June Review: Half Way!

Planted: nothing, too cold and running out of room!

Wrote: learning stories, two portfolio reflections, chapters for the book, a blog entry

Discovered/ learnt/ wondered: passive sentence structures; i tuhia e Tiffany… and memorised the ara reo Māori karakia

Successes: cracked 10 kilos lost this year, total of over 27 kilos in two years

Struggled with: not reaching goal weight by the six month mark. SO close! Serious seasonal fitness plateau.

Highlight: Paul’s birthday

Six months down, six months to go! So far, all in all, I’ve achieved everything I’ve set out to do. The only thing that hasn’t happened are the rewards I put down in the plan, but they were the only things that had conditions attached, anyway. I’ve read books and written prolifically and done a bunch of physical challenges. I can count on one hand the number of weeks I didn’t reach my stepping goals, but since I exceed step goals most days it all balances out in the end!

This month’s goal was walking up St. John’s Hill and down again. I made this goal because June is (usually) when the cold weather really starts to kick in, and it’s also when I start getting busy with work for next wedding season. I needed an activity that was manageable with dodgy weather and didn’t take up much time, but was still a good challenge.
Well, I managed to fit these trips up the hill three times a week in to a busy schedule in between rain showers, but I did fail with one aspect. It wasn’t the challenge I was expecting it to be! It was a pleasure to find out that I might be physically fitter than I think I am. So what was meant to be a twenty minute cardio burst of exercise a few times a week after a gym session, came to be a leisurely fifteen minute stroll which I used to admire the way the trees were changing and the unique view of my town. Different but equally important rewards. If nothing else, it proved to me that the past six months, at least, has been good for me.

So I stand by what I wrote in my last blog, I’m finding winter really hard. It seems to be affecting everything, from how much I exercise to what I eat to how I want to interact with the world. But I’m half way and have achieved pretty much every goal. July brings me a squat challenge that I’ve done before and know I can achieve. August brings me a book. How hard can the rest of the year be? The weather will start to get warmer soon, and I will keep reminding myself that the way I feel right now is as much environmental as it is emotional and physical. This is the beginning of the downward slope, leading me right to the finish line!

May Review: Old, Cold habits.

Planted: kale, salad mix, cauli and cabbage (again!) Kohlrabi(?!?), and harvested the beetroot! Ermergerhd delicious!

Wrote: lots of learning stories, portfolio reflections, two book chapters, A picture book in Te Reo Māori.

Discovered/ learnt/ wondered: learnt how to play poker using only te reo Māori – “kei hia ngā kāri māu?” (how many cards do you want?) And “kei a Vinnie te ringa toa! Ka mau te wehi!” (Vinnie has the winning hand! Awesome!), how to play many of the songs I’ve learnt from course as well as “This Ukulele” on the uke.

Read: some love letters written to and from people at war, mainly in France, Turkey, and Russia in WWI and II.

Successes: hmmm. Can’t think of anything super spectacular right now.

Struggled with: can I say everything? Reaching step goals, sticking to a food plan, getting in enough exercise, sleep, achieving work commitments, drinking enough water… the list feels endless!

Highlight: my friend’s exhibition at another friend’s gallery, drinking wine for the first time in more than three years, and dinner with loved ones afterwards – all in one night!; Alice starting day care and climbing a tree; one of chicken’s laying eggs again.

Woe betide me! May got harder and harder as the days passed. It was literally the hard slog of the last steps up the steepest part of the hill to get to the top, the halfway point of the journey, before the equal distance back down. That’s right, we are half way through the year, I’m half way through my plan, and May has been Hump Month. May was the Wednesday of my year. And May was the shittiest time in this plan so far.

I don’t even know why this is, not on the face of it. Nothing has really changed in my world, and even May’s goals weren’t that taxing. It was just really, stupidly hard. I feel like I’ve just lost the drive, the motivation to keep on task and keep pushing, the will to make myself and my world brighter. It would just be easier to curl up with a bag of chips, call in sick, and watch TV.

And then I need to remember that, as experience had taught me, I get seasonal depression. I’m not even kidding. Every winter I get lethargic, moody, the food I crave changes to salty or sweet comfort food, and the melancholy I can feel sometimes is overwhelming. I usually get to October when I really start to think, ‘what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy?’ But then the weather warms and the sun comes out and my personality opens up again like a spring flower.

How things are different this year, though, is that I’ve not known pressure like this before. Work and study and side-jobs and serious sleep issues and PARENTING means I spend the majority of my time in some degree of exhaustion, and the only comfort is knowing that pretty much every other parents out there is dealing with their own degree of exhaustion and can totally relate.
But do you know what this pressure and exhaustion do to me? Lethargy. Moodiness. Cravings.

I have seasonal depression before winter has even begun.
As May got colder my urge to hibernate has grown in kind. And I have three months of this ahead of me. This is why May got harder and harder, day by day. Because the change in temperature was so drastic and my relatively fragile sense of self and health has responded accordingly. This is all dawning on me as I write this, as I sit on the couch under our fluffiest blanket, tea nearby, the grey, damp sky playing vista through my window. Mocking me.

