Nothing is ever certain.

I’m sure if you’re a millennial, you’ve felt it.

That feeling of uncertainty. Questioning everything. Begging for enlightenment.

While staring blankly at the unknown, you still try to keep your shit together. Have a good time with your friends, smile at people on the street, be grateful for what you already do have, make the most of everyday and post an insta pic with a positive quote.

But it still lingers. The frustration, impatience and hesitation.

We’ve detached ourselves from doing one thing and being good at it like we’re told in school, to having too many options available and only just keeping our head about water in a sea of overwhelm. 

Maybe we’ve only done one thing and had enough. Maybe we’ve tried to many things and we just don’t know anymore. Maybe we’ve felt like we’ve done absolutely nothing at all.

Two months ago I sat in the middle of my favourite book shop, coffee in hand, eyes gazed at all of the different binds on the shelves. 

This was after a three month stint of chaos and confusion. Going back home, crying in my mothers arms and saying to myself ‘what the fuck am I doing with my life’. 

I’m twenty-five now, and have spent the first half of my twenties as a writer, blogger, interpreter, barista, essential oil educator and traveller.  I’ve experienced the creative juggle between doing what you love and making a living. The highs and lows of ‘finding your purpose’. The battle between contentment and yearning for reward. The feeling one moment that ‘I’m right where I’m meant to be’ and then the next moment screaming ‘just do something linear and successful already’.

But I believe this goes beyond a quarter-life crisis. It's life. We all crave something that is aligned with our values and encompasses our truth. But what I believe now, is that we're forever on a journey of figuring stuff out and redefining what truly matters to us. Whether we're in our twenties, thirties or forties, change is unavoidable.

I sat there a little longer, my thoughts dancing around in my head. I knew I loved helping people, whether through my writing, listening, being there or creating mini-miracles. 

But writing solely wasn’t satisfying me enough. It’s not that I don’t love it to death because I do. Quite simply, I just knew there was more for me. A yearning to learn again. Absorb knowledge. Grow in expertise. Develop leadership.

So in that very moment, I decided I wanted to study counselling. A sigh of relief which strangely but instantly cleared the exasperation pent up in my heart for months. 

Am I certain of my decision now? Yes. 

Will this be the path I continue in ten years time? Who knows. 

But the real lesson I took away here, wasn't finding the answer. It was everything else in between.

The 'find your purpose' tale is not a romantic one. It's messy. You discover truths about yourself, but have no idea how to act upon them. You have meltdowns.  You have coffee dates with people that you hope might have the answer for you but they don't. You get life-coaching that leaves you feeling inspired instantly but then a few months later, you find yourself lost again. You have kinesiology appointments because you think it's an emotional thing. You get psychic readings because they have to deliver answers even if they are ambiguous. Or you find yourself being an over-consumer of self-help books.

And that is the chaos of self-discovery.

But through each and every frustration, hope, mistake and breakthrough - there’s a chance for us to to grow. 

Looking in from the outside in a physical sense, I could tell myself the last five years were wasted and I should’ve tried harder to figure this out sooner, not give up on my writing so easily or stuck to a career and worked hard on it.

But emotionally and mentally, these last five years has seen me connect and learn from others, unbound myself from expectations, build resilience and one of my favourites - stand with conviction and truth about what I want. 

Most importantly,  it's allowed me to not only be stronger because of it, but feel stronger.

Whether it takes you five months, five years or ten years to figure it all out, it’s irrelevant. Because even when you get there, chances are you'll feel it again someday. 

And if that time comes, be open to the process again. 

Because nothing is ever certain. 

But what is certain, is how we choose to embrace the messiness of it. 

The Experiment

My Pa, who has lived a linear life of success said to me yesterday,

‘You’re just like your Grandma, you definitely didn’t get it from me’.

He was referring to my hippie creative writing life that currently lacks a ‘success’ outcome right now.

He’s right.

 

I’m the girl who went and got a degree but hasn’t even used it.

I’m the girl who still works in a coffee shop.

I’m the girl who then writes in all the spaces between because it fills up her entire body with the innermost peace.

I’m the girl who buys too many books and has plenty of time to read them.

I’m the girl who writes down every idea before it can fly away.

 

And sometimes, living this kind of life can be damn scary.

But I’m also the girl who has the courage to undergo this personal experiment instead of finding something concrete. Something stable. Something that has a recognisable standard of 'success'.

I’ve decided to play the game.

To dabble and flirt.

