i love me a good pray

I pray alot. I mean a.lot. You could nearly say i am in a constant state of prayer. Or another way to think of it is that prayer is my personal white noise. White noise for those who've not heard the term is basically background noise. Static. Because we dont watch teevee or listen to radio as such in our house, we have zero white noise...ah the bliss. It leaves a lot of space for general pottering around prayer. Unless im consciously thinking about it sometimes i dont even realise im doing it anymore.
I used to pray to a God. Yes just one specific God. But these days that is not quite inline with my personal beliefs whilst also being completely inline with my personal beliefs if you get my drift.
One of my favourite sayings is "there are as many roads to god as there are breaths of sons of god.'

This isnt meant to be about religion but i guess im just inlcuding it as its relevant to who/ what i pray to & how i pray.

To me...god is all. everywhere everything. god is not religion. god is existance. oh & god most definitely is love. god loves love. god loves love so much god decided to be love...man i love that.
So when i pray, i pray to all. i send my prayers, my thoughts, intentions, desires out to god...outward & inward to everything.
i offer & i request. i connect with god, with everything external of me & with everything internal of me....& i pray. oh i love me a good prayer. you know what i love better than a good prayer? when you can see the power of your prayer manifest around you...within you.

ps: feel free to replace the word god with universe, mother nature, God (in his/ her various religious forms), earth, gody god god, universe, goddess, angel...whatever or whoever god means to you.

shit or get off - a whinge about whingers

there is only so much whinging i can handle...either mine or others.

people are pigs. im sick of sitting in traffic. why are people so angry. there is so much crime in our neighbourhood. i hate my job. no one gives a shit about anyone but themself. the education system doesnt work. whats wrong with people these days? there are no jobs around here. people have no manners. there are so many cars on the road. i cant get out of debt. housing is so expensive. no one has any morals anymore? when i was a kid......!!!!

seriously, shit or get off the pot. do something about the things you dont like. stop complaining & make a change whether it be for the greater good of others in your community or just for yourself.

it really isnt impossible to live the life you truly want to live. peace is just a few choices & a little action away. contentment is right there at the tip of those fingers that you keep pointing at others, but you have to really want it. you have to want it so bad youre actually willing to get up off your arse & grab hold of it.

if youre not prepared to do that then that explains that incessant sound...all im hearing is yack yack yack...you can blame everyone & everything else for the rest of your days..but if youre not part of the solution youre part of the problem.

empowering waifs to give birth without screaming since 2009

Empowering waifs to give birth without screaming since 2009
aka: Birth Skills by Sarah Murdoch & Juju Sundin

Clearly i dont swing in the right circles, a few weeks ago a heavily pregnant friend of mine mentioned that she had read Birth Skills, Sarah Murdochs new book. Uuuum as in bonds Sarah? You mean no air brushing model Sarah? Save the world Sarah?...She can write?
[Sarah Murdoch nee: O'Hare is the wife of one of Australia wealthiest, most powerful media moguls.]
I have no idea what business Sarah Murdoch has writing a book on birth except she has had 3 kids...so what...so has half the world. Then its explained that the book is actually written by JuJu Sundin an obstetrician...oooh i see now...cha-ching.

"So this book is all about the tools and techniques I teach, and have been teaching over a thirty year period, and all about how the learner experiences those lessons. That’s where Sarah comes in. You will learn from me, and you will experience the class as though you are right next to Sarah on the floor." 

Ripper...always wanted Sarah involved in my pregnancy & birthing process. Don't know how ive managed to now.

Okay okay so im a tad skeptical..perhaps its because before ive even read the book (which i highly doubt i'll ever pick up) Juju Sundins very first paragraph on her website promoting the book leaves me with mixed feelings mainly on the side of highly dubious...my head both nods & shakes as i sense my own discomfort & concern with this snippet of direct & implied ideas women are still given about birthing today.

"So many of you are wanting to learn powerful and effective skills to help you through labour pain. So many of you want a clear, simple, yet informative manual for your partner who may be resistant to long detailed childbirth, parenting and breastfeeding books. It is sometimes difficult for these same partners to extract from these books the vital information and practical ideas to help you on the day. They need to know exactly what their role is during labour and exactly how to help you through your pain – and even if you have chosen a medically assisted birth, your partner still needs to know what to do for you at home, in the car, in the car park, getting you through the hospital entrance, in the lift, and during your initial monitoring. So many of you are in country areas and do not have access to these classes. This book is also for the busy working woman who doesn’t have a lot of time and is saying ‘just tell me what to do and how to do it – I want the short list and I want the detail and it has to make sense’." 

Look im not a conscientious enemy of Sarah Murdoch its more opportunity based (she is now giving me lots of opportunity with this book of hers...of JuJu's), until last week she's barely been a blip on my overtired, milky leaking, jeans & slipper wearing radar.

