Awesome

I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon with the Gentleman Builder, Young Padawan and Little Miss at the beach over the weekend.  It was a glorious winter afternoon.  The sun was shining, there was no wind and the air had the first hints of spring.  It was purely awesome.

There are few things in life that take my breath away but the ocean is one.  There's something awe inspiring about the expanse of space and the consistency of the waves.  I love the beach in winter for the space and the lack of crowds. 

A starry night involkes similar feelings of awe for me as does a forest.  In fact, a view across a forest overlooking the ocean is the pinacle of awesomeness for me. 

This had me thinking about the effect of moment of awe on my perspective of life.  Everything feels better and looks brighter after an experience like this.  It would appear that I am not the only one - a little research shows that moments of awe actually have the effect of time slowing down and alters people's mental state.  I guess that's why people flock to the beach and why real estate is more expensive when equipped with an ocean view.

Mirror mirror

I've spent much time recently pondering the vagaries of self image and the connection between self image and self worth. In our body-obsessed culture, it is hard to escape the media attention placed on the perfect body.  Despite the fact that few people are genetically blessed to have the capacity to achieve what our society defines as a "perfect" body; those of us that hold a full time job simply don't have the time to hone our outer vessels into something society accepts as perfect.

In fact, the preferred body shape for women has not always been slim and big breasted.  The ideal women in the 1800s was fuller figured while in the 1920s women bound their breasts to achieve what I can only term a boyish figure.

Personally, I have struggled to obtain a 'perfect' body since my early teens.  I have been known to skip dessert, whine over my muffin top and refuse to wear a two-piece in summer.  I frequently feel inferior around my fellow women who always appear to me as skinnier, more toned, less hairy and generally better looking than I could ever dream to be.   However, I consider myself lucky to not have succumbed to the pressure to achieve such an elusive goal through eating disorders or obsessive exercise (perhaps I lack the necessary dedication to the cause or perhaps I just like food too much and am not willing to give up chocolate pudding in order to have a flat stomach).

Styling advice abounds on how to dress according to your body shape.  Some people, like the infamous Trinny and Susannah, have made this pursuit their profession and have made shapewear a household term.  I recall one bridesmaid experience where a member of the bridal party was aghast that I would attend the wedding day without tummy trimming underwear, especially when I had carried two children.  Amazed by this, I did a quick survey of the rest of the bridal party and some of the guests at the wedding and found that I truly was a freak.  So much for donning sexy lacy underwear for a special occasion!  I was shocked that these women, almost all of whom were younger than me and not mothers would feel the need to squeeze themselves into uncomfortable, restrictive and, to my mind, unflattering underwear in order to look a little more toned in their frock.

It's possibly no surprise to hear my reaction to a sub-30 year old friend who recently had botox on her forehead and dermal filler for her lips.  I was floored.  Not only did it look like she had been subjected to an encounter with a hive of angry bees, she'd paid $700 for the privilege of spending a weekend with an ice pack on her lips.  To top it off, she's now committed to going every quarter for repeat treatments.  I look at that and equate the money she's spending to have a smooth forehead and fuller lips with an annual holiday and I know which one I would choose!

But on a grander scale, I am saddened to think that a woman in her 20s is so upset with the way she looks (and how she is perceived by those around her) that she willingly injects neurotoxins into her body.  And she's not the only one.  Botox is increasingly popular with 1.5 million injections delivered to Australians in 2010.  We spend billions every year on treatments to seemingly halt the aging process.  It's the plastic fantastic phase.

I am relieved to know that there is an upsurgence against the body obsession with some governments banning advertising (and airbrushing) that portrays unhealthy bodies and rare journalists reporting on the perceived strength of media to manipulate women and the torture they put their bodies under. 

