One Love

Something the gentleman builder said to me this evening set me thinking.  He said "you continue to amaze me, even after all these years".  After the warm and fuzzy feeling had died down, I began thinking about that and how, to me, that's one of the things that keeps love alive.  That, regardless of how much time you spend with someone, you find out more about them or look at them in a different light and fall in love all over again.

Now, it's "too late, tonight, to drag the past out into the light.  We're one but we're not the same; we get to carry each other" through life.  I believe that part of being human is sharing our lives with other people.  There are not true hermits.  I think that, intrinsic to being human is supporting each other and helping each other through the tough times.  Let's face it, no one goes through life without acquiring emotional baggage.  What's important is that those we love and those that love us are there not only for the good times but through the darkest times in our lives.  And they love us just the same.

This set me on another train of thought, as U2 filled the car with one of my all time favourite songs, One, about the types of love there are in the world.  Most of societies marketing is aimed at romantic love but I believe there are other types of love that can be almost as powerful, namely:

• parent love - there's nothing like the love I feel when I look the eyes of my children, hold them in my arms and soak up their individuality (freaking out knowing that I am responsible for their sanity and will be the source of much of their baggage as they grow up)
• sibling love - regardless of the amount of crap times I endured growing up, I'll always love my sister and, thankfully, the love I have for her continues to grow as we get older
• child love - the love I have for my parents and my innate desire to please them drives me to be a better version of myself
• family love - the love I have for my aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews overflows at times
• friend love - the love I feel for my close friends is just as strong as the love I feel for my family.  I am indebted to so many of my friends for the memories and the camaraderie we share

Metallica seem to hit the spot when they wrote the lyrics "Forever trusting who we are and nothing else matters... Life is ours, we live it our way".  No one goes through life without making mistakes, without regrets and without experiencing pain.  Thankfully, most of us get to sprinkle our lives with happiness and moments of pure joy.   Love, in all its forms, is a way of learning more about ourselves.  It's about finding our place in the world.  Love is rarely a smooth journey but even if love ends, it is possible to look back and find the moments of joy shared between two hearts. 

Like Rebecca Ferguson says "nothing's real but the love.  No money, no house, no car, can beat the love".  And turning the tables on one of Adele's most popular song - sometimes it hurts in love, but sometimes it lasts instead.

Oh, the humanity

The origins of the expression "Oh, the humanity" date back to the Hindenburg disaster in the 1930s.  But it has been playing on my mind frequently lately.  My father is ill.  He has had emphysema for many years.  He has had a number of heart attacks.  He has been diagnosed with kidney cancer and is currently in hospital receiving palliative care for end stage chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD).  

Dad recently contracted a cold which turned very quickly into bronchitis and an acute hospital admission.  Dad has been told by his lung specialist that he is no longer  ridding his lungs of carbon dioxide effectively.  This is creating an acid environment in his blood and his, already stressed, kidneys are working hard to rectify the situation.  As a result of the emphysema, he experiences shortness of breath all day, every day.  For my Dad, it is painful to breathe and it is no longer possible to exhale in one breath.

The problem is, there are no guarantees with end stage COPD.  It is a particularly difficult disease to track or predict.  As such, the medical professionals cannot give any indications for the expected progress of Dad's condition.

Dad has expressed his wishes since his first heart attack over 3 years ago.  He does not want to live artificially and has a do not resuscitate (DNR) order.  Recently, a family meeting was called at the hospital where Dad made his wishes known to myself, my sister and my Mum.  I see this as an informal advanced care plan.

I am all for conscious living.  I like being around people that think about the choices they make in life rather than following the pack blindly, never considering whether the decisions they make are right for them.  For this reason, I respect my father's wishes and will do the best I can to support him.

One of the comments Dad made during the family meeting was that, as a society, we would not expect an animal other than a human to live like he is at the moment; in constant pain, with a terminal illness that no one has any chance of curing.  Euthanasia literally means "good death" in Ancient Greek.   


