As you know since for the last two months I’ve wanted a proper home. That living in a three-bedroom apartment with four of us-was no longer worth the cheap rent. I was ready to live with a friend instead of random strangers, to have our own apartment that we both loved coming home to. A place we could extend our hospitality to friends and family. A harmonious and serene environment we called home.
So I asked a good friend of mine if she would like to move into an apartment with me, and she said yes. Excited with our new project, we started apartment hunting. A two-bedroom apartment meant my monthly rent would go up by a minimum of two hundred dollars, probably closer to three. We just needed to find one that was designed where the rooms weren’t next door to each other. That was close to the city, big enough for my furniture and to entertain. It would be easy, right?
It wasn’t. We did the frantic early Saturday morning viewings, cramming in a different apartment every fifteen minutes – to be disappointed each and every time. It was draining and it felt wrong, I didn’t want to house hunt – but couldn’t figure out what was holding me back.
Finally, I had to tell her the truth – there was something not right about looking for an apartment, at the moment. We agreed to
wait for a month or two until my head was in the right space. During that time, inspiration struck. The couple I was currently living with wanted to move out in four months time - why didn’t my friend just wait and move in to my current apartment? It was seven minutes by car from the city, twenty by tram. It was big and the rent was really cheap. It was the perfect idea.
I spoke to the other guy who we were living with, and he said he was thinking about moving out in two months anyway, so it was fine with him. Boom! Brilliant - my friend and I were ecstatic. In four months time we would have a three-bedroom apartment for the same price as a two-bedroom apartment. The universe was looking after us.
But then life got even sweeter to us. The couple decided to move out the same time as the other flatmate for whatever reason. So in two months time we will be creating the home that both of us want to live in. It took two months, but my friend and I have achieved the impossible.
Thank you to all the powers that be.
Life is GOOD!
I have always used dating as a place of adventure. I’ve dated Australians, Italians, French, Philippine, Sri Lankan, Seychellois,
Maldivian, American, Canadian, British, Irish, Romanian, South African, and sometimes I’ve said yes because I have never been on a date with a man from that particular country. I’ve gone on dates with people because of their occupation, one guy in particular was a Quantum physicist and that intrigued me so much I said yes. I also wanted to ransack his knowledge about the theory of
sound vibration, which I was using in a fiction short story for Uni. I have had the mantra either it will be a good thing (the guy will be great) or a story. And I must have more of an interest in stories than good guys, because generally I’m a one-date wonder, I don’t often give guys a second chance.
This comes back to a previous blog, where I said I put on such a performance that by the end of the date, I’m drained, bored and they actually know nothing about me and so I don’t feel a connection.
My dear friend has recently been teaching me the power of values to attract a more fitting relationship. She believes you need to know what you value, and what values you find attractive in a potential boyfriend/girlfriend. This turns the whole conundrum around. You appreciate people differently. Instead of looking for somebody with certain physical or lifestyle characteristics, you look at what they value and if it resonates with your values.
My friend wrote down five key values, and within a month she had found someone who had those values, and now they have a really healthy, loving, beautiful relationship. So I thought, I’m single – I’m sick of having stories’instead of great guys, so why not give it a go?
Yesterday, I created an image based vision board. I used Google images and found a picture representing Happiness, Honesty, Respect, Spirituality, Love, Sexual Connection/Intimacy, and Marriage. The last one freaks me out a little, it feels like I'm going against my feminist values to admit that i'm, at heart, an old fashioned romantic. That I dream of a guy who loves me, and believes in the love we have between us that he wants to marry me. Corny perhaps but true.
I believe you need to have a direction to achieve. Destiny is not by chance, it’s a choice. So if you haven’t a clear picture of your future, if you want to add some extra power to your goals, why not create your own vision board? Use images and words to create the picture of your future. Think about what you could gain by doing it, because you have nothing to
Here’s to our success - I believe
The black two piece costume clung with damp neediness to my curvaceous form. I say curvaceous as a polite way of saying I’m at least five kilos over the appropriate weight for someone of my height/age. To state it bluntly, without my usual layers of Melbourne Black my bathing suit showed my rounded stomach, my big thighs and small boobs. I was as close to naked as I could get with my closest female friends and family at the hot springs.
