tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62948062024-02-28T23:18:01.063+11:00love freelyMy journey to a life of love and freedom.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.comBlogger163125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1138870219899540912006-02-02T19:25:00.000+11:002006-02-08T19:51:29.726+11:00The time and placeFrom <a href="http://lazyotter.blogspot.com/">Dmitri Bilgere's</a> excellent and in may ways brave book <a href="http://www.dbweb.org/btbg.html">Beyond the Blame Game: Creating Compassion and Ending the Sex War in Your Life</a>:<br /><blockquote>Women demand that men share their feelings, and men, ashamed, have no idea how. This sometimes makes women so angry that they try to make men share their feelings by applying shame. Rock singer Madonna advises women to "make him express what he feels, and then you'll know your love is real," as if he were holding back his feelings simply to be irritating.</blockquote><br />And, even better:<br /><blockquote>When a woman says to a man, "Tell me your feelings," she probably hopes to hear a tender "I love you," not a fierce "I'm really, really angry!" or a whining "I'm felling really ashamed." Often, anger and humiliation are all a man has to share.</blockquote><br />And that is fundamentally why men need to go to <a href="http://www.mkpau.org">safe spaces with other men</a> to do their healing. The time and place for a man to fight his battles, whatever those battles may be, is not in the home or with his family. The time and place is with other men - men who know how to hold the space for another man's battle. In that place a man may bring his anger and humiliation for transformation, so that he might return home the man he has always dreamed to be, the one that is capable of the deep love that his partner and family so hope to hear and feel.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1127799105728749622005-09-27T15:24:00.000+10:002005-09-28T12:36:37.586+10:00MentoringOne of the many stages in the journey to become a certified leader in the Mankind Project is to get an existing leader to mentor you. Over the years I've had many leaders suggest to me that I move onto the leader track, and implicitly they've all been options as mentors for me.<br /><br />In making the difficult choice of whom to approach, I considered many criteria - who did I most get on with, whom did I admire the most, who's style did I like etc. etc. Finally, I went with my gut, and my gut chose the one I was most scared of - let's call him M. Funny that.<br /><br />I called him up, and after some very probing questions M agreed to mentor me. I asked him what his terms were, and M said he only had two rules:<br /><ol> <li>Don't waste my fucking time</li> <li>Don't waste your fucking time<br /> </li> </ol> ... and then I knew my gut had chosen well.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1127718985364749912005-09-26T17:07:00.000+10:002005-09-26T17:16:25.366+10:00UpdateA <a href="http://mankindproject.blogspot.com/">friend of mine</a> reminded me about my blog last week, commenting that I was smoking whilst the counter of nicotine free days was ticking away obliviously on these virtual pages.<br /><br />I'm OK with me smoking - for now - so I've done away with the timer. However, I'm still on my journey and right now I could do with the clarifying process that is writing a blog for me. The subtitle has changed too.<br /><br />So what am I here to blog about now?<br /><br />Well I'll see what enfolds (if anything), and I have a hint that I'll be talking about my journey to become a certified leader within the Mankind Project that is just beginning.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1118708443286836232005-06-14T10:18:00.000+10:002005-06-14T10:21:11.356+10:00Sikh CoalitionAn excellent downloadable short movie on the persecution of Sikhs in America, simply because they wear turbans and are confused with Muslims.<br /><br />And it's not just racial attacks by crazies - it's also institutional racist discrimination by the police and rail transport companies on their own American-born employees.<br /><br />Unusually, the movie doesn't just pose questions, it also suggests solutions. The end of the movie is one of the most moving scenes of reconciliation I have seen.<br /><br />Go see it: <a href="http://www.turbanhead.com/mt/archives/002475.html#002475">Sikh Coalition (via Turbanhead.com)</a>Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1111922569814011592005-03-27T21:07:00.000+10:002005-03-27T21:22:49.816+10:00Easter - A season of renewalI'm really enjoying having this blog to look back on, and see where I was <a href="http://lovefreely.blogspot.com/2004/04/easter-2004-on-noosa-north-shore.html">a year ago</a>.<br /><br />Life has been good to me this last year:<br /><br />My job in Sydney is working out better than I'd even hoped for. I think I have found the perfect place for me to work in, and I intend to stay there as long as I can.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mkp.org/">MKP Sydney</a> goes from strength to strength. The last Integration Group I facilitated has become a group of strongly committed men who support and challenge each other in great ways. Our fourth New Warrior Training Adventure is planned for May.