in the meantime…

If you want to see what one of the JenYs is up to check out her Near/Far. Dark/Light blog….

I am turning 50 this year and I cannot believe where all the time has gone… but when I look back I see a lot has happened, been experienced, ups, downs and my children have now grown to adults – amazing!  We have come to London for a northern hemisphere Christmas with my daughter and her 3 flatmates and it has been so much fun hearing them talk and natter about their plans, what to wear for New Years eve, who to meet where and what to wear?

On another level we have all been talking about our plans for 2010 – it is going to be a year of new beginnings and plans and directions yet to unfold for all of us – both younger and older girls (and the boys too).  2009 was a year of change for me and rather than have a resolution I decided I needed a mantra for myself  as 2008 was a crap year and I found myself in a rut that I didn’t much care for.  So my mantra became “I do care and I will have no fear”.

So, that meant caring about what happens to me and having no FEAR about trying anything new, stepping out, taking up new challenges etc etc.  Looking back I loved 2009 – it was a great year, I tried lots of new things, met different people, shook myself up a few times and learnt more than I had a for what feels a long time.  It was a great year to end a decade on and made me brave enough to leave my job in December to take up ‘who knows what (or where)’…

So the plans are forming, it is exciting and sort of terrifying all at the same time and I know I am going to attempt to do way more than I can achieve BUT I’d rather be like that than have nothing in play… AND as the mantra thing worked a lot better for me than having a new resolution in 2009 I have decided the mantra for 2010 is going to be “ENERGY” as I am going to need it in all shapes and forms to achieve these plans and goals I have for myself….

Happy New Year everyone and hope your hopes and plans for 2010 come true!

There is something so amazing about being underwater.  You feel so light all noise is blocked out in a way that its almost dangerous and your fantasy of being a mermaid, a pearl diver or even an Olympic swimmer are allowed to come to the surface so to speak.

I have always loved the water.  I started swimming at 5 (even if my Mum might disagree with this).  I remember getting free of those bloody floaties was the best feeling.  Having a pool growing up and living so close to the sea is something I may have taken for granted and only now that I have lived in a concrete jungle for a few years do I realise how lovely and lucky it was.

Some of my most vivid memories are watery.  My Dad TRYING to teach me to surf, almost ‘drowning’ at 4 and having my Mum jump in fully clothed after me, snorkeling in the bath, swimming with our massive (Newfoundland) water rescue dog, teaching my brother to swim, re-enacting a perfume ad with my cousin where they jump off a cliff into the sea and, of course, skinny dipping!

A lot of people attack the sea, I make love to it.
Jacques Yves Cousteau

Film is very important to me.  Looking at some of my favourite scenes in film I notice that a lot of them take place in water (not to get all Jacques Cousteau on you) but they really do stick in my mind.

Jaws – 1 & 2, The Graduate, The Life Aquatic, Rushmore (anything by Wes Anderson), The Blue Lagoon, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Romeo and Juliet, Lost in Translation, The Big Blue, In God’s Hands, The Little Mermaid, Finding Nemo, Closer, Free Willy, The Sea Inside, High Tide, Whale Rider, Big Wednesday, Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea…

The Characters in these Films are either trying to hide, relieve pain, or are truly just fascinated.

To me WATER reminds me of home.

And on that note here is a great clip from Sade - ”No Ordinary Love”

The Shatabdi Express:  female over 45 years quota

The problem for a JenY is that we are surrounded by mediocrity.  The type that rejects anything better/different/outstanding/bold.  The type that (try to) drag us down to their level. The type that never laugh at life and their own humanity and imperfection.  The type that get more bitter but stoic with age.  The type we do not want to be.

Australians are particularly good at it.  Passive aggressive is normal: ‘I don’t understand/like/empathise/have a hope of getting to be as good as… you… therefore I will destroy you.  In very subtle, undermining, passive, ways.  I know no other way. That is my modus operandi.’

It’s very interesting comparing other countries to Australia. We think we are open, matey, friendly, fair, safe  - yet we are, as a tribe, closed, bitchy, elitist, insecure. Maybe about 20 million more immigrants, from all corners of the earth will tip the balance and disrupt our cosy self-image.  Bring it on I say.

