and I know where the seed of thought was planted.

The other day I was talking to my friend about Christmas traditions and, now that I don’t live with my family and I am well past the age of waking at 5 am to Santa’s presents on the end of my bed, followed by a rush to wake my sleeping and most defiantly hungover sisters.

This Christmas I will wake beside my partner and we will kick the day off, just us two.

So when this conversation continued she quizzed me about the excitedment I must be feeling that I am in charge of the running of Christmas withing four walls and that the home I create will be a basis for the family I will create,  now while that seems like an in depth thought to talk about and why it got me thinking about thinking before opening ones mouth I am still yet to work that out.

While I have been working on  a post  the apple falling far from this tree and at other times falling right at the trunk, within this post I will talk about it a lot in an evident approach to get to my point.

Something I need to be cautious of and something I am certainty practicing more of is thinking before I open, while this skill nearly needs a class when it comes to practicing after a bottle of wine and all that work gets thrown out the window after one class, I need to start mulling the words over in my head like a desperately busy bread machine needing and prepared the  fine baked bread.

This is why I am practicing this – everyone around you is listening to what you say, they want to learn and absorb your essence and bathe in your words like a 10 day camping trip with no hot water.

It’s true, I am constantly taking note of what people are saying, sifting it in my brain under, ‘good characteristic and life lesson’ and ‘no not for me and where I want to go’, even when I overhear people talk, I am under the understanding a lot of people do this, they sift through peoples words to create what they want to create and shape it in the way they wish.

Now when I was in school and I would go around to a friends after school I would watch how my friends behavior strongly resembled their parents  and that their makings into who they are have been molded by their parents, while some children are rebellions of the pack and these concepts don’t apply to their wayward nature it is still evident within home-lines.

Sometimes when I talk my mothers words come out, other times they are my fathers words bursting from my lips and lately I have been becoming more and more cautious of that ensuring I break from the bonds and become my own person and their views and mindfulness does not inflict upon the person I want to be and other things they say or do I take no and remember to use it when the opportunity arises, just like I do everyone I sift into my categories.

Those girls at school who looked upon their body with a ‘I am fat’ where makings of parents who said ‘I am fat’ and those boys who would call a girl fat are makings of parents who said ‘I am fat’ and this cycle of unintentional impulsive words have inflicted people around you with the belief that it is ok to think that and say that, now while it seems pretty far fetched the more you think about it and riddle those words from your mouth the more raw and true it seems.

Even when children are little and than grow up you will realise that the things you say come out of their mouth and your actions become your children’s.

I hated it, utterly hated it that girls in year 10 right beside me where so ashamed of the way they looked and if people thought before they spoke and that maybe those girls wouldn’t feel that way.

I am guilty of it, I was the biggest impulsive talker, constantly opening my mouth an wearing the consequences after and if I could take that time back I would. No one deserved to wear my judgement that I hadn’t fully mulled through, nor do they deserve to feel that way due to the words of someone who was yet to learn.

I remember things my mother said when I was 5, so you bet I will remember things that were said when I was 18.

So after my chat with a friend about Christmas traditions here is what I have learnt, my Santa presents will be left under the tree and not at the end of the bed, elf on a shelf will be a goer, local Christmas Carols will be attended and I will damn well think before I open my mouth and create children that will be sufficiently guided into doing the same.

I know they say the best parent is a parent with no children, which I guess is true, maybe when I have children my big mouth will be uncontrollable, but I will be damned if I don’t try.

Think before you speak, everyone is trying to be a better person, be a good influence.



Juxtaposition of emotion

Juxtaposition definition: the fact of two things being seen or placed close together with contrasting effect.

I read this post recently on Instagram, now while he is one of my all time favourite people I may seem a bit bias in my complete and utter passion towards every word he has written.

Dale Partridge took to social media with this ground breaking piece –

“Men, if your wife is breaking down it’s important to comfort her in the moment. But it’s not sufficient. A wife breaking down is a sign that you’re not paying attention to the days and weeks prior. While it might seem like our brides go from totally fine to totally not, it’s simply not true. Husbands, it’s our job to be a student of our wives. To recognize when she needs rest, to notice when she needs encouragement, and to sense when she needs romance. Attentiveness is one of the greatest ways to show your love for her. A Godly man will still fail from time to time. However, if the frequency of dramatic moments in your marriage isn’t decreasing then you’re not intentionally studying the woman in front of you.”

