Negativity is a Health Hazard

It's one of those occasions where I feel the Universe is sending me lots of small but determined nudges to write this post, ever more insistent are these nudges, and the last one (about half an hour ago) was like a sharp rabbit kick in the ribs.  Ouch, that hurt.  Hurts even more to know people I care about are hurting as much as they are, but can't seem to find their way into the light.  This one's for you...

It has been an interesting and extremely busy but joyful couple of days.  Communing with nature, people, friends, babies, a shark, a huge python, and then the past knocking on my consciousness today, not once but twice... but with nothing positive to say.  That's why they say when the past comes knocking, don't answer - it has nothing new to say.

I was surrounded by babies yesterday morning.  Four, to be exact - all cute as buttons, gorgeous uncaring little blank slates, lying wriggling on their colourful little blankies, playing with their mobiles, cooing, dribbling like a leaky tap as the odd first tooth tries to make its determined way through those tiny pink baby gums, A room with lots of bubbies, their gorgeous young mums, and the room smelt divine, of hope, talc, and the joy of new beginnings.  I revelled in it, in fact spent a fair portion of the morning down amongst the infants, fascinated by their ease with their world, enjoying their moments, with no thoughts of an hour ago or an hour forward, until the time would arrive when hunger would strike, they would insist, and be rapidly appeased, only to sink back into contented slumber and blissful little half smiles on their pure baby lips.

My gorgeous 14 year old daughter sits beside me, playing too, and it wasn't so long ago that she was one of these tiny unfettered miracles who know how to just be, and by instinct.  Too soon, they will take on board the world around them, and develop their own little worries and insecurities.  But for now, they are perfectly perfect.  Complete with scant hair, wobbly chins, chubby legs and toothless smiles, they know they're adorable and so do we.  A smile sends we adults into raptures, a careless giggle - what could be better?  I'm grinning from ear to ear, and when I leave two hours later, my smile muscles ache.

An afternoon kayak with a lovely friend follows, and we paddle peacefully among lots of happy humanity, out enjoying their day, whether they're barbecuing, singing, dancing, boating, fishing, swimming... they are embracing all that's good in the world, and so are we, both singularly, together, and collectively, just feeling the gratitude for the happiness state we get to enjoy so very, very much.  It's raining when we start out, and that matters not as we'll get wet anyway.  After a while, we get some sunshine and then it goes again.. then we swim, and sit, and talk, and contemplate, just enjoying our now, which is the best spot to hang out.  It's time to head home, and we then decide to take the dog for a run to end the afternoon.  Big doggy smiles all round at that one!  Then an amazingly delicious Thai dinner follows, where I get to try lots of different and unusual tastes - for a kid that used to subsist solely on pizza and coke and a hell of a lot of sadness and pain and total loneliness, I've come a damn long way, with still far to go... and man I'm loving this journey!

Today I woke up to the past stalking me overnight again via Facebook.. a semi regular occurrence, even after eight years of blocking, deleting, not reacting, hoping this thorn in my side will go away someday.  It's not a sharp one anymore, more like an occasional prick (no pun intended!) just reminding me that perhaps there's still something that needs to happen there, before that particular wound will be allowed to heal forever.  I ponder it, finger paused on the Block button that I've hit fruitlessly so many times before.  And because these days I think and act so differently, my mind turned to a positive way of dealing with something so negative.. and I sent a positive message.  And then hit the Block button.  Time of course will tell if this was the action that needed to happen to end it forever, but as they say, there's madness in doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.  I'm positively hopeful, and meanwhile there's a good life to lead...

We then caught up with some old, old friends, and it struck me the stark contrast between two of the three present.  Two positive, seeing the good, feeling hopeful, smiling and enjoying the now.. one negative, looking for more negatives to feed it, and satisfaction in finding what they were looking for.  Because the world is a truly cruddy place when your mind and actions are set in the negative, and never in the Now.  Regret over what's happened to you, anger about why things never go right for you, as you struggle endlessly in the trenches at the whim of the world which keeps kicking you in the teeth over and over again, and ever harder.  The Universe wants you to pick yourself up, learn the lesson, so it can move on to the next one. The Universe is a patient teacher, but it gets a bit tired of waiting for us to get it.  If you spend too long on it, the pain becomes horrendous and the doom and gloom self perpetuating.  And I don't know how you can get off that particular treadmill.  Nobody could help me get off mine either; but anyway I always had plenty of company on there so it was a safe miserable place to hide... until I had to take the great leap of faith when life became just so painful that I couldn't go on in the way I was living.  I'm hoping those I care for will get there also, and can't wait to welcome then when they do!

