John Mayer’s ‘Back to you’ ends with a variation to the chorus:

Back to me, I know that it comes

Back to me

Doesn’t it scare you?

The will is not as strong as it used to be.

I’m fairly certain John wasn’t writing specifically about me and my creative life, yet when I opened the laptop today, ‘Back to You’ swirled around in my brain.

Back to me, I know that it comes, back to me… whether that’s blogging or creating with pen and brushes or getting the damn dishes done and the groceries purchased and put away, it always comes around, back to me.

To answer John’s question, no, it doesn’t scare me that the will is not as strong as it used to be. This life isn’t all about will. We’re not here to white-knuckle through life’s ups and downs until we reach our deathbeds.

Can you think of someone who has tried to will themselves to follow a punishing diet, or stick it out in a relationship that’s bad for them, or fold themselves into a small enough, quiet enough, agreeable enough box to appease their loudest critic (internal or external)? I can. Did it work for them? They’d probably tell you that will failed them at a crucial moment. They know, sometimes from bitter experience, that the will isn’t all it is cracked up to be.

More than that, things aren’t supposed to stay as they “used to be”.

As I was walking down the hall before work yesterday, a thought popped into my head. Why do women face so much pressure to get their pre-baby bodies “back”? Why does the body have to go backwards? Why can’t the body evolve, and be different? Spoiler alert: these questions will not be answered in this post. Sorry.

I think the reason that my brain’s jukebox decided to play that particular JM track today stems from re-immersing myself into creative practices.

This month, I’ve decided to draw/paint/sketch every day, simply to reconnect with making art. I am also doing a wonderful online creative writing course called Writey-Oh! by Pip Lincolne. She’s my fave creative teacher, but you probably know that already!

By painting, by drawing, by reading Pip’s lessons and doing creative writing exercises, I feel like I am gathering kindling for the fire, or ingredients for a recipe.

Gathering kindling is all well and good, but it’s not how you make fire. Grocery shopping isn’t the same thing as serving dinner.

The point of it all is living a creative life – that comes back to me.

Unless I light that kindling and chop and combine those ingredients, I’ll remain creatively cold and hungry. Perhaps will is the ability to gather what’s needed. It gets us so far, but it alone cannot create the life we want.

Hmm, that’s a good metaphor for me. I’ve never been a big believer in the will, as mine lets me down regularly. It’s okay if yours does too, I won’t tell.

I know that it comes, back to me… and I wouldn’t want in any other way.

Annette x

Hello, do you feel the change in the air? 

I do. The days are getting longer, the sun is flexing her muscles and shining more brightly, trees that have been bare for months are in bud, and the view is beautiful. 

All of these changes are as old as time itself. Year after year, sometimes earlier than expected, sometimes later, the seasons change. We stop reaching for our coats and venture out in less layers. We throw open the windows on the weekends, rather than stoking the fire or turning up the heater. We move with the seasons. They lead, always have, always will.  

I love observing the changes from season to season. 

If you don’t pay attention, you miss so much beauty.

Look around, you might be surprised at what you see. 

This is what’s before me today. Beautiful food I need (and want) to spend time preparing, cooking and storing. What an immense privilege it is to have access to such a bounty. This is wealth. 

Look around today. 

Look at what you have, what you can see, where you are. 

I hope that as you do, you see the beauty and wealth that I see. We have so much. We also have pain and struggle and pressures, I know, but those things never get better by refusing to see what else we have. 

That’s all. 

With love, 

 

Annette xx 

 

 

Hello. 

I’ve been waiting to write this post for a long time but I’ve always chickened out. Here I go. 

I’m having trouble reconciling my growing desire to speak out on subjects I feel passionate about, with the way I used to speak out about things I believed passionately. 

I have been so worried about sounding strident and prescriptive that I’ve simply stopped saying what I want to say. It’s crazy. And it’s time to try and explain why. Please stick with me. 

I want to be clear –  I’m reflecting on my experiences, how I’ve changed and how those changes leave me feeling about my days in a position of influence in the Christian communities I was part of in years gone by. 

Looking back, I feel a bit like I was a member of the Thought Police for Jesus. In the churches I attended, the level of fundamentalism, biblical literalism and group think has varied. Until I wasn’t, I was pretty gung-ho about living by the rules, as I understood them – or was instructed to understand them. 

The thing is, sincerity does not cover a multitude of sins. A person can be deeply sincere in their beliefs, and profoundly mistaken, misguided and even dangerous. That’s how I now feel about my sincere spiritual police work. 

There is nothing at all wrong with having a set of principles to live by, be they Christian, animist, Hindu or humanist. 

The stumbling block comes when a like-minded community becomes a place where making sure other people toe the line or bow the knee is prioritised. The idea of being your “brother’s keeper” has been bastardised beyond recognition. 

