What is it?

The basic idea behind these kits is to provide someone with some basics if they are turned away from a refuge.

Why?

The inspiration for the kits came from two videos I saw. One had a man giving  away backpacks to homeless people.  The other showed how a couple in the USA were creating backpacks to give away for around $20.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y6fkyf9UGAE&feature=youtu.be

I had been putting together some basic hygiene packs for women’s refuges and saw this video as a step in the right direction to helping out more people.  The pivotal moment for me was when they talked about getting second hand back packs and that this was actually better than sourcing new ones as they wouldn’t be as attractive to thieves.

How to do it:

Identify need

Personally, I would find it confronting for both parties to just hand a backpack full of stuff to someone.  Instead, I rang local homelessness services to identify if there were people in need, how many and what (specifically) they might need.

Source backpacks (and other items??)

Although I originally rang Vinnies to ask them to put backpacks aside for me, I found it was actually much easier to ask friends and neighbours. I intend to put up a note in the local school as well.

Contents

I started looking at how to get some basics for $20.  I also spoke with people who work with the homeless about what they thought would be useful.

Through bulk buying, shopping at Aldi and relying on donations, this is what I’ve been able to get for around $20 per pack:

Toiletries:

Toothbrush

Toothpaste (sample size)- ask the local dentist for a few.

Toilet roll

Soap

Deodorant

Comb

The pack should not include razors or spray deodorants.

Food

Food needs to be sealed, long dated, easy to open without the use of tools (like a can opener) and should include a spoon or utensil to eat with.

Can of Corn

Crackers

Baked Beans

Tuna

Biscuits

Spoon

Comfort items

A small rug, throw or blanket (this one is from K-Mart for $5). Gently used, clean items are also good.

A plastic mac

Hand –towel or face washer

Gloves (through donations)

Beanie (through donations- not pictured)

Make up one or make up one a month! Good luck!

I did my Values in Action (Character/Signature Strengths) Survey a few years ago, and found that my number one strength was love. I was utterly bummed. As a woman poised to break into the world of business, ‘love’ was not the strength I was after.  It didn’t shine of hard lacquered marketing prowess. It didn’t resonate with ‘competitive advantage’ or ‘efficiency’ ‘effectiveness’  or promise to “shoot me ahead of the pack”.  It didn’t equate to money.  I’ve never attended a job interview where my capacity to love has been assessed “And can you give me an example of when you’ve expressed your love well?” And how often does it come up in a business proposal?

It’s too bad that we tend to see our strengths as a way to bring in income, that our leanings must be vocationally biased.   Why should ‘vocation’  equate just to ‘earning potential’?  Because I’ve just become certain that my vocation is bringing up kids, and we all know there’s no earning (at least of wages) that’s associated with that.

I just did the survey again and found my number one strength is, yes, still love.  I have to at least admire the long -term consistency of the survey! Plus I’ve accepted, with gratitude that this is my strength. Being a mum, wife and family member means that this strength is the best possible one to have. It’s what it takes. Patience, yes, and restraint and a lot of heavy lifting. But without love, it is all for nothing, means nothing, goes nowhere.

Besides that, my second strength is gratitude and my third, kindness.  It’s not a great business combination, but it’s certainly a brilliant combination for a happy, content and fulfilling life.  And how lucky am I that I am in just the right place to enjoy it?

To do your Values in Action (Signature Strengths) survey,  click on this link. It’s free and kind of fun.
http://www.viacharacter.org/www/

“We are what we repeatedly do” Aristotle

I’m a big fan of habits.  When something becomes a habit, it allows the automatic part of the brain to take over, relieving the smaller, thinking part of the brain to engage in loftier pursuits (like how to word the perfect Facebook status update).  I also like that we’ve gone back to a somewhat archaic  way of thinking, that forming habits takes good old-fashioned will power.  You’ve just got to do it.  And then again.  And then again.  Or in the case of breaking a habit, you just have to not do it. And not do it again. And again.  And so on.

So, if habits take will-power, how can we build that will-power?  I’m really looking forward to going to workshop in May with the Master of Willpower (Baumeister) where I hope to shed more light on this.  But in the meanwhile, I am taking a page from his book (ha-ha) that says we build willpower by choosing a small, unrelated habit and sticking to it.  This might be straightening our posture, for example.  Or in my case, flossing.

