Un Momento Por Favor

 Which is not Portuguese but one of my favorite sayings.

A friend of mine has on his wall a photo of himself inside this huge barrel wave. On a surfboard of course. Not just hanging around drinking coffee. I love the picture because it is a picture of someone who is totally, one hundred percent, in the moment. As a photo he is snapped still but not passive, clearly fully involved in a moment of amazing.

And being fully in, yet alone really experiencing a moment, is hard. We tend to be either regretting/reflecting on a past moment or worrying/looking forward to a future moment and meanwhile we miss all the potentially amazing moments we’re actually in. I’ve been trying very deliberately for years to appreciate the present moments, not necessarily because they’re good but because they’re my life and that’s the only one I’ve got.  Also because another ridiculously insightful friend told me that any time spent regretting or wishing (reflecting is OK!) on the past was a complete waste of time because no matter what we will never, ever, ever change it. I always knew this but forgot it quite a bit, more out of habit probably – so many mornings with the beer-niggles conditions you a bit to close your eyes against the recent past and wince. Not so often now thanks Obi Wan Hock.

I’m much better at it than I used to be, in the past my thoughts would flash around so fast I couldn’t even be in the same time zone as my moments, but a bit of age, a bit of suffering, a shitload of travel and some yoga breathing means I can really appreciate a good moment. My most recent favorite: diving into the amazing, croc free blue ocean of Portugal despite being warned it is the coldest locals have experienced in a billion years. HA HA! I mocked, I’m Victorian! I have swum in Warrnambool in the winter! So in I ran and the cold sucked all the air out of me and gave me the equivalent of a brain freeze in all of my internal organs. There was a moment of sharp, painful, exhilarating, mind blowing cold. And I burst out of the water laughing and choking and spluttering and snorting like a mermaid on crack.  It was a moment of feeling totally alive and alove with the world.

But it still ain’t easy, my last session of yoga was about being very present in the moment and breathing through any pain in your body– the idea being that you only feel pain as it’s leaving your body. After three days of travelling and many hours of trying to sleep horizontally while being vertical there was a bit of pain to get the fuck out of my body. Which was great, so I was breathing and accepting and almost asleep while sitting up again when:

Brain: Hmmm, I wonder if they’re doing those fish tacos at The Green Room again today, I’m pretty hungry, I could go a couple for lunch.

Yoga teacher: If you feel your mind beginning to fill with thoughts, go back to the breathing, feel the pain and empty your mind of thoughts.

Brain: Fish tacos fish tacos fish tacos.

So a little bit more work to be done. To totally overuse a metaphor – which I very much enjoy doing- I’m thinking that a moment is a bit like a really cool bar with comfy couches and chairs and stuff. Sometimes we stick our heads in to see who’s there, sometimes we walk straight through to the dunnies, sometimes we prop at the bar and watch the TV screen on the wall. There might be those who stumble through and don’t even realize due to overindulging. I would like to be in a big old beanbag in the middle, arse fully settled on and reassuringly supported by the beans, drink in hand. I wouldn’t mind if I was in the way really, or if someone tripped over me, it could make for an interesting conversation (in my metaphor moments I won’t get punched in the face for being annoying). I’d like to be able to see and speak to everyone if I want of just watch them hanging out. I’d like to be totally in it and seeing and feeling all of it.

So while I sit in yet another airport drinking a really ordinary coffee I am fully prepared and on the verge of rip roaring excitement to experience a few barrel moments in Morocco. I am going to take a big yoga breath and suck it all in thanks very much.

Super Me

So today I went to see the new Spiderman movie. Much better than I expected after the lowlight that was the last one. And I was thinking; it is such and odd idea – to have spider superpowers but they are clearly extremely cool in dire situations, or when wanting to impress a romantic interest.

And all the way home I wondered what kind of superpowers I would like to have.

In our early twenties my cousins, brother and I once had a very interesting, very creative, very animated, very long, very entertaining and clearly very drunk discussion about what our superpowers were – what we had to offer at that point in our lives that none of the rest of us did. Then we had to explain the wonderful, awe inspiring and useful things we could do with that superpower. Mine was my driving license – I was the only one at that point who had one. I had a long list of reasons this was a fabulous and necessary superpower but to be honest it was never really going to be the stuff of Marvel inspiration, I have never been a reliable driver. "Exciting" some might say, "adventurous",  "dangerous" others might have complained. I can’t be relied on to concentrate for long periods of time, stay sober, follow road rules and speed limits or to stay away from the wheel after drinking….And for someone who doesn’t really cry a lot I have been known to cry very hard while driving – and big tears create serious visual obstacles. A pissy, speed loving, seatbeltless, distracted, belligerent, blubbering, irresponsible road menace does not a Marvel comic superhero make. It actually makes for a character who should be written out of a storyline for being dangerous to herself and others.  I would be the villain run over by the hero or zapped out of the car into another dimension where there were no cars, just looooong roads that had to be walked – or with really low cars but all roads paved with continual speed humps - as eternal punishment for my evil road doings.

