Category Archives: On Hope

On Hope

The Wishing Tree

wishing-tree

It’s that time of year again. The new time of year. We look back, we look forward, and we look at where we are. We start sentences with, ‘This time last year…’ and see how far we’ve come.

I stumbled across a wishing tree soon after moving to Vancouver, and it stopped me in my tracks. It was fascinating and often heart-rending to look at the hopes people had hung there for anyone to read. In a way, when we look forward to a new year, it’s like decorating a fresh wishing tree with longing for the fruit we’d like it to bear. We reflect on our lives and revise our plans. We dream. But for our trees to flourish and our dreams to come to fruition, we need to do more than plant them, more than just write them down. We need to nurture them. We need to give them life, light and room to grow.

When I look back on last year, I came a pretty long way in terms of distance, but not in terms of dreams. While business smiled upon me and adventures were around every corner, I didn’t write as much as I wanted. And that was no one’s fault but my own. However, I have to let that go now. That’s last year’s tree. I didn’t water it enough. But I can change that this year.

And it’s not like I have lost anything. The time wasn’t wasted. I lived so much life last year, saw so many new places, experienced so many incredible things. Took so many pictures. I’ve heard those actually say a thousand words, and if that’s the case, perhaps I can claim I actually wrote a hell of a lot, just not in the way I envisioned.

But, like I said, that’s last year. Let’s look at where I am. Am I happy? Yes. Am I further than I was? Yes. Am I free to move forward? Yes. So that’s a start.

What of the year to come? I want to continue to immerse myself in beautiful places, in discovery, adventure and nature, but I need to find more words to go with the pictures. I need to find my voice again. I want my writing to thrive, wherever I’m living, whatever I’m doing.

I’ll keep snapping, appreciating every remarkable moment in time, but I want to move on with things as well as around places. I want to leave more of myself for someone to pick up and read. My published works consist of an only child at the moment, and that was never the plan. So this is the year I pull my trilogy together and climb my wishing tree, reaching the hopes and dreams hanging from its branches. Because I bet the view from the top is spectacular.

What are your resolutions? Can you let go of last year and nurture your dreams?

The Year Of Resolve & The Hunt For The Holy Grail

Kiwi

My hard-fought shot of the elusive Okarito Kiwi

Out on the wild west coast of New Zealand’s South Island, there’s a wee place at the edge called Okarito. It is beautiful, mostly beach and bush, and it hides the Holy Grail – its own species of brown kiwi (smaller than a unicorn but larger than a dragon’s egg), along with a guide who’s actually sanctioned by DOC to help people catch sight of the elusive critter. I was there only a couple of magic days and mysterious nights, but it pretty much summed up the year for me: I was on a mission.

The guided tour to see the country’s most famous resident was fully booked, but never one to say never, I took myself out into the bush in the middle of the night to find one for myself. The maiden voyage saw me venturing out with an elite team of highly-trained explorers (a pair of likeminded souls who fancied the thrill of the mythical chase, highly skilled in the art of Googling a kiwi’s call before braving the dark). The second night, I went solo. It was same, same, but different. Same – in that the kiwi avoided me, not even so much as calling out to tease at it had on the first expedition. Different – in that I’d forgotten I was terrified of possums and had no one to giggle with nervously in the pitch black when they swooped out of the forest to eat me alive (wait, that was the sandflies; the possums stood there and tried to put the evil eye on me. Sneakier than direct attack.)

I’d driven past the sign to Okarito more than once, distracted by the monumental glaciers to its right. But I was so glad I finally found it and its beautiful beach house. During the days, I filled the wait for kiwi O’clock with other things. Like cycling Enid along the empty roads, visiting Andris Apse’s home to see his beautiful gallery and learn his incredible story, climbing the Trig, walking on the beach to watch the sun set behind the headland, and sailing the lagoon.