I started flossing in earnest when I knew I had some big habits to form and break and knew that I had to work on discipline.  I blended in the Japanese art of Kaizen (start with teeny tiny steps so you don’t startle your brain into rebellion) and began with just flossing one tooth.  After a fortnight, I was flossing every day and thereby building my will power.  What do you know, it works!  Soon I was not drinking, not biting my nails,  not scarfing whole blocks of chocolate, exercising regularly and so on.  They all take time and effort but once they became habitual, the habits stuck.

Until there came The Unraveling.

The pressure was on, and not just ordinary pressure, but emotional pressure.  Three or four major stressors were working in concert.  Add to this a seemingly endless patch of gray weather, mix in a few weeks of broken sleep and the edges of my habits began to fray.   And it seems that once one got knocked over, the rest began to unravel really quickly.  I stopped walking so much which is my best form of exercise and the next thing I was walking by the chocolate aisle and seemed powerless in placing the chocolate in the trolley.  The glass of wine on a weekend quickly extended to a glass of wine a night.  I started biting my nails again.  My will power and my won’t power ran dry, with the final result that I lay in bed at night full of guilt and self -loathing.  Not a great way to live.

So, time to buck up again and face things with grit.  I approached and faced the emotional stressors and I decided to re-instigate the good habits, then knock off the bad ones.  

You guessed it, it started with unraveling the dental floss.  I’m almost back on track now and continuing.  I can recommend it, folks.  Start small, real small, then keep going.  Just keep going. 

Ever felt that you were looking for your niche? Worried that life was passing you by as you sat in the eddies at the side and if you could only get into your true groove it would be (a-hem)  full stream ahead?

Me, too.  The questioning malaise first struck at 27 when I suddenly realized that I was at an age where I should be settled in doing what I should be doing and wasn’t.  Then it never really went away. 

Until recently, when I suddenly realized that my niche is, in fact, a pillow forte.  Take today . I sit here typing one handed as Peggy bats at the keyboard,  avoiding the Shift key that doesn’t work, Queen blasting, Miles is whacking at things with a big spoon and wearing no pants.  It’s cosy. It’s protective. It’s full of joy and tensions and life enough.   The world gets on with its own particular brand of ugly, brilliant and downright weird stuff. I stick my nose out now and then and shake my fist at some kind of madness or another, sign a petition, and then retreat.  Back to the toddler now pouring water off the verandah,  the dodgy shift key, the music, mess, constant interruptions and smiles that span the totality of my life right now.  You can join me if you like.  Time out is time well spent. The world can wait.
*This cute image downloaded from cutearoo.com

I know, I know, I’m a resilience expert.  I’m meant to be immune to the blues.  But, you know what? I reckon it’s pretty normal to be struck by these days.  They may be related to tiredness, general malaise, worry about something, rain or just, a-hem, come out of the blue.  Instead of analyzing, working it all out or beating yourself up (no ‘shoulds’ okay?) just brace yourself and accept that it’s going to be a different day. Let it be a day of small beauty, mini goals, tiny conquests, little victories.

Here’s what I do.

Firstly, forget the future. Tomorrow can take care of itself. You’re just mosying through today. Enough.

Now, picture your being as a great stretch of ocean water.  Some days it is full of movement, joyous waves, excitement, thrills and general highs.  Woo hoo! Leverage these for all they are worth!  They will be with you again. 

Some days, there’s just a large, flat, gray expanse, yawning into the distance. 

On these days, it is up to you to make waves. (Sorry, seems my cheesy metaphor self is speaking today!).  You don’t need big waves, just little restful undulations that will roll you through the day.

To make these small undulations, I’m sorry but you need to do something.  I know that staying in bed seems like the most convenient thing.  Maybe indulge it a little, but then, get up.

Don’t look in the mirror.  Move directly to the kitchen and make a cup of tea.  Don’t think as it brews.  Don’t look at what needs to be done.  Just zone out and look at the steam.  Breathe in. Breathe out.  Good.

The tea, once drunk, will form a tiny, tiny ripple of okayness that will register in your body of wellbeing.  Quickly use this ripple to propel yourself into the shower.  Wash your hair.

Great! The hair washing will cause another slight swell which you can use to perform the next small act.  Do it.  Pat yourself on the back.  Move on.

See how this works? The trick is to leverage each swell.  Wallow in it, savour it, even the tinsiest bump,  and then use it to propel yourself forward to the next action.  I’m mostly a stay-at-home-mum and as your day will no doubt involve different things to do than mine, you will need to diversify.  But can I make some suggestions?

