To say I had a near-death experience two nights ago is a tad melodramatic and entirely inaccurate. But for a few moments, I wasn’t sure.

It all started with the nose piercing I recently got. It came out when I clumsily swiped it during the ritual clean before bed. Not thinking anything of it, I tried to put it back in.

I felt a little woozy.

I put my head between my legs to steady myself. Then once I felt okay, I resumed the task of getting the stud back into my nose.

I don’t really know what happened after that.

I remember a collection of really random thoughts running through my head.

I was on the floor.

I had no idea where I was, who I was, or what was going on.

Eventually I could utter “I’m not feeling too well”.

Moments later, as I lay motionless on the floor, pieces of my life creeping back into my consciousness, I realised there was no-one to hear me.

I was utterly and completely alone.

How many days would it take for someone to find me? Would I die here on the floor alone?

My heart feels ripped out of my chest as I imagine this might have been the same thought to run through my dad’s mind when he died from a heart attack alone in his house. Agony.

Eventually I realised I had fainted.

It had happened before. Blood tests have caused it. Too much sun and pot and alcohol at a music festival have done it. Apparently low blood pressure and a lack of iron make it relatively easy for it to happen.

As I tried to sit up, the effect of the episode was enough for me to feel really ill. I had gained enough lucidity though to realise I didn’t want to vomit directly on the kitchen floor, so I scrambled to the nearest cupboard to pull out a bowl.

And as I sat on the kitchen floor, vomiting into the bowl, I was so acutely aware of how very alone I was in my little forest home.

Now before you start to feel too sorry for me, I was eventually able to call one of my fellow forest dwellers. I told her what had happened and that I was going to bed to recover, and asked could she please call me in the morning to make sure I had lived through the night. Of course she offered to come over and of course being the strong and independent woman that I am, I declined.

So what now?

Physically I still feel a little ‘not-completely-right-but-it’s-nothing-really-to-worry-about”.

Emotionally, I am in shock.

The memory of me lying on the wooden floor boards and recalling that moment of realisation that there was no-one around to hear my whimpers, still brings tears to my eyes.

It’s one of humanity’s greatest fears isn’t it? Aloneness. That separation we feel as individuals in human bodies and our eternal search to fill that void so we don’t feel so empty and alone and separate.

I have always been so fiercely independent. I don’t need anybody! I can do it all by myself. I can cope. I can do anything.

This dogmatic determination to prove to the world I can stand on my own two feet has seen me survive over a year in relative isolation in The Forest.

This determination has come crumbling down these past couple of days.

I really need you.

You my friend. You my family member. You my reader. You my colleague.

I need you all.

And I don’t just need to connect with you. I need to lean on you. To feel vulnerable. To have you wrap your arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay. That things are going to work out. That it’s okay not to have all the answers.

This is new to me; this open display of what my mind thinks is weakness. I’ve fought my whole life not to appear weak. But to what end?

So I have rearranged my plans for this weekend and asked for help. I am packing my bags and heading to friends in the city. Friends who have always said I can call them when I need them. Friends who won’t judge me as weak, or stupid, or silly.

Friends who I am so lucky to call my friends.

I just don’t want to be alone for the moment. So I don’t have to make my own cups of tea. Or drive myself to my blood tests. Or sit alone on the couch while I recover.

I have realised its okay to reach out. To say what I need. To let others know of my tears.

This doesn’t make me weak, it makes me human. This adds to the total richness of my life experience to connect with those around me in this new way. To be the one to receive help, rather than the one dishing it out.

So who do you need to reach out to? Perhaps you need to ask for help yourself. Or perhaps someone close to you needs it but isn’t able to say the words themselves.

Don’t delay. Pop over for a visit. Make the phone call. Send the email. Update facebook or twitter. Reach out. Let’s connect. Let’s share our humanness and help each other through our journeys.

We’re in this together. I see that so clearly now.

If this is true, how can success and happiness co-exist?

Is there a difference between doing something we don’t want to do because it makes us feel anxious or it’s boring or it requires energy and effort, to doing something that doesn’t resonate with our core essence/truth/soul?

How do we know the difference?

This has been an interesting conversation in my head lately.

Particularly as I watch myself procrastinate the shit out of completing my studies.

It’s as though I have to drag myself kicking and screaming through the last remaining modules of this course.

A course I have been doing for twelve months.

A course where most of the work has already been done.

A course I could have finished months ago.

A course I wished I had finished months ago.

So what’s my problem?

Albert Gray wrote a speech about his search for the common denominator of successful people. His discovery?

“Successful people formed the habit of doing things that failures don’t like to do”.

Now I just need to say here that the use of the word ‘successes and failures’ makes me cringe. I am a believer that it’s all a journey, so things that may be considered as ‘failings’ are more learning opportunities in my warm’n’fuzzy world.

But for theoretical sake, let’s consider success as destination A – that place we want to get to, whatever that looks like to us.

For me at the moment, success will be completing my god damn course.

According to Mr Gray, to be a success I need to form the habit of study, when what I really want to do is read interesting blog posts, communicate on twitter, chat to my friends, sit in the sunshine and read a book, scour second hand stores and markets, or daydream on the couch.

I am willing to admit that I suck at forming this habit.

Not a spare day goes by in my life that I don’t say “I have to study”.

And most of those days, I don’t.

I start out with great intentions. But I notoriously get side tracked with shiny, glittering things that seem soooooo much more interesting and important.

It’s not the course’s fault. The materials are awesome.