There were other things to see. Life went on. Life turned up. In the dark, I didn’t just dodge the perilous possums, I saw glowworms blinking in the black, and I could only see them because the lights were out. On the lagoon, I saw the kind of mirrored reflections I thought could only exist in paintings. I took a boat tour with Franz Josef Glacier, Mt Cook and Mt Tasman as a backdrop, and though I didn’t see a kiwi in Okarito, a startling array of other birdlife popped by to say hello, including tui, oyster catchers, black swans & their cygnets, a great white heron and a bunch of bar-tailed godwits. These guys fly about ten days straight from Alaska without stopping or eating just to hang out there – the least I could do was be happy to see them.

And, while I didn’t sight the Holy Grail of mythical creatures, hearing the kiwi call gave me hope. They are out there – fighting outrageous odds, given the invasion of their lands by forces of evil committed to their extinction (that’d be those possums again). Now I know where the sign is. And the guide (whose services I’d recommend, having cornered him in his own home to demand photographic evidence, ending up discussing my quest at length while his cup of tea got cold). I’ll be back.

This time last year, I was down. But I wasn’t out. I’d lost something precious. But I was on a mission. A mission to hunt happiness – that elusive Holy Grail that life’s possums are always trying to do away with. So I didn’t indulge too far my sorrow for that which was gone. I didn’t turn my face only backward to mourn or only forward to search for a distant date when I would feel better and could begin to have a ball again (it was something like May 7th). I turned my face from side to side and looked all around. And even though Happiness didn’t magically, immediately appear, I saw beauty in the moments I did so. Life went on. I went out and lapped it up. I laughed. I faked it for a time, sure. But this year just gone, I fell in love again. I fell in love with the life all around me – and my own life just as it is, looking to no one else to make it amazing except myself. (It helped that the mountains saw snow the likes of which hadn’t been boarded in several seasons.)

This year I have seen lambs genuinely frolicking – hopping and skipping like bizarre ballet dancers. Fish jumping, like funny jack-in-the-boxes. Baby seals paddling, a waterfall their playpen. I have heard tui warbling and kiwi calling, waves lapping and wind howling. I’ve smelt the smoke of campfires and courageous cooking. I’ve tasted salt in the sea breeze and touched sand and snow, rock and rain.

Are you a new year’s resolutions kind of person? I am. And I usually win at them. But last year, I had to start below scratch and resolve just to find some resolve. It’s there if you want to hunt it down – just dig deep.

It’s a new year. A lot of us are looking at fresh starts (whether we wanted them or not). Find your resolve. Be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. And don’t just look back or forward – look around you. Appreciate what you see. And see the signs. Take the turns. Hope will be there. And magic might happen.

A moment of reflection in Okarito

A moment of reflection in Okarito

1000 Voices For Compassion: A Stranger Held Me In The Street

1000Speak

Image Credit: www.theqwietmuse.com

Today is a special day. Over one thousand bloggers all over the world are raising their voices in chorus on the subject of compassion, under the label #1000Speak. They hope to inspire readers to think about it, to delve into its many facets, to ponder its meaning and makeup… But, above all, to show it. To practise as well as preach.

Over the last month of build-up, I’ve been amazed reading the compassionate content that’s ensued since the idea seeded, meeting like-minded people brought together by this common cause – championing something good in this world that is sometimes so cruel.

Then, last week, I fell out the loop a little. I moved country, again. Found a temporary home, again. I picked up old threads and more than one G&T and tried not to crash and burn in the process of coming back to a place where circumstances used to be so different, trying to block all the punches that unwelcome changes can hail on your heart. I also had some fun.

I am not embarrassed to admit that I feel things deeply. And, while we often go around trying to present our best faces to the world, sometimes we can only survive by being brutally honest, with others and with ourselves. In the circles I’ve become a part of since I started my writerly journey to authordom (fame and fortune to follow), I’ve seen people bare their souls on screen more often than I can count, not least through #1000Speak, and it is a good thing. A powerful thing.

Think about the painful things that have happened to you. Everybody has them, to whatever degree. For better or worse, these experiences, along with the good, make us who we are.

Have you ever seen someone crying in the street? Have you averted your gaze, thinking they’d rather not be bothered? Have you pitied, or even scorned? Have you really seen them, this other person who has a life just as you have a life? And have you wondered what it is they’re going through that it would evoke such a public display of their sorrow? Have you wondered out of voyeurism or from the heart? Have you stopped, or just stared and walked on, caught up in your own problems?

