Roadblocks & Detours

Life doesn’t always go as we would like, or as we have planned.  That’s a given.

There are often setbacks along the way that can appear to be total roadblocks.  This can be rather disappointing and even frustrating at times, whilst we figure out what to do next.  Sometimes we might sit at a roadblock for quite some time, not seeing anything but the roadblock, unable to think about how we can move on, go around.


Then come the detours — the often seemingly unrelated detours of life.  Sometimes a detour may take you a long way from where you wanted to go, or thought you wanted to go.  And occasionally a detour will bring you to a destination you didn’t realise you wanted, but it was a good one anyway.

Life has a way of turning out differently and sometimes even better than we could have imagined.  Because sometimes where we end up is really what we wanted, only we didn’t know it at the start.

If we stop and look back on our  lives we will see that there were times things went a little haywire before developing into something that felt just right.  Times when we thought we were settling for second best, but in reality turned out okay — even great.

There is an old adage that says ‘When one door closes, another one always opens.’  However there is an addition to this — ‘When one door closes, we often look longingly at the closed door and miss the one thats just opened!’  Or words to that effect.

Something goes wrong — or appears to, a friend pats you on the back and says “Everything will turn out all right — it was probably for the best anyway.” And you grit your teeth, smile whilst inwardly rolling your eyes.  Then somehow things do work out okay.

So roadblocks don’t always need to be disappointing, because they may lead you to a detour that takes you to a much better place.



The Promise of Spring…

Officially we are in the season of Spring.

There is blossom on trees, new leaves and shoots on the roses and the weeds are starting to grow in my veggie garden — well everywhere in the garden.

To me, Spring conjures up visions of sunnier days, warmer  weather — well warmer than Winter at least.  Yet here we are in the second week of the season and we’ve had days of high winds, rain almost daily, hail at times and even snow in places that rarely get it and it’s been bloody cold!

So realistically I know that just because the calendar says it is officially a new season it doesn’t mean that everything changes overnight.  Oh well its summer next and on the first of December it will be warm and sunny and I can wear my sleeveless tops, sandals and lightweight pants and be careful not to get burnt from the hot sun.  Really?

A bit like when it’s my birthday and everything is going to work beautifully for the day — there will be no worries or concerns, the sun will shine and everyone will be nice to me. Not.

How often do you look forward to an event and think that all will be wonderful when that happens, or perhaps things will change because of it?

Life doesn’t seem to happen that way most of the time.  We don’t tend to factor in disappointments, but they happen anyway.  We may think that if ‘x’ happens, then I will feel ‘y’ and all will be well.  Reality has it often being quite the opposite.

Then again, how would life really be if we knew exactly what would happen?

I think it would be rather boring actually if I knew what was going to happen and when.  The concept of anticipation and excitement might fall a little bit flat, whereas now I don’t really know what is going to happen.

Not knowing gives a certain edge or thrill even when I consider how I’d like for things to be, yet understanding that they may not evolve that way.  They may even be better — who knows.

Would we pay for a ticket to the footy if we knew that our team was going to be thrashed or would we get married if we knew it was going to end in divorce?  I don’t think so.

If life was predictable then where is the fun?  How much enjoyment would there be?

No, I’d rather listen to the ‘experts’ who say that there is no way my team can beat that one, and be really happy if they do, or okay if they don’t.   Either way I will choose to enjoy the game and I may end up being thoroughly delighted when they win.

But oh gosh I’d love to see those ‘expert’ commentators proven wrong, so I’m hoping to feel rather smug on Saturday, or maybe I’ll just be resigned to wait until next year.



I am not a robot

For some time now I’ve been exploring ways of promoting the book Coping With Suicide.   I’m now doing things on social media I’d never imagined doing, and I’m having fun doing them. #copingwithsuicide

I’ve also participated in a public speaking workshop to help me improve my presentation, and part of that was to craft a ten minute talk.  So I’ve been working on my talk, getting to the point where I don’t need my notes, but rather remembering the key points and then elaborating on those.  I then started looking for situations where I would be able to present my talk.

So last night I presented this particular talk for the first time.  I wasn’t nervous, I was well and truly ready to do it.  I’d had a little bit of anxiety earlier in the day, but really nothing much.

When the time came for me to talk I walked to the front of the room, took a deep breath and began.  I found myself struggling to get the words out — not because I couldn’t remember them, but because I suddenly became emotional.

Now I’ve been able to talk about Kelly’s death, the book and all that is related to that quite easily for some years now.  Of course there is the occasional time that the tears come, but those are rare now that we are seventeen years on.  Or so I thought.

I didn’t shed any tears last night, but my throat just seemed very tight and it was hard to get those first few sentences out.  Once I’d done them, it all flowed reasonably well.  Of course I did forget a few things, but nobody else knows what they were.  I warmed to the occasion and by the end of my ten minutes felt quite comfortable.

It was a strange feeling, because although I wasn’t nervous it probably looked like I was.  Maybe it was just because I was sharing in public some very personal things.  It is rather different from actually writing them down and having them published — you are quite removed from the words as opposed to standing and speaking them.

Still, overall I was happy with the talk even though I need more practice I can only improve — I hope.

Last night I discovered another one of my vulnerabilities and found that I am not a robot — that even though Kelly has been gone for seventeen years, there is still a lot of rawness  associated with her death.

And now I know that there always will be.

So I’m human after all.