My jubilant feelings and exclamation of “I love this stuff!” are enough to convince me that this course really resonates with me.

I love the ideology of life coaching; the belief that everyone has all the answers within them, and it’s just a process of uncovering them.

So I definitely think my disdain for this course has been prompted by how much effort it’s taking to cross the finish line.

Which brings me to the realisation that Mr Gray may have been onto something.

The fact is, there a whole array of things that we don’t like to do, or when it comes to the crunch, we would rather put off to another day because we’ve just gotten tired or side tracked or bored with the task.

According to Mr Gray, success is actually “unnatural” and not to be achieved by following our natural likes and dislikes nor be guided by our natural preferences and prejudices because most of us will naturally choose to feel ‘comfortable’ and comfortable doesn’t push us into doing the things we don’t want to do.

After witnessing this first hand with my lack of determination to complete my studies, I’d have to agree with him.

So how do successful people push themselves into doing the things they don’t want to do?

Or more importantly, how can I push myself into completing this course?

Another snippet of Grey wisdom to help me understand:

“Successful people are influenced by the desire for pleasing results. Failures are influenced by the desire for pleasing methods and are inclined to be satisfied with such results as can be obtained by doing things they like to do”.

Ahhh, so the pleasing method of indulging my whims on a weekend is the cause of my current ‘learning opportunity’.

So to become one of those successful people, I need to cultivate enough of a passion for the pleasing result of finishing this course – strong enough to make me form the habit of doing the things I don’t actually want to do in order to accomplish this purpose.

My desire to finish this course and what it will mean to me has got to be big enough to drive that passion in me for the result.

It makes me think of all the things I’ve missed out because I haven’t been passionate enough about the end result to push through when it starts to feel hard:

-          The fitness goals in the past because I gave up on training

-          The health goals because I gave up monitoring what foods I put in my body

-          The financial goals because I couldn’t be bothered saving anymore

I am sure we’ve all got our string of “shoulda, coulda, woulda” in our lives based on this same failing; that we give up pushing ourselves through the tasks when we don’t feel like doing them.

So what would success look like?

For me, it’s sitting down each morning and opening my study books and doing the assessments.

Success might be dragging yourself out of bed when the alarm goes off an hour earlier in the morning to get to the gym/pool/jogging/yoga to help you reach your fitness goal, rather than ignoring the alarm and rolling over back to sleep.

Or organising your taxes. Putting money into your savings account.

Or having the difficult meeting with your staff member that has been late three times this week.

Consider even on just a local scale, success at keeping a house in order means doing some things we don’t necessarily want to do.

I don’t particularly care about cleaning my toilet, dusting the bedroom, weeding the garden, doing the dishes.

I can imagine as a parent it’s cleaning up vomit, changing nappies, dealing with wet beds, discussing safe sex with your teenager. All things that perhaps you would prefer not to spend your time on, but things that constitute successful parenting nevertheless.

And that brings up a point.

Why is that many of us are willing to do those small things because we feel enough passion about the result (the clean house and clothes, a tidy front garden, decent looking kids), but we don’t get passionate enough to create the results of a completely satisfying and fun life?

Why will we put off resigning?

Or put off the overseas trip we’ve been dreaming about?

Or avoid signing up to that course we’ve always wanted to learn?

Or procrastinate on doing the next thing needed to grow our business?

Grey has his own takes on this: it is easier to adjust ourselves to the hardships of poor living, than adjust ourselves to the hardships of making a better one.

I realise that forming this habit of success is going to take some effort.

It’s going to feel uncomfortable.

I love that my newfound internet friend, Slackermom, spoke about this very thing when tackling the #2500 word challenge. She so eloquently describes that moment when you know you made a promise to yourself to complete something, and despite all the uncomfortable feelings, pushing yourself and following through.

So I’m on a mission. To push through my habitual levels of comfort and follow through to success.

I will study and complete my course.

I will train and complete my first 10km race in two weeks.

I will write the required number of words in the creative #2500 word challenge.

What about you? Do you have to do things you don’t want to do in order to accomplish things you want? Tell me about your experiences and thoughts in the comments!

I recently had one of those days.

You know the ones.

The kind of day when everything seems to go wrong.

When nothing seems to flow smoothly or easily.

You are tripped up, tripped over and tripped out…

I forgot I had to scan my acceptance letter for impending new job and deal with the broken scanner before a midday appointment, putting me in a rush to get everything done in the morning.

I tripped with my laptop in my hand and dropped it, sending shards of its case flying upon impact with the hard wooden floorboards, as I carried it to the phone.

I then spent an unsuccessful half hour trying to connect to Lexmark technical support to get help with my printer that refuses to download the apparently very necessary “application list” in order for me to scan. It seems the only department in the Philippines call centre that could help me had problems with its phone lines, which meant I was disconnected rather inconveniently only after I had waited in queue for them. This happened three times before I realised I didn’t have time to continue the attempts.

I spilled my water bottle on the rug as I was leaving the house.

Upon starting the car, the petrol tank light flashed bright amber to highlight my deficiency in remembering to fill it up the day before.

The appointment I had turned out to be an actual interview, which was something I only discovered near the end of the conversation. So rather than it being a “meet’n’greet to finalise the appointment of some casual contracting” it was actually a “we’ve narrowed it down to two candidates and we’ll call you”.

The friend I met up with for coffee was so consumed in her own stuff that she couldn’t even to pretend to care about what I had to say.

When I eventually got home, I left my soup on too long and boiled it dried.

Like I said, it was just one of those days.