While his words were so utterly correct it automatically triggered a contrasting response within me, and here is why. An old colleague of mine, one of the most amazing women I have ever met once said to me ” I try not to get angry or tell people when what they have said hurt me, why should I? It is my fault I have that reaction not them, I shouldn’t make someone feel guilty for something they didn’t intentionally mean.”

I guess after I heard those words of hers I tired harder not to push good will upon people, in fact in takes a number of people to make the world go round. The loud, the honest, the rude and the nice and if it wasn’t for her words I would still be wondering why everyone can’t be dandy, but I also wondered if I was overacting upon every little offset I have ever had and if in fact I was a hypochondriac and take one hell of a chill pill on the push to only surround myself around people who make me feel good.

It is fair to say I didn’t take that chill pill and kept writing about it, in fact it probably made me write more, for no one should deserve to feel like someone else’s rudeness can b easily absorbed by everyone, because it cant and in fact we are all different, yes it takes a number of people to make the world go around but those people who are loud, should learn to be quiet, those people who are rude should know when to pipe down and those people who are nice are mean in some minor form.

That is what has got me here and if there is a few things I am sure about at the ‘mouldable’ age of 20, I never forgive people, I nearly almost always overact and I am far too emotional. But I am aware of that and I can work on that, just like people who are rude can learn when their words sting upon another or a loud person can tell when their presence is known. People change, well I hope they do.

Now while Dale’s post was about marriage and supporting a healthy marriage it still seemed to appeal with anyone in a relationship among the comments as well as people just wanting to make sense of their own head.

So those two juxtaposed ideas of how to handle emotion, not who is to blame but who is there to help and to recognise signs of someone else’s downward spiral. I guess I have always tried to palm off my feelings, I always wanted a reason to feel the way I have in the past. But I guess in the end it was solely me who felt that way and the reason why was again, on me.

This is where I have got to with them two ideas, you see emotions re triggered by a number of things and I do believe people need to know when they are affecting that, however overreaction is a fine line to be monitored.

I think the appeal to Dale’s post was more about having someone who knew you better than you know yourself, having someone who thought of you before themselves and the emotions you are having and because who wouldn’t love someone to understand what you are feeling and why, especially when you cant put a label on it yourself.

The appeal to my old colleagues comment was maybe we are in complete control of ourselves, maybe one day we can all climb upon the mountain we have been climbing and decide which way to head next.

Here is a Bridie Edwards middle ground of blame “You tell who you need to tell about what you want to tell, life is too short to carry emotion all on your own, if your lucky enough to find someone who knows you better than you know yourself than you ask them why and you ask them what you want to ask.”

If you haven’t already liked Dale Partridge on every form of social media I suggest you do.

Bird. x

Just because you give does not mean you receive

Happiness is funny, you can have all the happiness in the world but still have the ability to find something wrong, I haven’t found anything wrong but I do feel strongly about this post so excuse me if a biast opinion portrays itself upon my wording.

You gotta give a little to get a little, but do you really? Dad always tought me that if you go and make other people happy then you just might find a little piece of that happiness will rub off and in turn, make you happy. That’s true and everyone should have no stronger instinct than to make someone happy, although there comes a time when you expect something in return, now dad would tell me that is a selfish thought to have. That expectations are the killer of the minority.

Maybe that is why relationships fail? Because of expectations. I remember one night I was up having a conversation with my brother on the phone and he said five little words that linger in my head everyday “don’t expect anything from anyone” and I get that now, I half believe a key to happiness is learning to never expect anything in return, not because you are undeserving but because are humble within yourself.

And I will admit nearly everyday I have to remind myself not to expect anything, that just because I did something good does not make me deserving of something great.

When I say give some to get some  I am not talking about baked bread put upon ones doorstep but the whole hearted dedication of valuable time and unrecognised sympathy is put in an unasked situation.

I have always been like dad, got giddys off making other people happy, absolutely bathing in the moment of recognition for hard word. But lately it is like something has clicked inside me and I wonder if all that giving my father has given out will one day find itself back to him and lay itself upon his conscious and for once he may accept some back.

Or if in reality I do in fact give in the hope of return? Which I hope is not true for my guilty mind would not rest until I worked out why I hold expectations that don’t need to evolve.

