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On the tenth day of detox

Written by Juliet Bennett
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So, all was going well, the swelling on my ankle was very slowly starting to disappear when… OUCH!!! I DID AGAIN… On my first morning walk in two weeks, as I enter Trumper Park, it goes on me. I fall to the ground and hit hard. F**K.

I stand up and hobble toward my apartment. I feel faint. The world is spinning. My vision is closing in. I have to stop. I sit on the curb. Then try again. A few steps later I sit. Finally, somehow, I make it home.

My friend takes me to a physio. It’s not broken, thank God, but I have done some pretty serious ligament damage. I get a nice boot to walk around in for the next few days. At least finally I’m getting it cared for I guess.

I want something to cheer me up. I deserve something to cheer me up. Decafe coffee doesn’t count does it?

‘Mmmm mmmm!’ I say as I take a sip. ‘Decafe is actually really good, after not having any coffee for ten days.’

‘Argh.. hmm…’ my friend says as she sips hers. ‘I’m not sure yours is decafe,’ she says, having ordered a regular. She is right – hers tastes watery. Mine tastes good. But she has added sugar to hers… ‘What do you want, sugar or caffeine?’ she laughs.

‘I’ve already had a few sips… and… I’m really enjoying this,’ I say, feeling like a drug addict getting his first hit in years.

And that was my tenth day of detox.

And I had been going so well…

Day six I woke up again at 620am. What’s with that? Full of energy. I’m not complaining. I get up and started writing. I have cravings for anything. I have temptations, especially when people talk about coffee and when I get a good whiff of it. God it smells good. But no desire to cave in.

I believe the only sugar I’ve really eaten these last ten days is honey, a lot of honey. The only drug that might also have taken in is the pott that sometimes whifts into my room from somewhere in my neighbourhood… particularly effective when breathed in while practicing yoga. Yes, feeling a bit spacey. Strange.

I go to bed around 1am, and wake on the seventh day at 8am, full of energy, excited to start the day. It’s raining. I do 20 minutes of yoga and eat breakfast and get into some writing. I am feeling lighter. Much lighter.

And so on… and so on…

So. I lasted ten days, but it wasn’t my fault. Now I am an invalid in a ski boot. That’s not where I was supposed to be by now.

I haven’t given up altogether. I’m going to keep going besides today’s slip up. When you fall of the horse…

Random Life Stuff,

On the fifth day of detox….

Written by Juliet Bennett
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It is interesting to see you operate with no drugs in your system. No using coffee and chocolate to wake me up and stimulate my mind. No using alcohol to relax and escape.

Following a big night to farewell to the month of binges, the first day of detox I slept in quite late. I did a short 20 minute pilates DVD. I had a decent amount of energy. My ankle was sore and I was resting it. No real cravings.

The second day of detox I had less energy. I did a 40 minute pilates DVD and spend the day at home writing, and the afternoon and evening catching up with friends. I was distracted. I had a steak for dinner. Second day was fairly easy.

The third day was the was the worst. I got stuck in traffic and spent the day working reception for my Dad’s business. I still work for my Dad’s business about one day a week but I haven’t done reception in years. I have a new appreciation for what receptionists do. It’s tiring work answering phones. Seriously tiring. And we had live programs being aired so it there were frantic times. At 1pm the coffee man arrived. Beep beep bebeep beep… beep beep! Oh how I wanted one. Nope. Don’t give in. Green tea. Green tea. I was strong. I got through it.

On the fourth day of detox I woke up at 620am, full of energy. What is this? I wasn’t sure where that came from. I forced myself to get another hour’s sleep and then got up and had a fairly morning. But by afternoon I was exhausted. Coffee. Coffee. Coffee. I was at my Dads for dinner and in the fridge was a block. A half-eaten block of dark Lindt chocolate. My favourite. Sitting there, begging me. Eat me! Eat me! And I knew that one piece wouldn’t do any harm. It would give me energy and fulfil the craving, satisfy the urge. Give me. Give me. But I resisted.

On the fifth day of detox (today) I woke at 747am, and I’m feeling pretty good. I google videoed a good friend in Brazil and ate a little tub of frozen acai pulp (Brazilian berry from the Amazon) which has a little guarana in it (I bought a big box of them yesterday!!) so I’m feeling inspired and getting lots of writing done. (Yes I know there’s caffeine in guarana…)

Today I am not craving coffee. I don’t feel at all like drinking alcohol. And although there are two blocks of Ecuadorian dark chocolate (you can get them in Aldi) in my fridge, I’m not tempted to open them.