So how do we make it through these days without kicking the dog, screaming at the kids (I can imagine that could happen if you had them), driving like a maniac, and generally having a mini-emotional meltdown?

I’ve realised it comes down to how big a catastrophe we choose to view all the little occurrences during our days.

For example:

- Forgetting important scanning job:

Catastrophe: faark! I’m never going to get everything done in time. Why did I have to open Twitter before looking at my “to-do list”. God, I am such a loser – who forgets they had to scan their acceptance letter for their new job and instead lazes around in her pjyama’s for hours browsing the Internet!? My new employers are going to think I am the most disorganised, unreliable person.

Non-catastrophe: okay, it makes sense I would forget to look at my to-do list; it’s only the second day in over a year that I have written one. It will be interesting when I start work next week and I don’t have a luxurious 24 hours available to me at home to get everything done. I am sure there is another solution to me scanning the document if I don’t get it sorted this morning.

- Dropping expensive, fragile equipment on hard surfaces

Catastrophe: OMG, what if it doesn’t turn back on again!? I totally can’t afford to buy a new one right now. I am sure something is going to go wrong with it. My last laptop died because I wasn’t careful with it. I’m such a klutz.

Non-catastrophe: you know what, these things are pretty sturdy, and I am lucky it landed slightly on the corner of the rug. Could have been worse. I have also been thinking how nice it would be to become one of those always-happier-than-pc Mac users. I am so pleased I accepted all those generous credit card limit increases the bank always offered me when I paid it off in time – I know there is more than enough room to put a new computer on it.

* note – computer still works fine despite my abuse!

- Being completely unsuccessful in resolving printer problems

Catastrophe: I knew I shouldn’t have expected to get a resolution to this problem – this bloody printer has never worked properly. And don’t even get me started on international call centres – they’re so painful to deal with. I guess I should just completely write the money off that I paid for this printer.

Non-catastrophe: Remember how helpful the HP international call centre was when I had problems with my laptop? They solved my problem better than the American HP centre. And if I wasn’t in such a rush, I wouldn’t mind emailing them with my enquiry instead and waiting for a response. I think the printer is still under warranty too, so if I really want to, I can arrange to return it and buy a Canon.

- Spilling water

Catastrophe: Well that is just bloody typical isn’t it! Just as I am rushing out the door, finally with everything in order to get to this appointment, I knock over my drink bottle. Sheesh!

Non-catastrophe: It’s just water. Thank god it wasn’t my left over cuppa from earlier. I’ll just throw a tea towel over it and i’ll be dry before I get home. No use crying over spilt water.

- Empty petrol tank

Catastrophe: I am such a moron for not filling up petrol yesterday when the light first appeared and I had the time. What made me think I would have time today with all these things to do!? I’m never gonna make it all the way to Byron on this tank.

Non-catastrophe: I remember driving over 50km in the desert with that amber light flashing, I am sooooo gonna make it to Byron with it on empty.

- The appointment that was actually an interview

Catastrophe: wtf!? How could such a miscommunication occur, I mean helloooo, big difference between coming in to make sure we click before a contract gig as opposed to being interviewed for a position. God, what would I have done/said differently if I knew this gig wasn’t already mine?

Non-catastrophe: I can see how the error occurred; I made an assumption because the assistant who made the appointment didn’t use the word “interview”.  Judging how I handled myself in my last interview, I wouldn’t have done anything differently. I am naturally bubbling and talkative and open. If they don’t want me based on the full disclosure of all that is fabulous and infectious about me, then that’s fine. I also know I never have to worry about missing out on things that are meant for me. So if it’s meant to be, I’ll get the job.

- Absent friend

Catastrophe: god I miss my Brisbane friends. I just haven’t found many people in this area that I really click with. Maybe I should think about moving back to Brisbane, so I can be around my friends again.

*note: this is proof that my catastrophic voice here is not my real voice…I would never consider moving from The Forest, no matter how few friends I have here!

Non-catastrophe: I know she is going through a rough patch, so I totally get why she isn’t that interested in hearing how great my life is right now. I have had so many moments of great connection in the past and I know her heart is so firmly in the right place. She’ll get through this and be happy to engage with me again soon enough.

- Burning dinner

Catastrophe: seriously, after all that has gone on today, I can’t even get through making dinner without ruining it!? I don’t even have the energy to make something new. It’s all because I am on this stupid anti-sugar diet that refuses me even ready-made stock, which was the reason I was boiling it so much. Screw this day for a joke!

Non-catastrophe: I think I caught it right in time before the burnt taste permeated everything in the saucepan. I reckon I can salvage pieces of the remainder and creatively make a “super soft vegetables and fish” arrangement. I actually think the burnt bits give it extra flavour.

Let’s be honest, that ever so critical, judgemental voice in our head is always there just waiting to jump on the catastrophe bandwagon and consume us with its negativity, drama and internal abuse.

I have definitely fallen victim to catastrophising my day’s events in the past. I use to emotionally react and turn them into a big deal.

I would be left feeling depleted, upset, unappreciated, depressed; like an absolute train wreck after battling my way through the day.

So how do I make the non-catastrophic voice in my head speak louder?

Practice.

I have practiced taking a breath and asking myself “is this really such a big deal?”

The answer is most often, “no”.

I also choose to believe that people/the world/the Universe/life is not out to get me, make things difficult for me, or trying to ruin my life.

I choose to believe that it’s not my fault. Or anyone’s fault in fact.

I choose to think that perhaps stuff like this just happens.

