You know you are burn out when you reach for a slab of salami as a snack. My brain is a whirlpool of confusing conflicting contradicting thoughts. I have not been writing as much as I usually do, henceforth, thoughts and words are getting all jammed up, like an unserviced car full of old crud oil and dusty filters. My words need to be expelled, to spill forth, to take new shape, and to get the fuck out of my head. They say writing brings clarity, so here goes. Clarity come at me you big hairy untameable beast.

There is lots to write about, and I will attempt to do so in some semblance of sequential order. But like usual, I will trail off, come back, go around corner, open this door, peak through the other door, and in the end it will be really satisfying. Mostly for me, but hopefully for you as much as me. You are welcome, sorry not sorry.

This week on my blog a comment popped up from a friend I made on a Greek Island where I travelled earlier this year. It has motivated me to write this morning. I was wandering in a dazed state of awe at the time, post grief teary confusion, and on a general idle walkie, when I stumbled across this cute little bar; I felt drawn to it immediately. Stopping for a frothy iced coffee, they do so well on the islands of Greece, I engaged in this really connected conversation about life and death and love for our Mums, and it was awesome. This lovely lass commented to say thanks and how much she liked my blog. Oh, so nice. These little warm fuzzy moments remind me how much I love to write and how travelling, and writing are such excellent forms of connection, communication and understanding of ourselves and those around us. We are really all connected, we are just all too distracted to realise. Life is so serendipitous. I love that word btw.

Which brings me to my next point. Currently I am hosting a lovely man from Honduras. Not only did he bring me the best tasting coffee I have ever been blessed to experience, and I swear it is laced with cocaine, as it makes me crazy, but in a good way crazy, can you tell I have already had a few cups of the sweet brew already?… but he has brought a refreshing new perspective to my life. And this is why I love meeting new people. They are often brimming with pearls of wisdom, and I honestly believe the universe sends us these little mysterious packages of joy to teach us, or to smack us in the face with awareness, insight and thought. It’s working so far. This guy is a genius. A new agey kind of one.

He is on a spiritual path. My radar picked it up intuitively, without verbal communication, I placed some of my best spiritual books in his room for some light bed time reading, somehow intuiting he may be interested in the ‘The Way of the Peaceful Warrior’ or ‘The Monk Who Sold his Ferrari’. And he was into them, he ate them up. And spilled forth jewels of wisdom. I am listening, and absorbing, and trying to push past the incessant thoughts and blocks and all that other shit in my head getting in the way of enlightenment. He is into meditation. I am kind of too, when I don’t fall asleep because I am so fucking exhausted from my day job. Life is full on, but only if you choose it to be. If only I could throw the shackles of commitment and life and all those freaking decisions somewhere deep into the ocean. Argh! Anyhow, it’s all good. Breathing is important as is taking a step back, and moving away from that knob of salami. A different kind of knob, but still a knob.

You know you have gone down hill when you are enjoying snacking on salami. Fuck me. Actually no don’t, because I can not even bare to take my clothes off right now. I have gone from slinky skinny gorgeousness way back in that hot steamy Turkish bath years ago, frolicking so happy in the nude (remember this post? Nude nude nude), to pudgy sludgy couch puff. How did it all happen? Let’s blame stress, let’s blame full time teaching, let’s blame those knobs of salami, oh and maybe a recent devotion to ice magic and vanilla ice cream. When was the last time you actually had salami? You can literally see the speckles of fat looming at you, ready to implant themselves in your wobbly womanly thighs forever. You know your diet has completely turned to shit when you start thinking snacking on salami is a good idea. Fuck no. I need to bring back my obsession for freshly squeezed juices, or something not processed animal eyeballs and arseholes. Seriously Anit get your shit together.

Breathe. We forget to even when we know we should do it more. Deep breaths are rare, and so is all that running I used to do. Man, I would struggle to run around the block right now. And that is disappointing, but not irreversible. This is the beauty of the human body, it can be stretched and pulled and pushed and exerted and relaxed and really turn into many different shapes, if we allow it. We can get back to ideal, somehow. We can get back to our ideal forms, all of us. Look at those legendary master athletes performing this past week in the Masters Olympics. Men and women in the eighties and nineties running, jumping, frigging skipping happily and healthily over finish lines, now that is an inspiration. I bet they don’t eat salami. At least I have stayed off booze, now that is an accomplishment. Next I have to ween myself off that salami, get off the couch more, and find some stored energy lost deep within those previous mentioned lady lumps.

Cheers to the weekend, cheers to stored energy, and cheers to knobs of salami. So good but so so bad. Sounds like most knobs I know.

Anita xx

P.S. Hope this made you laugh as much as it made me smile. I would love to hear your thoughts, on life, on salami, on anything really, just say hello. I love a good hello!