I have, over the last few decades, come to realise how much more important my actions are than how I look.  I like the reflection in the mirror more on the days where I have done something for myself or for someone I love, regardless of the wrinkles and imperfections.  My children care not for my orange peel thighs but love that I will play with them on the swings or attempt to amuse them with handstands and failed attempts at round-offs.  My friends don't know if I move from a size 8 to a size 10 but appear to like that I deliver dessert when I visit.  And I am guessing my husband prefers black lace over nude shapewear too, even if there is bulging of skin here and there.

I feel better on the days where I exercise.  The endorphins help me ward of stress from work and living away from my family during the week and I get some fresh air and outdoor time which I love.  Ideally my exercise would be in the sunshine but even a walk in the rain in the dark of pre-dawn sets me up for a happier day than I would have ordinarily had.

For me, it has taken a long time to get to this point.  I have put in a lot of work to be able to turn against the media pressure to look a certain way.  Some days I still fail. 

Perhaps I am a freak but I like to think that women are smarter than society gives them credit for.  I'd like to think that women would make a conscious decision to live a healthy life, an authentic life.  One where they are comfortable in their own skin.  A life where they eat food, mostly plants, not too much (Michael Pollan); exercise and get enough rest.  But, to butcher the lyrics of Carly Rae Jepson, call me crazy.

Natural building products

I've mentioned this before but it continually amazes me how hard it is to source natural building products.  The latest is natural paint.  We have tried making our own casein paint with limited success.  The volumes needed, however, have forced us to seek alternatives.

It's relatively easy to find truly natural, zero VOC (volatile organic compound) paint in the UK.  There's  Earth Born, Bioshield and Ecotec Natural Paint.  But we struggled to find suppliers of these paints in Australia and the weight (and wait) involved in shipping from Europe made them an inviable option.

There's the less natural option of  Volvox that is available in Oz but we were firm on the need for paint with no VOCs so kept looking.

There is method behind the madness.  The high vapor pressure of volatile organic compounds (VOCs) is caused by a low boiling point, which means that large numbers of molecules evaporate and are discharged into the air at ordinary room temperatures.  One VOC in paint is formaldehyde which is colourless but has a pungent, irritating odour and is a known carcinogen (i.e. it causes cancer).  Now, I am not one to look kindly on deliberately installing products in my home that are likely to cause my family ill health.  Ergo, the need to find paint with no VOCs.

So, we continued on our quest and eventually contacted the lovely staff, Hartmut and Elke, from the Natural Paint Company, based in Port Macquarie New South Wales, and managed to purchase some brilliant natural paint and vega primer from them.

The paint that we purchased is casein marble paint, such as was used by the ancient Egyptians in 1300BC.

The vega undercoat dries clear.

The casein marble paint goes on clear

and dries white.

Best of all, there is no smell. 

The paint comes in powder form and is mixed with a drill bit attachment.  The best bit about the paint is that we made an oil-based version for use in the bathroom and on the roof in the kitchen as it is much more water resistant.  To ensure the paint is still white once the oil has been added (we used tung oil but for a cheaper option safflower oil can be used) we purchased some titanium white pigment to include in the oil paint.  For the walls and roof in the bathroom we used about 30% oil.  We plan to make a richer oil-based paint for the windows.

Busyness

I've already spoken of switched on living and reflective practices that, I believe, are fundamental to living a full life.  I've touched on authenticity and living organically; true to yourself and your ideals.  An overlay on all of this is the pressure to be busy.  I see so many people that have back-to-back activites - Monday is netball, on Tuesday there's gym, Wednesday is social night, Thursday partner night and Friday the kids get taken to McDonalds and the weekend in punctuated with appointments and gatherings.  I see people rushing through life - doing what I can only describe as "stuff".  The time they spend bustling around in the morning and evening after work does not seem to generate anything.  It's just activity (see the eloquent writing of Tim Kreider). 