Dad's comment made me think about all the situations in which vets will euthanase animals.  Race horses are often put down after an accident.  Cows are terminated with severe infections.  There are instances where domestic pets are given a lethal injection because their owners cannot afford the surgery that would save their life and it is more humane to terminate the life of the animal than let the suffer as, without treatment, they would die.

Then, I came to think about how I feel about that.  While I believe firmly in saving lives wherever possible (and have been known to feed calves with a dropper in the hope that they will pull through scours), Dad's comment had me pondering at what point it is more humane to terminate a life than to progress with trying to keep it alive.  

The problem is that emotion gets in the way of a logical decision.  With livestock, pets and more so people, our ability to show true compassion is clouded by the fact that we have an attachment to the animal/human and we find it hard to let go.  Grief is one of the least commonly explored and discussed emotion.  I believe our society hides grief away.  Many people try to "protect" children in times of extreme sadness by keeping them out of the loop.  As such, we are not exposed to grief and the grieving process until later in life.  As a result, I believe that we are ill-equipped to deal with death.

Now, I concede that there are plenty of people out there studying the ethics of euthanasia and that I know relatively little about the intricacies of such things.  Admittedly, I am not keen to learn the details of something that my father would deem to be 'morbid'.  But I began to wonder what was done in "traditional" societies in instances where someone had a terminal disease.  So I turned to the tool that everyone trusts.  I did a Google search.

It turns out that it's not easy to find such information.  The only reference I found was that the Inuits would transport invalids to a sacred place, remove their clothing and expose them to the elements which would result in voluntary death by exposure.

To be honest, I have not come to any conclusion about euthanasia.  For humans or other animals.   I do believe in the first rule of medicine, however, being "Primum non nocere" or "first do no harm".  I wonder what this means in the case of the medical care for my father.  I question whether, with all the medications that Dad is on (and where he takes medications to deal with the side effects of other medications), his team of experts truly are doing no harm.

I just want less stuff

We live in a society that places a great deal of emphasis on material possessions.  To maintain the economic growth of the last few decades, our society has become focused on the things that others own and structuring advertising to ensure that we "keep up with the Joneses". 

"When you look at the buying habits that have taken hold in our culture over the past 30 years or so, you can see that we made the decision somewhere along the line to work longer hours so we could acquire more things.  We've exchanged our leisure time for stuff" ~ Elaine St James.  This works because there is a pleasure component to buying things (ergo shopping addictions).

I wonder how many people look at an item and decide whether the possession they are seeking is what they really want in life.  I have been caught in the "stuff" trap; I have iPhone envy; I crave gorgeous clothes and, as Radiohead proclaim, "I want a perfect body.  I want a perfect soul".  But I am able, most days, to take a step back and realise that the stuff I have does not define the person I am.  I am not worth more if I wear Prada than if I wear something from Target.  My worth, in my opinion, is in the way I treat people and the things that I do, not the clothes that I wear or the type of phone I use to I keep in contact with people.


As the Irish philosopher Charles Handy once said, "We can manage our time.  We can say no.  We can give less priority, or more, to homework or to paid work.  Money is essential but more money is not always essential.  Enough can be enough".

I love this concept as it can be so easy to get to decide on a certain milestone (I want to go on a holiday) and get carried away (I want an overseas holiday flying business class and staying in 5 star hotels).  The point here is that what you may really need is a break, some time out from the mundane reality of life and what eventuates is a burden of costs and expectations that are hard to meet.

Recently there was an ad for a credit card which ended with the line "I just want... more... stuff".  (Don't get me started on advertising and it's effects on spending habits).  Ever since the credit card ad aired, coupled with the fact that we face the prospect of moving the contents from our current home to the shouse (at about half the size of our current living space), the Gentleman Builder and I will pack things to donate and chant "I just want... less... stuff".

With each iteration of clearing out in preparation for the move to the shouse I realise how much we have accumulated over the years that we don't need and probably never did.

