What Price Progress?

Charcoal clouds backlit with bright white, mirroring the white sea foam as they roll towards the tawny sand strewn with shredded seaweed. The breeze – nursed into the coast by the rolling waves and pushed along by the stormy front – carries with it a burst of freshness tinged with a hint of sea salt.

A long slow sip on my warm creamy coffee, a deep breath of fresh sea air, and I feel my senses begin to awaken. Finally, a reward for the unexpected early start to the day, after navigating the morning traffic for the past hour. The dull roar of the ocean is a calming natural white noise. My mind begins to wander… my head in the ominous black clouds, and my toes in the fine wet sand.

As we sit on the park bench, my son searches the area for “virtual” Pokémon characters, while my imagination leads me into the dark depths beneath the crashing waves, exploring the watery wilderness and wondering what I might encounter.

A bone-rattling, jangling, hammering noise forces its way into my daydream with a jarring reality. My son is yanked out of his Pokémon world with equal brutality. Just to the left of our line of sight (thankfully) is the partial demolition of a dated red brick building. The renovation work stripping away the character of past decades to be “modernised“ with the slick neutrality – some might say mediocrity – that is sold to the self-professed “discerning” market of today, hungry for nothing more than “Location. Location. Location”!

As each salt-encrusted, rusty coloured brick disappears, so too does the warmth of decades’ past summers. The echoes of 80s disco music released from the walls to wander with the ocean winds. The daydreams of countless surf obsessed souls set adrift on the dust trailing into the air.

The workmen break for morning tea and that strangely calming roar of the ocean returns, we look at each other with a sigh of relief… My young son (with an old soul and a love of architecture), and myself with a sentimental death-grip on fond memories… sitting side-by-side and both – in our own way – wondering “what price progress?”

Drabble – Into The Dawn

Wisps of eerie mist rise from dampened earth. Hooves thud upon it with rhythmic urgency. Droplets moisten my face as it cuts through the heavy air of pre-dawn.

I move as one with the equine being. Hair streaming behind, a shining blonde mane. Adrenaline surging, I lurch toward the glimmering gold horizon.

A glance behind, darkness pursues like a sinister beast.

What am I fleeing from? What am I drawn to?

Raucous birdsong jolts my being.

With eyes open wide, heart pounding and beads of sweat upon my forehead, I glance furtively to the right… The alarm shatters my slumber!

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A “drabble” (also known as a “100 word story”), is a short work of fiction, exactly one hundred words in length.

This is my first ever attempt, and I had so much fun!

I would love your feedback… Did I take you there? Were you in the moment? When your morning alarm has gone off, have you been there too? 😊

A Sip of Springtime.

The alarm jangled its way into my dreams this morning, but it didn’t seem quite so difficult to drag myself out of bed. The rising sun peeks over the horizon and creeps across my windowsill a little earlier these days.

Kookaburras share an early morning joke as I brew a coffee. I wonder if they are laughing at me fumbling about the kitchen.

As I sink into my comfy old chair, my face tilted upwards toward an almost Ceylon Sapphire blue sky, I find myself daydreaming of seagrass rippling in the current, as the breeze ripples through the gum leaves in shimmering waves. It trickles across my skin, cooling the warm blush from the sunshine as it climbs higher into the morning.

What is it about the change of season? The cooler tones of winter imperceptibly – but almost suddenly – transform into the more vivid, fresh, bright colours of spring. As beautiful and stark as winter can be, there is something uplifting about that touch of warmth as it encourages the birds to sing a little louder and longer, as it draws us out from under the blankets into the fresh air a little earlier.

I take a long, slow, deliberate breath inwards. The aroma of fresh coffee is tinged with the floral notes of spring time. I feel energised and relaxed, all at once. A change of pace, a change of routine and a change of season.

Pick Up The Phone, Dial That Number.

Sombre grey skies and fine misty rain silenced the birdsong this morning, until a fresh cool breeze quickly whipped away the clouds and dried off the droplets.

Bright sunshine has broken through and warms my face. A fresh cup of coffee warms my body, as thoughts of friends warm the heart.

We are never alone. Old friends and new, absent friends, beloved family members, or a special someone who cannot always be near. That person may not be there when you reach out to touch them, but the connection is real and enduring, regardless of physical distance.

When it comes to refreshing and maintaining connection, technology – which we sometimes regard as a curse – is a real blessing. Past generations had to wait patiently for the post, for that handwritten letter to arrive. Now, all we need to do is reach for the phone to feel the comfort of their voice, or even see warmth of their smile.

A simple message can let someone know you’re thinking of them, but as a special friend often reminds me, there is nothing like taking a moment, dialling a number and hearing their voice.

Too many of us – myself included – take the easy option when we are busy, by sending a text. We know what we mean, but went sent in a rush will the recipient always read the same? The written word maybe concise and to the point, but the intended kindness might not always be conveyed.

Pick up the phone, dial the number and spend the five minutes you would have composing a text, to reconnect with a friend. It will be well worth the effort!

Too Many Minds

A busy day at work, a rush to change, and then a brisk walk to the dojo.