Reaching out to someone may be rebuffed; it certainly may not help with the actual issue. But it may make that someone realise that things might just be okay.

Compassion is the moment a stranger holds you in the street while you cry and tells you everything is going to be all right. Just living in a world where a complete unknown would interrupt their natural absorption in their own life and the lives of their nearest and dearest to reach out an unsolicited but comforting hand makes me hopeful, despite all the horrible, ugly things that can happen around us.

Use your experience of pain to make you more sympathetic to others and what they might be going through, whether they show their heart on their sleeve or not. When the same treatment – empathy, kindness, comfort – is accorded to you, you realise how much it counts. Humankind has capacity for great evil, but it also has limitless capacity for compassion. Show some compassion in your everyday life: to yourself, to your friends, to your colleagues, to a stranger on the street. And everything will be all right.

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In the run up to publishing this post, amongst the scores of compassionate content starting to hit the webs, I clicked on Dani’s story first because I caught sight of the title. Would you like to read the other side? Would you ever hug a total stranger and mean it?

It’s not too late to get involved.

To join the group and meet the movement, go here: 1000 Voices for Compassion Facebook Group

To sing and dance together on Twitter, tweet #1000Speak.

#1000Speak - Listen

A is for Adelaide, B is for Beauty, C is for Compassion

#1000Speak

I came to Adelaide three months ago, a little bit broken. I’m leaving now, a little, well, less so.

This is due in part to an unwillingness just to curl up in a corner and not participate in the world, in part to the uplifting beauty to be found all around, but, most of all, it is due to compassion.

Compassion is someone holding out their hands rather than putting them behind their back. It is someone offering you their home rather than muttering a platitude. And then putting up with you every day in that home, while you un-mire yourself.

It is patience; it is kindness; it is observance. It is empathy; it is companionship; it is hope.

The world is a mess. It is depressing. Sometimes, it seems hopeless. The news is overwhelming. The small hurts and the big hurts form a league of reasons to bury your head in the sand.

I read a post a few days ago that made me dig myself out of the sand, because I saw others sitting up, taking note, and doing it too. Within a week, there are so many people digging that tunnels through the world, connecting all sorts of countries and people have appeared. Pop through those tunnels and you find writers worth knowing – because a common strand has resonated with them and tied them together. And it’s the idea of compassion.

Showing compassion, and talking about it, writing about it, championing it – this is one way to make the right mark on the wall of the world. It is one way we can lift up the people around us, rather than trampling them, rather than ignoring them. It is a call to action. So that more and more people can feel the vibrations, pop their heads out of their sand patches, and start digging themselves.

Join us on 20th February 2015 when 1000 voices will speak out for compassion.

To join the group and start digging, go here: 1000 Voices for Compassion Facebook Group

To read some background, go to meet Lizzi, who first popped her head out the sand, and go to meet Yvonne, who picked up the first shovel.

To sing and dance together on Twitter, tweet #1000Speak.

There And Back Again – Finding Direction In 2015

Sydney Harbour Bridge, Midnight 31/12/14

Sydney Harbour Bridge, Midnight 31/12/14

Happy new year! Here we are in 2015 and I hope it’s a wonderful one for you all! The festive road trip has finished and I’m back in Adelaide with much more movement to look forward to. And who knows where I’ll end up? I certainly don’t.

But that’s not a bad thing. A steady state has its comforts and attractions, but life has been a wonderful whirlwind since I left London three and half years ago, and the volatile roller coaster doesn’t seem about to stop. Coming to the beginning of a new year and looking back as well as forward – life has more highs than lows. Sometimes you just have to seek them out. Sometimes you need to take a shovel.

All I know is that it was a brilliant idea to end up in Sydney to see out the old year and in with the new – with the biggest of bangs. I adore fireworks and want to live my life like one – going off in all directions, popping, fizzing, delighting, colourful, crazy and illuminating. It doesn’t matter which way you’re going as long as you’re causing a ruckus on the way, filling as many lives as possible with light, laughter and love.

