carly macaulay

the literature of women’s lives is a tradition of escapees, women who have lived to tell the tale.. They resist captivity. They get up and go. They seek better worlds.

-Phyllis Rose

I have been quiet here lately, away, for quite sometime now, I know. There has really been nothing that has been ready to say. No truth that needed to be revealed, not until now, anyway. I’m in the in-between. Moving slowly and allowing myself to build in strength. I have let go of all that my story entailed and will leave the pages blank for a while. There are deep hard questions that I need to ask myself now. Ponderings that only arise when all the children are asleep, when the house is still and there’s nowhere to hide, from myself. What was it I believed about myself that would allow another to come in and ever so slowly and carefully dismantle me, my worth? What belief is it I must hold that would say, you are undeserving beside the ones you love, the ones you care for and give your life to? Where did the deep value and love for myself go? I didn’t notice it leave. For so long I didn’t fight for myself. I allowed whatever expectations I had about what I deserved, to slowly fall to such a place that I began to believe and hold on to what was happening as if it was my truth, a devastating portrayal of myself. I would catch myself sending silent whispers off into the world, wondering if this was to continue to be my story. While travelling in the car with my children and my husband, my own reflection caught me in the car window and in that very inconvenient moment I was hit hard with a deafening sadness, where I had to fight with great strength to hold back the tears that were begging to fall but in such way that I knew if I am to begin now I may never stop crying. I may never be able to escape the depths of this grief, grief for the loss of myself. This is the moment it became so very clear to me, if I stay in this, I simply would not survive.

“The pages are still blank but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible”

-Vladimir Nabokov

and what you do not know is the only thing you know

and what you do not know is the only thing you know.

and what you do not know is the only thing you know

You say I am repeating

Something I have said before. I shall say it again.

Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,

To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,

You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.

In order to arrive at what you do not know

You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.

In order to possess what you do not possess

You must go by a way of dispossession.

In order to arrive at what you are not

You must go through the way in which you are not.

And what you do not know is the only thing you know

And what you own is what you do not own

And where you are is where you are not.

T.S.Eliot, Four Quartets,East Coker quartet 2

takings from.. Simone de Beauvoir, The Prime of Life

takings from.. Simone de Beauvoir, The Prime of Life.

takings from.. Simone de Beauvoir, The Prime of Life

“I spotted a hut in the middle of a field, near the Château de Rosay, its windows glinting in the sun, and the word café painted in giant letters on the roof. I went in for a drink, and asked the proprietor if he had rooms to let . He offered me a little cottage some fifty yards off, with a thatched roof on which iris was in bloom. The following week I spent five days there. There were red tiles on the floor of my room, and i slept in a farmhouse bed under a plumped-out blue eiderdown: at five in the morning I awoke to the sound of cocks crowing. Eyes still shut, I let myself drift between sleeping and waking, between mornings long past and the light now welling up behind my shutters. When i opened the cottage door, there was green grass, and trees all in blossom. I would go and have coffee, and put a table up under an apple tree, and become once more that little girl doing her holiday task under the catalpa tree at Meyrignac. It was to her that i was now offering what, in various forms, she had so often dreamed of: a little house to herself. ”

-Simone be Beauvoir, The Prime of Life

day after curry…Jamie style

day after curry…Jamie style.

day after curry…Jamie style

Jamie oliver is eminent for creating the most flavoursome dishes from left overs. We had slow roasted beef for Christmas lunch and an amazing curry with flat bread with the left overs, the next night.

For the curry

ingredients: left over meat or chicken, 2 potatoes,1 onion diced,1/2 cup green peas, 2 heaped tablespoons of curry powder, 1 teaspoon yellow mustard seeds,3/4 litre chicken stock, chilli (optional) season to taste

method: pull apart the meat or chicken, dice the potatoes in 1cm pieces, dice the onion and add all the ingredients and the curry powder, chilli, and enough chicken stock to cover to the targine. Stir around cover with the lid and cook in the oven at 175°C for 2 1/2 hours or until the liquid has reduced and the curry has come together. Serve with flat bread.