There are so many people rushing around all the time .  And, most of the time, I am one of them.  My days in Melbourne are punctuated with long hours in the office, catch ups with much-neglected friends and desperate attempts to squeeze in some form of physical activity.  In amongst all that I try to make meals for the family for the following week, plan further education for myself and the kids and collect supplies for the build.  Weekends are spent building the house, catching up on washing and cleaning at home, paying bills and caring for children. 

I can cope with this current level of busyness as, I hope, it's a short-term gig for us.  I took a job in Melbourne to pay for the build; so I can see The Gentleman Builder's childhood dream come true; so I can provide a better life for my gorgeous children and so I can spend some time with my terminally ill father, my family and my friends that I haven't spent much time with since moving to Gippsland 5 years ago.  I have a brilliant job that I really love and get to work with some exceptionally talented, interesting and stimulating people.

But I freely admit this is not the end for me.  My plans do not live a life where I am away from my family.  My goal is to settle into country living.  Not the idealised country life where everything is scones and leisurely walks (though I do plan to include those things in abundance) but the reality of country life; where I will get stuck into the seasonality of life.  A life where we will fertilise and plant furiously in the spring to be able to harvest in the autumn.  Where activity comes in bursts interspersed with moments, days I hope, of nothingness.  Where, should the weather be fine and the wind be weak, I could choose a good book from the shelf and settle into the hammock to soak up some vitamin D and get lost in another world.  I dream of a life where I could decide to pick up the camera and take photos all day.  I envisage our block set up with sheep, goats, pigs, chooks, geese and ducks; where the flowers grow in abundace and I spend many long hours enjoying the view.  I hope for a life that is reflective, honest and peaceful.  A life that is overflowing with fresh organic produce for long lunches and dinners with friends that feed both the stomach and the soul. 

I dream of, even crave, times of hard work - I am not averse to work; even in abundance.  But I believe work should be followed by rest.  Time to relect on life.  Time to share thoughts and ideas with others; time to soak up sunshine; time to let the wind blow through your hair and take your troubles away; time to just be.

Authenticity

Call it confirmational bias but I keep coming across authenticity lately and so feel compelled to write about it too.  To me, being authentic is the truthfulness and sincerity in the way you live life.  Authenticity involves following your heart, acknowledging the way you feel about things and acting in accordance with that despite the cultural norms.  

Authenticity is the alignment of head, mouth, heart, and feet - thinking, saying, feeling, and doing the same thing - consistently. 

I recently saw the 2009 Bruce Willis movie Surrogates.  I am not sure how this movie skipped under my radar when it was released but seeing it got me thinking; not only about how willing so many people would be to actually take up the option of having a surrogate live their life but also about the 'face' we present to the world.  I find most people have a game face that they display to all but a select few.

I believe that living authentically is the first step towards self-acceptance.  Internal struggles are usual for me. I seem to constantly toggle between options, evaluating my choices against my beliefs and values.  When I make a decision that is against my better judgement I always come to regret it.  Living authentically leads to less anger and frustration.  

Authenticity is no longer just the realm of those living against societal norms; it seems plenty of people are jumping on the bandwagon. There are even IT think tanks joining in the chorus and developing applications to allow companies to recognise that employees need to live authentically in the workplace.  Of course, the organisation is set to benefit from embracing this by getting a bigger slice of their employees' time but most people would like to know their entire skill set is appreciated.

To live authentically you need firstly to know what it is you value, what you need, what you are passionate about,  what your strengths are and what you want to achieve.  To me, living authentically involves:

• Valuing people over possessions
• Caring for others (not only in the direct sense but also giving myself permission to think and care about other people and what is happening in their life)
• Expressing genuine interest in others rather than merely adhering social niceties
• Being involved in the lives of the ones I love
• Making time to play (this includes playing with my children and other children but also finding time to have do photography, cooking and sewing )
• Seeking inspiration -  spending time with friends and family
• Fulfilling life-long dreams
• Limiting, as much as possible, negative self-talk

My ability to live authentically is compromised when I am tired, overworked or feeling pressured (which is pretty often at the moment).  There are plenty of external pressures that affect my ability to live authentically and have me questioning my values.  However, I try to have checks in place to make sure I am operating in a manner that I am happy with.  For me, the biggest checkpoint is when I lie in bed at night.  In the quiet time between wakefulness and sleep I can gauge very easily whether I have made the right choices during the day.  For me, peace comes when I have been true to myself and, in doing so, done no harm to others.