I’m scared, for the first time, I’m going to give up. Not fail in my efforts, but that I’m not even going to try. I’m scared I’m going to decide that it takes so much effort and time and energy to do it, so why bother?

I can’t though. I can’t let myself. The good thing about seasonal depression is that there is an end in sight. And what then? When I feel more like myself, how can I look back at my past actions and feel okay about choosing not to do something that is so important to me, simply because I couldn’t be bothered?

Unacceptable.

So. My action plan will be:
Vitamin D suppliments, see if that helps.
Get outside on sunny days and remember that, while this seasonal slump is caused by a hormonal reaction to the environment, I can create other hormonal reactions myself. Bring on the endorphins!
Talk. Talk to someone or to the page. Because seasonal depression is real, Wikipedia said so, and even if it’s not what I feel is real and that’s enough.

June brings me a trip up a fairly decent hill in my town twice a week and, towards the end, a half-way point evaluation. I’m one kilo off my initial goal weight, so I’m planning on making it a good one.

Please let it be a good one!

Reward Time! The Gorge Walk

On Monday April 25, I kind of fulfilled the reward for completing the Durie Hill step challenge; the ten kilometre walk by the Manawatu Gorge. It was amazing and hard and totally something I can’t wait to do again! I say ‘kind of fufilled’ because we didn’t actually walk the entire track from one end to the other; the weather turned the higher we got so, instead of walking through the more exposed end, we walked to the half way point and made our way back through the well-covered track. Next time, we’ll start at the other end and go the whole way!

What made this day even more awesome was, when we met Alice and Paul’s parents at the Herb Farm for lunch, Alice took us through their little piece of paradise and delighted in the trees herself, along with all their hidden magic. How wonderful for me to see the things I hold dear blossoming in her.

Anywho, its part of the plan to write about what I heard during that walk. It’s been over a year since I wrote a poem (gone are the days when I’d write one a day!), so I’ve given it a go!

The Sound of the Gorge

Our walk began right by the highway,
With the drop of the gorge to the left.
I couldn’t hear much to begin with because
The noise of the road made me deaf!

But soon we were surrounded by greenery,
And the peace settled in like a cloud.
As we walked, the noise of the road died away
And the noise of the forest grew loud.

The first steps were magic and mystical,
As if fairies lived up in the trees.
I heard water running from the side of the hill
And dance over the rocks of a stream.

Overhead was a rooftop of branches,
holding homes of the birds we could hear.
At first I could take all this sweet beauty in
But soon, I was faced with my fear.

The first part of our walk was entirely uphill
Which we walked without one little break.
These hills and steps made my throat catch my breath,
And my legs had started to ache.

Will I make it?

The loudest thing I heard that morning
After an hour or so on the track
Was the voice in my head that was egging me on;
‘Keep going, you must not turn back.’

We trudged through the trees on the trail
To the beat of the softly-sung bird.
But when we’d climbed to the top above tree and cloud
My breathless ‘Oh, wow,’ could be heard.

The noise died away to a whisper,
The birdsong became but a dream.
My mind’s voice went quiet and my legs stopped their screech;
I stopped listening and started to see.

There were hills stretching to the horizon,
with a blanket of soft, chilly mist.
I took it all in and then turned, with a grin,
To Paul, who gave me a kiss.
It was bliss.
Aww.

After five khs we skipped down the trail,
Enjoying the delightful down-slope.
I heard Paul’s plans for the landscape at home,
and my legs telling me that they’ll cope.

In three hours we hit the wall of noise;
The car engines cutting through trees.
I heard trees in the wind and a train and my breath,
I listened to birds, to Paul, and to me.

I'm having an affair.

I’m having a love affair. I’ve tried to deny it, to hide it, to pretend that it’s not becoming an obsession and that I could stop, if I wanted to, but it’s time to get real.

I’m having a love affair. With Walking. I’m cheating on writing and on lunch breaks and even on my beloved gym, just so I can spend time with Walking. I’m finding time to sneak away with Walking, time where I thought there was none before. One of my trysts with Walking nearly even made me late for work, and I don’t think Walking is a good enough excuse for tardiness. Worse still, I’m not even sorry that Walking is beginning to take over the small corners of my life.

Okay, I’m being ridiculous. Or am I? For those who have had the pleasure (and sheer terror) of a love affair, or the head-over-heels love-at-first-sight relationship like I found with Paul, you know that when that person comes in to your life, you not only find time to see them, you MAKE time. Things get pushed to the side or sacrificed or dropped all together. There may be late nights or feverish lunch breaks where you race against time. You make excuses. I’m doing this with walking, and it feels glorious!

The idea of having a love affair with something, not someone, isn’t new, and I’m not talking about an addiction here. I read about it in Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. She urges her readers to have love affairs with their art, their passions, or their creative outlets. I’m paraphrasing here, but I’m pretty sure she told me, through her book, to hide in an alleyway and write as much as I could before someone caught me. There is excitement there, and pure, (un)adulterated joy. And maybe even a sense of release in spite of it all. Because this is what creating and expression and passion is all about, isn’t it?

