The family you choose yourself.

It is entirely bizarre how one simple change in your routine can affect so much. It was about six months into my new life as a vegan (so, say July) that it occurred to me that I could volunteer my spare time to the local animal shelter.

"Yes, that's what I shall do", I thought. And I did. Not going to lie, it was daunting at first. Two cats; both needing daily medication, new feed, water, bedding and a cuddle. Easy really, just not the medication. It wasn't long until I was doing this all alone for four cats. And not all these cats were friendly; towards each other or myself. That's life I guess. The animal kingdom is much like human society; not all animals/people are nice.

It was roughly around the time I started getting a little smug that I came across "him". A fellow volunteer and friend of mind sent me a message informing me that there were two new cats and I ay want to consider bringing a friend along for some moral support. "Pfft" I thought, "How terrifying can kittens be?" Boy was I wrong. I was horribly outnumbered by two scared full-grown cats and two seven-month-old male Bengal kittens. Twenty minutes later I had endured many bites, scratches and had taken to sooking in the corner as my feline counterparts ran wild.

As I now know, Bengal cats are part tiger (aka Bengal tigers) which makes them more terrifying than your run-of-the-mill house tabby. Patches, the youngest was no exception. He was everywhere at once. He was tiny; obviously the runt of his litter, and would eat four packets of Whiskas in the one sitting. He would scream for hours for attention, then would bite you when he got it. Once I even caught him balancing atop of a cat scratch slapping the other kitties on the head. He was basically the devil in kitten form.

But then something completely illogical happened. I fell in love with him. His brother, Tigger, had just found a new home and Bengals usually need to live with another Bengal, and knowing the rarity of the breed and the odds of another Bengal owner being in the market for a male kitten, I didn't think his chances of being re-homed were very great, considering how in his tiny life he had already had three homes. So after a few fairly heated arguments, a weeks worth of sleepless nights and a rather adequate amount of money, I had committed myself to becoming his fur-mummy.

That was four months ago, however it feels like he has always been a part of this family. Its strange, at the animal shelter he was scary, temperamental and constantly angry but he is so perfectly behaved here. I come home from work each afternoon to him waiting at the front door with those bright eyes so happy to see his mummy is home; I awake at 4am with a headache and he is there to protect me from all that lurks in the dark. He is always there, actually, as I write this now he is curled up in front of me watching the tele.

It hasn't all been fun though. My other baby, Allegra, who I have had since she was a kitten five years ago, has had it out for Patches since day one. She has never had to share and the idea of giving up her things and sharing her food makes her angry, but over the past few months they have came to tolerate one another. It is the same of human siblings too I guess.

Love and the places it can take us.

Something has me all tangled up lately and I am not even sure if I am allowed to justify my fear at this age. You see, I am yet to move away from my parents' home. While living at home into your adult years may be perfectly fine in Russia, it is not, at least in my mind.


I am twenty two as you may already know. While I am fully aware that this is still a relatively youthful age, I can't shake the feeling that I am always being judged as this silly girl who has no aspirations in life, no way of taking care of herself or even has the ability to clothe and feed herself. These are very wrong misconceptions.


The truth is that I have tried many times to move out of home, however each attempt has ended somewhat abruptly before it even began. I am not going to lie, money has had a great hand at my demise as has sickness, but also it has to do with people not wishing to move with me. Up until now I let it be though. I just figured that it was fine, and that it would give me more time to save my pennies and to buy yet another saucepan for the collection of moving out things.


So why has this all flooded back to the surface now? Love. You see, my longterm boyfriend is training to be a pilot. We are all entitled to our dreams and passion and he just happens to be incredibly driven and good at his. He is very supportive of me and my crazy dreams of writing books for a living so who am I to tell him how it is. My agreement to myself was that when his career was ready to take him somewhere far away, that it would be time for me to follow.


While it's not time to completely freak out, quit my job and sell all my belongings on ebay, it is time to start considering the next few months very closely. I don't need to buy new books that I probably will never read, buy clothing I will never wear or waste countless dollars on gourmet delicacies that don't hold enough nutrients. It is the time to make my money and time count for something more than it used to.


But I think it is more than this. I am scared. I have moved before. Three years ago actually. I moved here with my family from Sydney when I was nineteen and I left behind a full life. I had a lot of great friends and I had potential. When I came here it seemed it was all flipped on its head. This place still doesn't feel like home. Maybe I am a little scared that nowhere will ever feel like home again, and that home lies within my mind and how I perceive the universe around me.


I want this though. I feel this town has served its purpose for me. I have learnt lessons through the people I have associated with and I know who I will miss. I will miss my family, and the individuals who I have came to place at a level of importance so high that I would consider them family. It is the fear of the unknown and the fear of losing those I love that is holding me here. For once in my life, I think I need to vote against familiarity and choose to push myself. It is the only way to truly live.