<br /><br />I smoke occassionally. I stop regularly. I'm finding a balance, though it is still a struggle, and I am under no illusion that I'm playing with fire. For now I am accepting the struggle and seeing where it takes me.<br /><br />RCG and my relationship has not only survived the year of commuting back and forth, it's grown from strength to strength. She's going to move down to join me in July, and we're going to begin building our futures together. Next weekend we're attending a couples' relationship workshop, and I feel excited about that.<br /><br />My inner world feels serene and peaceful. I am blessed that in my daily life, the universe is giving me less painful lessons. I am blessed that I'm still learning. I am blessing myself.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1103600804516487772004-12-21T14:37:00.000+11:002004-12-21T14:46:44.516+11:00Yes, Now!<span class="contentbodytextnormalbigger"><span class="contentbodytextnormalbigger">From "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/188392930X/qid=1103600530/sr=2-1/ref=pd_ka_b_2_1/102-6699299-0493716">Living Enlightenment</a>" by Andrew Cohen:
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<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;"> ...Why do I still feel so strongly that I need more time, that I'm not ready to let go yet?</span>
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<br />Because the ego <span style="font-style: italic;">always</span> needs more time. The perennial refrain of the ego in the face of the call from the Absolute is, "I'm not ready yet, I need more time." And it always sounds so reasonable- from a relative perspective. But from an absolute perspective <span style="font-style: italic;">there is no time</span>. And the call of the spirit, the call of the True Self - the command to evolve to a higher state of consciousness - comes from that absolute dimension where time does not exist. Once again, the Absolute never hears the ego's pleas. Its ceaseless refrain is: "Every moment that you hesitate, you're keeping yourself from me." Its constant demand is always, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Now</span>!" and the ego insists, yet again, "no, I'm not ready." This is the spiritual drama that has played itself out between man and God for thousands of years - between the individual sense of self and the call of the Absolute. The whole point of spiritual life is to surrender unconditionally to that call, and that means the end of time - the end of <span style="font-style: italic;">your</span> time. This is what the spiritual drama is all about - the dynamic tension between the ego's endless excuses and the call for unconditional submission from the Absolute.</blockquote></span></span>Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1102574448725306272004-12-09T17:40:00.000+11:002004-12-09T17:40:48.726+11:00Shadow<style>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000;}.flickr-yourcomment {}.flickr-frame { float: left; width: 150px; text-align: center; padding: 3px; margin-right: 10px;/* a suggestion - Flickr pink! *//* background-color: #FFE8F4; *//* border: 1px solid #FDD8EB; */}.flickr-caption { font: 75%; color: #666666; margin-top: 0px;}.flickr-buddyicon { margin-right:5px; vertical-align:middle; border: solid 1px;}.flickr-postedby { font: 75%;}</style><p class="flickr-yourcomment"> <div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kitten/2040556/"><img src="http://photos2.flickr.com/2040556_c0bc78f154_t.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="Haunted"></a><br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/kitten/2040556/">Haunted</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/kitten/">Kitten</a>.</span> </div> A pic I might use in the near future for the new MKP Mens group I'm facilitating.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />.</p>Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1102051861085701692004-12-03T16:27:00.000+11:002004-12-03T16:31:01.086+11:00We like how you look, but we don't want you here.The irony in <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Disabled-poster-boy-in-visa-rows/2004/12/02/1101923266869.html?oneclick=true">this story</a> is terrible. I'm praying that the Australian government, after it's wiped the egg from it's face, might just show some sense and give the family the visa they deserve. I know the family involved, and I'm angry about the injustice of this case.
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<br />Pass it on.
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<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1102027750737731332004-12-03T09:34:00.001+11:002004-12-03T10:14:51.786+11:00Follow that busLast Friday I was heading towards Brisbane for an <a href="http://www.mkp.org/">MKP training</a> over the weekend, and then a work conference for four days. I'd packed nearly all my fit-to-be-seen-in clothes into a suitcase.
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<br />I left my suitcase on the bus to work.