A phone call tonight (my second past comin' a-knockin') and this one from about a quarter of a century ago (gosh, am I that old!) and I immediately felt the angst down that phone line; it fairly vibrated with it!  Kind words, positive encouragement, and I'm trying to share the joy, light the way forward, even just a flicker might be enough... sometimes it's all one needs, to start finding their way out of the darkness, but only if they're open to it at that particular time.. The door slamming shut firmly, not once but a few times, any positivity rejected cleanly and completely; they are not ready yet for such an alien concept when one's life situation is so dreadful in its complete hopelessness.  All that anger, kept under lock and key, and some of it almost escaped, but was then quickly forced back into its Pandora's box and the lid nailed shut.. until next time.  I'm sad for them, and yet it's their journey and their choice to make, whether they believe me or not.  And they don't.

As I munch my last jam drop biscuit, freshly baked by the lovely apprentice baker in the family this afternoon, I'm happy to finish this post, not to spread the negativity around, but to give you hope and a bit of insight, so far as I'm able to in my limited and very amateur way because I'm still a Johnny Come Lately in this happy game I now call Life... but oh I'm learning so fast...

It's just as easy to be positive as it is to be negative.
It's as easy to smile as to frown.
It's as easy to be grateful for what you have, instead of what you don't have.
It's as easy to be proud of yourself, as to beat yourself up.
It's as easy to spread the joy and love as it is to keep your sadness and disappointment locked away.
It's as easy to grow as it is to stand still.
And it's as easy to enjoy life and whatever it offers, as it is to not embrace it.

If I could have learnt this years ago, I might be a wise old owl today.  Better late than never I say, and that goes for everyone else.  It's never too late to become the positive and amazing human you were born to be.  It just involves letting go the past, embracing the Now.. and the future will take care of itself.

It's that perfectly and beautifully simple.

Smile, and the whole world smiles with you.  Frown, and you walk alone, sister.

Yours in positivity....Xxxoox

I can almost see it.

That dream I'm dreaming, but

There's a voice inside my head saying

You'll never reach it

Every step I'm takin'

Every move I make

Feels lost with no direction,

My faith is shakin'

But I, I gotta keep tryin'

Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side

It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing

The chances I'm taking

Sometimes might knock me down, but

No I'm not breaking

I may not know it, but

These are the moments that

I'm gonna remember most, yeah

Just gotta keep goin',

And I, I gotta be strong

Just keep pushing on, 'cause

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side

It's the climb

Yeah

                       ...Miley Cyrus, The Climb

My Turn!

There are falls, and then there are falls.  You can go over the falls, or you can simply fall, or fall over.  You can fall in things, like love, dogshit, a mineshaft or a heap. And you can fall out, fall in, or just fall.

I'm unsure how many posts a blog titled Over The Falls is going to attract.  When I aptly named this blog in honor of the gutsy Jade, who had survived a most horrendous car accident only to find that her falls were seriously only beginning, I couldn't foresee there would be too many more posts to add here.

But what a difference a week makes.

Thursday 5 December, which just happened to be the anniversary of my mother's birthday and also the date of her demise seven years ago, was just a week shy of my own falls looming.  OK, mine was a fall.  One worthy of a mention, but not the Big Kahuna that started off this whole blog.  That one belongs to Jade.

Fast forward one week to Thursday 12 December, and it's a typical early morning at the dog beach with our beloved newly acquired pooch, aptly named Boof.  Boof-Head, Lethal Weapon, Bone Cruncher, pick your pejorative.  This time I'm there with my daughter, who had enjoyed hearing about Boof's race with his arch enemy, The Whippet, on previous occasions.  Nicolle really wanted to see The Whippet, and I wanted to show her how gutsy our dog is, in trying to catch the lightning fast little sod.

Just by way of background, Boof on a previous outing had been mooted as being "out of shape" by The Whippet's rather smug owner, a grey haired lady.  Scrap that; she was just grey.  Sort of colourless, older, shapeless.. the sort of woman who just blends into the background, no matter where she be.  I can't even visualize her now, beyond the stringy grey hair hanging down in hanks on either side of her pallid face.  Personality to match.  But she does have a damn fast dog, I'll give her that.