Opening the door into the small hall with plain walls and a smooth clean floor of pale wooden planks, was like opening a door into another, much simpler, world.

Sensei – his long thick steely grey hair held neatly back from his face – would greet us warmly. Laugh lines around his dark eyes softening his expression, as his manner became serious and we all knelt in a row on the floor before him. Our crisp white karate gi almost crunching as it folded with the movement of our bodies.

Before reciting our dojo kun – a set of rules to be followed in our training hall, and to guide us in life – he would quietly request that we empty our minds in order to gain the most from our training, both physically and spiritually.

Upon rising to our feet, we would breathe deeply and begin our rigourous training.

There were occasions when our focus would falter. We might misjudge our blocking move in anticipation of a strike, resulting in a painful reminder of the importance of being “present” in the moment.

Sensei Endo-San, a man for whom I have great respect and hold in high esteem, would approach us and place his hand gently on our arm while looking directly into our eyes, then quietly say… “Too many minds”.

These three simple words, in the many years since I have seen him, have often echoed in my thoughts.

Whenever I sit down to write yet another lengthy “to do“ list, trying to fight off the sense of overwhelm that accompanies “too many minds”, I remind myself to “empty my mind” and focus my thoughts… The task at hand becomes much clearer. The sense of overwhelm begins to dissipate. It is easier to focus on the important and anticipate the best course of action.

Do you sometimes find yourself with “too many minds“?

Reality Check.

A gloomy all enveloping blanket of grey greets my upward gaze. I recall the fleeting conversation I had earlier this morning, suddenly realising that it is symptomatic of the human condition to experience envy – to imagine that the “grass is always greener on the other side”… But is it?

Locally, we exclaim frustration about the seemingly endless drizzle dumped upon us by “La Niña“, while in the northerly, typically tropical region of our country someone else is complaining of their “El Nino“ weather pattern causing an unseasonal dry spell.

I wish for a little sunshine to get rid of the dampness, whereas only ‘a stone’s throw’ down the track, others are still cleaning silt from every nook and cranny of their flooded homes!… Reality check!

I enjoy the comfort of having my own space to live and thrive, while others struggle to eke out a living, or an endangered animal is hunted and killed in its own habitat… Reality check!

I can’t help my feelings, and it is my right to complain (without inflicting it upon others), but for those of us lucky enough to have time to pause and think – and I very much appreciate the fact that I am one of them – that another symptom of the human condition is compassion. A quality we should all practice a little more, because not far away, there is someone likely to very understandably and justifiably think our “grass is greener”.

So as I sip and muse today, I might wish for a shard of sunshine and hope for a glimmer of blue, but I will also pause to be thankful for the people I have in my life. I will be inspired by those who take action to improve the life of those less fortunate, by those who fight for the plight of the endangered.

I will give myself a gentle mental nudge as a reminder to appreciate what I have in my here and now, and that perhaps the grass is not always greener somewhere else.

Flip the perspective (add a shimmer of sunshine) and the grass looks pretty green!

From HIIT Session, To Hard Hit.

I sit this morning, clutching my freshly made and steaming hot coffee for warmth, as I gaze out at the leaden grey sky enveloping my little piece of the world. Droplets of water wind their way down through the specks of dust welded to my windscreen. The children were a little reluctant to step out from the coziness of the car into the cool damp day. A day in stark contrast to that of not so long ago when I energetically stepped out for my second HIIT session…

The sun was shining brightly, but still retained the freshness of early morning. I inhaled slowly and deeply as I began walking to warm up, preparing my mind and body for what I reasonably expected would be an alternating experience of easy… Hard… Easy… Hard… Easy… Hard… Easy… Done!

The landscape was gently undulating, the surface a relatively smooth black tar road winding through bush alongside a country creek. I wasn’t wearing the most suitable shoes for the session, but given the fine conditions and obstacle free surface, what could go wrong?!

I picked up the pace and began my first set of higher intensity running, pushing until the timer gave me permission to slow down again to recover ready for “round two“… Easy, hard, easy.

I had barely regained my breath when the shrill sound of the timer screamed at me to speed up again. Still recovering from my first HIIT session, my somewhat sluggish muscles struggled to keep up the pace, but I pushed on as the gradient of the road fell slightly in my favour and gravity gave me a little more speed with no extra effort. “A walk in the park“ I thought smugly to myself.

As my right foot struck the barely-downward-slope of the surface, the ever so slightly increased impact put an almost imperceptible jolt through my struggling-to-get-fit body. I felt a painless “pop“ at the base of my right buttock and my leg suddenly stopped functioning, but my left enthusiastically continued to catapult me forward… Easy, hard, easy, hard… Splat!!!

My body parts struck the solid black surface in rapid succession – first the small embedded pebbles gouged my knees as my elbows and palms were thrust forward colliding with the ground in a vain effort to protect my upper body. Although, thankfully my face did not impact too harshly, my teeth thought my lips would provide some cushioning.

The slow motion spectacular – in my mind’s eye – concluded gracefully with my face to the ground and my back arching, my toes attempting to tap gently on the back of my head, in what I think skateboarders and the like might describe as a “scorpion“ pose.