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<br />I ran down the street after the bus, and lost it at the traffic lights. I jumped into a taxi, who refused to follow that bus, until I promised him $20 for the pursuit. I got to Circular Quay, and the bus was nowhere to be found. I phoned up the depot, and they contacted the bus, but the driver reported no massive suitcase sitting in the luggage compartment. As I sat there on the pavement, with no idea what to do, berating myself for the mistake I'd made, frustrated at yet another spawn of chaos I'd generated in my life, despairing that I don't have the money to buy more clothes, I convinced myself my life had fallen apart.
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<br />Luckily, I have friends I can call; friends who know how to remind me to breath.
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<br />My suitcase was found, and all turned out well, except that somewhere in the midst of recovering my sanity I'd bought a packet of cigarettes.
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<br />RCG put up admirably with my smoking: "I don't like you smoking, but I still love you."
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<br />I stopped again on Wednesday.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1101173895182998292004-11-23T13:38:00.000+11:002004-11-23T12:42:18.690+11:00Earth-Sea-Sky<style>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000;}.flickr-yourcomment {}.flickr-frame { float: left; width: 150px; text-align: center; padding: 3px; margin-right: 10px;/* a suggestion - Flickr pink! *//* background-color: #FFE8F4; *//* border: 1px solid #FDD8EB; */}.flickr-caption { font: 75%; color: #666666; margin-top: 0px;}.flickr-buddyicon { margin-right:5px; vertical-align:middle; border: solid 1px;}.flickr-postedby { font: 75%;}</style><p class="flickr-yourcomment"> </p><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/k-girl/1629283/"><img src="http://www.flickr.com/photos/1629283_661efa5432_t.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="earth-sea-sky" /></a>
<br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/k-girl/1629283/">earth-sea-sky</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/k-girl/">k-girl</a>.</span> </div> A different and excellent view of this ocean city.
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<br />Or is <a href="http://www.fuckthesouth.com/">something stronger required</a> (language warning)?
<br />So what <a href="http://www-personal.umich.edu/%7Emejn/election/">really happened</a> (geek warning)?
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<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1099534249948622912004-11-04T13:08:00.000+11:002004-11-04T13:10:49.950+11:00How to live without fear in America<a href="http://spamusement.com/view.php?id=121">How to live without fear in America</a>
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<br />Bush wins
<br />Lost my wallet
<br />Clients playing up at work
<br />Generally miserable
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<br />I'm struggling today.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1098406600104454202004-10-22T10:32:00.000+10:002004-11-04T13:12:04.826+11:00What is the most valuable advice your father gave you?I was asked this question today by a <a href="http://www.mkp.org/">Warrior</a>. My response:
<br /><blockquote>In January this year, my father and I were talking about a financial investment I was considering, and he said:
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<br />"It's risky, and you may lose everything, but it's just money. Even if you lose the money, you will have gained something. You have to take the risk."
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<br />I had been waiting all my life to hear those words.</blockquote>When we lived in Africa, my father was the consumate businessman. He did well, though it was stressful for him, and he often came home without much energy left for us. However, when my family moved to Australia, exchange rates and financial constraints meant that he didn't have very much left to show for the first part of his life. This, together with observing the constant stress of holding a business together that my father went through, had made me very risk averse. Which is probably why I had chose the professional and very stable employee-only career I chose.
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<br />Hidden under this was the fear of failure, and under that a lack of basic trust in myself and my ability look after my self. By rejecting my father's gift of business making and risk taking, I'd been rejecting the self belief, or simply trusting the universe, that risk taking requires.
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<br />So when my father spoke, and I actually listened, it finally hit home.
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<br />But there's more to this story.
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<br />When my father moved to Australia, he didn't have the funds to start up his own business again. He has spent the last fifteen years being an employee, and I have watched him slowly shrivel up under that servitude and lose his self belief. His back is not as straight as it once was.
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<br />Today, my father is buying his own business. He's terrified, and speaks to me honestly about his fears, and yet he's doing it. There's a passion in his eyes again. And I don't care about the risk of his new business failing. It's not about the money he might lose, it's about the self worth he will gain.
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<br />As for me, well, my first investment looks like it's gone sour, and the nice return I expected to have today hasn't materialised. Not all is lost, I may get the return next year instead. In the mean time, I've lost my fear. I'm starting to do more research to find an investment property. I'm making financial plans with my new partner. I'm somehow finding that path between the secure employee and that adventurous business man.
