As my light becomes dark

I intertwine my words and vision into woven light

Thursday, January 31, 2013

Oh the places you'll go ~ Dr Seuss....gratitude already at work!!

Already the gratitude movement begins....grateful for this email this morning....thank you Deb :-)

On 31/01/2013, at 10:19 AM, "Deborah Ellks" wrote:

Sarah, just read your blog….fresh, raw, honest, free, and so YOU!!!!! Thanks for sharing. I trust 2013 is going to be awesome whatever it brings!!! Keep in mind your outcome …. Peace, contentment, there’s a million roads to there……no right .. no wrong….and most important of all … enjoy!
With love deb x

Deb Ellks

From: Sarah []
Sent: Thursday, 31 January 2013 11:07 AM
To: Deborah Ellks
Subject: Re: blog

Oh hello!!!

Thank you....your email has warmed my heart and yet again added to the things I'm grateful for :-) I don't like to break things down too much and micro analyze and say THIS IS THE YEAR WHEN ALL GOOD THINGS HAVE TO HAPPEN....I know that's not how it works....(actually I am a micro analyst!!!!) but trying the each day as it comes method, see how I go....


From: "Deborah Ellks"
Date: 31 January 2013 11:21:37 AM AEDT
To: "'Sarah'"
Subject: RE: blog

enjoy the journey and have a great day!!! Funnily enough I’m sitting here writing a report, and gone back to basics in structuring the report…OMG……here’s my inspiration for today (for me….and now you if you choose!)…I keep reading to myself out loud!!! And giggling occasionally.

“You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

D x

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

My Personal Gratitude Movement

I stand waiting at the train stop.  I stand with a thought.

I want to be grateful.

I stop and look up...I don't think it is that simple, we live in an extremely busy world, we have numerous roles, expectations, want more, have more.  I am one of these people, yet I always thought I was rather connected, connected to the earth, but I'm guilty of being caught in the complexities of filling my life with all things unnatural.

So how do I get this sense of being back?

As I embarked into 2013 I did not make any resolutions for the New Year.  However, I did have a conversation with myself in my dreamy sleep state:

“Let this year be one where I am just content, find that place where peace is my companion and learn to be in the now.”

The only place is the now.

Days have passed since that thought however this idea of being content and in the now, keep taking me to a place of gratitude "be grateful for today Sarah, feel today's greatness"  The idea of gratitude is with me every day, this I know but it's my awareness that is lacking, the acknowledging of its powerful presence.

So how can I live a more enriched life?  I know this isn't a new idea; gratitude is a lifelong commitment people have been making for centuries.  So why does this have to be different for me?? I have let this idea rest within me and then as the world generally does I have been presented with signs of encouragement about how gratitude is actually a strong force in my life.

Firstly a piece of writing entered my blog reel, cementing this idea.  Melanie Selemidis, who I believe is one of the most talented writers, but mostly she is my beautiful friend, constantly she reminds me what gratitude is by the presence she has in my life.  I have known her for almost 20 years and she creates a world that has shown me unconditional love and amazing experience.  She was asked to contribute to a piece of writing compiled by her friend and another talented writer Anita Heiss where on her blog she poses the question "what are the 5 things you are grateful for?"  Reading Melanie's response, which can be found on both her and Anita's blog at Melanie Selemidis and Anita Heiss and after reading other peoples answer to the same question I felt totally inspired, committing me to the gratitude movement. 

Secondly I had a conversation with Emma Barton, who admittedly I don’t know all that well, however feel completely grateful for her coming into my life through her amazing partner Paul McCann, who continually inspires me to think beyond the line walked upon each day (thanks Paul!!)  I said to her I would like to write/create a gratitude blog/FB page where my challenge is to track a thing or things I am grateful for each day and invite people to contribute and she thought it was a great idea and as she said “they say gratitude is a key ingredient of happiness” following by not applying pressure to contribute every day and keep it more organic and contribute whenever I feel grateful - it could be several times a day or once a week. She finished by saying she thought it was a lovely idea and was sure to make her feel happy reading it.

 This year it will be 18 years ago that I was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa (RP).  For the past 18 years I have lived with, through, beside, in denial, because of, in response to and against the disease.  Before I began writing and even thinking about gratitude I would have said living with RP would be the thing I am the least grateful for having in my life, believing that my life would be better, that I would be better, without it.  

Then entered the book Focus written by Ingrid Ricks a memoir about her journey from being diagnosed with RP, raising two daughters developing the relationship with her husband, navigating her way through her career and how this condition turned her life upside down but landed her in a place where living her dreams was the only thing possible.  Then something occurred to me.  It is because of this condition I discovered Focus and was lucky enough to connect with Ingrid, you can find more about Ingrid through her blog Ingrid Ricks and i have been able to see that living with RP is not a death sentence.