So, what kind of super powers would I like?

The ability to fly would be best – like Superman being able to turn back time by flying reeeeeaaallly fast around the world, I would

a) Go back and erase a few tequila-fuelled misdemeanors and shit guy choices and

b) Get to my friends n family ASAP when I need to be known and loved and when I really miiiiiissss them!

Some kind of incredible martial artsy type fighting skills because

a) You look cool and

b) You look cool in leather.

Immortality-because I generally usually have a load of fun and don’t want it to stop ever. Plus you can be like 201 years old and still pick up young hot guys and not be the oldest person on the dance floor.

Telepathy-so the time zone which means I’m Facebooking everyone to see what’s going on in the middle of the Aussie night and feeling like a total loner won’t be necessary. I’ll know exactly what’s going on with ya’ll.

The renewal ability like in the new Spiderman-so when you have a little accident due to :

a) Tequila

b) Awesome sex

c) Drunk sex

d) Being older than you think when exercising

e) Being older than you think

Means you won’t be bruised and stiff and sore and confused but instead totally new within hours if not sooner. 

And super driving skills so you can never ever be a bad road user.

So for now that’s enough super powers I would like. The next installment will require some further reflection on - full circle – the superpowers I already possess. This self-discovery is likely to happen during the yoga sessions I have just found where you’re only allowed to focus on your breath and no thoughts are allowed to enter your mind whatsoever. During this time I’m going to focus on my superpowers. Along with stretching and strengthening this will be good value for the money. Look out Marvel, I’m coming!

Once a child, always a child

My cousin was kind enough to remind me the other day that spending six weeks with my parents would be the longest time I have spent with them since uni holidays – and even then I was working most of the day, weeding tomato paddocks – wonderful work in the 37 ish degree heat of the northern Victorian summer.

And apparently, in just a few days back in the parental fold there is very little distance between teenager Annalea and today’s Annalea – it’s interesting how quickly we can regress to our former, less gracious or compassionate selves in such a short time.

First night after travelling three days and being very confused about who, where and what time it was:

Mum: Now we won’t make any plans cause we know you don’t like to make plans.

Me: Excellent.

The next morning I hear whispering from the lounge room:

Dad: I wonder what time she’ll get up.

Dad: Will she want breakfast before going to the market?

Mum: I don’t know, ask her.

Dad: Maybe we should go for breakfast after the market?

Mum: She might be hungry before that.

Dad: Which café should we go to after the market then?

Me: Morning! Anyone for a vodka?

Dad: Do you want to have breaky now or after the market? Do you want something small or a big eggs breakfast? What do you want to do after the market? Do you want to go to the pool or beach?

Me: I thought I’d just have a vodka and see where the day takes me…

And over the next 2 days:

Mum: What are you going to do with your hair?

Me: I don’t understand the question.

Mum: Aren’t you hot in those boots? Do you have some nice shoes?

Me: I don’t understand the question.

Dad: What are you eating? What are you doing? Where are you going?

Me: Vodka.

Mum: Are you wearing that?

Me: Due to a serious case of swimmer’s ear caused by you letting me run wild and spend every day swimming in freezing cold rivers with treacherous currents, and the nights hanging my head out of cars speeding down long country roads like a crazed border collie – also your fault for not putting locks on the bedroom windows – I can’t hear you.

Mum: Well, your brother didn’t need locks on the windows.

Me: That’s ‘cause he’s boring!!!

Dad: You look beautiful. Except for the boots.

Me :/

Mum: Do you want to go and put some lipstick on?

Me: I don’t understand the question.

Of course I understand the questions, they want to see me and know that I’m here with them. They enjoy their roles as parents and it is wonderful to be spoilt and fussed over – they are very excited to have me here and I have been excited to get here. They want to show me everything they love about the place and how much they’ve made it a bit of a home – the oldies they get their fruit and veg from at the market on Saturday mornings, the café with the best iced coffee, Louis’ Bar; the smoky local where dad hangs out with his mates, the local supermarkets and their favorite lunch spots. 

And it's the wonderful familiar of watching dad cut up his fruit for his cereal with such concentration and precision, then holding it up: Look at that! And mum telling me stories about their neighbours and keeping me up to date with the news - which I never bother to watch. And both of them swearing at the computer. And of course we don’t get to be spoilt often or children forever so for now I will visit and meet and greet and eat, I will pop on some lippy, put my hair up and find some non-boots. Because there was vodka, soda water, limes and gluten free food in the apartment when I arrived. And because the novelty will wear off and then I can run rampant. As they also expect me to do as their child.