So of course, Writing is my passion. Except she is a very high maintenance lover. She’s so fickle and temperamental; much like me really, ha ha! And so I book time for Writing. I invite inspiration in to get Writing in the mood, and we always have a lovely time together.

Walking, though, Walking is a keen bean and on speed dial! Walking whispers in my ear, ‘You’ve got ten minutes until your next meeting, let’s get busy and wander around the block.’ Walking quotes The Beatles lyrics to me, things like ‘Why don’t we do it in the road?’ and ‘Won’t you come out to play?’ Walking doesn’t care how much time we spend together or how much attention I pay to it, Walking just wants to get a fix. AND! Where Writing is a pure monogamist, Walking is up for a threesome! Luckily Paul’s into that, too, so I get to share this love affair with my real life one true love!

Are you having a love affair with a thing? With running or painting or scrapbooking or singing or something as equally awesome? Do it! It’s hilarious as well as an awesome motivation. Tell people you’re busy, you’re meeting your lover. And then enjoy every minute of you precious time together.

Graduation: Hui Whakapumau

It was part of The Plan to acknowledge my graduation for the reo Māori course with a piece of writing about the day. It’s been nearly a week and I’ve been putting it off; it’s been a real struggle to think how to write about this special occasion. Do I make it like a diary entry, or in the third person, like a narrative? I thought about focusing on how I felt and spinning the day in to a poem, laced together with thin threads of whimsy and rhyme. But none of it felt right. I want everything in the plan to be purposeful and packed with meaning, and this piece of writing is no exception. I just didn’t know how to go about it.

And then I realised. It’s hard to do not because of how I write, but how I speak. How am I meant to share my experiences in English about something that is fundamentally rooted in reo Māori? Deciding to write about graduation in reo Māori gave this piece of writing purpose. What I want to say wasn’t going to change but all of a sudden, this potential piece of writing had become one of the most meaningful things I’d ever put together.

Please, you fluent speakers of reo, bear in mind that the following collection of sentences haven’t been checked by someone more knowledgeable than me; a novice, a beginner, very much still a student – quite literally. However inaccurate this is, the mistakes and intentions and effort behind these kupu are a testament to the course and what I’ve been taught, as well as a window to what I want to achieve.

Ko Ruapehu tōku maunga,
ko Whanganui tōku awa,
ko Berwick Castle tōku waka,
Ko Wagastaf tōku hapū,
No Turakina ahau.

Whakamutunga tau, ko I te ākonga o te Ara Reo Māori taumata e rua.

Last year, I was a student of te Ara Reo Māori level two.

I ako ahau ki te reo māori, kātahi i mahi ahau ki ngā kupu hou, ā muri i tērā, i ako etahi atu ahau.

I learnt te reo Māori, and then I studied the new words, and after that, I learned some more.

I tākaro ahau i ngā kēmu, i waiata ahau ki ngā waiata, me i tuhituhi ahau i ngā kōrero me ngā kupu hou.

I played games, I sang songs, and I wrote the language and new words.

I inoi ahau.

I prayed.

I tēnei ra, i paetahi ahau! Ko ataahua te hui whakapūmau. I tino hiamo ngā tauira rāua ngā kaiako tātou.

Today, I graduated! The graduation ceremony was beautiful. All the students and teachers were very excited.

Engari, i te āwangawanga ahau ki ngā hu haunene I runga I te atamira!

But I was worried about my noisy shoes on the stage!

I haere ahau I runga I te atamira me i whakakikini ahau ki a Paul. I whakarongo ahau i te waiata o Alice.

I walked on the stage and winked at Paul. I heard Alice singing.

I angitu ahau, i whakahīhī ahau, i harikoa ahau.

I felt successful, I felt proud, I felt happy.

Engari, kua mutu taku kōrero mō tēnei wā, nō reira, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou, tēnā koutou katoa.

However, this is the end of my talk for now, therefore, greetings, greetings, greetings to you all.

March Review - Winning!

Planted: stevia, kale, rhubarb

Wrote:two weddings, book chapters

Discovered/ learnt/ wondered: learnt about Patupaiarehe and how to say things like ‘I’m not reading the newspaper’ in Te Reo; Kāore pānui ahau I te niupepa!

Read: ‘Te Ao Māori’ by Rāpata Wiri; ‘Seeker’ by Arwen Elys Dayton

Successes: I pretty much rocked at life this month.

Struggled with: Animals eating/digging/ playing in the garden. Bye-bye cauli, kale and carrots! And those poor tomatoes, doomed from the start.

Highlight: starting Te Ara Reo Māori 4, winning a fitbit and a stack of books and a raffle filled with goodies I’d never buy for myself, family reunion

I don’t know if you believe in good vibrations in the universe or positive energy or visualisation or karma or luck, but all the wins were mine this month. I was a walking success machine. Boom! Hahaha!

Probably the coolest thing to have happened is that I kicked ass on those Durie Hill steps. Well, in my mind I did, when comparing myself now to myself four weeks ago. Do NOT compare myself to those powerhouses that run up and down those steps over and over again! I can go up without stopping in under six minutes. AND! I can go down without stopping under seven! This is HUGE! It’s a small victory against the foe that is my lifelong fear of heights and falling.