So I guess that is what I am getting at, this world needs more Richard Ian Edwards, so than a cycle begins, people give and give and no one ever expects anything in return as they are already receiving those return benefits from other Richard Ian’s of the world.

Funny hah? That I can say that yet I am still trying to work out why I expect things.

I am still yet to work out if I am soley a Richard Ian of the world, but for my sake I hope the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you see I have been lucky in my life, I have recieved from the people around me.

There are two different definitions of success and the realisation that “I have made it”, well two that I believe – Some people judge it by their career and the objects and cash flow that floods their life, others judge it upon the contentment that settles upon their stomach causing a warm wash upon inner peace and a sigh of relief.

Give, give, give and then you give some more! That is the way this life should work. Want to be happy? Then dont expect anything.

Be a Richard Ian Edwards and give till you can’t possible give anymore, relish in the love receive from that giving and never expect anything in return.


Arnie and Stella

Today I stopped at a property for an interview about their sheep operation.

But truth be told,  I took nothing away about the objective selection of self-replacing Merino’s. Instead, I took away some wisdom, imparted to me by one of the most loved up couples I have encountered.

I walked into their home and was greeted with a pot of tea, homemade sausage rolls, and ginger nut cookies by Stella, she shuffled me into the kitchen and told me what youthful skin I have. I was told to make myself comfortable until her husband, Arnie, returns from fixing the tractor.

I sat down and talked away to the bubbly lady, answered her enormity of questions and drank my tea.

When Arnie walked in the mood changed, from good to incredible. He strolled through the door, was quick to shake my hand before kissing his wife on her grey hair, “whats on the menu today stella bella.”

The couple were more interested in telling me about their love story rather than their operation, I sat back and listened, bathing in their love, laughing at their stories and watching Arnie’s hand rest on top of Stella’s, for the entirety of the conversation.

The feeling was too good, you see lately I have been a walking shell of nothing. Certainly not feeling unloved, but feeling like the modern flashes of 2017 was intruding on my old fashioned soul. Maybe from lack of sleep or maybe I crave the presence of good hearted people, not striving for anything in particular but gripping to what makes their skin glow and heart beat. So when this couple offered me a conversation, not an everyday conversation but a true, heartfelt story about true love and ignoring societal impacts, I obliged.

They told me they’ve had a lot of fights before, that Arnie struggles with mental health issues and they nearly never agree on one thing, but every night before they go to bed they have a cup of tea and tell each other about their day.

When we went outside to grab a photo Arnie headed off first to get his working dogs and Stella and I strolled along, I asked her how after 50 years of married you aren’t sick of each other.

This was her reply-

“You fall in love with one person, only one person. People who say you fall in and out of love are wrong, you’ll know when it happens. We were lucky it happened in a time before mobile gadgets and alcohol fuelled sillies, we were left alone, on the farm together 7 days a week and I guess that made it easy, plus I love wine, maybe that helps.”

When I left they waved me off, arms around each other and I left feeling loved up, like a marshmallow that oozes sweetly filled insides after roasting above a fire.

I didn’t even make it to the front gate before I called Nick to tell him I love him.

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My dear, the best is yet to come.

In high school or even primary school there was always that glimpse of a feeling inside, where you knew life had to get better than this, that learning and spending every day with your friends is great but you were put on this planet to do something remarkable, you would hold that feeling inside and not dare tell anyone. Then that one uncle at a family reunion would pat you on a back with a “my dear don’t complain about school, you will miss it when you are older,” suffocating that little glimpse, with two educated hands, pushing that feeling deep down, until hopefully, you read what I am about to tell you.

I have now been out of school for two years and I am sorry dear uncle, you are completely and utterly wrong.

See so many people think paying bills and working is what is cruel in this world, that doing those simple tasks will give you a hankering to sit inside a class room and fill your mind with Pythagoras Theorem once again.


I don’t understand why people think that is a positive account of what happens when you leave school, I also don’t understand how someone would think those simple words will make you appreciate school and what is has to offer. That the pat on the back and your uncle’s useless words don’t double the pain you’re feeling. The only thing I can liken the feeling to is waiting to bungee jump, nerves making your bones rattle, heart race and vomit rise to your throat, then someone saying “Don’t be nervous”, useless! While some may think they are comforting, it’s useless. Tell the truth, “You will jump off this bridge, it will be the most terrifying thing that will happen to your body because you are defying everything your body naturally craves, but the adrenaline and feeling of accomplishment will be worth it.”