Getting naked, letting it all hang out, had been a theme of the last year of my life. Physically it was a challenge, but getting soul naked is even harder.
When I’m with new people, or dating, I put on a grand show. I smile, laugh at their jokes, compliment sincerely ‘Wow – that’s so interesting’ even when I’m bored out of my being. I project whatever I think they want to see/hear, whatever will make them like and accept me. I hold back any negative comments, any snide remarks, or conflicting opinions. I don’t let them see anything of me.
My mantra at the moment is “I am able to share my true self with others.” And partly this is why I began a blog, to get real with the world. To stop the show. To reveal more than is wise. To get naked with y’all.
When I went to Europe recently, I ended up dating and I dared myself to let the mask dissolve…a little. I refused to madly fill gaps in conversation. I deliberately broke the rule “Ask people questions and they will think you are interesting.” I just sat back, chilled and actually thoroughly enjoyed myself.
In London, a friend taught me a mantra “Say what you mean, and mean what you say.” And that’s another piece of advice I’m doing my best to take on board. I only had a limited time in London, and an acquaintance wanted to catch up. Instead of making up a nice excuse and lying, I decided to be honest and tell her (nicely) that I didn’t have enough time, and that I really needed and wanted to spend the small amount of time in London with my closest friends.
In the end, honesty feels better than dishonesty. It means I am beginning to communicate from my heart and soul. There are still things sometimes I don’t know how to say, or I worry about hurting others in my honesty. But overall getting raw, authentic and naked has been empowering.
Yesterday a friend of mine turned to me; her brown eyes filled apprehension and asked, “How do you feel turning thirty?”
When I replied I was excited, she just nodded sceptically and changed the subject.
I can understand her disbelief. I was, until a recent trip to Europe, an ageist. I judged people by age, young people were generally considered lacking in substance and worth and people over thirty were the wise ones that could teach and guide me. Seeing age
as a virtue makes it easier to be excited about entering my thirties. But being an ageist, also meant I refused to date younger men. In Europe, a friend was telling me about being in love with a much younger man. In my mind, I was wondering why she couldn’t find someone ‘age-appropriate’ but out of my mouth came these words: ‘love knows no age’.
This was an epiphany, a serious Oprah ‘ah-ha’ moment. I realised that I had limited love. I had refused to date younger men and be friends with younger people, I’d used age as a defence that stopped love from entering my life. Since this realisation I’ve
released this barrier and only good things have come from it. It's also helped me re-think age.
Other cultures view age differently and in Turkmenistan they have defined the stages of ageing as:
Age of the prophet 49-62
Age of inspiration 62-73
White bearded elder 73-85
Old age 85-97
Age of Oguz Khan 97-109
If I go by this theory, I’m half way through my youth and don’t have to worry about maturity for another seven years – happy days!
When I was in my early-mid twenties I expected to be married, well situated in my career, to have bought a
house and probably be thinking about babies. And apologies to my younger self – I’ve not fulfilled any of those expectations and am not even close. But, I’m never been happier - even single, a professional student (my polite way of saying that I have no career), and renting.
A good friend from England who has achieved the above milestones emailed me a reminder that these goals
are what we think we should have and are given to us from fairy stories, parents, TV, etc. She reminded me that sometimes we work so hard to achieve, that we forget to see the success that we have.
When I was managing spas in the Maldives and Seychelles, I drowned myself in work – ten, twelve hours a day
six days a week if not more. Once I worked thirty-four days without a day off. I did it for my career, to get ahead, to be a success, maybe, also to be considered a ‘good worker’ or to earn the respect of my team and colleagues. I
didn’t see myself as a success; I worked hard not to fail.
Now, in a different way, I’m guilty of doing the same thing. I can spend thirty-forty hours on an essay to
get a high mark – so I’m seen as a successful Uni student, to prove that I have done the right thing going back to Uni. I can sacrifice spending time with
family and friends, fun, enjoying life – everything in my pursuit of success.
And I’ve never really celebrated any of my marks or achievements at Uni.
is living life as you choose. I am living the life I want to live, and that’s
my success I will be celebrating as I turn thirty tomorrow. My question for you
is what achievements can you celebrate?
Penelope Jane Jones.