I won a whole heap of cool stuff this month, too! A fitbit (which is awesome for your health), cereal (which is terrible for your health), ten wicked good new books, and the Easter raffle from my hair salon filled with goodies.
And then I won stuff that I actually had to work for; stepping challenges, Te Reo vocab tests, and a variety of other small but joyous moments that I worked hard for.

I don’t know about you, but I feel this month has shown me that success attracts success. I don’t know if it’s just that you’re open to opportunity or if you’re inclined to focus on ‘winning’ more because it’s at the forefront of your thinking. Maybe it truly is a cosmic, octrune-coloured force that magnetises good vibes and happy people to you, globbing the awesome together in beautiful, ever-growing puddles of positivity. Whatever it is, I’m digging it.

I mastered hoola-hooping. I walked longer, more complicated distances. I figured out that coffee was keeping me awake and have increased my average sleep per night from three to five hours. I briefly hit my goal weight before a magical, guilt-free Easter. All in all, it’s been a freakin’ sweet month.

Next month, I’m taking it fairly easy on myself, with committing to the bridge loop twice a week and doing a teaching portfolio update. The challenge will be finding the time and not letting the commitments overwhelm me. I pick up another day at work which will force me to practice time-management; something I’ve never been overly fantastic at. Regardless, I’m looking forward to what April brings me; there’s graduation, birthdays, less financial stress and the Manawatu gorge loop walk. And if this month’s successes are anything to go by, April is going to be a goodun!

February Review: Balance

Planted: capsicum seedlings (from a capsicum!), cauli, onion, beetroot

Wrote: a wedding, a chapter for the book, two blogs, notes for te ara reo

Discovered/ learnt/ wondered: Alice is OLD now, the stairs aren’t that scary, how Audrey keeps getting out of the pen and into the garden without us knowing! Houdini goat!

Made: Tomato relish, nomnomnom

Successes: half an hour planking, 8 minutes of that in one day. Three more kilos gone for good.

Struggled with: exhaustion, illness

Highlight: beach trip on Valentines day and six hours sleep a night, three nights in a row! Bless you, Sleep Drops!

Well it took until February for my year to really get kicking – January afforded me a slow, leisurely ease-in to 2016. But now we’re in to the swing of things! This month has definitely been all about balance.

First off, planking. Balancing on my toes and elbows for longer and longer periods of time. No big deal, right? Holy heck in a tea-cup, that shit’s hard work! I’ve balanced ten centimetres above the ground for a combined total of half an hour this month, and boy I can feel it!
The planking helped me practice balance in another way, too. Paul and I were going to do the planking challenge, which would have had us do two minute planks by the end of week one and more than five minutes at the end of the month. The other kind of balance this challenge taught me was this; it really is okay to say 'no' to a dare. It’s good to realise that a little of something is great, but a lot can be damaging. It’s good to realise that the fad fitness regimes are not for everyone. And it’s good to realise that too much planking with an unprepared body will mess you up, son!

I also had to try hard to balance commitments. This isn’t new, by any means, and it’s not a struggle that only I’ve got. We all know the feeling of being pulled between our commitment to our families, our work, and our endeavour to retain some sense of personal stability. I feel like I’ve usually been pretty good at this – the problem is I’ve had to say no. A lot. Often to things I’d really like to do, too.
As February got busier, giving me a taste of the year to come, I’m reminded how important this is to me and that I mustn’t get caught up on the world’s demand on me to be fully, hopelessly, dangerously engaged. Priorities, I think this is called, and my top priority is a settled life for Alice. Not the plan, not the gym, not my renewed passion for work, but Alice.

I was also forced to take a really good look at the plan and remind myself that what I’m doing isn’t a diet – of food and weight loss and life in general – because a diet is temporary. This is fo’ life, yo! And if it’s for life, it’s going to have to take a back seat sometimes. I got sick this month and man alive I’ve been tired. Steps took a direct hit. But I had to tell myself this is okay – can you imagine how much it’d suck for everyone else if I was on my A-game all the time, blinding the world with my awesome? Lulls in life is for the greater good! Feeling sucky is all part of it, but if the plan is solid, if I’m solid in my intentions, I’ll pick it up where I left of;

So! Physical balance, personal balance, and balance in perspective! What a month!

March brings me the Durie hill steps, and the start of Te Ara Reo Maori level 4. A pessimistic version of myself may predict that the summary of next month will be ‘fear’. Oh dear! Watch this space…

Bullsh*t!!!

Last week a number of ladies at my gym took part in a little detox, where we all gave up one vice for a week. It was a near 50/50 split between alcohol and coffee, with a few anomalies thrown in. Mine was chocolate; I don’t eat it often but when I do, I’m a champion chocolate consumer. I chose chocolate because I’d just had a week of feeling super crappy, compounded by my cravings for all things rich and sweet – and edible, of course.
This detox was planned before I even walked in to the gym last Monday, but putting my name and chosen vice on the whiteboard with the other ladies gave me a little extra accountability.