Thankfully, decluttering is the buzz-word of the minute among housey people and zen interiors are popular.

We have adopted three criteria for deciding whether to keep something we are undecided about:

1. Does it serve a purpose?
2. Is it of sentimental value?
3. Is it pretty?

If the answer to all three questions is 'No' the item is donated or thrown away, depending on its condition.  If any of the questions result in a 'Yes', the item is put to the side for another time.

Each time I go this process it gets easier.  I make decisions faster and don't fret about the choice I make.

For me, throwing out an item that might one day have a purpose has always been difficult.  For this reason, I have accumulated a whole room full of stuff that sits there and makes the room unusable.  I am finding it difficult but I am getting better at not accepting new stuff and not buying things that don't have an immediate need.  I have found that I am getting better at not taking things into the home that I will eventually have to throw out.

Furthermore, I now have a better filtering mechanism when buying things. I acknowledge that I used to buy things I didn't even need.  It would appear that some people go even further and buy things they don't want.  Now, I actually contemplate the purchases I make.  Part of the reason for doing so is financial.  Another is space limitation (I don't want to end up having to throw it away because it will not fit in the shouse).  Furthermore, I refuse to pay for storage for my stuff.

I find I can get away with much less. As the 90s ad campaign goes; reduce, reuse, recycle!

Reflections of a double life

I recently took a job in Melbourne.  Before applying for jobs in Melbourne, I weighed up the pros and cons.  The biggest downside is that I am not with my husband and children during the week.  However, there are positives.  I get to spend  precious time with my family in Melbourne; catch up with friends I have ignored while we have been building plus I really like the work I am doing. 

One of the unexpected up sides is the reflective time I have in the car.  Without traffic the drive from home to work is about 2.5 hours.  Add in Melbourne's horrendous peak hour traffic (which is not helped by the lack of public transport from the outer eastern "suburbs") and the drive quickly escalates to nearly 4 hours.   

The long drive twice a week has given me the opportunity to assess my life, the interactions I have with people and the way I feel about these things. 

I was introduced to the formal term for this kind of thinking, reflective practice, while working in youth and family services.  Prior to that, for me the process was merely contemplation.

Reflective practice involves evaluating your own values through a process of continuous learning.  The Japanese refer to continuous improvement as kaizen and define it as 'change for the better'. Argyrius and Schon (1978) defined the process of double loop learning (where you subject your actions to cricial scrutiny involving the identification and correction of errors and then modify the way you respond when a similar situation arises).  Kolb (1984) converted this theory into to a reflective practice flow chart.

The time in the car has given me a new-found appreciation for the importance of assessing the decisions I make and responses I have to things people say and do.  I have found that this has led to increased creativity and the formation of new ideas.  I find that I am more analytical in my approach to life and am less reactive in the things that I do.  

I am more able to utilise Suzy Welch's 10-10-10 rule where you base decision-making for large choices on the impact the decision will have for you in 10 minutes, 10 months and 10 years.   Separating the benefits into short and long term makes the decision easier to make.  If the benefits are short-lived only, the decision is possibly not the right choice.  However, a short term sacrafice that leads to large long term gains might be worthwhile.

As a result of time to reflect on life, I (generally speaking) have a calmer demeanor.   I have much greater observation skills (each time I notice something I would have missed previously, it makes me think of Ursula from the little mermaid swinging her hips and saying "And don't underestimate the importance of body language").  I also tend to have better insight into how people are feeling and the affect my actions have on them.  I am better able to dedicate time to the kids and I feel like I am more nourished.

I believe that our busy lives mean that we have less time for reflective practice and our lives are very reactive as a result.  I think that in time when the majority lived as subsistence farmers doing manual work they would have had time to mull things over while they toiled at repetitive tasks.  I wonder how society would change if more people had time to think things through and took advantage of that time to analyse their actions.  I imagine, if that were the case, there would be a lot less tension and anger.