By all means value school, relish in it, every class you sit in you should be highlighting and jotting, filling that growing mind with goodness given to you by a passionate teacher. Your recess and lunch should be filled with friends and laughter and a “who kissed who” and a kick of the football, enjoy that!

But don’t believe that if you can’t pass biology your dreams of a scientist are gone, don’t let the pressure gurgle in your stomach every night like a hungry beast. Work hard, but be a kid. My father was always a preacher of “homework can wait it is family time now”, my mother was always a preacher in “you do what classes you love, not what you are told to.”

There are ways around getting a career and I think you will find life will step in at the right time and push you in the direction you need anyway. Take it from someone who was told in 7th-grade I was reading and writing at a 4th-grade level and they think my class choice should consist of sport type activities to match what I am ‘good’ at, now a rural journalist, who still hates running.

You see what no one tells you is this –

The people who have said those words to you, that it doesn’t get better, are bitter. I don’t know why they are bitter, but they have to be in order to believe life isn’t wonderful in the outside world. Yes, you have it easy, coming home to an afternoon tea and not having to pay for Sunday roast, nor are you expected to cook it. But you also have it hard, that those hormones and pimples suck,  that not being taken seriously sucks even more, I get that. But the outside world is scary, every day you are faced with something or someone who tests your boundaries, but you alter and continue. You see you work and you build a positive image, you are in charge of that beautiful future you have in front of you. You want to be a doctor? You can. You want to be a mum? You can. You see every decision once you leave school is solely yours, well it should be yours. Make the rights ones and make positive ones. I emphasise making them positive ones, so when you are the aunt at a family reunion and the studying relative comes to you with a general “exams suck” comment, you reply with “my dear, it gets better.”

You will want to come home, you will crave your mums homemade cooking and the smell of freshly washed sheets but you will not miss hard plastic chairs and the smell of fluro highlighters. You will crave providing those meals and that fresh sheets smell you, every day you will slowly alter and grow without even knowing, you will become prodigies of influential people you had growing up.

Don’t get me wrong, a day off would be nice. However, I would rather take this than that classroom any day.

So for all of you sitting in a class room, wondering if life truly does get better. My dear, it gets 100x better. hold in, study hard, you’re just a caterpillar about to turn into a butterfly, just you wait. Face school with a biro in one hand and a journal filled with future dreams in the other.

My father would always say ” I am the father and you are the child,”  sorry dad, but at times, I did truly know best.  Everyone who is a kid may carry the heart and head of future wisdom, remember that when your daughter or son are laying their thoughts to you over dinner. Adults don’t know everything, your sensitive soul believes that, I believe that.

Homework can wait, your horses can’t. Your math’s exam you failed, just take it on the chin and try harder next time. You will get there, Albert Einstein once wrote “Everyone is a genius. But if you judged a fish on its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing it is stupid.”

Be change makers, be exceptional individuals, do what makes you happy and not whats recommended and most of all don’t be bitter.

Bird x

The tide

I got in my old car the other day, the smell filled my body with a time that has long gone. I breathed in and played the first song from the CD that has been in there since September last year.

I wondered if all the steps I’ve taken to get me to where I now were worth it.
This time last year I had not a worry in the world, my nights were filled with spontaneous antics and my days of doodling on paper in a classroom. I’ve always craved routine, the hollow 9-5 days, the routine would be nice just once. From living between two houses at the age of 7 to school holidays visiting one or several of my 9 siblings sprawled across Australia, I guess routine was never something that bestowed itself upon me like a crown to the next in line of the throne. Although I never complained, back then a lack of routine was heralded as popular to my peers living in their 4 child, smitten parents, perfect homes. So I wore that uncommon habit with pride, still, to this day I would not change it.
Maybe every step I’ve taken over the past year was compulsory for personal growth, maybe I’ll wake up in the morning and a new path will be open, embedded with the possibility of routine. Or maybe I’ll wake in the morning and it’ll be just another day and routine is a thing well and truly in the distance. Although I do know this, since those long carefree uni days, the path that opened for me was the right one. That moment sitting in my car, Passengers sweet music filling its interior and the dust collecting in the ashtray, that moment was one of the only I’d felt routine closing in. Like a wave washing onto your feet than shrinking away, a tiny taste of the next wave to come as the tide moves in.
I will become the person I have to and I am in fact doing that.