I choose to believe the real beauty that lies in self-mastery is when we can smile and chuckle our way through all those moments that previously may have frazzled our nerves or made us cry.

I choose peace.

Peace with what is. Peace with what has occurred. Peace within myself.

So how do you cope with those random, chaotic, little events that occur? What tips do you have that help you breeze through them?

I came across an email from a few years ago.

I was searching for my mum’s pumpkin soup recipe and somehow found an old email from a school friend. Says a lot for the apparent “organised” filing of my inbox.

It was an email thread that transported me back to my life in 2006.

At the time I was selling my house, tackling a Masters course, on the verge of exiting the full-time working caper, entangled in an on-again-off-again-aint-no-hope-of-really-going-anywhere relationship, drinking myself silly with friends, financially strapped waiting impatiently for said house sale, and dreaming of future possibilities with that expectant feeling that something big was about to happen.

What struck me the most was the hyperactive tone of my email reply.

“Could Mandie be abusing amphetamines?” would have been a completely acceptable response to reading such an overuse of the humble exclamation mark and repeated reassurance of just how full and amazing life was at the time.

I wasn’t taking many drugs back then, but I was busy.

Busy worrying, busy working, busy studying, busy socialising, busy creating “house sale dramas and nightmares”, busy drinking, busy pining, busy trying to work out the answers, busy gossiping, busy reassuring, busy dieting, busy story telling, busy arguing, busy complaining, busy planning, busy getting ahead.

Our society is great at helping people who want to be busy.

Hell, our whole economy is based upon people being busy.

I suspect I had fallen into the “busy trap” because I was frantically trying to find the answers; to fill my life up so that it somehow made sense.

Last night it occurred to me just how un-busy my life now is.

A friend wanted to come visit. He asked me when a good time would be.

I looked at the calendar, and realised that other than Monday night meditation and a few appointments here and there, my schedule is pretty much clear.

Holy shit.

I am so remarkably un-busy that I recently went six days without having a conversation with anyone (emails/facebook not included).

Yes, I am still busy studying (the Masters course was superseded by the life coaching course).

But other than that, my life has taken a u-turn into the slow lane.

The great thing about it is I have realised how comfortable I am now with the amount of space in my life.

I am comfortable with the pace that things unfold now, without a colossal amount of action on my behalf to make things happen.

So what’s been my secret in getting “un-busy”? Here a few things that helped me:

1. I redefined what success means to me

I am no longer chasing things in order to be happy at some future moment in time. My definition of success now is how much I enjoy each day (permission to vomit at the cliché) and how strong my connection is with my inner self.

Changing my outlook to focus on loving what I do with each day and loving who I am has allowed me the space and breathing room from the incessant pursuit of something.

I also let go of the idea I had to be doing something with my life by <insert whatever age that you think a particular milestone should be attached>. This has given me tremendous freedom as now I am not working towards some imaginary finish line at that particular age.

Over 30 and single? I don’t care.

Over 30 and unemployed? I don’t care.

Over 30 and broke? Yep, you guessed it. I don’t care.

I don’t need to panic about that certain age approaching because it doesn’t matter as I haven’t got a preconceived idea anymore about what I should or shouldn’t be doing at this age. This could very well tie into “giving up on should’s and have to’s”, “having faith things will work out” and “not comparing myself to others”.

2. I have faith things will work out

I loved Allison Nazarian’s “A matter of trust”. It really highlights in great eloquence how trust works in my life now.

I fully trust that things are unfolding in perfect order for me.

This means I don’t have to be busy trying to make stuff happen. I just have to take action where appropriate and trust that things will work out one way or another.

Sure, I’ve had my uncertain “wtf!?” moments, particularly since my money ran out, but because I have a solid belief that things will work out just fine for me, I haven’t been sucked back into making myself unnecessarily busy just for the sake of it.

3. I gave up on “should” and “have to”

This has freed up an incredible amount of time!

How many moments of our lives are consumed with the dreaded “should” word.

I am forever grateful to a friend who was the “should police”; pointing out every time one of us would curse ourselves with it.

It’s ingrained in me now. Whenever I hear the word “should” skip across my mind, it’s immediately followed by a defiant “why the f**k should I!?”

I have since been on a crusade to turn all should’s/haves to into “I want”.

And if I don’t want to do it, then it ain’t going to happen.

For those concerned about what others might think it you stopped doing the things you think you “should” be doing, I am happy to report I still have family and friends who love me very much

4. I stopped comparing myself to others

The day I realised and got comfortable with the fact that I am on my own, unique journey and that it doesn’t matter what anyone else is or isn’t doing, was when things really transformed for me in getting un-busy.

I recall when I was a younger, married version of me (early twenties), I was in such a hurry to accumulate and have what others had. I was ploughing full steam ahead into accumulating debt, belongings, experiences. I hardly took a breath back then. I was a girl on a really big mission.

I was also a big pain in the arse. Super uptight and controlling.

My downfall was my incessant comparison of myself to others.

Comparison to my friends. My family. People in the movies. On television. In magazines. People at work. Comparison to the imaginary picture I had of “successful” people.

Once I let go of that, I no longer felt inadequate when I saw people doing/having things that I didn’t have. Sure, I can use it as inspiration to file away in my “that would ultra cool to do/have” memory bank, but I’m not being driven by (or beating myself up about) the absence of it in my life at this present moment.

5. I no longer care what other people think

If I am honest, one of the reasons I liked being so busy was because it made me feel important. And needed. And loved.

I loved to think how people perceived me as this busy, important, needed and loved person.