To see where it goes and take it day by day.

Because right now, the idea of measuring my success against something external like money, security or status isn’t working for me right now.

It’s running me into the ground, filling my lungs up with anxiety and suffocating me.

So I’ve decided to switch things up.

For the rest of the year, my metric for success isn’t going to be ‘a paid writer’ or ‘famous writer’ or 'find another career that will give me security.'

It’s going to be growth, learning, discovery, enlightenment.

My life is going to be enriched by what I learn each day when I put pen to paper.

If it gets published that's great, If it doesn't that's okay too.

The words will still show up

Through every hope,
Through every doubt,
Through every storm, 
Through every sunrise.

Maybe there will be no outcome.

But it will never be time wasted.

Because writing makes me a better person. It brings me inner peace. It delivers true wisdom to my soul.


So until my heart navigates in a different direction,

I’m going to keep going.

If you're feeling this, I suggest you do the same.

Love K.

It doesn't have to be this way

It doesn’t have to be this way, getting so shackled in your thoughts. If only you could pay more attention to the feeling of the wind sweeping onto your skin, the gift of a sunrise, the look into the eyes of another soul you love, the tipsy belly laughs at 1 am or the first sip of your coffee in the morning.     

It doesn’t have to be this way, keeping your dreams locked up safely in your heart because that way they are sheltered from fear or regret. Growth is pleasant and uncomfortable, but did you know trees can grow through rocks? Flowers can grow through cracked pavements? Sound can travel fifteen times faster through steel?

It doesn’t have to be this way, silencing your heart’s truest desires. Your heart beats approximately 115, 200 times per day. Allow those desires to pulsate through your blood and rush through your body so fiercely you have no choice but to act on them. Share them. Honour them.

It doesn’t have to be this way, avoiding telling someone how you truly feel about them because you’re afraid of getting hurt or losing them. You will never fall in love if you aren’t prepared for your heart to get broken. Whether you’re in a relationship or not, strength will never grow without truth.  

It doesn’t have to be this way, living in the past because of the ache of regret or the comfort in old feelings familiar. Whether it feels good or not, it’s robbing you of your chance to be happy in this moment right now. Contentment begins with presence.

It doesn’t have to be this way, settling for something you don’t want. The reason why other people are doing what they love is because they decided not to choose mediocrely. They were ready for opinions to plummet around them. They knew they had to stop being important for someone else’s reasons.

It doesn’t have to be this way, the heavy forces of your problems pressing on your shoulders. They are just as iridescent as the colours you see in soap bubbles, butterfly wings and seashells - they change depending on the angle you look at them.

It doesn’t have to be this way, worrying about what other people think of you. If only you could shake it off because you know their thoughts are merely a projection of their fears. You’ve got enough of your own fears to deal with let alone those of others.

It doesn’t have to be this way, waiting for something or someone to make you happy. The rapture of your life doesn’t wait for the weekend, the perfect job, the right person or the right moment. It waits only for you to dive in and say yes right now.

It doesn’t have to be this way, overthinking and overanalysing everything. The sun will rise up every day for you to clench your fists and take a risk.

It doesn't have to be this way, the anxiety of making a choice. Every choice you make is the right one regardless of the outcome. Regardless of the mistakes. Regardless of the stuff ups.

It doesn't have to be this way.

It doesn't have to be this way.

It doesn't have to be this way.

Are you being important for someone else's reasons?

Are you important for someone else's reasons?

You took a degree because your parents or teachers told you to. Now you realise the three years of late nights and Red Bull to finish assignments wasn't worth it.

You bought a dress you just had to get because everyone else has it. Now you've thrown it at the back of the closet because it's outdated after a month.

You're in a relationship that works for him but leaves you feeling exhausted. There is no compromise and you wonder why you feel so insecure and lack self-love. 

You're in a job which makes it more comfortable to answer the question 'what do you do for a living?'. But every day you wake up and wish you were doing that other thing that only makes sense to you. 

You go to things on the weekend because it's easier than letting your friends down. But you constantly wake up on Mondays lacking fulfilment. 

You imitate art because it works for others and has made them successful. Yet you wonder why you're not 'successful' yet, ignoring the raw and juicy artist within you.

You say yes to everyone because it's too hard to say no. Yet you wonder why you feel so deflated and exhausted, with little time for yourself. 

You restrict yourself to follow diets and eating regimes. Yet you feel like shit and you swear you would be happier if you could just eat a damn burger without questioning it. 