Lance Secretan

Living mortgage free

I have received a number of requests to wirte a post about life without a mortgage.  So, for those who asked - here we are.

We have not always been mortgage free.  When we purchased a house in Melbourne, we had a significant mortgage.  I was on less than graduate salary and the Gentleman Builder was on a stipend while studying his Masters.  Things were tight.  Very tight.  We made the decision, however, to pay more than the minimum repayments (by about double)  to get ahead on the mortgage in preparation for having children.  We had always planned on moving to the country and having a sustainable farm and the house in Melbourne was a stepping stone for us.  The plan was to work in the city and earn enough to buy a block and build a house without a mortgage.  The plan was going according to plan when we were approached by an investment firm to purchase our house when I was pregnant with Little Miss.  The timing was a bit off so I managed to negotiate a long settlement so I could see out the pregnancy in Melbourne.  We moved to Gippsland when Little Miss was 4.5 months old.

If I am honest in the appraisal of our finances, we would have been quite comfortable on one salary had I not been ill in 2009/2010 (and the start of 2011).  That little furore cost us nigh on $100K in out of pocket expenses and lost income due to me not working.  Like Pumbaa (from the Lion King) says "You got to put your behind in your past".  Despite how guilty I feel about the costs associated with my illness, what's done is done and there's nothing anybody can do about it.

In a nutshell we live a peasant, no... wait, what I mean is we live a p-l-easant life.  We have enough to get by on and don't miss out on too much.  We have chosen, consciously, not to enter into debt.  The way we achieve living mortgage free is to spend less:

• Our kids live in hand-me-down clothes (which actually sits well with me considering how much waste there is in the world)
• We have a very dubious car 
• I am not an average woman. - I spend less on beauty products in a year than most women would spend on shampoo alone.  I don't do pretty and I have never been a fashionista (lucky, really, because if I was not already that way, I would have been forced down that path (or the wheels would have fallen off somewhere along said path)).
• We rely on birthdays and Christmas to stock us up on new clothes
• As things have broken (like the microwave) we have not replaced them but made do without (part of this has been preparation for the fact that we will have less power at the block and therefore any electrical items we can live without we do).  
• We don't spend money on entertainment (the only exception in the last few years has been Rock the Ballet but I also consider that educational so it is easier to justify)
• There are no meals at restaurants
• We don't buy magazines and rely on the library for books and DVDs
• We don't have the latest gadgets (no iPhone,  iPad or XBOX60 in sight)
• Until I started work in Melbourne we shared a mobile phone
• We repair things as many times as we possibly can
• The kids' art collection is mainly recycled food boxes with some staples

Seriously though, it can be tough.  I work full time in paid employment while the Gentleman Builder homeschools the kids, looks after the farm, builds the house and keeps up with the standard household chores of cooking, cleaning and washing.  on weekends, after a full week of work I come home to work on the building.  To help out the Gentleman Builder and allow him to spend as much time as possible to build I make and freeze meals for the family for the next week. 

I don't make a spectacular wage, a little above the Victorian state average of  $60K.  With that I support our family of four and fund the build.  I'm not going to mince words; we live pretty close to the wire.  We have no spare money for holidays and there is no fat if something goes wrong. If I were to lose my job, we'd last about a fortnight.  That's not a pretty place to be with two dependent children and is a cause of stress for me at times.  Knowing that we have taken this path by choice helps me to move through the stress and see how I am helping set us up for the future.