Now I don’t care.

Some people think I am nuts the way I live my life now. Others think it’s awesome.

It doesn’t bother me one way or the other.

And that is the beauty of being comfortable with being un-busy. You stop caring what anyone else might think about the distinct lack of “stuff” going on in your life.

I guess it’s easy for me to detach from other people’s opinions given I have “redefined what success means to me”, “have faith that things will work out” and “stopped comparing myself to others”. Ha! It all works in harmony.

6. I learned to love my own company

I remember a time when I had to have people around me to help me feel okay.

Now in my un-busy life, I actually love hanging out by myself.

Admittedly, when my mother broke my six-days-without-a-convo stint, she was bombarded with an explosion of words that had been damming up unknowingly within.

And yes, I still have moments where I feel lonely.

But those moments are so few and far between that I wouldn’t trade my secluded sanctuary here on the mountain ridge for anything right now.

I love who I am now days and I love hangin’ out me

7. I feel satisfied with the simple things in life

We are so over stimulated these days, with constant pressure to consume and be dutiful cogs in the capitalist machine.

Do we really need everything we’re being sold?

I got a lesson when I lived in Romania for a short stint. We ran out of dishwashing liquid in the house. There was no store in the village I lived in, and no way of getting to a town with store for the next couple of days.

So what did we do? We used shampoo.

And you know what? It worked just fine.

When I got back to Oz, I just kinda gave up thinking I needed as much as I previously thought I did.

The result? I don’t need that much money to enjoy my life everyday, which means I don’t need to be working to accumulate all the things I thought I needed (although I do happen to use dishwashing liquid for the dishes these days!).

So how about you? What are some of your strategies to help you keep your sanity in this busy world of ours?

[Mandie’s latest note: I started writing this blog post weeks ago (yes, slacker I know). In the meantime, I got a job. I job I really wanted! I will be the part-time Careers & Disability Advisor at a Gold Coast uni as of next Monday. Further proof that things eventually work out. I guess my life will get a little busier from next week. Will let you know how I go keeping things in harmony and balance in my pursuit of remaining “un-busy” despite the addition of more “things” to do in my week]

I had the most delicious dream last night.

I was indulging in a box of Chocolatier chocolates. Revelling in the creamy softness of Milk Encore, a milk chocolate shell that melts away to a smooth creamy milk centre, and sucking in the goodness of the Lemon Macadamia, a decadent macadamia praline enriched with the zesty taste of of lemon.

After finishing the box, I moved on to those puffy marshmallow things covered in chocolate.Yes, in the real world I would have made a more sophisticated selection, but c’mon, I was dreaming.

I was gorging. I was happy. I was in sugar-fuelled ecstasy.

Then suddenly the realisation: Oh my god! I broke my diet! Shit. Shit. Shit.

But then morning rolled around, and I breathed a sigh of relief. All was well in the world. I hadn’t consumed 100 grams of sugar in one sitting.

I am not on a diet to lose weight.

I am trying to break my sugar addiction.

Don’t think sugar is serious? Standing on my soap box for a moment, I’d like to inform you that in a study with rats,  it was found that refined sugar was far more addictive than cocaine.

Think about it:

Cocaine is a drug refined from coca leaves.

Opium is a drug refined from poppies.

Sugar is a drug refined from sugar cane.

Oh yeah baby, just give me another hit of that dark chocolate laced with mint.

I recently finished reading “Sugar Dreams“, one of the latest books out in the Aussie market about the dangers of a substance that permeates most of the foods we consume in Western society.

The issue I think with this type of addiction is that most of us have it and we don’t even realise.

We are fed sugar so young we’re doomed from the start. We’re rewarded with it, bribed with it, denied it, count down to holidays that celebrate it (Easter – woohoo!), bargain with it, steal it, nag our parents for it.

Think you don’t have it because you don’t like cake? Have a look at the ingredients on the foods you eat. I’ve been surprised by how much I’ve had to cut out to get off the stuff.

Obvious things like cakes, biscuits, chocolates, lollies, hot chocolate, ice cream.

But then sweet chilli sauce, milk, juice, tomato sauce, flavoured yoghurt, jam, bread, baked beans, muesli bars, honey.

Even tins of corn kernals and kidney beans, salad dressings, gherkins, rice crackers, vegetarian soy mince.

It’s everywhere!

And for all of you that like a little tipple, sorry folks, alcohol is included as it behaves just like sugar in the body, along with refined carbohydrates such as white bread, white flour, white rice and white pasta.

Taken from the blog of the guy who wrote Sweet Poison:

Any sugar addict (that is anybody) will tell you that sugar makes them feel better.  The reality is that they are suffering a mild downer caused by the time since the last hit of sugar.  Taking more sugar simply lifts them back to how an unaddicted person feels all the time. This vicious cycle of mild pleasure followed by mild withdrawal which in turn is relieved by mild pleasure is the simple mechanism of addiction.  It is the same no matter which is the poison of choice, from cocaine to sugar.  Just because it’s sold in supermarkets rather than back alleys doesn’t make it any less addictive or dangerous.

I remember reading about that cycle of deprivation and satisfaction when I read Allan Carr’s “Easy Way to Stop Smoking”. He used the analogy of tight shoes to depict the craziness of addiction: would you voluntarily wear tight shoes just so you could experience the relief of taking them off? No? Well, that is exactly what we’re doing when we’re feeding addictions. It’s relief from the withdrawals symptoms we’re getting, not real pleasure.

It’s not just about the response of dopamine in our brains either.