What I am noticing most about not having toxins in your system is a calmness, a sense of being in a natural state of mind, which actually feels a little weird. Like the world has slowed down a little bit. And like my thinking processes and my actions are a little slower too. The worst thing is not having that drug-induced excuse. I’m used to having a coffee or a block of chocolate and using it to keep myself up very late night writing. But now it gets to 11pm and I’m tired and I go to sleep. I’m getting a lot of sleep. It’s kind of weird.

Five days down, twenty-three days to go.

Random Life Stuff

No walking, no blogging.

Written by Juliet Bennett
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I walk, ideas come, I write.

I don’t walk, my mind slows, and good blog entries become few and far between.

Just over a week ago I twisted my ankle and ignored it. I think I inherited my Opa’s high pain tolerance. But now it hurts. Not physically, it’s more a mental pain. The ankle is as swollen as ever, and although it’s a frustrating pain, I have to rest.

Walking is my meditation, information-processing, keeping-me-sane time. It is after a long walk I sit down and feel like I write my best. It is on long walks that the best ideas pop into my head. It is on my walks that I make sense of my world, of the conversations, the people, the books, my thoughts. Walking keeps me sane. And fit.

And now it is February. I made it through my last week of “holidays-zone” and now it is time to get serious:

Detox.

Write lots.

Teach Pilates.

Get into shape.

The most annoying thing is that the getting my ankle better doesn’t really fit so well with the writing lots, the teaching pilates or the getting into shape.

Patience, patience, patience. Baby steps. Stay off the ankle now and the rest will fall into place.

I did manage to start the detox. No alcohol, coffee, chocolate or greasy foods. None. At least for the month of February, and I’m hoping to get into good habits that last longer. The last couple of months, or maybe even the last couple of years, have been progressively more destructive in terms of such habits, varying with life’s ups and downs, challenges and celebrations. Now that I’ve signed a one year apartment lease – the longest commitment I’ve made to anything in a while – it’s time for a change. And I’m considering committing to a 3 year PhD so I had better get some good habits under my belt or else I can throw my body goodbye.

Which brings me to the detox…

Today was the third day. I believe the third day is the worst, right??? It was tougher than the first and second combined.

So, if you please, keep your fingers crossed for my ankle and the detox… the quality, or lack of it, of entries on this blog depends on it.

Adventure, Random Life Stuff,

Living too long and popping too many babies

Written by Juliet Bennett
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Today I’m doing a little report for my Dad’s business which is in the Aged Care sector. And I tell you what – I’m learning some VERY interesting (and frightening) facts along the way…

“Around two million Australians are aged 70 years or older. That’s 9 percent of our population. Four per cent of the population are over 80 years of age. The proportion of Australia’s population aged over 70 is expected to rise to 13 per cent by 2021 and to 20 percent (around 5.7 million people) by 2051.” (Australian Bureau of Statistics)

In other words:

In forty years, one-fifth of the Australian population are going to be over 70.

And the ageing population isn’t scary enough for you, put it in this context:

The world population that has gone from 900 MILLION to almost 7 BILLION – in just 200 years!!!

According to the US government census report the current populations of the US and the world are:

U.S. 308,530,840

World 6,797,902,065

According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, on 22 January 2010 at 12:25:31 PM (Canberra time), the resident population of Australia is projected to be:

22,124,384

This projection is based on the estimated resident population at 30 June 2009 and assumes growth since then of:

  • one birth every 1 minute and 45 seconds,
  • one death every 3 minutes and 40 seconds,
  • a net gain of one international migrant every 1 minute and 51 seconds leading to
  • an overall total population increase of one person every 1 minute and 11 seconds.

    By the close of this century we could have reached a whopping 14 billion – well that’s the UN’s “high” estimate… (see graph above.)

    What I really don’t understand about the “medium” and “low” estimates is what they think will cause people to stop having babies.

    Sure in the rich west we are slowing down, discovering the joys of life without children…

    But what sign is there that the third world are going to stop popping out their five or six per woman?

    In a world where (as a by product of being integrated into an unjust system created by the West) their quality of life is getting worse – why would they suddenly give up their source of joy – their desire to have a big family?

    It’s not like they are going to be brought out of poverty any time soon seeing as (very unfortunately) our system is intentionally designed to keep them poor. Don’t believe me? Think that maybe the wealth will trickle down, bring them out of poverty and then they will stop having babies? Then consider the fact that under the current system, reducing poverty to a state where the poorest receive $3 per day, ‘an impossible 15 planets’ worth of biocapacity’ equivalent to our earth would be required. (says Andrew Simms, the policy director of the New Economics Foundation in London in New Scientist article ‘Trickle-Down Myth’ 18 Oct 2008 – p. 49)

    In other words ‘we will have made Earth uninhabitable long before poverty is eradicated.’