You follow the crowd, agreeing to the same opinions, views and lifestyle choices because you don't want to be singled out. Yet you wonder why you feel so empty and hardly know yourself.

But you my dear, only belong to yourself.

And once you reclaim your originality. Your rawness. Your individuality.

The freedom, the choices, the courage, the discovery, the adventures, the thrills, the contentment and the bliss will shortly follow.

Losing my perfection

Losing my perfection.

I’d rather wear my hair out messy with my baby curls flying off my head because that’s when I’m most ready to embrace the day and express myself.

I’d rather not wear make-up, showing my freckles and lines that symbolise my age, what I’ve been through and how far I’ve come.

I’d rather make mistakes even though the embarrassment hurts sometimes, it’s the only way I come out the other side a stronger person.

I’d rather say no to people and seem selfish because I don’t care about looking like someone that can do it all.

I’d rather cry and share my vulnerabilities, it’s less painful than pretending I’ve got my shit together.

I’d rather be an artist that makes ends meet, enjoying the messiness and devotion that comes with self-exploration

I’d rather value family and my relationships because when I’m lying on my deathbed, the memories with them will be all that matters.

I’d rather drink coffee, red wine and cheese with my jelly belly, it fills me up with greater satisfaction over starving myself.

I’d rather live in the moment and deal with whatever comes because no matter how hard you plan, it doesn’t always turn out as expected.

I’d rather write a blog post with grammatical errors knowing it’s still going to inspire someone, over not publishing it at all.

I’d rather stop waiting for the right time and start now, because the journey is in the process, and I don’t want to live my life saying ‘one day’.

I’d rather speak up and disagree with my partner knowing it will strengthen our relationship, rather than stay silent over the fear he won’t love me anymore.

I’d rather count my friends on my five fingers over having many because they’re the ones that know the depths of my soul and answer the phone.

I’d rather talk about the hard times to inspire people, instead of over-delivering fake positivity.

I’d rather stuff up, laugh and apologise, over beating myself up that I didn’t do it right.

I’d rather have a wild wondering soul because to truly live without boundaries is the most beautiful gift in the world.

I’d rather be odd or different or weird or crazy or emotional to others because it’s a sign that I am being myself.

And when I’m being exactly who I am, at peace with all my imperfections, that is when I feel most alive.

According to life, it's your responsibility

The other week I had an argument with Nathan. It just happened to be after someone saw us snuggled on the beach and said ‘aww married life’. How ironic.

Before I even had the chance to tan my bum cheeks, I stormed home ahead of him, rushed through the door, threw my shit on the floor and hopped in a blasting cold shower. 

“Why would he do this” 

“Doesn’t he get it”

“I don’t want to feel like this”

“Why does this always happen at the last minute”

"Things never go to plan for me"

The agitation felt like bricks in the pit of my stomach.  I also felt sorry for the soap bar as I vigorously washed myself a thousand times over.

Then I had another genius idea. 

“Why don’t I distract myself by scrolling at all the happy people on Instagram?” That will make me happier.

Of course, it didn’t. There’s nothing more self-loathing than comparing yourself with everyone’s happy moments and hot bodies and overseas holidays and dream jobs and awesome lives. 

I pretty much wanted to bang my head into my phone after that.

Luckily I had to go to an event in twenty minutes. 'Great, I can just leave now and avoid it anyway.'

So out the door I went. But as I pulled up at the event and went to hop out my car, I still felt like a crap-burger. Not exactly the ideal scenario going into an event where I'm meant to manifest what I want in my life.

Before the evening started, I received a phone call from Nath. We spoke to each other and sorted it out in less than five minutes. Damn those chilled as a cucumber Capricorn husband's who know how to take the first adult step to solving an argument over their relentless Scorpio wife’s. 

But I can’t blame my Starsign, or my husband, or Instagram, or bad luck, or my job, or lack of time, or my parents, or even my damn period. 

I can't blame that dream job I didn't get in the past, that terrible relationship, that embarrassing experience, that friend who let me down or boss who was horrible to me.

Why?

Because at the end of the day, it’s entirely up to me to take responsibility for my experiences. 

It didn’t need to take a whole hour of eating self-loathing bullshit brownies, to sort out a problem that wasn’t really a big deal in the first place. 

Look I’m totally up for feeling all human emotions. If you’re angry at something and want to be angry for a few moments, so you should be.  You should never apologise for how you feel. 