Many people will have so much they want to achieve this year, having achieved so much already – best of luck with it. Just don’t forget to stop, look around you, smell the roses, watch the sunsets, notice others, and leave the people you pass the happier for having known you. Strive as much as you like, but enrich those around you as well as yourself. Sing and dance, but invite others to add their voices and join the foxtrot. Put being plentiful in the soul before the pocket, and share.

Technically, ’tis the eleventh day of Christmas (who knew the twelve days start rather than end on Christmas day?!). So here’s a parting gift from my lovely friend and wonderful illustrator’s collection. As the familiar festive sights and scents fade away for another year, remember to keep the spirit of Christmas around and enjoy the whole twelve months ahead giving, loving and hoping. Everyone will have a better time for it.

What do you hope for this year? I hope it finds you.

Eleven Pipes Piping

(c) 2013 NKW-Illustration. All Rights Reserved.

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Looking for something new to read this year? Enter the world of The Night Butterflies and join the search for hope amidst horror…002.5_Night Butterflies

Happy Anniversary, Right Ink On The Wall – How To Party With Very Inspiring Bloggers

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It’s my one-year ‘blogiversary’ here at Right Ink On The Wall and what better way to celebrate than with an award?!

The Very Inspiring Blogger Award

This shiny award has been bestowed upon me by the lovely Deborah Makarios, who was one of the first ever readers & commenters here on my blog. This was back at the beginning, when I knew her only as Sinastra Inksteyne (and I still haven’t met a better pen name!). I’m always wildly happy when new people from around the interweb pop up and comment, because it means get to discover them. Deborah’s blog is an eccentric and aesthetic place to be, never more so than when slaying Jabberwocks and exploring fantastical taxidermy. And I will be forever grateful to her for being a guinea-pig beta reader for The Night Butterflies and providing such valuable feedback.

This here award has some rules:

1) The nominee shall display the Very Inspiring Blogger Award logo on her/his blog, and link to the blog they got nominated from.

2) The nominee shall nominate fifteen (15) bloggers she/he admires, by linking to their blogs and informing them about it.

My Nominees

My nominees needn’t feel pressured to accept this award (I know these accolades aren’t everyone’s cup of tea), but it makes me so happy to have been hailed as inspiring – it means I’m making the right mark, and I’d love to let you know whose writing out there fills me with energy, happiness and hope. So without more ado, the following are some of the wonderful, inspirational folk I’ve met since starting this blogging malarky (in alphabetical order – just because):

Anne R Allen is just wonderful, full of sage writing/blogging/living advice and witty charm. A perfect example is this post, of which wise writers take note – 12 Dumb Things Writers Do To Sidetrack Our Own Success.

Aussa Lorens makes me laugh every single time she hits publish. I was lucky enough that she found me and left a comment here when she’d just started blogging, so I ended up getting to read every one of her blog entries in real time. She’s known as Hacker Ninja Hooker Spy for a reason – and if that doesn’t intrigue you I don’t know what will! There are 5 parts to this particular strand, but I dare you to stop reading. It starts with one of four Cross Examinations

Barbara Glass is new to this interwebious world of blogging, but she’s a natural. She inspires me with her humorous take on life, sharing off-kilter stories like this one – The Ancient Order of _ilts, _ettles & _ites (also known as a story not using the letter ‘K’).

Christina Anne Hawthorne is one of the loveliest ladies you’ll meet on the internet. She writes fantasy and she’s also a talented, published poet. This is one of my favourite poems – Fire.

Helena Hann-Basquiat has a way of twining fact and fiction together to form Truth that is as unique as it is entertaining. I was honoured to host her here when she released her three-part story Postcards from California. But I first discovered her with a two-parter Valentine’s Day post, which blew me, and the rest of WordPress, away – I Know Very Well How I Got My Name.

Jami Gold is many wonderful things and one of the most wonderful is a fantastic teacher. She doesn’t just write about craft – she is incredibly generous with her time, resources and expertise and actively helps you become a better writer. Jami’s posts also ask brilliant questions, like this one – Do our favourite stories read as children affect our writing as adults?

