in a field...

we dreamed of a wrap-around verandah
more children
a dinner bell
tea and cake
piles of books
incense burning
a hammock
a home to build, add to, settle in and love.
One day.
ps. it's for sale (the field)

ché's room

a while ago I decided to ditch the newborn neutral colour palette and design a new play space for Ché. He still spends the majority of the night snuggled between us so it's not necessarily his 'sleep' space. it will be one day though.

i gave the vintage bookshelf a new coat of red and carefully arranged his beloved toys and books on it. it stays in order for about 10minutes of the day but before bed each night we put everything back in its place. it makes me so happy to see him sitting on the carpet flicking through books, muttering to himself. so happy that our deep love of words has without doubt been passed on to him.

I wanted a colourful space without it becoming too lurid and so I tried my best to use natural shades, earthy shades. I sourced the gorgeous elephant fabrics from goodness and the bunting from ella at little red caboose. The prints are from ashley g and sandra juto - yes, every boy definitely deserves to be superhero sometimes.

It's taken months to come together and me oh my what fun it was. To go a little crazy with colour and quirk. It's fun and dreamy and i love that at times all three of us are in there reading, relaxing and playing together.

When I look at his room I feel quite proud of my decision to be conscious of the toys that come into our home. I made it clear to family from the start that we didn't want flashing, buzzing, battery-operated, plastic toys for Ché. Instead his play world is full of handmade, mama-made, wooden and musical toys - toys created with love and passion for a child that doesn't need a lot. He's so happy with what he's got and so am I. So lucky we are.

So thank you to those mamas and artists who helped contribute to this little space in our house. Thanks also to Jimin and Emma for dressing Ché so well!

asteya

The focus for my pre-natal classes at the moment is asteya or letting go of greed. Being in the here, the now, not wishing or grasping for the journey to end. Enjoying the present moment...just being. I'm re-reading Buddhism for Mothers at the moment and it is so much more relevant now that Che is a little more grown. I'm nodding my head to almost every sentence and finding comfort in the suggestions for thought and practice. Especially mindfulness.

I especially like the suggestion to tell yourself what your doing throughout your day. The affirmation really has the power to almost throw you into the present. Yesterday I began talking to myself. In the best possible way. At the close of the day I felt nourished. And nurtured.

I taught a yoga class, cooked a chicken casserole, swept the balcony, tended to my herbs, read with Ché, made the beds...and spent two hours in a day spa. It surprised me that even as I was being wrapped in amazonian nut mud I still had to tell myself to relax. "I am relaxing."

It's quite liberating to be in the moment, constantly expanding your awareness of where you are and what you're doing. To actually be mothering instead of chasing time, children and chores.

I am writing

mother's day

the best part;


snuggled. softness. sweetness. sigh.

i don't know where i'd be if i had never found yoga

I truly don't know where I'd be. Along with my mum's encouragement and my deep desire to finally finally finally do something for the goodness of my body I attended my first yoga class at 10am on a Monday morning, a few weeks before my 21st birthday.

I was in the throes of ending a long and destructive relationship. A relationship that was wrong for so many reasons. It was difficult to escape from and when I did I was physically and emotionally exhausted.

I remember walking, waif-like, across the studio floor. I was 46kg but I felt heavy. Music, something like this, was playing softly and nag champa was filling the air. I sat down, cross-legged, and waited for the class to begin.

The teacher, Mardi, sat in front of the class and led us through a short relaxation. She asked us to breathe. Through our nose and into our belly. I felt tears prick my eyes because within a few minutes I realised that I hadn't felt the breath in my body for so long. It felt like I hadn't breathed in three years. I hadn't been in my body.

I continued to attend that Monday morning class. And then one class a week wasn't enough. I started going twice, three times, sometimes four times a week. I began to notice contentment within myself. Happiness. And strength. Physically and mentally. I felt light. I was experiencing a change within me. And subsequently, a change around me. I became aware of my body and my self. How truly wonderful it is to breathe deep and move your body, flowing, through a series of energising postures. I was flowing.

I cancelled a trip to London and enrolled in yoga teacher training instead. I stayed at an ashram for two weeks and lived yoga. Rising with the sun to awaken my body with gentle yoga practices and breathing techniques. Eating vegetarian wholefood and finding beauty in simplicity - like an om symbol etched into the ground.

I felt new. Refreshed. Revived. All those wonderful things.

I am always so grateful to my Mum for guiding me in the direction of the studio at that time. Mardi, my first yoga teacher at that Monday morning yoga class is now my mother-in-law. If I hadn't have found yoga, and discovered awareness and contentment and goodness within me, I wonder if I would have found Daniel. On the eve of Mother's Day I am ever so thankful for the synchronicity that led me to the studio that day and for the ongoing journey I am on. Because yoga changed me. And now I am a Mother. To a baby yogi who holds his hands in prayer at hridaya mudra, his heart space, and says namaste the spirit within me honours and respects the spirit within you.

Happy Mother's Day.
Your Mother is your first teacher.
Always.
Perhaps your Mother is your first
Guru

Inspired by Yoga and Me

for the love of

When did your obsession begin?

At the moment we have to turn our head when a bus, truck, tractor and, most definitely, a fire engine passes us by. He loves the zoom zoom, clunk, clunk, clickety-clack sound of engines. The high-pitched repetition of the siren. He's so passionate about diggers and lorries and semi-trailers. So young and yet so enthralled.

It got me thinking about whether this will stay with him. This love.

He's walking and talking now and I think I may be (quietly) wondering where my little bubba went to. And where this little person came from. In the same moment I adore the way he trudges along beside me, down the footpath, stopping to pick up a rock, a leaf, an old shopping receipt. If I crouch down to his level our world is so much bigger.

"there it is"
"what's this"
"mwah mwah"
"ta-ta"
(written here so I never forget).

leaves under foot

when he grows up i'll tell him that he learned to walk in autumn.
and that is why he loves the sound of leaves crunching under foot.