But when it comes to actually dealing with it and moving forward, you are the master-gardener of your soul.

So you can choose to look after your garden one of two ways. You can convince yourself that you feed off anger. Convince yourself that it's everybody else's fault. Or the world is out to get you. Or life never runs smoothly for you. 

What that garden will look like if you do the above, is basically a big fucking jungle of weeds that grow off your fears.

Or you can look after your garden like this.

Admit you got angry, but know deep down you are the only person that can fix it. Know there’s a solution for the problem. Know that it’s not attached to you. Most people don't really mean to let you down and if they did, that's their karma to deal with. Know that in a week this won’t even matter. Know that only you have the power to decide what you want to experience.

What the garden will look like then, is a big lush sunflower field. Each sunflower represents a new story you’ve created for yourself. You decide to water those sunflowers with your strength and innate ability to look after every experience that comes to you - whether it’s exciting, hard or uncomfortable. 

And if you hate sunflowers, just find a new flower to visualise and stop blaming the goddamn sunflowers that have done nothing wrong to you. 

So if you’re really wondering why the same recurring cluster-fucks are happening in your life, stop looking outside for answers, and ask yourself instead. Because when you take responsibility, you realise it’s only your thoughts, actions and beliefs that control everything. 

What a liberating feeling that is.

 

Lessons from a cab driver

We jumped in a cab on Saturday night after one heck of a party at Hot Dub Time Machine (do yourself a favour and put it on your bucket list). Now here’s me thinking the night couldn’t get any better than listening to the greatest hits of all time including Aretha, Beetles, Beyonce, Dre and Daft Punk. Not to mention throwing massive medicine balls around a mosh pit with confetti going everywhere.

But boy oh boy I was wrong. 

We jumped in the cab with the whole ‘let's get some bloody Maccas (guilty) and get home’ vibe.  I was pretty exhausted after twisting and shouting like I was Ferris Bueller for three hours. But instead of an awkwardly silent cab ride, I spent the whole 45 minutes crying in fits of laughter with my sister in the back. 

It was all because of our cab driver.

We soon found out he was from Bangladesh. He had fluffy long hair and a beard, was wearing a ‘Taqiyah’ cap (thanks google) and glasses. Half of my amusement was watching him poke fun at Nathan in the front seat, saying he was an ugly bastard who talks to much (I think he was joking). We proceeded to the drive through at Maccas where he demanded a choc-top cone, only to fake cry when he had to settle for a sundae through the speakerphone. He said that he had been working for 24 hours and was as drunk as us (Again, hopefully joking). 

What got me the most about this guy was not the hat on his head, or his beard, or his colour. It was his smile, stupidly loud laugh, crazy antics, and lecturing Nathan about sleeping with his beautiful wife (I'll take that) and making babies when he get’s home. Okay maybe we let him down and only the first part happened. 

He said his greatest joy was his family. He said there is nothing like looking into the eyes of your beautiful two year son and blowing raspberries on his belly and squeezing his tush. He said there’s nothing like protecting your seventeen year old even though she bosses you around. 

I observed him whilst scoffing my fries, as he turned corners in the city screaming out the window ‘I love my job man’. This is a guy that probably has to put up with people spewing in his cab or thinking less of him at times, but clearly it doesn't bother him. He was legitimately happy.

He reminded us how lucky we are. In simple words he said ‘so many people complain in this place, yet where I am from, you live here and you realise how fucking lucky you are. Look outside, it’s just so beautiful, why be sad?’

Despite his passionate nuttiness, he was serious. He genuinely cared. To the point where he was willing to give us the cab ride for free. 

All he wanted in return was to be heard. Well trust me with his wise words, it wasn’t that hard. He finished what he wanted to say, let us be on our merry way, and left us better than he found us.

I don’t know whether I paid $43.00 for a comedic live show or a life coaching session. Either way, this man got me good.

There I was, a writer sitting in a car with a plumber who aspires to DJ in a club, an 18 year old having a gap year who doesn't know what she wants to study, and a Father who drives people around for hours.

But when it comes down to it, none of this is relevant. Because no matter where you're from, the hardships you’ve had, what you do for work or the journey you've travelled so far - he reminded me of something. 

Most folks are as happy as they make their minds up to be.

And if you aren’t happy with something, gear towards changing it. But do it with the inner peace and acceptance that you’re learning something from this transformation. It doesn’t have to be so ‘hard’. You simply cannot grow unless you allow yourself to evolve through anything and everything.