A week on, I asked my coach how she did with the detox and she told me her story – a positive one for the most part but our conversation focused on one evening, one trigger, one moment where she ‘caved’. And she told me how interesting it was to hear the stories about other women, about how they depended on their vices more than they realised, when they struggled and when they had their vices without even realising.
It was during this conversation, and the conversation about how my coach succumbed to peer pressure, that I called ‘bullshit!’, quite literally, and discovered a hidden belief of mine that I realise I am quite passionate about.

The weight loss endeavour is surrounded with bullshit.

Weight loss and healthier living is quite simple in itself – eat wisely and move your body. But the reality is that anyone embarking on a weight loss journey quickly comes to realise that they spend the entire time dodging the bullshit that is flung at them from rabid life-monkeys and their success depends on how many times the bullshit hits the target.

I’d know, believe me. I’ve been dodging bullshit – or creating my own – my entire life. My journey started, I think, when I heard my first piece of memorable bullshit. A boy in my class told me, when I was eight, that I was so big I’d sink a boat. That was 20 years ago, and it still makes my heart sink even now (no pun intended). But it’s bullshit. It’s bullshit that he said it, it’s bullshit that I still let it affect me, and the statement is bullshit in its own right.

So some bullshit that arose out of the detox were habitual things like automatically eating a biscuit with a cup of tea. Bullshit. There was emotional things, like mine – I feel crappy and chocolate will make me feel better. Bullshit. And there were societal things, like being made to feel like crap because you weren’t having a drink with friends so choosing to forgo your detox goal just to shut them up. Mega bullshit.

The more I chatted with my coach, the more we realised it was all just bullshit. Bullshit I tells you! Habits and beliefs about how food makes us feel and triggers that we face, it’s all just made up bullshit we’ve been told to believe or created ourselves.

Well now, I’m calling bullshit. And I encourage you to do the same. There is nothing – NOTHING – stopping you from questioning the norm and doing the opposite if it’s better for you and doesn’t hurt anyone else. It may make people feel uncomfortable where society is concerned, but that’s their bullshit, not yours.
I’m going to make it my mission in life to recognise the bullshit that is harming The Plan and call bullshit – out loud if I have to. I’m going to talk to myself out loud, too; “This is bullshit, Tiffany. You want to lose another kilo more than you want to eat that.” Maybe I’ll say, “God, that picture is bullshit. Tiffany, why are you comparing your body to hers when you don’t have her budget, her lifestyle, or her Photoshop technician?” Mind games, for me anyway, are my way of dodging those bullshit missiles of life.

But don’t get me wrong, some bullshit can be helpful. Having trouble with portion control? Use a smaller dish and bullshit your brain in to thinking you’ve got a plateful of food. Harness your own ability to play mind games with yourself and adopt the mantra, more. Ten more squats. 100 more steps. One more glass of water. And screw it, one more bacon rasher, that shit’s delicious. I reckon, once you’ve opened your eyes to the bullshit that surrounds whatever it is you’re focusing on, you can harness the power of bullshit and use it as biofuel. That’ll piss those rabid, bullshit-flinging life-monkeys right off.

So to conclude, I thought I might make a list of common bullshit scenarios, and I invite you to add to it!

·         It is bullshit if, knowing you are trying to eat healthier, someone gives you cake/cookies/wine/illicit drugs to consume because they’d have it themselves if it’s in their house. Do what they should’ve done and give it to the chickens, find a family in need, or chuck it. It’s a trigger, and it’s bullshit.

·         It is bullshit for anyone to tell you that what they want you to do is more important than a goal, or that you can relax your goal ‘just this once’. Call BULLSHIT right in their well-meaning face and explain your situation.

·         It is bullshit to make food responsible for your emotions. Poor sugar didn’t do anything wrong other than exist, it doesn’t know what’d going on.

·         It is bullshit to beat yourself up when you stumble but not pamper yourself when you succeed. Feed the wolf you want to win, babes; honour your successes and success will honour you.

·         It is bullshit to make coffee dates but not ice cream dates. Or strawberry picking dates. Or dates where you try on hundreds of shoes and not buy a single pair. Dates are for spending time together, not highlighting life’s limitations, however small or temporary.

·         It is bullshit that people are watching you. Don’t feel self-conscious, they are too caught up with their own bullshit to notice.

Anything to add?

February, chill. I've got you covered.

This week has been hard – it’s the first time that sticking to the plan has been hard for an extended length of time, and I know it won’t be the last. I’ve been feeling pretty crappy this week and that means one thing:
Dearest, sweetest chocolate, I want to be with you forever. And if anyone stands between us, I will snap their legs like twigs.

Nononononono!!!

So, it’s the end of the week now, and I’m feeling a bit better. This moment right here is the crucial part of a plan, not just for me but for anyone with a goal in mind. It’s the moment when someone trips and falls and they can decide whether to stay on the ground and wait for the medics, believing they need to be saved, or they can get up and pick the grit out of the graze, believing that unless there’s a bone sticking out they can still run the race.
Of course you know what I’m going to choose, it’s only February, for God’s sake. I’ve got shit to do.