-Do that small thing that’s been really annoying you.  This is something that’s been sitting there or something you see everyday .  Mine, for example, was the smeary dining room window, covered in hand prints.  I did not commit to cleaning the whole window.  I just attacked the stickiest bit.  Ahhh, such satisfaction.

Eat. You must eat. And you must eat protein or porridge or something that gives you a small lift, like a piece of fruit.  All right, have a biscuit, too.

Ignore the news and bad news stories.  If you must go on-line, watch something that uplifts you. Funny videos of cats.  People being nice to each other.  Here’s one I found earlier.  It comes with a mascara warning.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/pictures-that-will-make-you-proud-to-be-a-human-being-aga

Find something beautiful.  Put it where you can see it. Stare.

Contact a friend.  Send a smiley.  Don’t wait for a response.

Do something for someone else.  Give someone that needs it a dollar.  Start a collection.  Sign a petition.  Pick up some rubbish.  Send a loving thought.  Get someone a coffee.

Go outside.

Do something that you will thank yourself for later.  Maybe start dinner or hang the washing out or make the phone call you’ve been avoiding.

Start something you can finish.

Let the day gently pass by. 

Tomorrow will come.  Wake and test the waters.  If you are still blue for a few days, maybe it’s time to seek help.  You will get there.  We all do if we just keep going.

Any tips from you on small things to do to beat the day blues?

About this time last year, I was lamenting to a friend about whatever sleep issue Miles was having at the time and sheepishly admitting that we had let Miles back in to sleep with us or some such parental no-no. 

“Oh well” she said “Whatever you are doing, you are doing it right”. 

You could have picked my jaw up off the floor.  It was only when I heard this, this absolutely validating support of my parenting that I realised how hard parents have it these days.  We always feel that no matter what we are doing, we are doing it wrong.  The Internet has become a bit of  tyrant.  As poor, desparate people search for answers, they are offered advice, criticism and suggestions, but very, very rarely are those wise words offered “You are doing it right”.

But let’s take a step back for a minute and  look at the principles behind our parenting decisions.  They are not:  “I’m doing this because I dislike my child”. Nor, “I’m doing this because I love not sleeping.”  Instead, let’s assume that the majority of us operate under the following principles:

1.     You want the best for your child because they are your child.

2.      You know your child better than anyone else because they are your child.

3.     You want to maximize your own sleep.

I reckon most of us operate under those principles and do you know what? If that’s true, then like my wise friend said, trust yourself.   Whatever you are doing, you are doing it right.

I had another bad dream last night.  Disturbing dreams are part and parcel of disturbed nights, I find: disturbed because a demanding creature is snuggled into bed with me (no, not Mick), and I have to be at least half awake all the time to tend to her many nighttime needs. (Is she warm enough? Too hot? Are the blankets away from her face? Where’s the pillow? Is she hungry again already? And again?)

So, in this particular dream, I’m belted into a plane seat and we are taking off and despite my usually successful technique of holding my breath and chanting “Lift, lift, lift” the plane lurches forward, falls sickeningly fast and lands, quite gently really, into the sea.  I start to undertake my emergency evacuation procedures, only to be told (scathingly) by the air attendant that I’m not prepared as I haven’t read the textbook and undertaken the exam.  I am handed these items as I sit in my chair in the sinking plane and start to read as fast as I can.  I start to write as fast as I can.  But there are hundreds of questions, the plane is lurching, my handwriting is deteriorating.  What’s worse, everyone else has done the exam.  They finished ages ago and there appears to be a celebration going on.  People are clapping, throwing streamers and cheering.  They’re having fun and eating popcorn and dancing around and I’m still strapped in the seat with a lump of despair growing in my stomach and the knowledge that they’ve all worked it out, and I suck. Then I notice that one of them is crying, realise it’s next to me, realise that it’s my baby and wake to feed her.

Anxiety dreams like this used to be frequent when I started new jobs, where I always felt inadequate and with a sneaky feeling that I’d tricked everyone into giving me work when really, I sucked.  And my job right now is being a mum.  There are no KPIs for parenting, no annual reviews, and let’s face it: if we all performed the job as poorly as we do in the first three months, no one would pass the probation period of parenting.

The Internet is really a poor substitute for a text book (I worked out that everyone on those Internet forums with strange codes like DD and DS is desperate and wild, basically because their kid won’t sleep, and everyone answering these desperate and wild queries is helpless and completely zomboid with their own lack of sleep whilst all the people who have worked it out aren’t on the Internet at all  and are, in fact,  having a sleep).