Meanwhile, JenY, hold close the ideal of authenticity and strength.  Be bold.  The world is  bigger than Australia, and we are leaders in that world.  Go forth and be heroes.

This past year has seen me lurch from nightmare to bliss at work. From a nasty experience of surreptitious bullying by a smart suspected serial workplace psychopath at a bank (which bank – no not that one – but aren’t they all the same ?), three major orthopaedic operations including a shoulder replacement, weeks and months on hillbilly heroin (legal ! painkillers ! necessary but very weird !) and a big fat retrenchment … accompanied by a major confidence dip… to landing what may be the job of my dreams in the arts sector.  How did it happen ?  Not just luck my dears but good management, resilience (yes, it’s not just a buzz word from HR – it means endless scars and rebounds), and a lot of faith from friends and a few enlightened risk taking women executives.

It’s a redemption story that, in a nutshell, says: keep going, you may just get there in the end if you keep trying. Go girls !

A little something from photographer Bruce Weber….

Not 1…

Not 2…

BUT…

…3 job offers!!!

Congratulations JenY….

(this pic of Betty Ford dancing on the White House cabinet table sums it up!)

I walked out feeling a bit dazed and depressed (quick get me those antidepressants).  Eek! The dreaded menopause is on its way and its coming to get me!  It reminded a bit of how I felt when I attended baby delivery classes before my first child was born.  I found them horrific and I spent a lot of time closing my eyes and putting my hands over my ears when I didn’t want to hear the horror stories that could happen to me during labor… Don’t get me wrong – I know lots of people like to be well prepared but a little knowledge goes a long with me and I prefer to deal with stuff as it happens…

I asked a couple of friends (at a similar ‘stage of life’) if they had experienced anything or wanted to discuss IT… I noticed a similar quelle horreur reaction to that dreaded “M” word – nobody wants to talk about it and there is a general (overwhelming) feeling that there is no good news…fantastic can’t wait to see what happens next…

It got me thinking that there have actually been a lot of ‘M’ words that I and my distaff group of friends have come across over time – here are but a few:

• menstruation – who could forget the horror of those mother/daughter classes in the 70s whilst an overbearing nurse explained how we were all going to become women….
• men – OK boys really – those creatures from the opposite sex who suddenly became appealing at some stage in my early teens – still trying to work them out AND have you seen how many of these words start with ‘men’
• marriage – or commitment or life partner – I fondly remember a friend (who had been in an up/down relationship) telling me in the ladies loo that she was getting,  you know, m..m..mm… mmm – she never could say the word but glad to say they did and are still together…
• maternity – ‘so, when are you having a baby…?’ well that’s one thing I wont have to worry about now!
• mum - that’s what you are called after the baby arrives!
• money – the root of all evil – yes please!
• mortgage – something to do with marriage/commitment and needing money for a place to live…
• middle age - nothing to say here – in the words of Bob Dylan “…forever young…”

I am sure there a few more out there I haven’t remembered – wonder how JenY is going on the Shatabdi Express – maybe that’s where we can all go hangout if the dreaded ‘M’ word becomes to much…

If we only had this on Melbourne trams, we could claim a seat from sturdy 25 year old boys with flat shoes while we wearily weave our way home on our try-too-hard high heels lugging our laptops for the second shift after dinner (sorry – did you whisper ‘work-life balance’ – what was that ?).  We could claim our sex and seniority with pride.  I’m looking forward to travelling alone in India in my newfound class. It’s going to be very very different to the first time.  I first travelled through India as a penny-less 17 year old with trailing blonde hair, very little underwear (or shoes), and a wardrobe of floating granny frocks and sarongs.  And wondered why all the ‘eve-teasing’ (the lovely Indian euphemism for ‘groping and leering’).  Naive ?  Should not have been let out of the nursery without my nanny !   But we take risks, we survive, we learn.  And now I have a class of my very own. I feel special. More news from Mysore soon.