    Ok – this has led me far too far into distractionville and procrastinationville. I’m supposed to be doing the report for my Dad on Aged Care but have spend the last two hours thinking and writing about fleas… (see next entry)… Ok, now back to work Juliet – back to work NOW.


Peace,

When you lose your peace narrative….

Written by Juliet Bennett
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Last night during some deep anthropological discussions, the subject of depression came up.

“Depression is the incongruence between creations of your mind and soul, and the creations you are manifesting in the material world.” Lauren explained. “A depressed person feels as if their mind is disconnected from their emotions and from their body. One’s feelings take over their body and although their mind might be wanting one thing, their energy levels prevent them doing it. It’s like the disconnection felt by a person who’s had a stroke… It seems to come down to a loss of hope.”

I know I’ve talked about depression when I was feeling down and lost, but my self-diagnosis may have been a little over the top. I might eat when I’m emotional or annoyed – as a “fuck you” to myself – but I’ve never been unable to get up in the morning and I’ve never lost hope in humanity and life. I guess there are different degrees of everything.

Western societies today have the greatest rates of depression than ever before. Why?

When I woke up this morning after a night of processing all we had discussed, something dawned on me… my last entry was wrong:

NOT ALL of us live by a narrative of peace.

And what happens when we don’t? I guess our minds might travel down a narrative of destruction. A narrative that affirms in our minds that nothing is going to get better. Depression being a possible consequence.

I guess the thing about narratives is that they do change over time – a narrative of destruction can turn into a narrative of peace. How? I’m not really sure. I guess that’s what I’ll look at in my phd if I do it.

One thing I know for sure is that I’m loving narratology already. Simply the idea of interpreting the world and our minds as different narratives seems to provide so much opportunity for understanding. And I haven’t even read a book on it yet!

Truth, ,

The Christmas Pudge… and a Love of Beer

Written by Juliet Bennett
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So I borrowed my mum’s scales to check the Christmas damage. 64 kilos. What the f??? I don’t step on scales so often, judging by measurement more than kilos. But, well, “in the day” I weighed 55kgs. And on average I think I’m around 58-60kgs. I’ve seen myself at 62kgs, and I know I’ve complained about feeling fat on this website before. But 64???

Ok, time to get back into routine: a walk in the morning before breakfast to reconnect my mind and body; a yoga or pilates session a few times a week, teaching it if possible so I can get paid for it rather than pay; and no more beer. At least for a little while. The poggy beer belly has to go. Or chocolate. And no more cheese. Well that’s was my resolution this morning.

I got home today from working a good three and a half hours at the office (being a casual has it’s pluses, and its minuses – depending on how you look at it) and had the choice: beer or pilates. I surprised myself and put on some ultra relaxing yoga music, pulled out the beautiful yoga mat I got for Christmas and did, well, at least I did thirty minutes of it. The stretching felt insanely incredible, as it always does but particularly when it’s been a while. The repetitions of butt exercises killed more than usual, again as it does when it’s been a while.

And then, the gorgeous funky little bar stool I bought today (when there wasn’t enough work to justify my being there) was calling my bottom, singing out: “come on, sit, try me out, do some writing, check your email, write something for your blog…” So here I am, drinking a beer and writing this entry. Hey, my friend left me coronas after NY, along with far too much chocolate and cheese, what am I supposed to do?

But it’s ok, I’m back on the upward spiral. I did half an hour of pilates and literally looking in the mirror I can see the difference: in my fresher-looking skin, brighter-looking eyes, and straightened up poster. “Half-an-hour did that?!” Yep – that’s what proper breathing does – it pumps oxygen through your system. That’s what mind-body connection and good posture does – encourages a central nervous system that works efficiently. My mind felt relaxed, centred, alert. That’s right – now I remember why I like pilates.

I’m not in a huge hurry to loose my Christmas pudge; I might even enjoy it for a (hopefully brief) moment. In good time I’ll be teaching pilates again and seeing as out the window the blue sky seems to have pushed away the clouds, I guess my “it’s raining” excuse is pushed out of existence too. These two little tricks seem to speed the metabolism enough to carry me through my little vices… so metabolic rate you had better bucker up – cause I’m not ready to stop enjoying the beer, or the chocie or the cheese – at least not while they’re lurking in my fridge.