What’s more, although parenting involves many, many tests, there are no real exams.  The only outcome we can mark our success by is our kid. And oh dear, they just will not perform!  From public screaming tantrums, to peace shattering wall kicking at bedtime, to upending dinner on the floor, refusing to say ‘hello’, ‘please’, ‘thank you’ or ‘sorry’, starting, and then stopping, toilet training, snatching, shouting, booting gifts across the room, not going to bed, never saying number 5 (as in 1, 2, 3, 4, 6….), not going to bed again, crying cause we’ve moved the toy truck the wrong way, refusing to get in the car seat, not going to bed again… Is there anything I’ve missed?

And really, all up, I reckon my kid is pretty normal.  All this stuff is interspersed with things that make my heart swell with love and pride. Hundreds of examples of this, every day.  But just like in any job, it’s so easy to focus on the  bits where it’s all going wrong.

So, we need to throw out the text book (the internet), forget the exam  (how our kids are behaving) and we need a set of KPIs that suit our parenting and, more importantly, our kids.

Let’s start with something simple that means at the end of the day (if there is an ‘end of the day’ in parenting) we can feel that we’ve achieved something.   Let me kick it off with something I committed to doing last year and am still managing most days.

At least once a day:

-Make Miles’ face light up

Then, how about:

-Play on the floor and/or run around the yard together

-Prepare a meal that is mostly eaten

-Clean his teeth

-Check that he has reasonably clean skin and clothes

For Peggy

-Check she has reasonably clean skin and clothes

-Play the gazing goo-goo-gah game

-Feed her

For me:

-Have a shower

-Eat something other than muesli

-Walk somewhere (if it isn’t raining)

And that’s it.  Maybe some more nice achievable goals?

What are your parenting KPIs?

I can’t turn the page of my book right now, and it’s not because of one of the many usual reasons that colour my life these days; that my baby has fallen asleep on my arm and turning the page will wake her or that she’s lifted her head and caught my eye with that look that means “We need to talk”.  Or even that I’ve glanced up and seen a dangling spider web, representative of the myriad of  neglected home, business and personal care chores that I should be doing instead of ‘wasting my time’, reading fiction.  No, it’s not for these reasons that I can’t turn the page but my own reluctance because the heroine is about to do something thoughtless that will hurt the hero.  I’ve walked about and berated my literary friend and shoveled down another bowl of cereal and wrung my hands on her behalf, but I know she’s going to go ahead and do that hurtful thing, right on the next page and I can’t stop her!

It’s for reasons such as this giddying suspenseful moment that I’m so grateful that I’ve returned to reading, and not just of non-fiction books. There was a time there where I gave up on reading.  My reality seemed so distorted that I felt that I could only deal with truth, and the kind of truths contained in the solid dependability of scientific facts. I could not abide by fakeness in any form- in people, in life and even imaginative fiction.

As a child brought up surrounded by books, (literally the filled floor to ceiling bookshelves went with us on all our various moves) and one who spent many hours under the blankets with a torch, unable to relinquish a good book to bed -time, the fact I could not read stands as a symptom of just how swamped my mind was in swirling currents of confusion.  Perhaps part of my reason was that my genre of choice had always been murder mysteries and having experienced murder in  my life, I could not read anything sharp and jarring and, essentially, so different to how it really was. 

Perhaps it was the feeling that I was far too fragile, that I had already felt too much emotion and I didn’t have any spare for a book character.  It seemed that it was only facts, real and true facts that would form the stepping- stones to carry me out of the swamp.

Later, it seemed that I was so full of the white noise of grief that any spare cognitive capacity that I had should be devoted to the pursuit of professional development, in my learning of how things were so that I could pass that on to my audience.

But I found that even in my rigid searching for truth and facts, I would be skimming the page, over the statistics and scientific findings and graphs, looking for anecdotes and first hand accounts and stories of real people in real lives.  I noticed the same in lectures and conferences, whether it was me talking or someone else on stage, the audience would be lulled and half dulled by the appearance of statistics, graphs and facts, but the minute the words “When I was a student…. “ or “Three years ago…” or “A friend of mine…” were spoken, there was a straightening of spines, an opening of eyes, a leaning forward to listen.

For it is stories that capture us. As children, we would gather around my father and sit close to the fire and he would enthrall us with imaginative tales about characters that had experiences almost exactly, but not quite like, our own.  His heroes and heroines were strange, but endearing beasts who succeeded despite the barriers to their happiness: unjust siblings, unfulfilled dreams, accidents, incidents or false friends.  As he wove stories of everyday heroism, loss, courage and redemption, he fashioned for us the tools that we would need to fight the battles of childhood.  In doing so, he not only imbued in us all a love of the imagination, of suspense and mystery and adventure but gave us an outlet to safely explore our own experiences as narrative and ultimately, hope.