We have deliberately chosen not to take a mortgage out for the build.  There are a number of reasons for this:

1. I believe the economic climate we live in is precarious at best at the moment
2. We don't want any financial institution to have any whiff of a right to come and repossess our residence if the economy falls flat.  
3. I like the fact that we actually own the things we have.  While we don't have much, what we do have is all ours.
4. Debt worries the Gentleman Builder and I don't like for him to be stressed

And we're not the only ones that have downsized and are living mortgage free. There are many out there doing the very same.  There are plenty of sites offering advice on how to get to the point where you no longer have a mortgage.

To be honest, life would be much easier if we took out a loan.  We would be able to get all the things we want for the shouse.  Not having a mortgage and paying for things in cash makes us seriously contemplate every choice that we make.  A side-effect is that living without a mortgage has made us make more sustainable choices too, which I am very happy about.  I am being true to myself and the things I believe in and I like that sense of authenticity.  We have used many recycled materials in our build which we possibly would not have done if we had money available for other options.  I am honestly very grateful for that.  Money can, on occasion, cloud judgement.  Not having money forces you to make choices about everything.  

And we are actually not 100% debt free.  My parents have also helped us (thanks be to the Bank of Mum) out with a small, no interest loan so we could buy a stainless steel tank (which would have been out of reach with our budget).  The plan is that once we are living on site and the building is complete we should be able to save the money we owe and pay it back within a few months.

However, there is a cost associated with not having a bank mortgage - an extended build time.   Because we don't buy in labour the build is slow  (which is not surprising considering the Gentleman Builder educates the kids; feeds and waters the livestock and maintains the home we live in).  The building process is unrelenting with single tasks dragging out for weeks or months making progress on the build doggedly slow.  At times I find it infuriating.  Some days I am so sick of working on the shouse (and I just want it to be finished so we can live there) that I question our choices and worry that we have made a terrible mistake.  If the kids were in school the Gentleman Builder would have 6 uninterrupted hours a day, five days a week to build.  Additionally he would not have to rush around organising curriculum and planning lessons.  He would not have to dedicate hours to learning new skills (like copperplate and German) to be able to pass this on to our children.  However, when I catch a glimpse of the kids running around or feeding the pigs or chatting to the steer, or I see the joy and pride on the Gentleman Builder's face as the kids read I know that we have done the right thing.  For us.

Jack (or Jill) of all trades

Little Miss loves ballet.  When I heard that Rasta Thomas' Rock the Ballet was coming to Melbourne, I bought tickets.  We went to the matinee show on Sunday and Little Miss loved it.  Padawan wasn't that keen to begin with but the acrobatics and music won him over in the end.

Watching the exceptionally talented, fit and flexible dancers made me feel totally unqualified to be human.  I can't do a backflip.  Or put my foot behind my ear while standing on one foot.  I can't do the splits or pirouette.  I doubt I can even do a forward roll any more.   To add insult to injury, I cannot sing.  Or act.  Or talk in a foreign accent.  I am not known for my mathematical genius.  Or any other kind of genius, for that matter.  I don't have any exceptional human talents.

I understand that I am not "one in 6 billion" that has a special talent.  I can, however, do most things to some degree of competence.  I am not an expert on anything in particular but more a Jack (or perhaps Jill) of all trades.  I believe that the majority of people in the world are, too.  I think that by experimenting in different things we become more adaptable and therefore more competent in each of the things we try.  I think the ability to do multiple things competently stems from the fact that every experience can provide the opportunity for transferable skills.  As humans, we have the ability to draw on previous learnings when presented with a unique experience. We are also capable of doing a very broad range of tasks.

Now, while I am not a "one in 6 billion" I can sew (not straight or fast), bake, swing a hammer, paint, add (and subtract!), organise things according to priorities, use power tools, give a manicure, make jam, write lists, use a chainsaw, split wood and do yoga (albeit not well or with finesse).  I can even dance.  And while I will never be a ballerina, I get great joy from dancing.  And, for me, that's enough.