I came across this song recently and it sparked something in me. Because there’s a lot of things I’m hoping for right now. But what I’m also learning to develop is the kind of patience and passion to allow myself to simply BE, to simply LOVE and to simply eat Maccas and belly laugh in a cab ride.

It’s not a habit that can change overnight, but it is something you can choose in any given moment.

And I suggest you try it too.

Without it all, who are you really?

When I was seven I really wanted a Furby.

Want is an understatement. I couldn't wait a month for my birthday because all the kids in school already had one. Even when I was crying in the middle of the toy store my parents still wouldn't budge (good on em). Afterwards we drove to Taco Bell and in my furious state I locked myself in the car and refused to go in. Again my parents left me in there and didn't fuss (god they really were good). My protest lasted only twenty minutes but I was pretty proud of myself. Damn those delicious Tacos.

If you're wondering yes, I was a stinking brat for half of my childhood. I even had a singlet to prove it. It said 'Daddy's Little Brat'. But that's another story.

I whinged and moaned for that Furby for weeks.  I finally got it on my birthday, only to then put it down after five days and move onto the next thing. 

It wasn’t really what I wanted. It was just what everyone else had. It all started with a shitty advertisement that fooled me into believing I needed a fluffy bird that talked to have a better childhood.

It was the worst $80 my parents ever spent. They still won’t let me live it down.

When I was sixteen my hair was a mousey blonde colour. At the time I thought I looked like a schmuck. I used to flip through magazines and see pictures of models with white blonde hair and was captivated by their stunningness. I would also get jealous of girls at school that had perfectly blonde locks that had all of the boys fixated on them.

So what did I do? I bought a $13.95 Schwarzkopf blonde hair dye box and tried to do my own hair. Worst of all it was the first day back at school and low and behold - my hair was bright orange/yellow. Epic fail. If I wasn't already enough of a dork, my chances of any boy fixating themselves on me were even slimmer.

How many times have you been tried to upgrade yourself, only to turn around and realise it's not satisfying at all? Or end up feeling shit about it because it's not YOU at all?

Don't get me wrong, it's perfectly okay to 'want' certain things in life that bring us joy. Get the beautiful dress, go to the fancy restaurant or have the luxe holiday.

But what I'm asking is if all of this was taken away from you, would you still be satisfied to sit with yourself?

Because that's true happiness.

My point here is don't let the media tell you that you need to upgrade yourself to become a better person. Don't allow bullshit advertisements tell you that you aren't enough and need to have this and that. Don't let the world rob you of feeling good exactly as you are.

You don't need the latest gadgets to keep up with the crowd.

You don't need to buy the latest products in order to look better.

You don't need fame to be respected.

You don't need to lose weight to be loved.

You don't need make-up to be considered beautiful.

You don't need barbie blonde hair just because everyone else has it. 

I mean seriously, in twenty years time would you rather look back and say -

‘I’m so glad I valued my shoes, my dress, my phone, my hair my title and my Instagram pics?’

Or would you rather say, 

‘I’m so glad I valued my integrity, self-worth, authenticity, defining moments, adventures and creativity?’ 

With that being said, I tend to do things a little differently than I used to now.

I spend money on good times with friends rather than buying a ridiculous amount of clothes. 

I write about stuff that really matters to me, instead of what will get me more followers.

I prefer walking on the beach than walking around a shopping centre.

I care less about being a people pleaser, and enjoy being selfish with my life choices.

I work in a coffee shop despite people's comments that it's not a 'real job'.

I've swapped tight and extremely uncomfortable bandage dresses that stick to your arse, for beautiful flattering dresses that make me feel good. And for half the price.

I don't care if a place is Instagram worthy, I just want to go to places that inspire me to be the best version of myself.

I don't wear makeup everyday, and I'm okay leaving my house like that.

Because at the end of the day you can have it all, but the world is just going to keep telling you to upgrade yourself. 

And to sum it all up, I actually like myself now more than ever because I don't buy this bullshit anymore. Because it feels fucking invigorating to be yourself. 

So instead of wondering what your next online purchase will be, your hair colour, or what looks good on paper, I ask you this....

Are you brave enough to distinguish what you really want even if it goes against others? 

Are you willing to rebel societal standards in order to be true to yourself? Your soul?

Can you source your own happiness from your presence? 

Are you smart enough to rise above the things we’re told we must have or do in order to be respected or liked?

Do any of the above and you might actually just fall in love with yourself. For real.