I found myself using the same tool with my 4 year old daughter, when I was helpless to take the hurt away when her father had left.  She’d chosen a book from the library herself, a rather dull picture book about catching buses and I took liberty of the fact she couldn’t yet read to tell my own tale.  The girl in the book was sad because her father had just left her (by catching a bus, funnily enough).  Malee lent forward and soaked in every word about how the sadness was real and hard to hide, but that her mummy loved her and her daddy loved her and it was okay for her to feel sad and happy and in the end, it would all be okay. ( Of course she threw me for a six at the end by saying “Again!”. )

Imagine my delight, then, when I found that there were scientific reasons to read (and enjoy) fiction that those who read develop more imagination (of course) but also more compassion, more empathy and more social skills. I could show you some graphs and facts, but I can feel your eyes glazing so I’ll just leave you with a link.  http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=in-the-minds-of-others

So, I can return to my fictional heroine when my baby next demands a feed and grit my teeth and read through squinted eyes her next foolish action, safe in the (scientifically backed!) knowledge that by reading, I am extending myself as a human being, surely a commendable pursuit.   

Seasons' greetings to all of you who are celebrating (hopefully with some holidays thrown in!).

Not to put a downer on things, but sometimes things happen in the year that make it difficult to feel like celebrating.  Last year I published an article called Christmas Crackers with some hints about what to do.  Hopefully, you won't need it.  Otherwise,

Christmas Crackers- what to do when the silly season gets serious

I remember as a kid seeing the first glint of tinsel in the supermarket and the instant fission of excitement: Wow! It’s nearly Christmas!

Not so long ago, I greeted the same sight with a feeling of dread.  Christmas already? Oh, no!

At its core, the Season’s celebrations are primarily around family. This is wonderful when everything is peachy at home but can serve as a cruel reminder if the family has changed in some way through the year.  There’s nothing quite like having to split your holiday with a newly split family or eat dinner in the presence of the ‘empty chair’.

It’s not just loss that can create stresses at this time of year.  Many of us are struggling to make ends meet and are facing the daunting prospect of going into debt in order to buy presents.  And even the most functional of families can start to fray when you add heat, expectations, alcohol and a year’s worth of disappointments to mull over.

A few years ago, when death rocked our family in September and the December festivities loomed, we made the radical decision to just cancel Christmas. We still got together, but there were no presents, no Christmas tree and the main meal was a Jamie Oliver risotto.  We held a ritual around candles to honour our loved ones and we breathed a collective sigh of relief that we didn’t have to fight our way through shopping malls, picking over bargains or asphyxiate in a kitchen baking dinners when it was hitting 40 degrees outside.

The ease with which that year’s celebrations passed made me aware of how important it is to minimize the stresses of the season.  So in the spirit of sharing, here are my top seven tips of how to make it through:

1.     If your family has gone through loss or change through the year, take time to have a chat about how Christmas or your festive celebrations should look well before the day. 

2.     Acknowledge anyone that is missing through a ritual that you agree on- perhaps sharing a story or setting a place at the table.  Yes, it will remind you that they aren’t there, but seriously, has anyone really forgotten that?

3.     Simplify the shopping as much as possible.  Have lists, consider shopping online (if you have time) and consider postponing gift giving until after the January sales.

4.     Simplify the cooking and preparation as much as possible as well.  Consider cold cuts for lunch, cooking a few days before or, if entertaining, asking everyone to bring one dish. 

5.     My in-laws, and now my family have instigated a form of Kris Kringle across all adults- you are told a couple of months before Christmas who you are buying for and are given a budget (e.g. no one spends more than $70).  It’s so wonderful to just shop for one person and get something decent that you know they will like. 

6.     On the day, take time out to have a break and breathe.  If it’s really painful, remind yourself that it’s just one day and that you can get through it.

7.     Dare I say it?  Take it easy with hitting the alcohol.  It’s like our entire culture has agreed that the merry season is the messy season and it’s okay to get totally out of control.  I would be a total hypocrite if I said “don’t drink”, but perhaps just taking a break, drinking a tonne of water between vinos or waiting til the evening to start imbibing- that’s the kind of thing that leads to less regrets.

Wishing peace to you all.

Ingrid