Life: So wrong it’s right.

Image by @tezzab via We Heart It.

Image by @tezzab via We Heart It.

Like Killer Pythons and The Lion King, it seems that a broken arm, leg, finger or something, is an essential part of growing up.

Even I, the girl whose idea of a ‘daredevilish’ time is a round on the Ferris Wheel, have endured the torment of broken a bone – admittedly I was one year of age, and it wasn’t my fault.

But Mum has sweetly kept the miniature cast of my thunder thing toddler leg, proving that I’m a fully fledged survivor and the truth that falling down and getting hurt is part of life.

We stumble, often really hard, so hard that the pain is not just a temporary scratch able to be remedied by a cool Wiggles band-aid, but one whose ache lingers for at least 6 weeks, and leaves a great looking scar forever.

But I recently learned something interesting about this: a bone that is broken will heal to be stronger than it was before.

So it seems Yeezy was onto something when he said “Na-na-na that that don’t kill me, can only make me stronger”. Interesting.

It seems that no matter how much Milo smothered milk you drink and how much spinach you eat to keep your bones ‘strong and healthy’, the best thing you can do is to break them, and force their strengthening the hard way – obviously more painful but hey, if it gets the job done right?

Now I’m not suggesting you start attempting backflips and trapeze swinging as a method of toughening up – if you do, at least get a go pro and share the footage around – but I am asking that you see the value in being broken.

I know at the time, a broken bone, crushed heart, shattered dream and battered ego is a brutal sentence, but trust in Mr. Kanye West and rest easy in the knowledge that such tremors “makes us harder, better, faster, stronger”.

We learn far more from our mistakes than our successes, and a huge part of living in this day and age, is our responsibility to abuse the opportunities we are given. No doubt you’ll fall, oh honey, you’re going to crash and burn.

Your world will fall apart, and fall apart again. You’ll stop having fun with your ‘best friend’ and be forced to find a new one, you will stop enjoying your job, mangoes will go out of season and your favourite show will release its finale. Your dream job won’t want you, neither will Ryan Gosling, and you are going to make wrong decisions again and again.

It’s all part of it, and that’s okay. Just know that there is value in getting it wrong, and most of the time it’s so wrong it’s right.

So jump higher than you think you can, and don’t be too afraid of coming back down, because:

Work it harder.

Make it better.

Do it faster.

Makes us stronger.

More than ever.

Love, S.

 

Nailing the Fail.

Buzz Kill by Arrow Divine via Instagram. Shot by Cloudy Rhodes.

Buzz Kill by Arrow Divine via Instagram.
Shot by Cloudy Rhodes.

There’s a lot of noise surrounding this whole ‘Just Do It’, ‘Never Give Up’ mentality, and I’m about to put my foot down.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Nike ‘tick’ as much as the next person, but I’m thinking that there’s something quite profound in failure, or as I like to call it, ‘strategic quitting’.

Sounds like an oxymoron and a half I know, but considering the lack of hours in a day, days in a week, weeks in a year and years in a lifetime, I’m going to be a selective snob, and say that quitting and ‘failing’ is kind of really great!

Personally, I couldn’t even tell you how many times I’ve stopped reading a new book after just not ‘feeling it’ within the first 5 pages, how many restaurants my friends and I have ditched after being ‘not totally in love’ with the menu options, or how many movies I’ve only watched 20 minutes of.

Am I Picky? Yes.

A possessor of obscenely high expections? Definitely.

A changeling? Most likely.

But I’m going to own these nuances, and pretend that I’m onto something, something good.

Because, in the past week, a lot of events are really leading me to believe that we only make plans to change them, and that we seek to follow rules only to be a badass and break them anyway.

Unfortunately, the ‘choice’ to discontinue a fad diet, long-term relationship or ‘dream’ career is often labeled as failure with a capital ‘F’, but in my opinion, life is way too short for bad vibes, and if being a failure is what it comes down to, I’ll claim that badge proudly.

Because there HAS to be some profound beauty in walking away – in making new tracks, singing new songs and completely turning your back on something that just doesn’t fit anymore.

I mean, why bother wasting your time drinking bad coffee, finishing an ugly seagull puzzle, or pouring energy into a relationship that doesn’t make you laugh until your cheeks hurt?

So throw the coffee down the sink and make a new one with cinnamon on top and extra sugar, throw away that puzzle and stop making an effort with those who don’t appreciate it.

Don’t feel sorry for yourself, embrace and be the change. There’s no excuse but you don’t need one.

It’s called failing to win.

Love, S.

How liquid breakfast pulled me through a mini-crisis.

Image by James Lee Parry for Oyster Magazine.

Image by James Lee Parry for Oyster Magazine.

I recently had an epiphany on Up&Go’s claim of possessing the ‘goodness’ of 2 Weetbix and Milk.

It’s an inventive marketing ploy, to embed ‘goodness’ into something as simple as 3 breakfast ingredients, but the events of a certain yesterday have taught me that such combinations really are, inherently god sent.

I’ll break it down for you.

The events which took place less than 24 hours ago, saw me:

  • Experience one of my worst fears: getting a flat tyre, driving high speed on the freeway,
  • At the most inconvenient of times: on the way to an end of semester exam worth 70% of my overall mark,
  • In undesirable circumstances: 120km northwesterly winds, torrential rain and a deep dark sky.