So, to get back on track, I’m going to do some mindful writing. I wholeheartedly believe that even the most action-packed plans are all mind games, and so the frame of mind is all important. Instead of focusing on a series of fails – choices – I’ve made this past week, I’m going to focus on the successes – different choices – I’ve made so far. I believe this technique, a little something I learnt while pregnant to deal with anxiety, is going to be the key to my long term success.

 Here are the truths that I’m choosing to dwell on;

·         I’ve lost a little over four kilos in six weeks without dieting. It’s been easy and what I ate yesterday does not dictate what I eat today.

·         I can plank for a minute and a half and I can do 180 squats without stopping. I’m so proud of these numbers and I have ten months to improve.

·         My garden looks AH-MAY-ZIIING!!!

·         My inspiration fairy whispers wonderful tidbits of book in my ear all the time now, that chick’s a machine. Hahaha!

·         And lastly, Paul and I have gone for lovely walks in different places and it’s beginning to feel like dating again. Teehee. But it’s better because we have this little blonde ballerina drawing our attention to spectacular looking dirt and beautiful dead bugs, among other things.

And now, some truth about the future;

·         My goals last one month – if it’s getting boring or hard, it’s only going to last 31 days at the absolute max. Suck it up, homes.

·         February is going to feel different to January, because your goal is an intellectual one, not a physical one. Enjoy the rest, because March brings you the Durie Hill steps and you are going to OWN them.

·         Shitty days are going to happen and you’re going to have to own them, too.

I’m up, I’ve brushed myself off, and I’ve reminded myself of the big picture. My goals are sooo much bigger than a week of feeling a bit crap and therefore not achieving exactly what I’d hoped.

Thank you, oh medium of blog writing, for this much needed perspective.

Remember me? It's your irrational fear of heights! Here I am!

So, this plan. I thought hard about this plan, taking in to account all sorts of stuff like work commitments and family events and even the weather; notice how I get to stay inside during July and August? I thought about the realities of my limits and the limitlessness of my dreams. Is that even a thing? Ah well.

But. It’s one month in and I’ve hit a snag. A big ole’ ugly bump in the road that I’m going to have to climb over but I really would rather just, well, not.

Did you know, I’m afraid of heights? Do you know that it’s not just proper heights, but little heights like the first step on a step-ladder? I can’t stand on a kid’s chair at work without my knees feeling weak.

Well last weekend I climbed the Durie Hill steps for the first time in my whole life (even though I drive past them every day). And guess what? I forgot that I was afraid of heights until it was time to come back down. It took me as long as to come down those steps as it did to get to the top, and I was holding on to the rail for dear life. Every time I took a step it looked like the stair was falling away from me. Paul strode down carrying Alice, smiling at me partly because he loves me and partly because I was being such a sook.

So in March, I have to climb up those stairs three times a week. No sweat (Well, lots of sweat, actually, it’s a bloody good workout – my lungs were screaming!). What I should actually do is change my plan to ‘come DOWN the Durie Hill steps three times a week’, because suddenly this is not a physical challenge any more, it’s a mental one.

But it gets worse!

Because I’m aware of how terrified I was coming down the stairs on the weekend, I know that if I wait until March to do it again that little mental bump in the road will manifest itself in to a mountain. Damn it, you know what that means. I’m going to have to go up Durie Hill steps before then!

I used to think that I wanted to go up the steps with a friend but I didn’t want to do it with anyone too fit because I didn’t want to hold them back. Now, I want to go up with a friend who won’t laugh at me when they see me creep down the stairs, two hands on the rail.

I don’t want to go back up there, to be honest. But on the other hand, I really, really do. What is there to really be afraid of? Nothing. What is there to lose? A small part of my irrational fear of a slightly elevated standing position and some calories. And how wonderful would it be, to stroll down the stairs like those two girls in jandals that passed me, not watching where they were going and not holding on to the rail? That would be a dream come true!

Can you remind me of these things, please, when I’m on the verge of making up a lame excuse?

January: Love!

Grew: zucchini seedlings, carrot seedlings, sweet corn seedlings, spinach and lettuce.

Wrote: two weddings, a letter to no one about the river, the first chapter of ‘My Magic Garden’

Discovered/ learnt/ wondered: I loooove weddings; bliss ball recipe; why isn’t photography a major part of ‘The Plan’?

Read: “Big Magic: Creative living beyond Fear” by Elizabeth Gilbert

Successes: 300,000 + steps, 2,000 + squats, booked six new weddings, walked up Durie Hill steps and didn’t die.

Struggled with: sugar cravings, faulty pedometers, lack of sleep.

Highlight: A friend’s wedding

Seeing the first completed month of the plan laid out like that is pretty awesome! What a great start to the year it’s been. The sun is shining, weather is sweet. Yeah.