Kat Kinnie is just an all-round inspirational person; merely being around her words means you absorb positive energy, as if by osmosis. It was she who suggested I start a blog in the first place. This is one of my favourite posts by her, in complete harmony with the mission of my business, encouraging people to write words on the wall of the world – Dare To Dream.

Kelly Roberts loves bubble wrap. But there is oh-so-much more to her than that. She tells stories from life with wit and wisdom (and,  yes, bubble wrap). Here’s one of my favourite posts – Declaration of Independence… From Bucket Lists.

Kristen Lamb is my hero. She founded WANA (which stands for We Are Not Alone), a community of writers supporting each other, playing together, and learning from one another. Many names on this page would be lost to me had I not discovered Kristen and her wonderful work and way of bringing welcoming, friendly, talented people together for fun like WANACon. Here is an example of how she socks it to you in just one of her powerful posts – Are You A ‘Real’ Writer? Is This Even The Correct Question? 

Kristine Kathryn Rusch is an incredible writer. Her stories take me somewhere else and stop me breathing. Every Monday, she gives a short one away – it’s on the site for a week, or you can sign up to have it arrive by email. And if you’re a writer yourself, the resources she’s written and made available are incomparable. Here’s a passionate post that proves my point – Storytelling. And, just because I can – here’s the link to tempt you with one of my all-time favourite short stories – Folk Lure.

Marcy Kennedy is a brilliant writer and beyond-valuable editor. She has a Masters in theology, like me. I loved the way she posed a recent question on her blog by tying it in with the latest X-Men movie – Do You Believe In Fate or Free Will? The suspense eBook mentioned at the end, Frozen, knocked my socks off, and not in a Disney way.

Myndi Shafer is an awesome indie author. She inspires me because she’s killing it writing and publishing books like Shrilugh and Hanna, Hanna, One-And-Two and because she writes posts like this one – Five Things That Make Me Smile.

Piper Bayard is a thrilling writer who writes one of the most unique blogs I’ve come across with her partner, ex-intelligence operative Holmes. It’s so sharp it will cut you and leave a scar. This is one of my favourite shocking ‘The End is Near’ posts – The End Is Near (And We Deserve It)… Funeral Selfies.

Sara Letourneau is not only someone with a brilliant name but someone I will be forever happy to have met. She writes fantasy and blogs about music, tea, books, craft – she knows so much about so much! She is a soul after my own heart and someone who spent an amazing amount of time beta-reading for me, providing detailed feedback worthy of a paid edit – and then even wrote an article on manuscript critique based on the experience!

Through The Wardrobe is a blog offering beautifully written, honest book reviews by Libby, who explores books like special treats while working in publishing and gaining a Masters in children’s literature. One of my favourite non-review posts is a touching call-to-arms on a subject close to my heart and former home – The Beauty of The Independent Bookshop.

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Happy Birthday To Me!

So it’s been one year of blogging. Wow. I really don’t know how it happened. Since realising, I’ve flapped about a bit, wondering what to say about it all. Going from the suggestion of starting a blog to having amassed a year’s worth of weekly entries feels like quite an achievement. Before I started, I wondered what I’d ever find to write about, but a lot of life happens on a weekly basis, and sometimes posts even write themselves. As with so many things in my life, I didn’t have a plan, so didn’t organise categories, but I’ve been back over my plethora of posts and seen them slot into subject matter much in line with what I envisioned back at the very beginning – happiness, hope, a bit about books, a bit about business, and a bit about making the world a better place. I’m going to round this off by saying to you now what I said to (significantly fewer of) you then:

One of the messages of these posts is that hope without action is futile. If we want to change something in our lives, or change everything about our lives, we have to do something about it. I spent a lot of time moaning about things and hoping that things would be better one day. It was a bit of an epiphany when I realised I could do anything I wanted to and that the only thing stopping me was myself.