flat bread

ingredients:1 cup plain flour,1 cup natural yoghurt,pinch of salt,1 teaspoon baking powder,extra flour for rolling,olive oil for cooking, sea salt for seasoning

method: combine all ingredients into a bowl and bring together to form a dough. Then turn the dough out onto a clean surface lightly dusted with flour and knead into a ball. Cut small handfuls of the dough and then shape into a small round disk, lightly flour rolling-pin then roll out the dough into a thin consistency. Layer the dough between sheets of baking paper while you continue rolling out the remaining mixture. Heat a heavy base flat pan with a little olive oil, cook the dough one sheet at a time, adding a little extra drizzle of olive oil and sprinkle with sea salt, cook both sides to a light golden brown. Once cooked set aside, and continue cooking the remaining bread.

a moment of grace

a moment of grace.

a moment of grace

We gathered again on Christmas Eve as we always do with other families at my mums oldest, dearest, friends house. This year was different. This year, we were all here, with the children a year older and happy to reintroduce themselves to each other and the same faces we see only once a year and yet have become so familiar with. We were all here, in the absence of her. It has been less than a year, since she left us, we weren’t really certain if this wonderful tradition would continue, it has been going on for over thirty years. This celebration has always been about the children, the generations that it began with, now belongs to their children. It has been a sad year for this family, sad for my mum. On this night, we all paused, we took a breath from our own lives and it was there that the magic happened, there was a moment of grace for us all. We played, we laughed, we talked, we let go and smiled. There was a new baby to add to the generation, and the babies of last year were all toddlers now, and instant friends. Georgia, our littlest had a special attentiveness towards my mums friends husband. This was a recognisable hard moment for him, this had been his wife’s celebration, this was now, his gift to her. Georgia, in all of her young wise years, I’m certain knew this to be true. Her focus was on him. We watched in wonderment as she assertively bossed him around, ordering and leading him here and there, keeping him present, keeping him from falling down in his grief, that on a night like this would have been all too easy to do. With bubbles, and smiles and angel wings on her tiny shoulders, we all remembered and vowed to come again next year.

honouring a year past..

This year has been a hard one for our family, big changes came with big challenges, much of which we are still unfolding. My girls sometimes worry that we are unique in the current unrest of our home, that the waves of emotions and truthful uncertainties are not something that is felt within the homes of their friends families. The truth is, it is more likely closer to what is real than the idea of ‘happily ever after’ is in many ways. We are forever unfolding and growing into ourselves and if we get too caught up in things that don’t matter for long enough, we can lose sight of what truly does, even with the ones we love the most. It is important for them not to be too sheltered from life’s pains. If we protect and hide what is real, what is raw and true, we teach them to only know life as an all encompassing wonderful. And life is wonderful but it can also be equally devastating and no one is immune to feeling some sort of devastation at some time in their lives. We need our children to be aware of this, we need to them to grow with resilience, so when life imposes hard challenges upon them, they will know that it is alright to hit the ground. It is alright to feel hard pain. It isn’t a sign of a weakness or a betrayal of a story that they have been living, there is no shame, no need to hide or mask what is real for them in that moment. They need to understand that life moves around and around, and the hardest of moments will pass, we will circle up again. Staying true takes bravery. Staying true, doesn’t always mean that there is an absence of love. Love can be very present and it’s a difficult challenge to go on loving another without an idea of what the story is really meant to look like. Life and love are messy, children do complicate relationships, it takes a deep kind of honesty to be able to understand and often admit such inclinations. I would rather my children know that they wont be saved from never feeling pain in their relationships, that having children will challenge them in ways that they could never imagine. Parenting, is tricky. Autism is a blessing and a heartache. There is subtleties, that only you as a parent can recognise, the struggles and misunderstandings, confusions and frustrations. It’s almost impossible to completely understand, and as a parent you carry a certain kind of worry that is unique only to them. These honest challenges have put a strain on our family, and we are all still trying to find our grounding. I am hopeful that we are on our way up again. I have let go of any ideas of what I thought we were meant to be and are allowing life to honour us with what we are instead. I have surrendered, and relaxed into the truth and I know happiness will flow through our doors once again, sometime soon. This past year we have shared many, many tears and have experienced more than our fair share of temper tantrums from toddlers, teenagers and an overloaded mother. But as a family we have triumphed life with our spirits, love and acceptance of what is. In all our uncertainties that we have been presented with, we are settled in the knowing that we are a strong tribe and we will be alright, no matter what life bestows upon us next.