Loving others is a generous, expansive act. Control is the complete opposite of love. It doesn’t hope, trust or believe. 

Dressing up the urge to control others as a measure of love and spirituality…. I don’t want to put into words what I feel about that. For my part in that kind of behaviour, I feel mortified and embarrassed that I ever sincerely thought I had not only the right, but the responsibility to tell other people how to live. 

Reflecting on my experiences as a spiritual mentor of sorts to people is not black and white, though what you’ve read so far may lead you to think I see it that way. I loved the bonds of friendship I formed with the people I spent all my time with. We had purpose, we felt called to something greater than ourselves, we were serving our hearts out. I have dear friends who are still serving their hearts out, and I love and respect them for it. 

So what’s all that got to do with my ever diminishing blog? 

The fear of reverting back to being prescriptive and narrow in my opinions has stopped me from writing. I am so determined not to become the 2.0 of the Thought Police that I’ve censored myself into having nothing to say. 

Trouble is, I have so much I want to say. What I’m grappling with is how to say the things I want to say while maintaining a deep respect for the differing points of view, life experiences and wells of joy and pain we each carry. 

This is hard stuff. 

I’m trusting that those of you who know me, or have been reading the blog for a while, have read this far into this odd blog post. 

I am trusting that who I am somehow gets transmitted through my words. 

I guess I’m wondering if I can trust myself to speak my truth without slipping into old habits. 

Writing this down here is one of the first steps. I’ve been having a few conversations about this with people lately, trying to find my feet. I would genuinely be grateful if you’d let me know what your reaction to this post. 

Deep breath, it’s time to press publish. 

 

Annette x 

 

Hello. 

Do you like this photo? 

I do. It’s kind of like my brain tonight, a bit fuzzy yet still pleasing to look at. It’s actually an out of focus photo of evening traffic. Loads of people in their cars, waiting at the lights, heading for home after a hard day at the office. 

Tonight, the Friday of our beloved Queen’s – long may she reign – Birthday long weekend (her b’day is actually in April BTW), I sat in the traffic feeling like the top portion of this photo, mostly blankish, and super keen to get home and go promptly to bed. I was in my pjs in bed at 6:37pm. Yep. Ace. 

Now it’s a few hours later and I’m cosy cosy cosy and I have been eating corn chips and avocado dip and listening to Stephen Fry talk about electricity, magnetism and Napoleon. He’s a very clever and entertaining man. 

I’m going to take a “pick and mix” approach to the classic Pip Lincolne Taking Stock post, if you don’t mind. I felt like blogging tonight, but because of my blankish brain, I thought her prompts might be helpful. 

Here we go! 

Making: I have plans to make bread this weekend. Baking my own bread means I can scoff toast with jam, or toast with eggs – never both – without worrying about all the sodium that’s in shop bought loaves. It’s a great thing to make your own. 

Reading: I’ve just started Reckoning by Magda Szubanski. I hope I’m going to get through it, it’s a BIG book. 

Drinking: A little beverage I call an Edna. It’s half lemonade and half orange juice. Edna was my grandma, and something about this drink reminds me of her. Did your grandparents get crates of Loy’s Lemonade delivered? All kinds of spiffy flavours, and wonderful glass bottles. It’s a nostalgic, happy bevvie. Do try it! 

Cooking: Lately I’ve been cooking with lots of lentils, couscous and chickpeas. Roast pumpkin and chickpeas, tossed with spinach and a little feta is a great quick feed. Lentils in a slow simmered tomato sauce with mushrooms is a recurring dish. And then there’s my beloved Jamie Oliver chookballs with beans, capsicum and coconut milk. Yum. 

Wanting: A little more spark in my soul. 

Waiting: To see if my very recently increased dosage of antidepressants brings some of the spark back. 

Watching: Farenheit 451, The Handmaid’s Tale, Sister Wives, MasterChef Australia. 

Wearing: Right now, jimjams, but during the working week lots of pants, boots and warm jumper combos. Winter’s here! 

Enjoying: I met a brand new human this week, my newest nephew Riley. I shared a photo of us on Instagram, he’s so sweet and tiny! I now have ten nieces and nephews. TEN! They are all lovely kids, even the ones who are young adults already. 

Snacking: Toasted pita bread and dip, when I’ve run out of the only corn chips I’ve found that are *almost* low sodium. I’m also getting into berry yoghurt with a hefty sprinkling of walnuts, seeds and dried cranberries. 

Getting: Tired. My blankish brain is conking out on me, so I’ll wrap up now. 

Whether you’re in regular or long weekend mode, I hope you get some good sleep, spend time with peeps you like, and eat some chocolate. I’ve got some milky hazelnut chocolate within arms reach, so I’m outta here! 

Be good to your brains, whether they’re blankish or frantic or blessedly somewhere in between. 

✌🏼️

Annette x