But for right now the car can sit in the shed and wait, wait for the next door to open.



Lil bird x


Procrastinate or Vaccinate

Argh so this post is about the good old vaccination debate that has been going on for a large ol’ hunk of my life.

Writing about this was triggered when my friend recently had a baby and proudly announced on Facebook prior to birth that she would much encourage no visitors until her little cherub had had her six-week-old whooping cough injection UNLESS you yourself have had the injection. Now you see it didn’t bother me that I wasn’t able to visit that little ball of cuteness right away or that my friend had made this brave decision to do her best to keep her girl safe.

My family, well my parents don’t believe in vaccinations. I haven’t been pinned with the eye of needle reassuring me I would live a long and ill free life, not one vaccination has touched my skin.  Needless to say, I also haven’t had any serious diseases. Tetanus? Nope! Whooping cough? Nope! But I tell you what I have had- a cold, pneumonia, chickenpox, Q-Fever and every other so called flu or illness that passes through the Australian household that I guess could have been prevented with a vaccination. I survived and now it’s safe to say all nine of my siblings are happy and healthy and so are their children.

As far as I know, some of my sisters and brothers didn’t take on my parent’s alternative health practices. Some of my nieces and nephews have had the jab and others haven’t, some seem to get the flu every time the weather drops below the normal and others never have a funny nose, I can say we have had school sores, parvo, flu after flu and several other infections that are bound to get passed when kids are confined to a small room with 30 other kids all fighting over one tractor toy. The vaccination debate isn’t something we usually don’t talk about at family Friday, I guess none of us would ever judge the other for choosing to do what they believe is right for their children’s health.

My mother, a nurse herself who spends her spare time preaching the benefits of coconut oil and other natural resources. Not a hippy at all, just a preacher of remedies given to us in a natural form, I must thank her for her constant health tricks that have gotten us through most illnesses. let me tell you

Let me tell you this, there was a free flu vaccination campaign that riddles many work places at the start of winter this year, I considered it. I weighed up the pros and cons and much to my disgust the only con was my utter hate for needles. So there I was big and brave sitting in my office chair waiting for my vaccination at 4 pm when my workmate came in, nose red and running, eyes drooping and a body that looked like it had been riddled with pain. After he confessed he got the free vaccination last week and now was the sickest he’d ever been.

Needless to say, I bailed.

I know the old saying “things have to get worse before they get better”, what a load of utter poop that saying is. Things should not have to get worse before they get better, if I have a sore back I am not going to go out and do handstands in the hope it will get worse all for it to get better, no! I am going to rest it and it will get better. Things get better gradually! I shouldn’t have to have a cold in a bid to hopefully not get a cold in the future.

That was the only time I really felt that utter pressure rise up within me when outlined within symptoms is “you may experience symptoms of a flu” because like that would make me say “Oh brilliant I will take this flu vaccination to get the flu, just what I wanted!”. Maybe it was my father’s stubborn nature that rose above that day or maybe it was years of my mother’s subtle “vaccinations are silly” talks. Whatever it was I don’t mind because I still haven’t been sick this year, not even a runny nose, touch wood.

So what about my future babies you ask?

I haven’t decided what I will do with my children yet, whether I will choose to vaccinate or maybe just vaccinate the major vaccines. I did seem to inherit my mother’s pure hate for plastics and synthetic materials when parenting, but whether I gained her vaccination loathe I am not sure yet. Along with that thought lay within me the reality that this world has become rather a minefield for infections and serious illness, only becoming more common amongst children.

I do know this however, my kids will be in the dirt more than they are on carpet. Their little hands will be dirty and kisses will be planted across their red cheeks more often they would like. Germs will be around, runny noses will be a common occurrence I am sure, but with that their immunity will grow – vaccine or not.

I don’t mind if you want to vaccinate your children or yourself, you do wneedle.jpghat you believe will make you healthy, all I do ask is you stop the slamming of people who choose not to.

I will update you all when I am older if I have since gone under with any major illness following the lack of medical grade substances running through my body, however, I don’t like your chances I am feeling pretty damn fine.