The dust settled, my body relaxed back onto the ground and I paused for a moment, not actually sure I was still all in one piece. Slowly I lifted my limbs and managed to get upright. I glanced around, furtively hoping that no one had witnessed my clumsy humiliation.

As I took my first step I realised that the popping sensation was in fact my hamstring tearing, and it was beginning to hurt! I had no choice but to hobble back to my car (which I am sure was a lot further away than I first remember parking it) to slink home with my tail between my legs, nursing the pain of my wounds, and temporary defeat.

In the time that has passed since, I have recovered well but am not yet quite up to running. The recent rainy weather has provided some extra recovery time and I’m now looking forward to the opportunity – and a break in the weather – to both regain my dignity and a semblance of fitness.

I guess it will be literally always “one foot in front of the other” on the journey to health and vitality.

Have you encountered an unexpected and unseen obstacle on your journey?

Nothing like that first H I I T!

Not so long ago, I completed my first ever HIIT session, and wow!…

It was easy… Hard… Easy… Hard… Easy… Hard… Easy… Done!

I was surprised at how “easy” it was to achieve. I simply incorporated it into my regular morning walk. The first five minutes was at normal walking pace to warmup, then 10 seconds of running hard and 50 seconds back to walking pace. Repeat three times and finish my morning walk as usual – Job done!

How would I describe it? Great! With the regular “breaks“, I could still enjoy the sunny warmth of the morning, I could still inhale the heady scent of seasonal blooms as they sent out their almost-impossible-to-resist invitations to the bees. In fact, I could hear them buzzing in a chorus of delighted response.

How did I feel after my first HIIT?

Well, after I recovered from the muscles burning in my suddenly leaden legs, and the aching of my chest as I gasped for breath. As the sweat dampening my back started to evaporate, and my craving for a cool drink grew… I realised what I actually felt was elation!

I had a silly smile (at nobody in particular) on my face and thought – although this is only day one – my first HIIT was absolutely worth it! I can understand how some people get really addicted to their High Intensity Interval Training.

Day two… well that’s another story altogether! A funny/not so funny story which I might work up the courage to tell next time… ☕️😊

Do a Little, Rest a Little.

I recently spoke of the rhythm of life. Of how there is always that easy backbeat, with the occasional riff. I also mentioned that sometimes the backbeat can fall out of sync with life.

Well, this is one of those times where that rhythm skipped a beat, lurched forward and then fell in a heap! An unwelcome riff interjected, jarring against the faltering backbeat.

COVID-19 has finally reared its ugly head. Our family now knows what so many countless others have experienced before us.

We are a relatively healthy family. Perhaps that coupled with the fact that we are all at least twice vaccinated, seems to have held us in good stead. Perhaps general immunity levels and the evolution of the virus has seen it lose some of its “sting”.

We have been affected in varying degrees, with barely a sniffle for some, common cold symptoms for others, to a nasty flu type illness with a lingering cough and fatigue. Thankfully, for us that seems to be the worst of it – the story has been far different for many others.

Like the weather lately, my clarity and outlook transitions from bright and clear to cloudy and a little grey. One minute my thoughts are stagnating, and then the next, a free flow of ideas.

The rhythm of my life is finding its feet again, but for now it has also become a post-Covid mantra… Do a little, rest a little, do a little, rest a little.

Do you have a post-Covid mantra?

Live the Rhythm, Love the Riff!

A great song will always have a great rhythm – it’s okay to mix it up by adding in a great riff – but it won’t come together without that rhythm.

Life is a bit like a song, as much as some of us live for and thrive on that memorable highlight – that great riff – we all need the everyday backbeat to hold it together.

Just imagine you are out on an open road in the country; sapphire blue sky overhead, cruising along a corridor of charcoal grey tarmac, flanked by deep green trees on either side. An easy beat plays in the background. Suddenly the speakers start thumping out some heavy metal. The electric guitar starts to scream, and you can’t help yourself, you just have to wind down that window, press a little harder on the accelerator and belt out a few of the lyrics along with it. The wind snatches them from your mouth and they disappear into the emerald blur whizzing by.

It doesn’t matter that your audience consists only of the startled birds perched on nearby branches, it’s still feels great… Exhilarating!

Soon enough, the music has quietened. Your pulse and your pace slows as the easy rhythm returns. You relax back into your seat, continuing on toward your final destination.

Every now and then that backbeat loses its rhythm. An extended holiday or break from work, the leap from primary (or elementary) school to high school, a shift in career expectations or goals… even a pandemic! That verse in the song of life might falter, there might be a few bars you would rather forget. It might even include a great riff. But keep your feet on the ground and you’ll find that rhythm again… Ready for the next verse in the song of life.

I love a rhythm with a touch of country – a routine with a touch of family. I also love to mix it up a bit… And you can’t beat a great riff from the master himself, AC/DC’s Angus Young!

There is nothing like a great soundtrack to enhance the spice of life.

My rhythm faltered for a while, and so did my musings, but with a few bars I’d rather forget and a great riff or two, the backbeat has returned and so have my Morning Coffee Musings 🎶