Sugar changes our actual brain chemistry, making it easier for other drugs to find their way to the pleasure centre in our brains.

Great, so I can attribute that incessant sugar seeking as a child to my adult hungering for all things high-inducing.

So here I am embarking on something that a year ago I would have scoffed at. I am ridding myself of the last addiction I am being controlled by.

I’ve kicked caffeine, nicotine, drugs and alcohol. Sugar – you’re next!

What can I expect at the end of this addiction cycle?

I’m not too sure as I have never experienced what it’s like not to need my sugar hits.

But if I am to believe the research, I can look forward to increased energy, glowing and clear skin, steady moods, and it will feel easy to pass on the chocolate cake for dessert and be a cinch to always fit into my favourite jeans.

As well as avoiding a range of diseases and unhappiness including diabetes, heart disease, immune deficiency, herpes, yeast infections, PMS, loss of memory, nervousness, irritability, negative thought patterns.

Nice!

There is so much more on the subject that I can’t be bothered typing out here and you can’t be bothered reading in one stint I’m sure, such as how amino acids can help to balance our brain chemistry again and help us kick not only our sugar habit but drug and alcohol addictions.

So if you’re interested in learning more, get one of the books linked on this post or just google “sugar addiction”.

If anyone else is on board with me on this, let me know. Mutual support and encouragement would be appreciated!

Something extraordinary has occurred for me the past few days. I discovered “real” people on the internet.

I’m not talking about friends on facebook. Or the people blogging about their lives from their basements. Or the people you find on loved up chat rooms.

I’m talking about people who are making money from doing what they do best by being “real” about it. I mean, really, real. Like talking to you like you’re a human being real, rather than just a potential sale.

This snowball of discovery started with Naomi at IttyBiz.com. I found her when I was stumbling through the internet looking for information to help me with my marketing assignment.

First thing I noticed about Naomi is that she is honest.

Brutally honest. About marketing. Business. Her life.

She also uses the f* word in her blog.

This was the first time I had come across this phenomenon. Swearing. On a business blog. Who would have thought it possible? She also has 24,000 blog subscribers, so there seems to be a whole lot of others who care little about “appropriate” language.

It gave me hope that I wasn’t condemning myself to a straight jacket of conformity, just because I want to be in business myself.

Then I “met” Johnny B. Truant.

The first blog post of his I read resonated so much with me that I bought his e-course “Question the Rules”. I don’t have an income right now so the fact that some internet marketing guy managed to convince me in one blog post to spend 100 bucks is saying something. I am not easily persuaded.

Then the avalanche…Elizabeth Potts Weinstein…Alison Nazarian…Sarah Robinson…Chris Guillebeau. Entrepreneurs being honest and upfront and transparent. And being very popular in the process.

I feel like I’ve come home.

I have realised I don’t have to put myself into any sort of box in order to succeed at whatever business venture I decide to take on.

All I need to do is discover my own authentic voice and use it.

So folks, consider this the warning call around here. I am going to start practicing my authentic vocal chords.

You may wonder what might change. Especially if you’ve been following me from the beginning.

Well, for starters. I want to tell the whole story.

Not every story of my life. That would be boring/too much detail/narcissistic/unnecessary.

But I want to learn to be honest about how I really feel about things that matter to me. Or questions I have. Or things that perplex me. Or realisations I have.

And put it all into a post that reflect the words in my head, not the words I think you will accept from me.

I want to be really honest with myself.

Such as how I don’t feel I fit in as “Reiki Master” because I don’t sign off my emails “Love and Light, Mandie”.

I can do “love”, “lotsa love”, “big hugs”.

But “love and light”?

It’s just not me.

And over the past few days, I’ve realised that’s okay.

In fact, it’s more than okay. It’s absolutely fantastic I might have my own individual way of approaching the things I am interested in.

Because can you imagine how amazing the world would be if we all allowed ourselves to truly be ourselves?

If we didn’t apologise for not doing things how others do them. Or how others might expect.

And how peaceful it could be if we didn’t mind other people doing things the way they want to do them, rather than the way we expect them to?

It’s always been challenging to stereotype me. My behaviour is too erratic.

And my stumbling block in trying to work out how I could earn an income from my skills/passions/experience, was that none of the traditional “boxes” that were being presented to me seemed appealing.

“Reiki box” “Life Coach box” “Communications Person box” “Manager box” “Internet Marketer box”.

Ugh. I don’t want to be in any of them.

And you know what? I don’t have to. I’ve realised I can be me. I can be real.

Do you know how fucking liberating that feels!?!

Oh, and I have also realised in reading a ton other blogs, how much easier it is to read a post when the sentences are spaced out.

How by isolating a sentence in its very own line, it can have greater impact.

And don’t even get me started about how much more impact I can have when I bold words.

Nifty eh?

[Note to my mother – I promise to regulate my use of the f word. It was used primarily to enhance the dramatic impact of my point in this post. I love you. Your stereotypically challenged daughter, M x]

My fellow inhabitants at The Forest

I have an ant problem in my place. Well, not so much a problem, more like a fully fledged, army-style invasion of the little creatures.

Usually I can live in harmony with them, but in all honesty, my Buddhist aspirations are challenged when there are so many of them as its rather easy to kill them with a mere swipe of the cloth on the bench. I don’t mean to…I just want to clean the kitchen bench and it’s so hard to avoid them.

Anyway, this morning the invasion in the garbage bin was enough for me to realise I was hopelessly outnumbered.