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<br />Thank you Dad.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1097654017225340712004-10-13T17:53:00.000+10:002004-10-22T10:58:02.466+10:00The best city in the world<style>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000;}.flickr-yourcomment {}.flickr-frame { float: left; width: 150px; text-align: center; padding: 3px; margin-right: 10px;/* a suggestion - Flickr pink! *//* background-color: #FFE8F4; *//* border: 1px solid #FDD8EB; */}.flickr-caption { font: 75%; color: #666666; margin-top: 0px;}.flickr-buddyicon { margin-right:5px; vertical-align:middle; border: solid 1px;}.flickr-postedby { font: 75%;}</style><p class="flickr-yourcomment"> </p><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ilumb/815457/"><img src="http://www.flickr.com/photos/815457_1f3da4d512_t.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="New Year Fireworks 2002" /></a>
<br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ilumb/815457/">New Year Fireworks 2002</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/ilumb/">IanL</a>.</span> </div> Another fantastic photo
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<br />Now, 38 days later with no cigarettes smoked in the interim, I'm back to being secure with my quit. The temptation is to think I can do the "casual" smoke. The reality is that those few cigarettes took me straight back to day one, and hell week is STILL not a fun place.
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<br />I'm tempted to write it off as a "slip" and switch my "not smoked since" timer back to the begining of March. However, the mantra of truth and fact above slippy thought means it sticks to where it is.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1095833095353547172004-09-22T16:01:00.000+10:002004-09-22T16:32:58.433+10:00IllI've spent the last week in bed blowing my nose for Iceland. I don't recall ever being this ill from the 'flu before. The first night was an intense, delirous and sweaty time-loop.
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<br />I feel like the goodness has been sapped from me, but I'm back, at work, and alive.
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<br />I was very sad most of the weekend. Even more tired & emotional than could be explained by the illness and the isolation of living on my own. My sister sent me a text message on Sunday night saying she'd been thinking about me all weekend. I called, and it turns out that she had remembered that this was the weekend I'd got married on <a href="http://lovefreely.blogspot.com/1999/09/well-im-back-from-my-marriage-on-18th.html">five years ago</a>.
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<br />That would explain the unexplained sadness then.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1094602358033988822004-09-08T10:12:00.000+10:002004-09-22T16:08:22.830+10:00Storm<style>.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000;}.flickr-yourcomment {}.flickr-frame { float: left; width: 150px; text-align: center; padding: 3px; margin-right: 10px;/* a suggestion - Flickr pink! *//* background-color: #FFE8F4; *//* border: 1px solid #FDD8EB; */}.flickr-caption { font: 75%; color: #666666; margin-top: 0px;}.flickr-buddyicon { margin-right:5px; vertical-align:middle; border: solid 1px;}.flickr-postedby { font: 75%;}</style><p class="flickr-yourcomment"> </p><div class="flickr-frame"> <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo.gne?id=365761"><img src="http://www.flickr.com/photos/365761_t.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="Storm - Sep. 5, 2004" /></a>
<br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo.gne?id=365761">Storm - Sep. 5, 2004</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/hartley/">hartley</a>.</span> </div> Another fantastic photo of the weekend storm.
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<br /> <span class="flickr-caption"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photo.gne?id=348680">Sydney after the hailstorm</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/incitatus/">incitatus</a>.</span> </div> N & S are two friends of mine from London who have also just moved to Sydney. I worked with N when I started my career, and as she's now working round the corner from me, we regularly meet up for lunch. I didn't know her partner S too well in London, but we're getting on very well now.
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<br />Sunday we went for a walk around Watsons Bay, which is where Port Jackson meets the ocean. Standing on the South Head, and looking at the city in the distance, I turned to N and said: "This really is the best city in the world." She nodded silently.
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<br />N & S gave me a lift to Darling Harbour to meet my friend <a href="http://lovefreely.blogspot.com/2004/03/hell-4-hours.html"> R</a> who is back in Sydney for the rest of his visa. Just at that moment a massive hailstorm broke over the city. Nice to have real weather again.<p></p>Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1093940420739500452004-08-31T18:18:00.000+10:002004-08-31T18:20:20.740+10:00K rememberedFound an old speech I had written for my best friend's memorial service and posted it <a href="http://lovefreely.blogspot.com/2001/10/k.html">here</a>.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1093574460115700122004-08-27T12:36:00.000+10:002004-08-27T12:41:00.116+10:00ReturnObservations:
<br /><ol> <li>I'm back</li> <li>Blog has been redecorated</li> <li>I smoked again</li> </ol> Details will follow.