It's because of the condition I have connected with other people in the RP community each living and discovering the world through limited vision.  I was fortunate through my job that I was able to meet a fantastic and inspiring guy, Mitch Barrie who works in our clients contact centre, after almost two years of conversation with him, never having once discussed my condition we discovered each other on a community Retinitis Pigmentosa page on Facebook, he too lives with condition.  Through his courage and similar struggles professionally I was able to gain the confidence to approach my employers with my personal concerns about my vision. 

On that note professionally the past year has been one full of peaks and troughs.  However, the one thing I have learnt is to trust in others.  I had to admit weakness to my manager that I believed my eyesight was impacting how I did my job, he showed me I was and am more than a person living with Retinitis Pigmentosa.  Matt Mannix, is by far the greatest role model I have had in a professional sense, he has mentored me to a place where I am always eager to learn more, and because of the eye condition, I have pushed myself to learn as much as I can.

I can’t deny there are times of complete negativity and I have allowed my fears take total control, it has stopped me from doing things, going places, taking risks, it cripples me, rips my heart out and throws it around.  Enter Anita Balaz, another contact through work, she works with Mitch and has shown me such warmth in the smallest of things, re-affirming about the living in the now, re-affirming about how all I have is control over the NOW in my life.

I am grateful mostly for the people I have in my life and the ones that keep me grounded. Another sign how gratitude is present in my life on the weekend just past my god mother, Bernie Dean, reminded me how lucky I am to have had experiences, I have travelled overseas and had tried many things.  She reminded me because of RP I've lived my dream of waking up in Paris.

This condition is the backbone, force and inspiration, it makes me stop and look, feel and breathe in my world, it is because of RP I have to “see” in different ways, making me think of Kaylene Evers another friend who I seem to be connected with in a spiritual sense, I always know when there is something going on in her life and she needs some support, constantly she reminds me of the power of friendship and “being there” in whatever sense it is and how being true to who you are is the most important thing.  I am constantly grateful for her allowing me to be there for her.  And then there is Agnes Demes, my housemate, the craziest (in the kindest sense!!) woman I know, she does things, she goes places, takes risks and does not regret, sharing a living space with her has been one of an eye opener for me.  Then there is my Mum, my grandmother, my aunt Nicole, my nephew Jackson and his deep eyes, and my niece Isabel, loving every aspect of the world , my friend Troy, cousin Laura, I could go on listing the people in my life......

So anyway, going back to the start, I am sitting in my apartment finally understanding gratitude and from today, I want to dedicate time, a huge amount of time to my living and dedicating to the gratitude movement and feature on my blog, entries showing the things I am grateful for.  I would like to invite you also to contribute and show your own gratitude....feel free to email me on the things that make your life more enriched and I will be sure to feature them on my blog.

I want to thank you for reading this and if I haven’t mentioned you in the above it doesn’t mean you have not played a part in who I am or what I am.  It means there is a entry coming dedicated just to you......

Friday, January 25, 2013

The Dream; number 4

You threw stones
Like empty words
That broke my heart
I watched as the moon
Pulled the light
From its pocket
And the shadows came
Deep into me
Like you did

Thursday, January 24, 2013

The Dream; number 3

We sit beneath
The gold of the wattle tree
Taking rest
By the mud infused dam
We were told
She was a wandering spirit
Moved by the flow
Of our love
And like breath

We hold onto it

The Dream; number 2

You have fallen out
Of my dreams
Upon my pillow
Returning to
Me each night
Broken in pieces
For me to put you back

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Dream

I had a dream with you last night.
We were sitting by an indoor swimming pool.
Birds kept flying toward us.
The roof had the texture of a floral painting and the birds had been sketched
into the air.
Neither of us went swimming, but you went into the change rooms but never came out....

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

the hunger

we are dressed in black
to mourne the darkness
covering the light
that is not bright enough
to shine

Sunday, January 6, 2013


why Christmas is sometimes the hardest time of the year...

She looks around,  she is doing the last mental check making sure that everything is done before finally going home.  Display fridges clean, dishwasher emptied, food covered, coffee machine turned off, floors swept and chairs pushed in.   She sighs; relieved her day is finally over.  She flops onto the couch by the door waiting for him to finish counting the day’s takings.  He looks up at her "Only five days to go" he says.     She closes her eyes.  SHUT UP she screams in her my mind, SHUT UP.  Five days until what?  Until Christmas? What to have a day’s grace, only to return to the murderous Boxing Day slaughter, where all goodness will have flown the coup.  Then its 365 days until next Christmas where this same repetitive, soul breaking experience occurs again.  