Not wanting to be responsible for an ant holocaust so early in the morning, I placed the bin outside. I figured that once they realised their earth had moved and the food source taken away, they would respectably move on to greener pastures.

But when I went to check on them about a half hour later, there were still hoards of them scurrying around the bin.

Which begs the question…why?

Considering the size of the change that occurred for the bin-dwellers this morning, they were practically transported across the other side of the world, with no map of where they had landed, and no way of knowing where they were going to sleep, where they could get food and what fate had been dealt to the remaining members of their ant family left behind in the kitchen.

In other words – pretty bloody huge stuff just occurred for them.

So as I sat and ate my breakfast, I pondered why some of them had moved on and others remained in the bin.

It crossed my mind how these ants reflect how we humans respond to change in our life. When things are shaken up and our worlds seem to collapse and morph and change without our prior approval/permission, we either get on with things or we stay stuck in the past, circling around in an abyss of denial/resentment/ remorse/insert your chosen emotion that doesn’t help you move forward.

I even went and banged on the bin a few times to try and get them out, along with a few squirts of the organic chilli/garlic spray that seems to work on getting the grasshoppers off my vege patch.

But still some of them remain in the bin.

My only option after this will be to get the dreaded swipey cloth and I can’t guarantee they will make it out alive.

Thankfully for us our inability to move on when things change isn’t as dramatic as losing our life at the hand of a swipey cloth (well, you would like to hope not or global warfare has taken a dramatic turn) but it was food for thought for me this morning…

[Ed's note: hours after I wrote this post, I went to collect the bin and lo and behold, all had moved on (well...except for the few that the chilli spray got the better of). Seems the swipey cloth can rest until another day. Yay for avoiding mass ant murder this morning!]

It was a big week last week. Never mind Europe coming to a grinding halt (news that even reached me here in my usual oblivious seclusion), the big event last week in my world was the final of “So, You Think You Can Dance” in Australia. Now, you wouldn’t consider me a tv junkie in any shape or form – you know I don’t own one. But a ritual that spontaneously erupted in my life the past couple of months was a trek down to the bottom of the valley to one my forest neighbour’s place on a Wednesday night to get our weekly fix of these dancing superstar wannabes. We laughed, we cried, we sat in awe, we disagreed with the judges, we sided with our favourites, we clapped. It was a rich experience for me, made even the more delectable by dinner being cooked for me each week (thanks Janine and Lisa!).

2000 books in the next 100 days

With over 1 million viewers tuning in regularly each week (how do they work out that btw!?), I’ve been thinking about what made this show so spine tingling enticing for me and for others? My guess is that something magical occurs for us when we have the opportunity to be involved in the journey of people pursuing their dreams. People unafraid to give something their all, to bare their ambitions to all and sundry and channel their energy and focus into making their mark in the world, in whatever way makes their heart sing. This show gave us front row seats to witnessing these soul inspiring individuals on that journey. Along with tapping into an essential part of human nature; despite what we might be lead to believe by the nightly news, humans love supporting other humans. Let’s face it, we get a buzz from cheering one another along in life. A spark occurs from the depths of our being that recognises we’re all in this together.

Which brings me to what all this has to do with Stephanie Dale’s, My Pilgrim’s Heart. Well…Stephanie was the wonderful CouchSurfer who invited me into her home over a year ago. A home that became my home, despite her departure soon after my arrival. Yes, she was the synchronistic link to me making The Forest my home. Thanks for that Steph! Not only is she a kindred spirit to me on this life journey, but she is also one very talented writer. Her book captured my imagination as I journeyed with her on each page through her walk from Rome to Albania, and the inner journey she travelled about men and relationships. She has now embarked on the journey of baring her ambitions to the world, and as a self-publisher, she is channelling her energy into getting this book into the hands of people who will love such an honest account of what it means to walk thousands of kilometres, while trying to work out what a marriage means.

What I love most about Steph is how she has approached this “one step at the time”. She has said on numerous occasions its about the journey and not the outcome for her, but that has not stopped her giving this her all and setting her sights high. With the first print run of 1000 books moved in the first month, she has now set the intention of selling 2000 books in the next 100 days. You can join this book’s journey on Facebook. She is even offering free postage up until Mother’s Day if you buy online. So here I am, cheering from the side lines, in awe and clapping Steph. I’ll support you and do what I can to help you pursue this passion of yours. Go for it! Oh, and for those wanting a great Mother’s Day gift, or a birthday present for your ma or wife, or you want to just support someone I care about – go buy it!

I should have known this tree wasn’t going to last forever. My track record in gardening would have been enough of an indication I would kill it eventually. But I had one. Oh, such a glorious, abundant money tree, so easily accessible through the convenience of my trusty electronic card. I lived for three years with my money tree; the tree that sprouted from my decision to sell up and hand over the keys to my inner city apartment and undo the chains that were around my neck from its mortgage. I travelled, I volunteered, I socialised, I soul searched, I learnt Reiki, I daydreamed, I studied. All the while giving very little thought to the exchange of my time for any currency.

Then one day, last October, with an unexpected car repair bill (the consequence of the 10,000km road trip to the centre of this great country of mine), it died. No more. The tree just fizzled up and died.

Now you would think that for most people, it would mean the shake up to a reality that might involve full-time work and the end of the holiday as such. Not I; she who believes in the law of attraction!  My life didn’t have to change given my magic money tree had gone. Thankfully the Australian Government would support me now that I was by their standards, or by anyone’s standards, dead broke. Things were going along fairly smoothly. I sold items of any value off that I wouldn’t miss too much. I picked up a few hours here and there at the local health food store. I even managed to work full-time for one week back in February. The Universe was doing a good job of looking after me from week-to-week.