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<br />For now, a logistic: All the old comments have been lost. I preferred sticking with Blogger rather than carry on with Haloscan. A tough and difficult choice. I look forward to new comments.
<br />Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1085019848288874142004-05-20T12:11:00.000+10:002004-05-20T12:24:08.286+10:00Farewell for nowI'm sitting at home waiting for the removal men to come take my shiny new furniture and clothes and assorted stuff to my new place in Sydney. It's possibly the first time I've had to relax for a few moments this month, between: holidaying and squeezing as much time with RCG as possible; finding a new home in Sydney (a week of trudging the streets); buying all the furniture and appliances for my new home; arranging for everything to be shipped down; packing; and spending time with Mum and Dad and my friends.
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<br />I am excited about my move to Sydney. RCG is going to join me there in January. The job and the people are fantastic. Sydney is buzzing and exciting and I've already reconnected with friends out there. Whilst I will miss my parents, it feels good to be CHOOSING to move away rather than having it foist upon me.
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<br />And I'm still not smoking. I genuinely believe I have broken through nicotine at last.
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<br />Life is good.
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<br />So this seems like a good point to put this blog to rest for a while. I could pretend that I will endeavour to keep posting, but the truth is I'm not going to do that. So better to declare it's over for now. Perhaps a month, perhaps a year, perhaps never again, I'll return to write more. If you'd like to be informed when that happens, post a comment to this and I'll email you if I return.
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<br />May all your dreams come true. May love and freedom be yours.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1083672232276831052004-04-30T21:54:00.000+10:002004-08-27T14:35:56.826+10:00The EndToday was my last day at this job. I'm so glad it's over.
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<br />I'm in Byron Bay over the weekend with RCG and her friends.
<br />It's RCG's Birthday on Tuesday, and I have a special day planned for her.
<br />Wednesday I fly to Sydney to sort out a place to stay, and then I'm back in Brisbane for the rest of the month before moving permanently to Sydney.
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<br />So I won't get much chance to post to this blog. I will update when I can.
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<br />And I'm still Smoke Free.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1083118688705284272004-04-28T12:11:00.000+10:002004-04-28T12:22:23.653+10:0050 Day Ramble on The QuitnetThere are many people who stopped smoking in one hit. They chose the date, and they have not smoked since. This isn't to say it was easy for them - they struggled through all the cravings, the self-doubt, the temptations, the suffering, just like everyone else. It's just that they did it in one go.
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<br />Then there are others, like me who find that it took us more than one attempt. I have relapsed five times since I began my quit in earnest at the end of last year. That isn't even counting the multiple number of times I have attempted to quit over the 15 years that I smoked before that.
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<br />For me, it just wasn't the one go that did it.
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<br />So reading what I've written, you might hear the nicotine whispering in your ear: "Well, what's another slip? Maybe this time isn't quite right? It's just one cigarette. You've quit before, you can quit again."
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<br />Don't fall for it.
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<br />Do listen to the voice in you that says to keep going, and each time to give your utmost. Listen to the voice that completely ignores the past and says, "This time, I CAN and I WILL do it."
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<br />In the fifty days since I stopped smoking, my life has improved immeasurably. As well as the well-known health benefits, I have:
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<br />1) Met and fallen deeply in love with a beautiful, smart and sexy woman, who loves me too.
<br />2) Quit a job that was driving me slowly under, and found a great new job.
<br />3) Gone to the gym regularly, and now boast a stronger, fitter, and sexier body.
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<br />I don't think these things are unrelated. Stopping smoking has given me that self-confidence that isn't bravado. It's the self-confidence that comes from moment to moment practice of discipline and love. It comes from struggling through despite the odds.
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<br />And it's not so surprising that with that self-belief, I have found love, got a new job, and have looked after my body.
