From pipe dream to reality

Mums in business are awesome. Driven, determined and hard-working. And I'm proud to be one of them.

This month I joined a Businessmums' Club with Motivating Mum. Along with a group of women running a diverse group businesses, from travel agencies (I totally dropped that one in so you can go and 'like' the Facebook page of one of my best friends in the world) to party printables, I talked about my goals for this year.

I thought I had it all sorted - my writing was a side thing and my business was my Human Resources work. It just sat like that in my brain: the corporate stuff was 'work' and the stuff I love was a 'hobby'.

When I started talking about my HR work, I stuttered and blundered my way through, aware that the faces looking back at me weren't reacting the way I thought they would. Was I being boring? Should I wrap it up? When I finished, the feedback was unanimous: they could see I was passionate about writing but pursuing HR work for reasons of safety and fear. And also, how was I planning on doing both with intensity, as well as looking after my daughter?

I knew they were right - it's what I'd suspected myself, especially as I sat there the night before writing instead of working out my 'business' goals. I had to choose which to pursue with everything I have - and I sure as hell wasn't going to give up my writing.

With their help, I started to see that my business is actually as a freelance writer.

What will it take? Alli asked me. 'Self-belief,' I said. And then I felt slightly sick.

I've had so many people talk to me about my writing, being incredibly generous with their time and advice. One successful freelancer gave me some straight-talking not long ago, and encouraged me to do the Sydney Writer's Centre's feature writing course. I did, and I loved it. (If you want Allison's career advice, you can have it too - she gives that same straight-talking perspective in her new book, Career Mums.)

But there was something holding me back. The ladies at the Businessmums' Club pinpointed it. And that sick feeling was the realisation that everyone else believes in me, and that I was too afraid to take that final step.

Me. I was the only one stopping myself.

I got home from the meeting to find the feedback from the last module of the online course. It was good, encouraging. I shrugged and I sent off two pitches to magazines. I received two rejections quickly - but they were nice ones, asking me to send more ideas through. Deep breath, and I sent more to them and to other publications.

I found myself published on Mamamia Travel - a huge step for me, writing about my passion. I've had two pipe dreams for most of my life: writing books and writing travel. This was the start of one.

Then I got a yes - a paid yes, something that in my mind solidified the fact that I can do this. I can actually make a career out of this, something I not only dreamed about, but that also works with my family.

Finally, I'm believing everyone - including you guys, who have always given me encouragement here on the blog! - and doing it.

My pipe dreams have found a home in reality - and it's a bloody wonderful reality, too.

On boredom and fears

Yesterday, I didn't know what to do with myself. So I went for a walk somewhere I'd never been and I played with the settings on my camera. I took this photo - it's not perfect, but I feel proud when I look at it.

I pinpointed it. What I've been running from, that is - what I'm afraid of.

I'd suspected it was something stereotypical: fear of being a failure or something. No, it isn't, and I felt a strange thrill at not being quite as predictable as I thought I was.

My biggest fear in life is being bored.

My definition of a boring life is one that's dangerously close to the one I'm living. It's probably the reason for a lot of things I've done over the last couple of years - trying to find a way to escape the boring life I was leading. And I suspect it's why I'm happier now: because I've scraped my way out of that life. Just.

I've never been good with reality. Although I'm not a head-in-the-clouds sort, I do love to escape in my own way, and doing the same things day in, day out drives me crazy. I love being organised, but living to a set routine makes me want to run away.

To me, boredom and reality live hand-in-hand. But here's the thing: my life is not dramatically different to how it's ever been. I haven't made any huge, amazing transformations - or at least, none that millions of people don't already do every day. The difference is in my mind.

When I can view life as something other than mundane, I can live it. So my secret, I've decided, is to keep my life as one that I want to live, rather than escape. Do the boring things minimally so that I have time for that life. Find ways to make it work. And most importantly, think of my life as one I'm excited about.

Really, there's no reason to ever be bored. Look at life in a certain light and you realise there is always something worthwhile to do, to learn or to take in. Always.

And she lived happily ever after, and was never bored again. That's how this story goes.

The 'crazy lady' post

Taking my girl on crazy adventures

I'm a bit crazy sometimes.

I'll dream up big ideas and make them possible in my head. It isn't unusual for Steve to arrive home from work to hear me say something like, 'Let's travel the world!' or 'Let's have a baby!' or 'I'm going to be a writer!'

I have huge moments of clarity, knowing exactly where I want to head and believing that it's all possible. The excitement is almost too much to bear, and it's the reason for many a sleepless night. Imagine that: life being so exciting it keeps you awake at night.

That's it right there. The holy grail of life.

My big ideas are the things that fill me with light, they take me far away from the fear and make life feel real. Make me feel real.

Then morning comes, bringing with it reality and doubt. Sensible Me returns: I couldn't possibly do that, there's no guarantee it will work, things are good as they are and I should just be happy with that, take the proven path. I can't do it.

The logical, sensible approach is the one that's had me living in fear of myself forever. I've been scared of my dreams, scared of voicing them, and I've pushed them aside for a long time. I listen to the logic and I throw away the craziness.