Hardly seems like it’s been 365 days since last Christmas.  It’s been 1460 days since the first Christmas when this all began, this repetitive, drone existence she now lives every day.  If only he knew this was her last Christmas here, doing this.   Opening her eyes she feels dirty and grimy, her hair messy and greasy from cooking kilos of bacon and dozens of eggs, the food to feed the hungry.  It is midnight but the heat is still lingering in the air.  It’s predicted that the heat wave will continue to mid January and this plagues her mind.  This is day eight with temperatures into the high thirties.  It’s her 6th day straight working 14 hour days with less than four hours sleep a night.  She feels as though she is under a blanket of heat.  Objects are starting to increase in size before her eyes, noises are louder, minutes seem longer, yet there is nowhere to lie down and sleep.  Sleep is a distant dream.  

She looks out through the glass, people still loitering out the front of the shopping centre.  GO HOME she screams at them in her mind, GO HOME.  Other retailers begin to leave for the night, some looking in giving her forced smiles, she watches them make their way to their cars, dragging their feet and heads hung low.  The remains of today still with her, smelling stale sour milk on her clothes, she made coffee after coffee.  It didn’t stop all day.

She is hungry for sleep, deep restful sleep.  As soon as she opened her eyes this morning she was longing and desiring for today’s darkness to come and greet her.     She feels her head get heavy, resting on the back of the couch, her mind wanders seeing images of herself walking in a tunnel and ascending a flight of stairs from St Michel train station in Paris, where she is greeted by the breath taking sight of the Notre Dame Cathedral.   Her heart begins racing, keeping score between dreams and reality.  How will she tell him?  How will she tell him that today she booked a flight to Paris?      She drifts back to her dream seeing herself step into the daylight, feeling the sunlight on her face, breathing in, no longer wanting to hurry, no longer worrying, and no longer trapped.  Soon this dream will become reality.    

Where does the brain find spaces to hide these kinds of thoughts?  Such a small place, but full of thousands of tiny little compartments to tuck away thoughts and urges, little draws, with little handles that close and lock away all her desires.  This is to protect her. Words to a song come to her mind, repetitive words “Dream catch me when I fall, or else I won’t come back at all.....”  She wonders are dreams the place where she goes to feel free, no rules, no expectations, where she is protected.  In dream land there is always light, warm light, and freedom.     

Suddenly, something pulls her from her hazy dream like state, life protecting her from slipping out of reality.  But opening her eyes she realises that this dream was soon to become reality, the little draw containing this thought was now open and the dream released.   Finally he has finished counting the money and she can leave.  She pulls herself from the the comfort of the couch, feeling her legs throb from standing on them all day.  She looks up catching her reflection in the window, darkness around her eyes, dry cracked lips, and pasty skin, pale, vacant.  She locks eyes with the reflection for a second wondering who is it that she sees?  She looks away.   She opens the door and is met with a wave of heat, mixed in with the stale smell of deep fried chicken and rubbish overflowing from the bin and scattered all over the ground.  It is midnight but the shopping centre is still piping Christmas carols throughout the car park.  26 days ago they began playing The Twelve Days of Christmas.  The same compilation on repeat hour after hour, the same music they played last Christmas and the four Christmas before.  She wonders when this nightmare will end?

Lights off, alarm activated and he closes the door behind them.  They walk to their cars, which are parked at the very back of the car park; a warm wind blows on her face.  Another day finally over.  She says goodbye to her father.  He smiles at her.  “See you in the morning”.  She gets into her car and watches as he drives off.     She sighs; there is no escaping hard work even when darkness falls.  Thoughts of tomorrow already begin to flood her mind as she starts her car and drives from the car park.  She makes a mental note she must remember to go and buy some spinach in the morning, place a cake order, buy some ice and get change from the bank.  She also must find time to tell him she is leaving for Paris after Christmas.     Her mind goes numb as she drifts back over the day’s repetitive routine, feeling her eyes go heavy, she repeats the same monotonous tasks over and over in her mind, seeing herself walk back and forth, her soul almost imprinted into the lino covered floor that she walked upon.  Why me?  A repeated, re occurring question she keeps asking herself.  She relies on the almost rehearsed routine, where she uses familiar faces as a reminder.  Glum faces, pained faces, ones full of distrust, anger and hatred.  Faces belonging to people who sit in the same spots to read the same magazines, ordering the same things, wanting the same simple, empty conversations. Today was the day Scooter lady scooted in on her motorised scooter to escape the heat to have her repetitive half a toasted-tasty cheese and tomato sandwich and an extra hot cappuccino, she was the reminder that today was Thursday. Never changing her routine.     She sighs, feeling dejected, dirty, drowsy but mostly disheartened. 

How is she going to tell him?  It will then be he who will then feel dejected and disheartened. She feels her eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer; she slumps in her seat as she approaches the intersection as the traffic lights change from yellow to red.  Her mind drifts back to Paris, thoughts of the Moulin Rouge, cabaret shows, feathers and sequins and flashing lights and she is amongst it all.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

roam where love waits

sea legs
sea arms
the sound
of stones
that drag me
along the floor
of your ocean