A major part of The Plan is cultivating a garden, and the sweet January weather has been simply stellar for this. The small picture is the veggie patch, but the big picture is cultivating a life that is more sustainable, putting our land to good use, and creating a relationship with nature. The simple act of planting vegies is having a huge number of benefits for me and my family, like it does for anyone who has a wee patch of their own. It’s saving us money, first and foremost. It gets me outside for longer. I have a sense of purpose and responsibility. I’m learning about seedlings and fruit trees and different ways to deal with those damn slaters, and Alice is learning about it all, too. Alice and the garden is probably the best thing of all. And it wasn’t until our beautiful tomato plants were mauled by the next door neighbours’ scary razorback pig that I realised how much I’ve enjoyed taking care of those little plants.

By crikey, I love gardening. Who knew?

I didn’t only start work on the garden this month; I started work on the creative flow, too. The first weeks of The Plan coincided with my wonderful sister buying a book for me, Big Magic. It is one author’s take on creativity and, essentially, how we can fall in love with our art. I devoured this book and its wisdom. ‘Big Magic’ is the term used to describe the enigma of creativity, inspiration, and our desire to allow the ideas that visit us to manifest. This book, if nothing else, reminded me of how prolifically I wrote as a child and teenager, when I felt ideas flow through me on seas of words that I sailed at my leisure. It reminded me that writing never used to be hard work and that ideas were free. It can be that way again!

When I finished the book I said out loud; ‘Hey, inspiration, I’m gonna need you to start visiting me more often, if that’s ok with you.’ Because this book isn’t a ‘how to create’ self-help book, it is a book about how we open ourselves to the new, the unexpected, the scary and the life-changing. I’m going to need all those skills in the months to come not just for writing but for the physical challenges, too.

So, since I invited inspiration in, she’s visited every Tuesday. She sails in, hands me an oar and pulls me on board, and I feel the sea rush me again. Before she leaves I say thank you; I don’t want to seem ungrateful for her help.

I love the writing process. It’s as much an affirmation as it is a revelation.

I have used Big Magic to help write and edit weddings, delivering five this month and preparing for four that are coming up. And even though I’ve been doing this for five years, the depth and significance of these moments that I am so privileged to be a part of is only just starting to sink in. I hear couples in love declare all kinds of wonderful promises to each other all the time, but do you know what got me? It was a man who, as he slipped a ring on to his wife’s finger, said these words with all confidence;
“This is my greatest gift of love. And it’s only for you.”
I was so close to his self-assurance and complete commitment to those words I felt it spark in the air. I am not saying that those before him didn’t mean it, I’m saying that something inside me has opened up enough to see the weight of their words.

And then on the last Saturday of January, I was a guest at my friend’s wedding, a guest at the first wedding out of 35 in the past five years. A series of events and mistakes on my part meant I was not their celebrant but I think if I was, I would not have seen their wedding for what it really was. I don’t know why, but hearing them pledge to stay together forever – and knowing they are two individuals that will honour that pledge – shook me so much that I still can’t put how I felt in to words.

I love weddings.

This is why January can be summed up with the word ‘love’. Mostly those weddings, but those words I’ve written, too, and all that life around me. It’s all love. I can take that love I discovered in Paul and Alice and apply it elsewhere, find it elsewhere, feel it elsewhere.

Love is sweet. Makes you wanna move jah dancing feet, yeah.

The Look

I read somewhere that, for a better chance of achieving personal goals, it’s best not to tell anyone.
Screw that.
I’m like, tell anyone who will listen.

I’ve told people because it’s important to me, and because it’s what I’m focusing on at the moment, and because I’m excited. I’ve told people because fitness is what we have in common, because writing is what we have in common, or because we have nothing in common and large scale goal planning is just something to talk about. I’ve told people to fill up the silence or add to the noise or move the conversation away from complaining about the weather. I’ve told people for the express purpose of asking for their help. Sometimes I talk for no reason and the plan just kind of slips out by accident.

I tell people because there a certain amount of accountability when an idea is shared with the universe. The commitment is to yourself only, sure, but to have people innocently ask ‘Hey, any new recipe ideas for me?’ or ‘Can I join you for walks this week? I need to get off the couch,’ or even just ‘I didn’t see a blog this month, did I miss it?’ can provide a little bit of focus and make you realise that actually, other people care about you and they value what you’re doing.

There have been quite a few people that have said ‘good luck’ and ‘what a cool idea’ and ‘what website was the plan on?’ there have been a select few people that have said, ‘holy crap, Batman in a petticoat, I’m going to do something like that, too.’ Maybe not in so many words but you get the picture and it’s awesome sauce nonetheless.

And lots of people look at me funny. I can’t even describe it, it’s a mix between disbelief and confusion and even a little bit of disgust, for some reason. It’s clear that they think I can’t do it. It’s clear that they think what I’m planning is too big, too hard, too much, just “too” in general. And it’s clear, in some people, that they are taking bets with themselves to see how long it takes me to fail. They might not even think they are thinking these things. Maybe they think it’s pity – ‘oh, poor Tiffany, setting her sights too high like usual.’ But I see it.

Why wish that one someone? This is myself we are talking about here, do they not think I’m worth it?

On one hand, those looks put me off telling people. I literally and figuratively don’t need that negativity in my life. This plan is challenging enough in itself, I don’t need people betting against me, waiting for the day to give themselves the smug little ‘I told you so’ smile. So it would be easier for me to not tell them, to just keep it a secret or only tell a few people who I know are success focused and optimistic by nature.