But suddenly, as what little money I had from the things I sold disappeared, and the few hours I did work dried up, I noticed that in actual fact, I was more than dead broke. I was now careering backwards into a debt ditch with no visible means of digging myself out (a metaphor made even more appropriate if you know of my previous track record with driving). But what’s going on here…I believed in the law of attraction!? So Universe, where’s my bloody money!?

Oh, it has been rather hilarious realisation that perhaps the Universe isn’t planning on piling another huge amount of cash in my lap, to replace the one I burned through previously, without any action on my part, despite my belief that it could/should/would. And that is the catch: action!

I had read about the concept of “inspired action” – it’s when you take action that feels good. It feels so good, and doesn’t seem like work, because your moving towards goals that make your heart sing. It’s been a hard one to admit, but I had a significant block to getting inspired by action that was going to truly put me in a position to enjoy earning money from something I enjoy. I was scared shitless about actually stepping up to the plate and putting myself “out there” for public scrutiny/humiliation/amusement. So I kept applying for jobs, for little money (the drawback of living regionally), in the hope that some day I was going to inexplicably wake up with the courage to back myself in my own business.

Then it occurred to me, that I could get stuck in this loop for a very long, long time. At some point I have to face my fear and just do it anyway (actually, I think there was even a book written to that effect to help people like me…note to self: search for said book in library). So things are going to change around here soon. Consider this the official warning I will soon be embarking on carving out of my own little part of the entrepreneurial world. It will start small. But as the songs go, from little things, big things grow. And with this step, the planting of my very own money tree to replace the one that died will be done, but thank god this tree will come with a sustainable business plan, a target market and projections for growth! I realise that this whole Universal law of attraction comes with responsibility for me to play my role and I am ready to start playing now

There a few sure fire signs when my attitude to life takes a turn: I stop updating my facebook status, I stop exercising and I start reminiscing about working full-time. Yep, I know, tragic. But as tragic as it sounds, it just occurred.

It was prompted after the Great Easter Campout at The Forest, with 13 of my darling friends and 9 of their kids pitching tents around my yard. The weekend was chaotic, messy, fun and heartwarming. My kitchen turned into a brothel within minutes of it being cleaned, the boys couldn’t wait to burn everything in sight on the campfire, and kids were having major sugar meltdowns by Sunday evening. But all in all, we functioned rather harmoniously, sharing food and watching whoever’s kid was right in front of us…the whole weekend kind of echoed of the commune-style living that you imagine the original hippies of this area would have lived like.

Then as quickly as this impromtu community sprung up, it packed up and headed home. Headed home with their family members in tow, to their jobs and mortgages, to the weekly social gatherings with one another in Brisbane, to the cycle of life that revolves around the whole Monday-Friday gig.

I am known as the crusader of the group, who has embarked on the mission to carve out a different reality in life (either that or I’m just the crazy friend who went to live a forest for some ‘spiritual’ reason). Either way, that week after they left, I was left a little grief stricken. Further provoked by the plummeting movement of my bank balance, the distinct lack of tangible business plans or employment, and no-one to share the burden (opps, I meant joy…really, I did), I found myself sucked into a victim vortex – lamenting the lack of funds, the lack of family, and generally feeling a bit crap that my passionate “life purpose” wasn’t in full swing yet.

Now I wouldn’t be the spiritual warrior that I am if I didn’t have a way to pull myself out of this despair. With all this time on my hands freed up by not working, I love to indulge in the free interviews done by a multitude of players in the personal development field. My favourite is Jennifer Mclean’s “Healing with the Masters”. I love her interview style as I never feel like she is trying to sell me anything as a consequence of listening to her program. Sure, the people being interviewed have products/programs – all promising to be that elusive missing link in making your life amazing. But she just has a way about her that makes me trust her (okay, okay, so my closest affection for this women is out in the open!).

Anyway, I digress. The point I wanted to bring up with all of this, is that in an interview Jennifer did with Gary Zukav, he mentioned that he never refers to feelings as good/bad, or experiences in life as positive/negative…he simply refers to us as either being in a state of expansion or contraction. I really liked that. Okay Gary, so you helped me work out that I am just in a “contracting” phase right now. And you know what, just putting that label on it, as opposed to “feeling like shit” phase, made me feel so much better. Because following on from that thought, I could see that whatever contracts, can expand again and in actual fact, it’s just the natural ebb and flow of life to travel through these periods of expansion and contraction. Phew, I wasn’t going to feel like this forever!

And that thought really helped me. Just knowing that I am not going to be in this position forever. Things always change. That’s life. We can always bank on things changing. So armed with this knowing, I breathed a sigh of relief. One day I will be sharing my gifts with the world, and earning money, and have a beautiful relationship, and a family to share this whole journey with. I managed to pick myself up enough to continue on with my studies.

Then lo and behold, I found myself bouncing out of bed yesterday and springing off to a morning cycle class at the gym. Yes, it was a Saturday, but for someone who isn’t working, every day is Saturday so it hardly counts for extra bonus points on the “commitment to fitness” scale. But it was only when I was buzzing on the way home, after my workout and after-workout catch up with new friend in the Shire, Em, that I was merrily dreaming about all the possibilities for my future, that I realised I had somehow made the switch to an expansive phase, or my “woohoo-life is great!” phase. Ha ha ha, see – proof that what goes down must come up