I’ve just sat on my front porch for the morning – sun tinkling in through the roses, a nice cool breeze keeping the temperature just right.  I had a bag full of wool by my side.  A freshly made beetroot, carrot, orange and ginger juice in my glass.  A sweet little dog for company.  Glasses to help me see better.  Indeed, I feel very very fortunate to have these things.  Add to that – a safe community, public transport at my door, access to good health care and education, a healthy child, a hard working husband, and the right to vote in the upcoming federal election.  Yep … things are very good.

Now – I know that I can whine along with the best of them.  Here at block-a-day, you have heard me whine about moving away from my family and friends, living in Melbourne, having less money than we would like, putting up with teenage foibles in my university classes …  and that’s only the stuff I don’t feel too embarrassed to confess to.  Ask Julian and Abby and I’m sure they’d be able to provide you with way more fodder.  I am so far from perfect … oh, so far.

But this morning, I had occasion to listen to the thoughts of a couple of other people and found myself a bit impatient with their “woe is me” attitudes.  One was wringing her hands in sadness over the fact that her youngest child (with several older siblings) was now at school – and at home there were no more little hands to hold, no more kindergarten classes, no more long and lovely days at home … in fact, this has been a fairly constant theme for this person over the last few months.  On the one hand, I hope I am a compassionate person and I am sure she is feeling genuine distress. These are her feelings and she has a right to them – there could be other factors at play to which I am not privy.  On the other hand – she has several children – healthy, lovely, fortunate children.  She has had many, many years of hand holding and kinder and lovely days at home with said children.  And she is also blessed with the very realistic expectation that there will be many, many more wonderful years of parenting ahead of her.

Made me think of a dear family friend (and all those in a similar position) who after 15 years of “trying” has now, sadly, accepted she will have no children, no squidgy little hands to hold, no wonderful memories of days at home with wee ones, let alone the privilege of a lifetime of parenting.  And in a moment of recognised selfishness, I even thought of myself.  I would have dearly loved several children – can’t imagine anything better than a house bursting with children. But it wasn’t to be.  Hmmm … I’d have been ecstatic with several – let alone an extra one or two – wee sweeties to spend years and years at home with, before moving on to the next stage of life.  I just cannot understand why this person is so focussed on what she has “lost” when she already has so much.

The other person I encountered this morning had a little rant about the government’s proposed (now scuttled) changes to the superannuation system – chiefly – the taxing of lump sums of $1,000,000 or greater that are withdrawn from a person’s super fund once they have retired.  The government’s rationale – they have several important/essential to the rights and dignity of our citizens/crucial to the wellbeing of our society reforms to fund – a National Disability Insurance Scheme and the Gonski Education Reforms – and they figured that a bit of wealth redistribution at the top end was a fair way to achieve these.

I have worked with children and families with disabilities.  We have a very close family friend with a profound physical and intellectual disability.  I have seen first hand the poverty and frustration these people live with.  The umpteen times they have had to GROVEL for assistance.  The appallingly disrespectful and exclusive manner in which they are treated – not just by strangers in the street and sometimes their own families, but the organisations (such as UniCare and the Red Cross) who are supposed to be their fiercest advocates, the health departments upon who they may rely so heavily, the churches to which they belong. I live down the road from a state high school that cannot open it’s library on a daily basis because it has no funding for a librarian and relies on part time teachers volunteering extra hours.

And this person was fuming over the wealth of only 5% of Australia’s population being vulnerable to taxation.  Hmmm … like most people when asked, I would love a bit more money.  Take the heat off paying the school fees, the bills etc.  But I am equally happy to have a bit less of the pie so that my family friend can eat fresh vegetables (instead of supermarket brand tinned food) and see the dentist at least once a year and that’s just a start. ‘Cause the pie is only so big.  It’s not an all you can eat feast – every time we take more than our share, that’s a little less that someone else has to make do with.  Should I ever find myself required to sign a withdrawal slip for $1,000,000 it will be my privilege to hand some over to the government first.

You only have to look at the photos on this blog – and the other hundreds – thousands! – of blogs like it to see that so many of us have so much.  Sure – blogs usually only show the pretty bits and I am just as guilty at this as the next person – gotta preserve some dignity, if not for me, than for my family!  But even when I add in the health concerns we have, the financial tightness we jostle every month, the loneliness I sometimes feel, the despair about whether I am being a good enough parent or wife that I sometimes experience, some of the dreams of my youth that have slipped through my fingers …

… I only have to remember that I’ve just spent the morning sitting on my sunny, pretty, peaceful front porch – my child is receiving a wonderful education, my husband is pursuing his ambition, I am completing a life changing degree.  We have no life-debilitating conditions.  There are no bombs falling.  No government tanks rolling down our street.  No rising sea levels wiping out our homes.  No censorship on our internet, our newspapers, our televisions, our novels.  No horrific state or society sanctioned violence against women and girl children.  No breathtaking corruption that sees our government services stripped bare.