Boof is a four year old Australian cattle dog x german shepherd, so I think that makes him a purebred Handsome Heeler.

So Nicolle wanted to see this Speedy Gonzales of the doggy world, and also its owner who dared to slang off on our Magnificent Mutt.  So there we were, and not a whippet in sight.

We walked the length of the beach, and then returned, and were almost back at the point where we'd make the trek up the hill and head off home.  And then came one of those sliding door moments.  You know the ones, they almost make an audible clunk in time; a careless decision, a fleeting moment of waver, perhaps a small debate over what to do.  And you pick one path, when afterwards with the beauty of my old mate Hindsight who waits smirking in the wings, you damn well wish you'd chosen the other option, which was to leave at that point....

The Whippet arrived on the beach.  It came prancing down the hill, did Charlie (The Whippet), ready to lead all and sundry a merry chase.  Boof spied his speedy mate straight away, and of course went bounding over to him, and with a flick of those long, long legs, The Whippet started the game.  In no time at all, there were three or four hopefuls giving chase.  I'm laughing, shrieking for joy that the show was on once more, and that Nicolle would get to see this wonder dog that no earthly creature could catch.  The Winged Dog in full flight, and hotly pursued.

Mrs Grey wandered over, along with her partner (who wasn't grey, in fact seemed very colourful indeed) and remarked on how her wonder dog wasn't even trying, just playing with our lesser hounds, and that they were wasting their time because no creature would ever catch it.  And I'm willing Boof to pull out something extra, whether it be tucking his head in that bit more, fold back the ears, son, or make a sneaky cut corner, whatever it took, to land the rabbit.  Boof was determined.. and clever.  He'd wait till The Whippet would run in a big arc, then he'd wait and cut straight across the field, and come close enough to comb its leg hairs with his teeth.  To no avail.  The next thing The Whippet did was steal another dog's tennis ball, barely slowing to do so, and then leading the others in a merry chase, taunting them with the ball in its mouth.  Nasty little critter.  Mrs Grey of course remarking that nothing would slow her prize down, he could do ANYTHING.

The Whippet ran past me like a white streak, and Boof was in hot pursuit.  But at the last moment, Boof feinted to the right to go around me on the other side.  Unfortunately there was a serious lack of judgment there, mine in thinking he'd make it around me, and his in misjudging how much room I actually took up.

The next thing that happened was he of the 29.5 kilos (because he could stand to lose a few apparently) collided with the side of my bent right knee.  He didn't exactly send it into orbit, but there was a most massive explosion of pain, the leg collapsed with its kneecap somewhere in the ether, and I landed in a pile on the sand, shrieking different words this time.  Boof of course never slowed, and it would have been at least some consolation if he had have landed the prize.  But he didn't.  He came back to apologise a few moments later, as I lay on the sand, clutching what was left of my leg.

The knee had sort of found its way back into its usual spot, as it has been wont to do on its previous outings, so after I'd stopped shaking from shock, I tried to stand up.  Nope, the knee was having none of that.  In the end, Mr Grey hauled me to my feet, whilst I could feel Mrs Grey eyeing me somewhat disapprovingly.  Mr Grey pointed out his own knee brace to me; I'm thinking that little rat on nitrous has a lot to answer for!  And having got to my feet, I managed to stand there for a bit, then after some conversation about how bad it had looked - and was - I started to hobble back to the car.  I was determined to be able to do that, and if nothing else, it looked damn gutsy on my part!  But oh, it did hurt.  Nicolle was quite horrified, as she'd seen the knee go sideways, and asked if I needed her to prop me up.  Nope, I'm bullheaded enough to manage that one on my own.  But I did rather wish that we'd gone home, oh, about five minutes earlier after all.

So we reached the car, and while Nicolle loaded our dog into the rear of the wagon, I somehow managed to fold myself and my shattered leg into the driver's seat, hoping I could at least get us home.  So far, so good. We arrived home, and then I sort of managed to hop inside... and collapse.