Adventure, Random Life Stuff, , ,

DREAMS FOR A NEW DECADE

Written by Juliet Bennett
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Today is 010110. Another year gone by, we farewell another decade. As a society following a human-made calendar we have reached our century’s teenager years.

Time is ticking on, the completion of a rotation. I count my age, evaluate my place. I think about the future, scenarios I desire, those I hope to avoid. It’s a time to reflect. A time to resolve. A time to dream.

I ask myself where I see myself in ten years? Where will I be come 2020?

Will I be rich? Famous? Am I a writer? An academic? A teacher? A photographer? A student? A mother? A wife? Divorced? Unemployed? Am I satisfied? Am I happy???

Where to I want to be? What do I hope for? What do I dream will come of this decade?

I don’t care about marriage but I would like to be in-love: in a relationship that shares a love that grows stronger every day; a love that asks no questions and requires no promises. A love that is true in every way, one that in every moment we are not together because we have to be, but because every day we choose to be.

Children? They are a big responsibility to bring up properly, but the ultimate expression of creation is one worth it’s pain. To create a new life, to see two lives become three… something I’d like to do once, one day.

I don’t care if I have money. I don’t care about fame. I care about my health. I care fulfilling some kind of purpose, doing whatever it is I’ve been put on this planet to do.

I care about my family and friends, and about the state of our world.

I want to be satisfied with my life. And most of all I want to be happy, with happy people surrounding me.

Come 2020, the most important thing for me is that I am still wearing a smile. How can I best give myself a chance at making this so?

I have big dreams. I have lots of goals. Am I setting myself up for disappointment? What if my dreams are never fulfilled? Won’t I be unsatisfied if I don’t make it?

If happiness is based on meeting expectations, would it not be better to set easy goals, have low expectations so they can easily be met? But if I do this, I won’t get anywhere.

“It is better to shoot for the stars and miss

than aim at the gutter and hit it.”

Decisions gone wrong, opportunities denied, a life of regret. There are many sources of fear, sources of sadness, all of which can be avoided – it all depends on the perspective we take, it depends on the lens through which we see the world. Here’s my theory on the spiritual/quantum mechanical side of dreams, goals, plans, expectations and regret:

I think we should dream, plan and make goals, but hold those plans tentative. Even dreams are transient. Dream and strive for those dreams in the conscious you exist in today and if our consciousness evolves to dream new dreams, strive for those dreams in the same way. Give it our all but don’t try to achieve it in our own might. Let the greater energies behind life guide the way.

I seem to find the most happiness and satisfaction when my dreams are connected with the dreams of the greater good, and my timing connected to nature’s time. It is when I share my dreams with “God” and say to “Him”, “not my will, but Your will” and “in Your time, not mine” – it is then that my dreams seem to come true.

I don’t believe the “power of attraction” means we have the power to bring into our lives ANYTHING and everything we want. I think means we get what we wantif it is also what the universe wants. When analysed in a century’s time I think we would find that what the universe wants in fact what we want too. I don’t actually know much about the power of attraction past documentaries like The Secret, so this is more of a reflective observation of my experience of prayer, dreams and attraction... it seems to me that the power of attraction is not a one-way pull – it is a two-way process. Us attracting something from the universe, and the universe attracting something from us.

So I sit here evaluating my place – my little spec of awareness within an 14 billion-year expansion process,  inside a universe of incomprehensible distance, conscious of a shallow number of layers within a deep ocean of frequencies – I feel like I am one cells inside a body. I and you, and everything we can see, and everything we can’t see, all together comprising the body of the universe.

I’m not sure yet if we are cancerous cells, or if together we create a useful organ, maybe the universe’s heart or brain. What I do know for sure is that the six and a half billion of us, together, are a pretty powerful energy. We have the power to destroy the most creative expressions of the universe that we know exists. But also the power to continue this evolutionary expression in infinite new ways, exploring wider and deeper layers of existence.

I guess from the perspective of this body, of the universe’s totality, my wants, your wants, and the wants of the universe are in fact one and the same.

So how will I live my life in this new decade?

Like an actor in a movie I will play out my role, with a director who values his actor’s input. I understand that from where I am standing I cannot see how my scene fits into the final cut. So I must trust the director’s instruction, for he is the one stringing it together. If in 2020 I find myself with dreams fulfilled or with plans that have failed, if I am in-love or if I am alone, if I am a mother, a widow, rich, poor, famous, healthy, or even if I’m dead – whatever happens I trust will be for the greater good, for the benefit of the me inside The Universe, and for The Universe inside me.