I (still) like the blogs that end on a question. I’m going to ask my anniversary question every year: What do you hope for? And what are you going to do about it? I currently hope to be a published author… And I’ve just ordered my ISBNs…

There Is Another World, My Love

Something a little different today. I wrote a poem for a friend and I’d like to share it. He’s losing his soul mate to cancer and I wish there were something, anything that could be done. My heart is full. It goes out to them and everyone who has been through or is going through the same heartache of losing the one you love.

543367_10100428965122620_1396549994_nFor Robert & Eileen

There is another world, my love

A world that’s free of pain

Hold me in your heart, my dear

It’s where we’ll meet again

Life is cruel you see, my sweet

Who knows it more than we?

But hold my hand, my darling one

In no time you’ll be free

I’ll follow you, my soul’s delight

Don’t ever think I’ll fail

Trust that thought, my dearest heart

I’m not the sort to bail

There is another world, my love

A world that’s free of pain

Hold me in your heart, my dear

It’s where we’ll meet again

Sara Litchfield © 2014 All rights reserved.

Nelson Mandela & Saying The Right Thing

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I will keep this brief. It’s one of those times when silence is too little, but words are not enough. If anyone has made the right mark on the wall of the world, it is Nelson Mandela. Today is a happy sad day – it is happy because Mandela died having lived out his life. He lived to see the effects of the marks he made and work he did. He died free, leaving the world a better place. Rest in peace.

Warm Bodies & Writing People Off

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‘That’s why we have memory. And the opposite of memory – hope.

So things that are gone can still matter.

So we can build off our pasts and make future’

Isaac Marion – Warm Bodies

Zombie romance – I didn’t realise that it was out there. And then I was told to watch Warm Bodies, a movie I enjoyed very much and, now that I’ve realised it’s a book, a book I’m going to read. Here’s the link to the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07s-cNFffDM

We all know that people can change. Some bemoan that people they know won’t change back to the way they were before. Others bemoan the fact that people they know refuse to change. The consensus is that change is possible. But have you ever tried to change someone’s mind? Some people embrace zombiehood and seem constantly out to get you – hang around too long and they’ll eat your brains. It’s only healthy to avoid people who are out to eat your brains, but I think it’s necessary to take into consideration that you shouldn’t write off those people. Everyone’s important. No one is a write-off. 

You’d think that turning into a zombie would be the end of the matter, but Warm Bodies explores the possibility of change. Change and hope. Zombies can have dreams too – they just need to remember how. In the movie, a bit of love brings that about. 

Is anyone out there eating your brains? Do they not understand your dreams so they’re trying to quash them? Are you banging your head against a brick wall trying to change their mind? Do you wonder if they’re dead inside?! Sometimes it takes something major to change someone… But throw some love at them, even if you have to do it from a distance. And don’t write them off, you never know – they might change.

Fishing & Wishing

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‘If wishes were fishes, there’d be no room in the river for water’

– Russian Proverb

I’m very much looking forward to the forthcoming fishing season over here. Winter is drawing to a close and the promise beckons of longer days and sunny weekends away. I’ll miss the snow and be sad to be putting aside my board and boots… But I’m happy to be picking up a rod and net in the near future. I experienced my first fishing season and took on the role of Fishing Support last summer, pattering around after my partner in brine. I enjoyed freshly-caught and campfire-cooked salmon and trout in reward for perching peacefully in spots including those pictured above, a book in one hand and a net in the other, poised for action. I found fishing surprisingly exciting and deliciously rewarding last season, I’m eager for more of the same.

And now for the metaphors. There were many days we fished away, only to come back with nothing – lost lures and broken lines the only achievements. There were other days we made the catch, only for the critter to get away. On each and every day, there was little point standing still, hoping for a nibble. It was necessary to cast and recast; wander and reposition; cast and recast. There was actually much more movement involved than I had anticipated, which meant, along the way, I discovered beautiful places I  would otherwise never have seen. And such is life. Wishes are like fishes and if we hope for a wish to come true, we need to be moving; casting and recasting; not giving up, regardless of the lost lines and the fish that got away. We won’t always come away empty-handed if we persevere.

A wish is a hope. A hope is a dream. A dream is a possibility. It’s possible because you’ve imagined it. What do you wish for? Don’t just wish for a fish – go fish for it.