Needless to say, my insurance finally came in handy after an almost perfect 3-year term on my P-Plates. I mean, I was running a stellar track record, and was was pretty proud of having acquired nothing more than a cheeky bump into the back of an old commodore, in my attempts to escape the Safeway car park up to this point.

But this was a whole new playing field, one requiring me to jump on board a tow truck, and effectively miss the essential 10 minute duration of exam reading time (not to mention the ENTIRE exam).

It was horrible, literally the worst possible thing that could have happened, but I have surprised myself in thinking that it was the BEST sequence of events to occur on that very, Melbourne day.

Firstly, I didn’t swerve off the road and cause a major collision, disrupting the homecoming traffic on a major freeway.

Secondly, I didn’t have to suffer a wrongly, prolonged exam duration – the lecturer accidentally prescribed the 3 hour exam as 4 hours on this exam day. Ew.

Thirdly, I came out alive without so much as a broken nail. AMEN!

My RACV ‘knight in shining armour’ says if I’d driven any further, the rubber part of my tyre would have completely stripped off, leaving me rolling fast paced on the metal part of my wheel – a prospect which could have been extremely catastrophic given the weather and road conditions.

This deserves another AMEN, because to be honest, I am in no position to accept any liability – I have a flight to all things Rome: Meatballs, Nonnas, Vespa rides and Italian stallions, in 48 hours time.

So essentially, I am one grateful cookie that these whole shenanigans played out they way they did. I am alive, I am safe and I finally got a chance to make use of those endless insurance fees.

Sure it doesn’t have the protein, energy and fibre of 2 Weetbix and Milk like my favourite, Chocolate Up&Go carton, but it’s pretty damn full of goodness.

Yay for being alive!

Where can you source goodness today? Holla!

[contact-form] .

Life Lessons from Biggie Smalls.

Notorious B.I.G.

Notorious B.I.G.

Minimalism. I could start and end this entire post with that one word. Now I know exam-time is the usual antithesis for uncovering many of life’s mysteries, I mean, let’s not be ashamed of mastering choux pastry all in the name of procrasti-baking. But honestly, on my hunt to find ways of distracting myself from memorising all of Spanish’s three past tenses, I am learning a whole lot more than the difference between singular and plural conjugations.

I am realising how badly I want to uncomplicate my life.

Call it a cull, call it a quarter life crisis, call it me being totally warped and mildly insane, or take it from me, and call it nothing but a change.

I can’t blame these epiphanies merely on pending exams, because I think a lot of my musing is borne from the fast approaching departure date of my latest, trip of a lifetime. It seems that in every lead up to this type of adventure, I really begin to question well, everything.

What am I going to learn?

Who am I going to meet?

What am I going to see?

Where am I going to be?

How am I going to feel?

What song will be the soundtrack to this journey?

Will I change? Will I be different?

Will home be different when I get back?

Do I even want anything to be different?

Am I even ready to do this, to bail all over again on comfort in order for something so totally foreign that I can’t really even pronounce it with my lips let alone my feelings?

I soon get pretty caught up in all these questions, trying to answer them with yet another three issues, which have become illuminated by the initial query.

But as I try to take it slow, attempt to calm myself and focus on the present – because that’s all we really have, I realize that again, I have supremely complicated everything.

And so this minimalist thing pops up once more. It could be a phase, or it could be a turning point: a pre-emptive change into the person I will be when I begin to legitimately grow-up. I’m not sure who she is, what she looks like, or if she will have ultimately experienced that growth spurt I am currently still waiting on, but right now, I know she wants simplicity.

As I look back now on the past 6 months  – which from my mum’s standards has seen me be ‘way too busy’ for my own good, and from my grandmother’s perspective, has inspired her to tell me to ‘slow down and take care of myself’ each time we converse over green teas – it seems that their wishes for me to tone it down a notch have officially rubbed off.

So beloved matriarchs, here it is. I’m toning it down.

I won’t take on 5 projects at once all because the opportunities exist, and I won’t say yes to being in three places at once simply because I drive a fast Jag with iPod connectivity to get me through the distance. I won’t sleep only 5 hours a night because there’s too much to do, and I won’t need to use an excel spreadsheet to organize my professional and social life. What I will do however is follow my heart over my head. If it excites, scares, intimidates and challenges me then YES! But I’m over wasting my time.

So in the name of Europe, South America and whichever other continent I decide to ambush in the next year, I’m ready to step up.

I am ready to focus, to work smarter not harder, to laugh louder, and smile wider than ever before. But there’s a catch. A little sentence that will lead me through it all, one offered by none other than Biggie himself:

“Stay far from timid. Only make moves when your heart’s in it and live the phrase: the sky’s the limit.”

If your heart is in ‘it’, it’s worth mentioning, and if it’s worth mentioning, capturing and writing down it’s important. Because honestly, what is important, is very important.

So bay-bee, what’s important to you? I’d love to know what gives you excited shivers. Get in touch!

Sheona xo.

[contact-form] .

#100happydays ago…

Image via Instagram @thesheonaexperiment.

100 days ago I committed myself to the longest relationship I have ever had in my life to a hashtag. My delirious suitor being, #100happydays.  100 days ago, it seemed like a logical thing to do, I mean, I had … Continue reading