Philippa Moore's Blog, page 18

departed australia

Ten years ago, I took the biggest leap of faith of my life.

In the lead up, I was permanently anxious, trembling inside, terrified of it all going wrong.

But I chose to push through that discomfort, for underneath it all was a wise, calm voice that told me I simply had to do this.  And I trusted that voice.

I couldn't have told you why. There was only a knowing that I had to listen, I had to trust. I couldn't explain it. Sounds dramatic, I know - it felt dramatic at the time. I was reeling from the breakdown of my marriage the year before, feeling restless and shaky-footed in Melbourne, like a baby giraffe learning to walk. Every step towards this dream felt so freaking hard. 

But healing is hard. Change is hard. Finding out who you really are is hard. Moving away from the familiar and into the unknown, alone, is hard. 

It didn't feel particularly brave at the time - it felt exhilarating, terrifying and a little bit reckless. I didn't know what I'd find on the other side. 

But I had to depart so I could arrive.

Whatever your dream, I hope you find a way to face your fears and make it happen. It's so very, very worth it. 

 

yes, and

Influence is a tricky thing. I think it starts with love, with resonance, with the exhilarating feeling that what you’ve read articulates something you’ve always felt but never had the words for. It’s reading something and jumping into the conversation to say, yes, it was this way for me too. Yes, and. The and is the writing. The and is the book that is your answer.

- Julie Buntin, from this article

something transformative

“I did not know what I was doing, and what I also did not know, facing my computer screen and a white wall, slowly turning pale, was that I was becoming a writer.

Becoming a writer was partly a matter of acquiring technique, but it was just as importantly a matter of the spirit and a habit of the mind.

It was the willingness to sit in that chair for thousands of hours, receiving only occasional and minor recognition, enduring the grief of writing in the belief that somehow, despite my ignorance, something transformative was taking place.”

 - Viet Thanh Nguyen in this article.

anzac day, 1949

We remember nothing. Maybe for a year or two. Maybe most of a life, if we live. Maybe. But then we will die, and who will ever understand any of this?"

- Richard Flanagan, The Narrow Road to The Deep North

The photo above is from my vintage photo collection, and was a gift to me from my friend Erin. On the back is scrawled in pencil, "Anzac Day 1949". Only four years after the end of the Second World War, when the horror of it all would have still been so fresh.

What did these young men see? What did they endure? And what happened afterwards, what sorts of lives did they go on to live? I look into the eyes and faces of these young men, too young, and can only imagine.

Photographs like this can hold hundreds of stories. I hope all of them got the chance to be told, and remembered.

the chaos of what we are

"......what I think you discover when you write stories is in the end you're just there to reflect what truth you can find in this life, not to try to pretend how life should be lived. I don't even know how to live my own life.

"In a novel you're allowed to open yourself to the chaos of what we are. It's hard to admit all the contradictions we're made of. We may believe this thing one moment and abandon it and believe the opposite the next. We can believe one thing, act another way and say a third.

"What you discover as a writer is you're not one person. There's an infinity of people in you, some much more admirable, others much more despicable."

- Richard Flanagan

35 things to do before I turn 36

Goodness, come May I am well and truly in my MID THIRTIES.

When the hell did that happen?

In my head, I'm still that 26 year old who left Australia with a backpack strapped on and so much hope and excitement in her heart.

So much has happened in those ten years. So much that I had to write a book about it! 

When I first arrived in London, this bustling hive of a city where even going to shops and taking the tube to work was a giddy adventure for a while, I had so much I wanted to do I didn't really know where to start, so I just dove in head first. I loved living like that.

But as the years have passed and my life here has undoubtedly become more domestic and started to grow roots (not that that's a bad thing), it's been very easy for things to pass me by and to put things off until later when I might have more time, money or energy. I feel like a madwoman sometimes, mentally possessed by ideas and projects and things I desperately want to do and get off the ground, and physically surrounded by detritus of my mental chaos, books, letters, receipts, plans, everywhere.

I want to get a handle on things. I want to recapture some of the free-spirited fun of my twenties, but start feeling organised and like I have a plan, as would befit a woman in her mid-thirties. Gulp! 

No matter what age I have been, I hasten to add, I have yearned to be organised, socially useful, present and making the most of things. So with that in mind, I've come up with a few (well, 35) things to do in the next five weeks that will contribute greatly to that feeling! 

So, here we go. 

Declutter my phone - back up, organise and delete photos; back-up poems written in notes, etcRun 10k (either on my own or with my running group)Write more lettersMake a wedding album (finally!) Read an Edith Wharton novel (I know, terrible!)Plant my cavolo nero, courgette, radish, french beans, kohlrabi and tomato seedsKeep bloggingKeep meditatingBecome a member of Kew GardensDeclutter my study and reorganise my bookshelvesGet another parkrun PBBuy some smart and comfortable work shoes that I can wear in spring, summer and autumn (I'm covered with winter shoes!)Treat myself to another oracle deckGet a haircut/colourPitch that *top secret thing* to *you know who*Get my favourite (broken!) statement necklace fixed/restrungGet a trolley to keep my makeup inGet a pedicure (well overdue!)Learn how to make a potato fondantClean out my tea cupboard (and treat myself to some new ones!)Subscribe to the London Review of BooksOrganise my vintage photo collectionFind another yoga class (and start going regularly)Book our anniversary holidayCall the ATO (boring but necessary)Buy a new teapotGo out for dumplings See a live comedy showRedecorate and declutter bedroomGo to the National Portrait GalleryGo to Maltby Street marketsTake a hiphop or Beyonce style dance classFinish my current journal and start a new oneBuy a new jacket in a bright colourTry a new restaurant 

If I manage to do all of them, it's going to be a fun and productive month!

heart in two places

We brought this drop dead gorgeous Tasmanian pinot noir back from our trip last year, and had kept it at a balmy controlled 13 degrees in our wine fridge since. We had a few things to celebrate this weekend so we felt it was as good a time as any to crack open the Pooley. With a Bee Gees album spinning on the record player and this wine in my glass, I half expected my dad to walk in from the garden. Such is life, with your heart in two places, in the blossom of spring and the bramble of autumn. 

I hope your weekend is full of delicious things.

to have succeeded

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and to endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

even against the odds

I wrote a lot - and learned a lot - while I interned at Cosmopolitan UK nearly five years ago. Even though I did Fifty Shades-style workouts, made pasta like a pro and even got to see the Iceman in South Tyrol, this story is still the one I'm most proud of.

This year's London Marathon is on Sunday and I remember both my own race in 2011 and Anna and Vicky's incredible feat of running from Paris to London (eight marathons in eight days!) to celebrate life and raise awareness for a good cause with lots of fondness and pride. 

Read their story here and make sure you scroll down to the bottom to see the video interview with Vicky and Anna (I am the silent interviewer....crying silent tears!)

I really love revisiting this story every now and then. You really are stronger than you think. And even when you think it's the end, it's really not. There's always a way forward.

nothing is more difficult for me than writing

Yesterday, Heather Rose won the Stella Prize for her  magnificent novel The Museum of Modern Love. Her acceptance speech is also a glorious read - funny, humble and powerful. It resonated with me so much and has given me fresh courage to return to my work in progress. You can read the speech in full here.