Made in Campsie

Not long ago - I cannot pin point exactly when -  my mum got fed up with my paying rent via the usual means (The usual means being a mutually agreed and unspoken contract which would see me providing my exclusive clown entertaining services and associated theatrics 24/7 in exchange for accommodation).  And so she took to charging me rent. I  acknowledge I have been deeply fortunate for my good run thus far and  truthfully, I was happy to pay rent as I believed  that this would be the much needed impetus to finally get my own place.



For those of you who know me, I've been speaking about getting my own place and doing it up for about 10 years. Those who know me also know I like talking a lot of shit, so I guess purchasing a unit did come as somewhat of a surprise to a few.

But here it is! My first apartment. It's kind of small and needs a lot of work, but it gets drenched in around-the-clock glorious sunshine and has great bones (some of which, admittedly,  I'm in the process of surgically removing - ha!).

And after sitting on my empty lounge floor and crying after the first, second and third visits,  I am now happy to report that since working on the unit, I'm growing to really love this place! I have so many grand visions for it ( In terms of a palette, I've been throwing around terms like "Scandinavian", "clean crisp lines" like any good proper designer wanker would). And while initially the prospect of renovating this place seemed daunting,  the process  has actually been really exciting and fun, but obviously not without its moments (more on that later).

And in unrelated renovation news:

Of Mind and Mongrel

At the RSPCA, she assumed the identity of  a low-level prison bitch going by name of 'Sunny' (sick, I know). With her stint finally over, she was promptly brought home, babtised and issued with a new passport and drivers licence in the name of 'Frankie'. She is known to answer to other descriptive monikers including;  Frankfart (upon emitting gas), Frangi, Frangipani (fresh after a bath), Frau Frankie (in the presence of mixed company) and Rat Bastard.

Favourite Things Friday

On gratitude

Full disclosure: last week I experienced a spiritual relapse. I hit rock bottom. I won't  labour over all the torturous details, suffice  to say it was awful. By now I have become accustomed to  this drill and  so, begrudgingly, I knew exactly what I had to do.  Knowing is one thing though. What did I actually do? I went to the fridge to look for a tiny easter egg  which I vaguely remembered had fallen somewhere behind the shelves about two months ago. There was no chocolate ANYWHERE,  and I  was so very desperate. So I probably spent 15 minutes  doing that (I found it!). But THEN what did I  do? I bathed in my pain and  let it wash over me until, eventually, there was nothing  left for it but to pack  its little knapsack of sorrow and move on. It was painful but necessary.

This post, however,  is not an exercise in ego. It's about gratitude. My relapse nevertheless serves as an important reminder that one cannot attempt to deny or discount any negative feelings  in an effort to remedy  pain. The condensed version of my three step program: 1. Shit happens 2. Sit with (sh) it fully 3. Practice gratitude to realign.  Wham bam thank you Sham.

Once you have allowed the space for your emotions, you will find that they dissipate or transmute into something manageable. Either way, you are free to move onto step 3 - practising gratitude! Expressing gratitude, both verbally or in written form, is such a powerful spiritual practice. Authentic appreciation of yourself and everything around you leads to a serious recaliberation of energy and helps you to align with your most powerful and true self. Simply put, it just feels better.

Finding identity through stuff

Dear friends, today I cordially invite you to join me as I  explore the topic of finding  identity through 'stuff'.  'Stuff' in this instance  may include, but is not limited to  such things as; relationships, jobs, apartments or any of the spin offs in  the Real Housewives franchise. Cheap LOLs aside, this is an important topic for spiritual consideration because identification to any types of these things can invite much angst, anxiety and general pangs of uneasiness into our lives.

When we fall into the mindset that a particular job, relationship or any external object or circumstance is going to give us identity (or worse still, peace),  we lose ourselves in the world and are held hostage to the impermanent nature of objects and circumstances. I bear witness to this struggle in myself and those around me often. We cannot seek Peace through any of these things, because as it turns out, every last one of these things are inevitably subject to change. We leave jobs, relationships dissolve, things are taken from us.

I'm a spiritual blogger now

Hello, dear friends. Would  you mind if I silently tip toe back over here and start writing again? Could you ignore the fact my last post was over three years ago. And while I have you turning a blind eye, could we perhaps just  start all over again? Like ignore my previous vulgar tirades and posts about cats because, NAMASTE Y'ALL! I've arisen from the ashes and returned anew as a spiritual blogger!  Yes! It's exactly like if the Dalai Lama had a blog,  only he was  super lazy and selectively practised what he preached like 30% of the time, and still lived with his parents. And sometimes liked dancing to filthy gangster music. Exactly the same.

Good clean fun

I  took some time out  from my daily schedule of fucking about and did the Manly to North Head Walk with a friend. The walk itself is amazing and although we managed to do only 4 km, it was still a great work out. Fresh crisp ocean air, sunny weather and sweeping vistas of the Sydney city skyline. Highly recommend!