Because the truth is, I might fail. And that’s a bit scary to know that already, only two weeks in. So it would make sense to surround myself with positive, glowing conversation about the plan and pretend the other doesn’t exist.

But on the other hand, I realise that those funny looks are a motivation in itself. Anyone who knows me when I’m tired, hungry, pre-menstrual or passionate about something knows that I’m argumentative and I hate being wrong. Well, I’m passionate about this plan (and those other factors will make an appearance, too). So I’m going to do everything I can to prove to everyone – myself most importantly of all – that this plan is well within my capabilities and I will be a better person because of it.

The more people look at me with that confused, disgusted, disbelieving face, the more I’ll smile and say ‘well I’m going great so far and it’s just going to get easier!’ The more people talk about the obstacles I’ll face, the more motivation there is to step, to read, to focus and to write.  I get off on people telling me I am wrong and I can’t do it – just fucking watch me.  

What I actually want, in my heart of hearts, is for them to forget that there even is a plan, and for them to start thinking, ‘That Tiffany, she’s got a pretty cool, healthy life’ when they think about me. Because that’s what I want for myself, too.

The Plan

With such high hopes for myself, I decided I needed a plan. What I have in mind is not a new year’s resolution as such, but a process of change that has a time frame of one year. The world of education is all about strategic planning and goal setting, so I’m going to use what I know and set some SMART goals for myself.
A SMART goal is;
Specific
Measurable
Action-based
Realisitic
Time-bound

So my aim is to be better at being me. This is not a smart goal. It’s kind of comical little telling off for being a dork. But this is the idea that sits loftily in the clouds, shining brightly with a gold hue and glitter dropping from it like unicorn snot.

How I will get to this idea in the clouds is via a staircase that I will build from SMART goals. Some of the steps are small, some I’ll need a stepladder and platform shoes to climb. But put them all together, and they will be my path to a brighter, shinier new me.

I have a big wall planner that has the foreseeable events for this year all marked out, including the goals I have set myself that you’re about to read. As you’ll see, this is a pretty big commitment to myself. I’ve thought a lot about this, about what is important to me and how I want my lifestyle to change. The thing is, I already do a lot of these things, in fits and bursts or without paying any real attention to it. What this plan does is make time for it. It helps me stay accountable to myself, to remind myself of the bigger picture, and to show me how rich and wonderful a life – my life – can be.

Weekly – This is important:

• Add to the ‘Blessed with Awesome’ jar.
• 10,000 steps a day, five days a week.
• Write something – a wedding, blog, portfolio reflection or work on the novel
• Play the ukulele
• Save ten dollars, five in to savings and five in to Alice’s account.
• Study
• Gym it when you can – aim for three times a week.

Monthly -  This is also important, especially the first one:

• A date with Paul, with or without Alice.
• A weigh and measure at the gym.

January

• Squat challenge
• Plant leek, sweet corn, and lettuce.
• Do those weddings!

February

• Read and reflect on two articles from Child Forum or another source. Reward – Professional development in New Plymouth.
• Plant beetroot, cabbage, onion

March

• Durie Hill steps twice a week. Reward –  Manawatu Gorge walk with Paul. Write about what you hear.
• Plant Kale, cauliflower, and rhubarb
• Te Reo Maori course starts this month, too.

April

• Bridge loop twice a week
• Review teaching portfolio
• Plant garlic, peas, spinach

May

• Learn three new songs on the ukulele
• Plant silverbeet and wildflowers
• Enjoy graduation day, you earned it. Write about this day.

June

• Celebrate Paul’s birthday
• Walk up St. John’s hill and down twice a week. Reward – Rangi Hut Trail
• Plant Rocket

July

• Squat challenge. Reward – Live music night at Delicious Café
• Go to Rainbow in my Head, Wellington, then get your reflection on.

August

• Ten minutes on the bike five times a week.
• Read a novel, buy a new one if you must...
• See what’s available and plant that!

September

• Bridge loop twice a week
• Take the uke, a drum, and Alice, and go make music in the park. Write about it, capture her in the piece.
• Plant pumpkin, strawberries, broccoli, potatoes

October

• Celebrate Alice’s birthday! Three years old!
• Plant tomato, carrot, sunflowers, capsicum

November

• Focus on Te Ara Reo Maori, you’re nearly there!
• Happy birthday to me…
• If possible, have a stall at Ashley Park Country Fair
• Plant spring onion, courgette, parsnip

December

• Plant kumara, herbs, and catch up
• Go to the beach, write about how the sand feels.
• Make Christmas gifts again, remember how much you enjoyed it last year?
• Collect up everything you've written this year and call yourself a writer, for goodness sake.

Specific? I think so. Measureable? Sure. They’re definitely action based. Realistic, too, for the most part – I’ve tried to be accurate in planting times with the vegies but this will all depend on space, availability, weather… but I’ll try my best! And it’s time bound for sure. Come December I’ll be ready to evaluate the effect this intentional living has had on my life. I gotta say, I’m pretty excited…