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<br />Thank you all for your support.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1083138033505516762004-04-27T16:47:00.000+10:002004-05-08T16:51:56.640+10:00DreamsLast night, RCG heard me moaning in my sleep, and as she moved to check I was OK, I turned a left hook and hit her in the chest. I was a lot more distraught after that than she was.
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<br /><strong>The Dream</strong>
<br />I am part of a reconnaissance group scouting out an enemy camp behind a hill, protected by a raised low wall patrolled by guards. On this side of the hill is a car - a mini with tinted windows - which is some sort of guard post as it has no wheels. I am at the back where I can see the others trying to sneak past the guards on the wall and in the car in order to look into the camp site. However, I can see that they have got their timing wrong and the enemy guards are about to spot them. I can't call out as this will alert the guards.
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<br />Suddenly, the guards turn and spot them and raise the alarm. The scouting party begins running down the hill to get away, when the doors of the mini fling open and out runs a large guard dog and another guard. I run straight towards the dog so that the others have a chance to flee, and I begin fighting with the dog. The dog turns into a strange cat-like woman dressed in black leather who begins to attack me with stones. As we grapple she breaks the stones like flint and then tries to cut me with the shards. I grab some of them and attack her back, succeeding in slashing her face twice. She has strange mottled skin, rather like very large freckles, and I can see the blood spray out. She opens her mouth wide to bite me, and I jam another shard of rock into her mouth. Then I start to smack her with my fist... except I've woken up and it's RCG I hit.
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<br /><Strong>The Interpretation</strong>
<br />To come shortly...Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6294806.post-1082968734502514882004-04-26T17:55:00.000+10:002004-04-26T18:43:06.793+10:00Day 50 - Helter Skelter WeekendMy time in Brisbane is running out, and I'm trying to squeeze in time with my friends, dancing friends, RCG and my family, and I'm also working desperately hard to try and finish the project with my current employer. It's not going well, and my boss is looking for heads to roll. I'm in a tough place and I have no idea how I'm going to get through it with a win for anyone, let alone a win for me. Very stressful, and I have four more days to go before I leave.
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<br />I finally had a break over the bank holiday weekend.
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<br /><strong>Friday - Dancing</strong>
<br />Out for dinner at South Bank with dancing friends as a goodbye. Afterwards spent time at the street festival, dancing to a salsa band and a DJ. Great fun.
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<br /><strong>Saturday - Birthday Party</strong>
<br />My best friend's wife's birthday party in Noosa over the weekend - an excellent night, except for him accidentally spilling a glass of red wine on RCG's white skirt. She handled that beautifully, no major drama, a quick change of clothes and back to the party. I was very pleased that I managed to completely avoid smoking, despite being very drunk in a cocktail bar with ample smokers around me.
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<br />RCG and I signed up for a cruise over New Year with my friends, one of whom is getting married on one of the islands we visit. The large sum of money, together with the plan so far into the future, made our signatures on the booking form seem like so much more. Scary and yet also comforting.
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<br /><strong>Sunday - Eternal Sunshine</strong>
<br />An intense day with RCG, culminating in a difficult conversation where I managed to say the wrong thing on many an occasion. Intense jealousy again for me when she mentioned that she was going out for lunch with her ex-boyfriend. I am stuck in the place where my insecure and needy part can't see why she's friends with him; my rational mind knowing that I too have had lunch with ex's and that there is no reason why she can't; and my heart that truly loves and trusts her. Tending to my needy part, that wants to control her, is hard work. She too spoke about her insecurities regarding my parents and their "Indian Bride" project. In the end we tired of the talking and went to see <em>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</em>. That gave us some relief.
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<br /><strong>Monday - All Four Turns</strong>
<br />In the morning we spoke again about our fears, and recognised how intense the last few days had been. Being so deep in love has made me acutely sensitive to all my emotions, and has also increased their strength. In the course of an hour with her I went from fear, to anger, to sadness, and then ecstatic joy. She reported a similar roller coaster, and after a late breakfast, it finally felt like we had returned back on the ground.
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<br />I took mum out to lunch, to make up for the time I haven't spent with her, and instead have been with RCG. Despite my best intentions, I ended up drifting into thinking about RCG. In the end I texted her: "Each time we are together my love for you deepens. Each time we part, it hurts even more." She called me back after lunch with her ex to say she agreed.Sharanjithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00305072071345093096noreply@blogger.com0