However, as much as I am fearful, I am also elated to begin the next chapter of my life, of our lives. As a live-in couple. We will learn things about each other; strange little things like how many sugars we take in our coffee (mine, not his, he hates coffee) or if he sings in the shower. I guess the future is full of potential and we can either sit by the side lines, scared of the unknown or we can embrace it and be all that we can be, but more.

Living around the mundane

While we all have these huge dreams for this new year and the endless possibilities its freshness possesses; the truth is that much of life is made up of mundane chores and the small day to day things things that need to get done.


A typical day in my shoes, for instance, consists of getting up and feeding my cats, picking up any dirty clothing, stocking all dirty dishes into the dishwasher, sticking on a load of washing; all before I even think about breakfast. But that's life. We don't have servants waiting on us hand and foot.


We live our lives the same way we live our days so we have to embrace the mundane things in life. We must also remember to do extraordinary things with the ordinary as often as we can as these are the things we will remember most later in life. We need to try to schedule in some time to just breathe and put things into perspective.


We each have 24 hours in a day but its what we do with those hours that makes us who we are and will make or break the potential for us to be all that we wish we could be.

The windows to the soul

It fascinated me what is within a person; their beliefs, morals, desires, aspirations, and to know what it is that drives them; to know what is deep within their soul.


On any given day you will pass countless people. Most will be strangers; some will be acquaintances, like that friend or a friend who always waves, but whose name escapes you; and some may be close friends. But how well can you really know a person?


On the exterior we are all anatomically the same; male or female, but it is in the interior that distinguishes us. Behind each face is a lifetime of experiences; a mind filled with aspirations and dreams for their existence; and a soul with a thousand secrets, some never to be uttered in speech.


Within one's life there is almost always a defining moment in which a person decided how it is they will go about their life. It may be the purchase of a drum kit, the first time you saw a sunset through the lens of a camera; or a painting of a room even. Whatever it is, it changes you; it screams inside you until you can't control it anymore. Something within your soul has awoken and life may never be the same again.


It is so utterly intriguing to speak to complete strangers and to catch a glimpse into their world. There's the girl who is studying to be an accountant, but in her spare time is the lead singer of an indie band, has an obsession with eating Milo straight from the tin and collects green buttons; or the boy who is one of the guys, follows NRL religiously, loves his cars but spends Wednesday afternoons reading to his grandmother with dementia at the nursing home 40 minutes away.


I believe that the most horrible act you can commit against yourself is to not be true to yourself. There will never be another you, so it lies on you solely to show this world what you are capable of, regardless of your talent or agenda.


Sometimes blessings come wrapped in ugly wrapping. I decided to become a writer because I felt that somebody needed to write about issues I had personally experienced and had trouble finding support for. I want to show people that they are not alone in times of distress, or just alone in general. The world is a beautiful place, and shouldn't lose its beauty because of some rain clouds.


Smile more. It's scientifically proven that a smile is contagious. You never know what is going through the mind of the people surrounding you. The lady in the grocery aisle behind you may be silently battling cancer, your best friend might be anxious about an exam coming up or maybe your parents are worried about the economy. Whatever is on someone's mind, giving them a smile could be that little glimmer of hope that says 'hang in there, this will pass'.

The power of words.

Growing up, I was never the kid buried inside of a novel. My attention span usually withered at page 20 to be honest. Nowadays however, words complete me. I can't imagine a life not surrounded by books and journals and knowledge. Words are non-discriminatory of your character. Grouped together they have the power to rewrite wrongs; make people fall in love; to make this world better. It is a beautiful thing to be able to take a blank piece of paper and to create something that has the ability to change someone's life. Writing is my deepest passion for this reason alone: through my words I have the potential to help someone who doesn't quite understand, who feels alone or just needs inspiration. My dream is to help those who feel they don't have a voice. I want to write about empowerment of women, mental health and the abolition of animal cruelty. Maybe this world might benefit a little from my writing.

Home.

These are a few photos I took of the beach down the road from my home. Hope you're all enjoying your summer!

To 2012 and having no regrets.

It recently occurred to me that I might not know as much as I thought I did about my loved ones. I am not talking about how many sugars my Dad takes in his tea in the morning (two) or my littlest brother’s favourite alcoholic beverage (everything), but the really truly important things.

When do we cross the line between trying so hard to lead a productive and meaningful life; and actually living it? Being ‘in’ the moment instead of just on the outskirts peering in?

I feel as though in recent months I have failed to see the forest through the trees so to speak. And while I feel I know what I am aiming for, I can’t help but wonder if in the meantime I am losing touch with myself and those I care about in the process.

I think with this New Year now upon us, I have one of two choices. I can either pull back and just breathe; which I know will bring me peace but not much more; or I can get in there and live. Say goodbye to sleep, work my butt off, save my pennies for things that matter like memories and experiences and just live; try and pump 24 hours worth of living into each day.

I think there is really only one choice and that’s option B. If we are all to die by the Mayan predictions this year I don’t want to regret a single moment. So here’s to 2012; and living life to the fullest.