From a mental health perspective, I know that it’s not helpful for those who do struggle in our society to be regularly reminded of the above.  We can only deal with what is in front of us and to say that all else pales into insignificance when compared to the horrors that are endured by other communities does indeed belittle the very real despair and anxiety many in our community feel.  However, as a sufferer of debilitating anxiety myself, I think that every now and then we DO need to look around ourselves – as a valuable form of self-medicine – and recognise the amazing blessings we live with. Recognise them, embrace them, celebrate them … share them.

I think being fortunate enough to not only have several children but to live in a beautiful part of the world and send them off safe and healthy to a good school is an amazing blessing.  I think having access to lump sums of more than a million dollars upon retirement is an extraordinary blessing.  It may not perfect – I’m not perfect – but gee, I think we have it pretty good.

So that’s what I was thinking on the front porch.

thoughts from the front porch

10 thoughts on “thoughts from the front porch

  • February 7, 2013 at 9:41 pm

    Hello Lily,

    You are spot on. I agree with you whole heartily. I could say so much to the lady feeling sorry her kiddies are all now in school. (of course in a nice way)
    Some watch while their friends all fall pregnant but not them. Some fall pregnant only to miscarry after years of trying and those same couples watch as their friends become grandparents. They will always wonder why. That’s a sadness that doesn’t heal.

    Blessings Gail

  • February 7, 2013 at 10:55 pm

    We have much to be thankful for!

  • February 8, 2013 at 12:30 am

    Lily, this is a wonderful blog post.

    You so right, in the rush of life, people sometimes forget to remember what they do have. We miss the little things that add up to a whole lot!

    Sounds like a lovely way to spend time! x

  • February 8, 2013 at 3:11 am

    Gratitude is a wonderful thing. Thanks!

  • February 8, 2013 at 5:37 am

    Wow, Lily! Those are some deep thoughts you were having on your front porch! I am deep in the wilds of winter up here on my mountain and am struggling with my excess of melatonin to just stay awake much less think about the issues and struggles of the world like you are doing today! I am currently taking a Psychology of Gender class that is amazing and uses “real” books that are much more accessible than many textbooks. First I read “Reviving Ophelia” and got depressed about the struggles facing adolescent girls and now we are on to “Guyland” which is getting me depressed about the struggles facing adolescent boys! I appreciate your beautiful pictures interlaced with such delicate and difficult topics…we need more beauty in our world!
    Thank you for your thoughtful and inspiring posts!

  • February 8, 2013 at 7:14 am

    Oh! I do love listening to you think!

  • February 8, 2013 at 7:34 am

    Hear hear! I have had a shocker of a week myself and have managed to hold on with grace and sanity by remembering how much I have. Next week will be better!

  • February 8, 2013 at 8:13 am

    I asked my daughter (5 y.o.) a few weeks back if she thinks we’re rich or poor. Her answer? RICH! (We live on less than 800€ a month, about half of which goes to heating, electricity and phone bills) We’re considered the poor in this country. And sometimes I feel it quite desperately. We eat a lot of pasta and not a lot of fresh veggies some months ;-)
    But man am I PROUD that my daughter thinks we’re truly rich because as much as our politicians, and certain groups in our society, would like to paint me and my fellow poor as bad parents, I really don’t think We are. I think if I can manage to provide everything necessary to my children in a way that makes them feel rich? I’m probably doing pretty damn well.

    I can understand your friends grief at “losing” the baby years. I grieved, too. It’s lovely to cuddle with a little one on the couch half a morning, potter around the house with one, play silly games together, sit at the playground watching one one child… It’ll pass. Soon she’ll realize how wonderful it is to have a cup of coffee uninterrupted and do work around the house without it instantly being trashed again ;-)

  • February 8, 2013 at 4:33 pm

    Hi Lily – great post today. I also have sent my last child of 4 off to school this week and I am just so grateful that I have had many years to spend at home with my children. Grateful I was financially able to do it and grateful that my husband supported me emotionally in looking after my beautiful crowd of kids. I have never taken my children for granted as I would have found it very difficult to not have had this wonderful experience.
    Anyway…enough waffling… thank you for this message. In Australia we are way ahead in luck than sooo many other places …just because we were born in this safe, demcratic country.

  • February 8, 2013 at 4:52 pm

    Hi Lily,
    I have just stumbled across your blog and read today’s post. How perceptive you are. I put my business on hold last year due to debilitating anxiety caused by my mother’s terrible illness and the awful retail climate affecting the viability of my business. So much doom and gloom. After a shortish melt down I can suddenly see clearly that it has been a brilliant move.
    I have spent the last 6 months of my beautiful twin girls primary school years actually being there for them. I’ve been able to spend time at home in my garden (growing my own veggies is FUN), walking my dog (never had one before), cooking (couldn’t believe how enjoyable when not stressed)keeping my house clean (satisfying), catching up with friends (always wanted to), playing family cricket in the park through the holidays (I can really slog them with the bat!).
    I have finally woken up and smelt the roses! I realise after all these years just how kind, patient and wonderful my husband is. I am the luckiest person in the world and finally I know it.
    Thanks for sharing your thoughts – they are so much like my own.

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