creative endeavours and healing

I have been slowing down, sifting through, and clearing out on purpose. Life has presented me with an abundance of challenges over the past few months, with children, family, finances and grand life decisions. I keep reassuring myself there is no wrong here, just different paths to take, i keep reminding myself that i am only one person, and all will be well. Friends are important right now, at least one in particular. I think without this friend, my challenges would have been inevitably harder. She has been my breath when i have found it impossible to breathe, she is the one who listens as worlds fall apart, makes the tea and wipes away the endless tears without trying to change or move me into feeling better. She is alright sitting beside the hurts knowing only too well that they must be felt and really is powerless to change them anyway. It is with this hand, of this friend, that things are able to rise to the surface and be felt at the very depths that they require, without holding them in judgment or with regret. It is with this, that things are ever so slowing changing form, making room for new ideas, new beginnings, creating space, honouring growth. She is the one who reminds me to be more gentle with myself, to nurture my soul and more importantly forgiving myself for the minor infractions I so harshly hold myself accountable for. She reminds me that All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

listening to.. Ludovico Einaudi, In a time lapse

This is borrowed from a little french blog, recently discovered and im enjoying her work, her truthfulness is refreshing. She says, ‘If music be the food of love, play on’ I tend to agree, thank you Sabrina @tombstoneblues16 This comes at the most welcomed of timing

pausing

I have paused. for a moment. Bringing my children in close. Deciding what matters and where to go from here. Nothing seems to be clear. There doesn’t seem to be anything I should be doing differently. My children are all needing me in different ways. It is hard to find the balance and stretch myself enough for them. Trying to protect them from hurts but wary that some pains are what we are here to go through. They are what will essentially move us in the end. I need my children to know that life is hard most of the time. That it needs to flow up and down, that is the balance. We can’t get caught up in an idea that everything can always be perfect or pretty. The truth is, most of the time it’s not. But we keep striving for this idealism even when we know it’s most likely unattainable. The teenage years are hard, trying to find where they fit into the world, into the family, but mostly fitting in with themselves. I think I am a better mother to babies, they make more sence to me. I struggle as a mother to teenagers. It is a time when it feels as though so much is out of control, for us all. We try so hard to connect with each other but end up missing the mark most of the time. It’s a time when, as a mother I am having to take a deep breath and step back, and trust that somehow they will find their way, and their way back.

what if..

what if..this is it, never anymore or any less than the way things are right now, can you be alright with that?

what if..It was never meant to be the ‘everything’ it was always only meant to be life, unfolding into itself.

..there is a possibility that we already are the ‘everything’ we search for. What if it was never life’s intention that we reach that place of absolute completeness in our essential being.

What if, we already are ‘that’ essential being and ‘the all’ that it encompasses and instead we find ourselves momentarily pausing from our true essence to feel and be in this life for a while. What if the only way we are to really know ourselves is by having access to the all that we are not as well.

Is it possible, that we are meant to feel the magnitude of life’s pain and devastations, joy and blessings, truths and untruths, loves and losses, beginnings and endings..What if at some time, some place we chose this plan, we decided upon this story for reasons that may not always be clear in the process as it is unfolding.

Is it possible that we simply have forgotten what we have decided?

What if, it doesn’t really matter which direction you take. Can you for a moment consider that there are really no wrongs here just different choices and paths, does this alter your perception on things a little?

What if, today, tomorrow, yesterday you are and have always been complete. That really you are just moving through life experiencing your ‘self’ in many shades much the same as every one else. Maybe if we really understood this, we wouldn’t find it necessary to be so hard on ourselves or each other. Maybe we could forgive more easily.

What if, we decide it is enough. What we have in this life, the story we are living, the people we love the ones we care for, the way we move though our days, accepting equally our wonderous gifts and our misgivings, our faithful promises and failures to keep them, honouring ourselves when things are good and even more so in harder times.

What if, acceptance is what is needed, acceptance of all that is and all that will be, is it possible that happiness and contentment can still be found here?