Im not really sure what my problem is, she has after all..publicly (loudly) refused airbrushing in her modelling photographs, is a patron (saint) for the Breast Cancer Foundation, is the face (arse) of Bonds, is a kindly ambassador of the Murdoch Children's Research Institute & a member of its development board (where she tries really hard to adopt more than the kiss & bandaid theory), has modelled for L'Oréal, Revlon, Ralph Lauren, Yves Saint Laurent and Estée Lauder, as well as frolicked on a few Sports Illustrated tits & togs calendars, adorned the covers of Vogue, Elle, Marie Claire, Glamour, GQ & Harper's Bazaar to name a few, funnily enough she is also the International Ambassador of the Australian Ballet Company & is on the Australian Ballet Board of Directors...even though she was snubbed in her earlier years when she trained to be a ballerina...instead becoming a model (all a little Hitler-esque for my liking)...which brings me to my final point...i will give her credit where its due here...Sarah does host Australias Next Top Models & Binge Eaters whilst she also plays her pretty faced part in the governments National Advisory Group on Body Image.

Yup ok i am irked & maybe when i put the effort into thinking about it i can admit that i feel insulted & angered by her hypocrisy, her lack of reality & her lending her 'good name' to very worthy causes while also condoning & headlining encouragement to vulgar & ravaging businesses & organisations that imobilise, demoralise, victimise & indirectly take the lives of women through out this world.

Thank you Sarah Murdoch i cant wait to have you next to me on the floor as i practice my lamase breathing...your clothes horse, cash cow example & voice speaks nothing more to me than this...its not what you know its who you marry.

disempowering mummies

I get it i get it mister woolworths you dont have to drop the prices any further or build any more or any bigger displays...i concede. I will feed my kid formula & wrap his bum in plastic nappies & wash him & Johnson & Johnsons chemicals & in 15 years he'll be conditioned enough for you to hire, ok.

I recently popped into Woolworths & was flabberghasted at the 2 very large displays right at the front of the store of huggies, nestle formula & Johnson & Johnson no more tears. Oh for fuck sake!!!

This is not a comment directed at mums who are unable to breast feed. But i'll slot this in anyways so theres no misunderstanding.

There is huge a problem in our society when a grocery store is telling us this is what we need...must have for our babies. It seems like you have to be swinging from the hippy vines to find information on a lot of 'different' products, choices & options these days...worst still is that the things that are so natural for mums to do are now seen as 'alternative' or left of centre...what bollocks..co-sleeping, baby wearing (physical contact), breastfeeding, baby led solids, elimination communication (no/ less nappies)...whether we practice them or not these are techniques our species was built on for thousands & thousands of years until recently. Only in the western world has this changed in favour of more 'convenient' products & techniques.
We are being disabled as mummies right in front of our noses & no one says a thing. We are being disconnected from our babies when they need us the most & we dont even realise it. If your baby is crying, its not 'cos hes spoiled & is going to manipulate you, its becasue he has a need that his mummy should meet.
I personally believe that so many mummies feel guilty or inadequate as parents because they are no longer able to meet their babies natural needs & innately this must be known or felt by the parent aswell as the child. I feel corporations & society have taken a lot of our belief in our own ability away from us & have replaced it with their bells & whistles that require frills & pearls...our babies dont need bells & whistles & frills & pearls just get in the way...they need their mummies. They need us to hold them & to reassure them that we are always there, they need us to meet their needs not give them distractions & expensive solutions.

Writing this i realised why i was so pissed by the woolworths displays. As a mother I feel undermined. I do not feel supported by the world that i live in. Every where i go i feel existance telling me i can't.

I despise you Woolies & all you stand for.

i will not consume

Gruen Transfer - The Gruen Transfer is named after Victor Gruen, the man who designed the very first shopping mall. The term describes that split second when the malls intentionally confusing layout makes our eyes glaze and our jaws slacken...the moment when we forget what we came for.

I watch movies like 'Born into Brothels' or 'I know im not alone' the Michael Franti documentary or even 'Turtles can fly' & it brings me closer & closer to something I feel inherently with in me.
I walk into shopping centres (if I have to) & the gruen transfer accosts me. I feel dirty & somewhat stupid. The slow moving faces that waft past me speak in silence...buy.buy.buy.buy.buy.
I hate consuming. I fight internally & externally to remove myself from the 'proper' capitalist manner I am surrounded by. I don't always succeed. Its hard to be part of a world that is designed to spend everything it earns. Its mentally & emotionally debilitating being part of a nation conditioned to always need & told to always want. It is painful to have no acceptable alternative other than one that forces me to lie to myself & ignore my own innate ways


Im not a huge fan of Slum Dog Millionaire, to me, when a white british woman writes a novel about tragic & heartfelt losses she knows nothing of then makes a lashing off of the movie just because the producers spent nearly as much on the advertising as they did the filming, it epitomises the arse-about modern day capitalist mode of operation...having said that, there is a part in that movie where the children are sitting atop a train going...well...nowhere. They dont own a stitch, they do not have a home to go to...they fly through the air unencumbered by needing & wanting, Hurling forward. Free.
I watched this scene & my heart surged to explosion. It had little to do with the emotional pullings of the children at that point.


My heart felt freedom.


The realities of living as a homeless child in an impoverished nation are of course far from freeing & it only speaks as to the desensitised & lavish ways of the western world that some spoiled dirty hippy might call that freedom.


I look around my house, I see the walls that harbour the fixes of a horder. Clearly there were a few days I did not succeed at not consuming.
I look around my house & I see the hours that I slaved away at a demoralising job in order to adorn a house I was indifferent to with things & stuff I didn't need.


I will not consume.