The knee swelled up like a balloon within the space of about an hour, and when I went to stand on it not longer after I'd sat down, it simply wasn't going to cooperate.  Bolts of pain straight up through the leg at the slightest hint of weight going on to it.  My friend Denise who luckily is a nurse and always seems to know what to do, was my first port of call, and she turned up not long afterwards with crutches.  The leg was that swollen, it didn't even feel sore anymore as I sat there, only when I attempted to use it in any way did it sing out Ave Maria Leave Me Be.  There was a big water balloon around the joint, which no amount of ice was going to deflate anytime soon.

It's Sunday today, and again what a difference a few days make.  Thursday and Friday were a total write-off, of sitting, icing, painkillers, watching back to back movies, and being a total couch potato.  Nicolle of course went out in sympathy; I think my lack of movement made her feel extremely active by comparison!  I'm normally the Eveready Bunny who can't sit still; now I still can't sit still, but some joker has taped up my cymbals for a while. Doh.

After two days of this hell, I visited the doc who confirmed what I already knew.  It was no simple dislocation (because if it were, like previous occasions I'd be up and about straight away, wearing  a knee brace, wincing a bit at the pain, but getting on with business).  This had actually caused me to take two days off work - in the sedentary work at home role that I do, I have to be almost dead to need to do that.  Apparently I'd torn the medial ligament, as yet unconfirmed, but the MRI and Xrays next week will confirm the extent of it, and the treatment.

The treatment?  The good doc says that it comes down to age, and activity.  Being 49 and active, I should have a total rebuild now, because if I don't, my knees will fall apart in 15 years time when nobody will operate on them because of my age.  This brought home to me the depressing state of affairs that in 15 years time, my need to be active will play second banana to my age and the perceived pointlessness of restoring my physical health at that time.  Apparently when you're 65, you no longer have need of such things like knees that work.  So long as your crochet hook claw hold is intact, and your reading glasses firmly on your nose...

Stuff that.

So yesterday I started walking instead, briefly with crutches, and then totally without.  I strapped up my knee with two lots of bracing, and then cooked myself a risotto.  And did the washing.  My knee wobbled, whinged, wavered.. and I went to bed exhausted at 8pm on a Saturday night.

Today I walked to Aldi and did some shopping, under the watchful eye of Denise, and carried my own bag of goodies home.  I rewarded myself with strawberry cheesecake for not falling over on the way back.  And now I'm writing about the whole sorry tale.  And tomorrow I'm teaching Boof to read it so he never does it again. Bad Dog.

You never know when life is going to take you over the falls, just ask Jade.  And you make of it what you have to, suffer the pain, the frustration, pick yourself up, and go forward as fast as you can.... My fall is not going to be more than a blip on my radar, cos as the song says, "I ain't got time fo' dis."  Way too much living to do!

Appreciation to the treasured friends who stepped up and offered assistance, and of course to my wonderful daughter who was the best ice girl ever, as well as making chocolate brownies for us to enjoy, and keeping me company through some really long long movies.  To Boof, the million dollar Gumtree dog (who's now cost me $350 in vet bills last week and two days lost pay and a broken knee this week) all is forgiven of course, but get your bloody eyes checked, would ya!  To Noosa, thank you for raining continuously for the first 24 hours so I could feel seriously great about putting my feet up, resting and eating bad things.. you came to the party as always! I'll be dancing around town again real soon, look out  xxxxx

Sail on, Silver Girl...

Dami's rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Waters on XFactor last night made me cry, and has had me remaining solemn for much of today.

"When you're weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all

I'm on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out
When you're on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you

I'll take your part
When darkness comes
And pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on Silver Girl,
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way

See how they shine
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind"

-Simon & Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Water

In the Alfred Hospital tonight, there lies someone very dear to me, and to many.  She's only 16, full of cheeky life, adventure and the sheer unadultered beauty that is youth.  She's a fellow writer, like me, so we share the joy of imagination and words.  So Jadey, these words tonight are just for you.

We've been following your brave battle over the last week, with agony and with hope.  With prayers, even for those of us who aren't religious, because let's leave no stone unturned here.  There's a battle ahead.  And we have faith. In your courage, your dogged determination, and your sheer guts, and the glory that must hopefully follow that, because that's your right.

Your story has just begun, and those of us who have been privileged enough to share it, heartfelt thanks for that.  But we want more, and your time in the sun will come again, and soonest....

Sleep, baby, sleep.  Tomorrow is a brand new day, the road is long and winding but the path is there for you to make yours.  And we're all waiting for you.....

Buckets of love, hugs, hope and tears..... Xoooxxxooo