You know what? Living with self-doubt becomes very boring after a time. And I want that holy grail.

It's time to embrace the crazy.

Simple parenting

When Abbey was born, I was pretty relaxed about the whole thing (once the actual birth was over, that is, and I realised I wasn't actually going to die). I was in hospital for two nights and things went incredibly smoothly in that time: she fed perfectly straight away, she slept well, and I was comfortable handling her. (Want to hit me yet?) The nurses asked me jokingly every day, 'Are you sure you don't have other kids stashed away somewhere? You look like you've done this before.'

The first year went along like that - the exception being mastitis (the universe saved you the bother of hitting me, by doing it for you), and the screaming which preceded all daytime sleeps. I could see my baby was happy, healthy, growing and developing well, and I knew everything was okay. I trusted my instincts.

Sometime after she turned one, perhaps coinciding with the onset of tantrums and the like, I started to second guess everything. Was I saying the right thing? Being a good enough example to her? Should I have done that differently?

And slowly, over the last two years, I sent myself a little insane. With every question of myself, I got a little more down about life. It's exhausting, questioning every single little thing you do, day in and day out.

So, using my early parenting self as inspiration, I took the leap - to simpler parenting.

I'm now once again trusting in my instincts, and knowing that everything is okay. And it is - always has been. My little girl is the happiest, healthiest child ever. No amount of worrying or second-guessing is going to make her life better; her life is already just right.

It's a relief to let myself relax into my own style again.

My writing friend Karen, whose perspective always makes me think, sums it up perfectly in her latest post: "Perhaps our parental contributions have long been made (in the form of their genes), and our job is just to sit back and watch the story unfold, trying really hard not to second-guess the ending."

It's time to sit back and let our lives unravel.

At the end of the day

Sunset at William Creek - the middle of nowhere in the Australian desert

'At the end of the day'. I say that a lot.

She made personal comments about my lack of speedy reproduction and I got really angry, but at the end of the day it's her issue, not mine.

I regretted having that takeaway meal and I wish we'd eaten leftovers at home instead, but at the end of the day it doesn't really matter.

That kind of thing.

And so I sit here, at the actual end of a day, and I ponder the truth of that sentiment. I think about what matters to me right now, as I look back at my day.

What matters is that I woke up in my husband's arms. (It takes me a moment to remember that the time I woke was 3am, and that I never fell back into a deep sleep after that. Which could explain why I'm so tired now. But that part doesn't mean anything.)

What matters is that I spent an hour of my morning reading stories to my little girl. (It occurs to me that I had told her I was busy and she would have to wait a minute - but the important part is that I kept my promise.)

What matters is that I looked after myself - I walked, I ate well, I baked beautiful food and did things that made me feel good. (As I write this I'm eating my second serve of dessert, but I'm not worried about that.)

What matters is that our house looks like a good time was had in it today. (Which is code for 'it's messy in here'.)

What matters is that I enjoyed my day. (I didn't achieve anything in a tangible sense, but that's a secondary thought.)

That's it. At the end of a day, all that really counts are the big bits. It's true: the little things really don't matter.

Where I've been

I often try to defend myself when I change my mind, saying 'I'm not fickle!' But you know what? This year I'm going to own my fickleness - yes, just three days ago I said I'd be away from the blog for longer and today, here I am. Ah well.

I'm slowly trying to return to life (as opposed to holidays). It's easy to stay relaxed when you're not doing anything... learning to do things with balance is another ball game altogether.

So, baby steps. I thought I'd start by showing you what I've been up to over the holidays...

Santa came! And brought the scooter that Abbey tells me she has wanted
since she was a 'tiny baby'.

Holiday time! We went on a camping/4WDing trip to the Snowy Mountains -
and as you can see, Abbey didn't have much fun at all. Ahem.

I practiced my 4WDing - and drove across the mighty Murray!

We came home again, then visited the beautiful town of Walhalla
- the highlight for Abbey was the scenic train ride.

Fun family times!

And my girl took her first step towards water skiing - out on the back of
the boat on a 'biscuit'. The faster and bumpier it got, the more she laughed
and called out 'Woooooooo'! Such a daredevil, this one.

Have you had a great holiday season?

10 reasons I shouldn't be blogging

My break from blogging is going to be quite an extended one, it appears. For no other reason than I'm just enjoying this break.

Okay, maybe there are a few other reasons I'm better being offline right now...

• I'm focusing on some other writing goals, including trying to grow my freelance career
• A summer with minimal computer time is heaven
• Life is pretty full right now
• I want things to be simple for a while - and pretending I live in an almost technology-free world is helping
• When I do write it's more in notebooks while I'm on the go - and I love that
• To enjoy life for what it is, not for what is blogworthy
• To enjoy writing for what it is, not for what is blogworthy
• I'm in such a state of bliss that my blogging would be all sickly sweet and boring
• I'm sick of the sound of my own voice
• Because, as they say in the classics, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

I hope you're all enjoying a wonderful start to 2012 and I look forward to talking to you soon(ish)!