…

A note about this photo, taken last NYE on the Bolivian Salt Lakes. This is the original, turned on it’s side:

DSC_0642colem

A friend who has studied Sacred Geometry saw the landscape and immediately identified Angel Wings in the clouds. I rotated it clockwise to check them out closer and on a whim made it black and white. I guess now it’s a bit like one of those pictures where you interpret it for yourself…

DSC_0642bwem

What do you see?

In closing, I wish you and your friends and family a very HAPPY NEW YEAR, and HAPPY NEW DECADE. May you DREAM, may you HEAR THE UNIVERSE, and may you FIND FULFILMENT BEYOND YOUR EXPECTATIONS.

And thank you for reading my blog – if you keep reading and I’ll keep writing. 🙂

With love,

Juliet xx

Peace, Truth, , ,

De ja vu? Hair

Written by Juliet Bennett
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“What do you think?” She asked me.

“Ah… It’s ok.” I said
id, frowning at my reflection. “I’m not quite sure how you got that,” I looked to the mirror, “from this” observing the photo in my hands. The cut is not so bad. Nor is the colour. But it does NOT in the slightest look like the picture I had diligently printed out in hope of clearly communicating the colour and cut I was after.

I’ll survive. I’ve definitely had worse. After giving me green hair (from a henna mask) a hairdresser (in Japan) turned it purple (very strong toner).

If it doesn’t kill you it makes you stronger. Hair grows fast enough and in a few weeks it will be the length I was after. Maybe I’ll pull out some Sun-In left over from high-school days, and take matters into my own hands – desperate times call for desperate measures. Or maybe I should simply accept that these things happen for a reason and hope this haircut brings with it its own.

Yet the question still persists: why don’t hairdressers listen? This is not the first time it has happened to me, and I don’t think I’m alone in this question. How, when given a picture of a haircut and colour (that is totally compatible with the hair on your head) do a colourist and stylist create their own interpretation and leave you to sport something completely different???

Don’t get me wrong. I love my hairdresser and will surely go back there, probably with the same picture and probably expecting to leave with something completely different again. Why will I go back? Because every hairdresser seems to be the same: you NEVER get what you want. And it’s always a heck lot better than I can do with my own scissors or homemade dyes – been there done that – which always looks better in one’s mind than its manifestation in reality. Urgh. HAIR. Now I remember why I shaved it off.

Adventure, Random Life Stuff,

Things aren’t always what they seem

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Back at bikram yoga yesterday I looked back into the big horrible mirrors and smiled – my tummy looked thin and flat. This was only my third class and I was already getting great results. Then I stepped to the left and the image changed before my eyes. My tummy was round and tubby again. What the…??? I tested a few more locations on the mirror and confirmed it – THE MIRROR WAS WARPED.

Neither the fat version nor the thin version was me. Yet at the same time both were me. Even if neither reflections were completely true, they were both attempts at displaying the truth. I suppose when you consider light and angles, no mirror ever provides an entirely accurate reflection of reality. A still mirrors are a useful instrument – better something than nothing.

Similarly when it comes to way we interpret the world around us. We all tell ourselves a story of some sort in order to explain our existence and purpose. We define ourselves with stories to give us a sense of identity, help us understand who and what we actually are. Do we know any of these answers? Do any of our stories provide us a absolute understanding of reality? I doubt it. But they are still important. I enjoying having a mirror (no matter how accurate) to judge if I’m looking fat or thin and similarly the stories I am surrounded by provide me an understanding of my consciousness – the accuracy is somewhat beside the point.

“Change the way you see things, and the things you see will change.” My yoga teacher said.

I started thinking about our individual perspectives of what we see around us – none are actually a true reflection of reality either. They are interpretations of reality – everything is an interpretation. Everything is relative – only a reflection of the absolute – never providing a complete understanding of the absolute itself.

Same with all our narratives really. We can tell the same story, with the same facts, in completely different lights. It’s our choice what light or angle we are going to put on it.

Just compare the documentary Zeitgeist to what I’m learning about Political Economics. Both are talking about the same thing – what Zeitgeist describes as a shocking system of social slavery Capitalism promotes as “good economics” and an “efficient distribution of resources.” Both are describing the same facts: a system of value-less paper we call money and a few people at the top owning the world, pulling the strings while the people at the bottom work to pay off  mortgages.  Two versions of the same facts. Like my thin and fat reflections, both were reflecting me but neither entirely accurate. Things aren’t always what they seem.

Random Life Stuff, Truth,