Last week I visited my father for the first time in a while. If you have read my book, Death by Chocolate Cake, you will know that our relationship is not healthy. From as early as I can remember I have been afraid of his moods. Most of my adolescent memories are filled with his criticism of me. Always falling short of his expectations has left me with feelings of inferiority and rejection. I am certainly not his favourite child, and I have witnessed better treatment of others, so I do know he could be kinder.

Sadly, my visit was not any different from those in the past. Why should I have expected any different? At nearly 98, he is not about to change.  I have spent much of my life trying to prove my worth to him and competing with my sisters for his attention, but his eyes cannot see what others see in me. I know I am not the only one in this boat. Like any child, I long for a loving relationship with my father, but it is not to be. Why did I visit him? Because, despite our poor relationship, I love him. I will always love him, and I will always hurt for him and for myself.

This was a sobering visit. I had hoped he would sense my love for him, but he has decided that I have not done as much as others to prove my love. Deep within me there has always been hope that this would change, but I guess at 98, it’s too late. My only hope is that his choices don’t make his last days more miserable than they need be.

Over the years I have learned that his treatment of me does not determine my response to him.  Even though he treats me with indifference, I can still love him, because what I feel is MY love for him. Even though he treats me badly, I can still love him because love is my reason for living. In fact, this choice is less painful than the alternative of anger and bitterness. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of bitterness about the situation, mixed with jealousy and self-pity. But I have found that getting in touch with my real feelings has shown me how much I can love, and this love is healing.

In love, Jenny

This week I was confronted by the fragility of life. A close friend lost a family member. Having lost my mother and brother who were both around my age at the time, this brought home to me how fragile we all are, including myself. Despite my family struggles, I love them a great deal and often grieve over them. I have worked hard to improve my own health, but I know that my body will at some point give way to my strong genetic tendencies.

In our society we are taught to hide our feelings and present a strong front to the world. And this is what I tried to do for so long. But eventually I realised I was miserable on the inside and not living my truth. Appearing to have it together was not the antidote for my feelings of worthlessness, depression, and failure. I compared myself to others and felt like a failure. When instead my life would have been happier if I had allowed myself to see through the front we all hide behind and find the freedom to be me.

We often hear that life is short, and we are only here for a little while. Life is a gift, it is not a right, nor is it to be wasted. I have sought to live my life motivated by love. This has not always been easy, but it has been worth it. I don’t know how long I will be earth-side, so while I am here, I want to do good for others. Perhaps in some small way what I have been through could help someone else. So, I set my intention for this purpose: to keep my eyes on love, all that is good and all that is pure. Ultimately, this has given me the peace and assurance that all things come together in the end.

There is always hope, so let’s live our life to the fullest and in a way that benefits others and brings contentment to our soul.

This picture is of my boy who constantly reminds me that love is all that matters.

In love, Jenny

When I was young flypaper was commonly used as a fly trap. It involved a sticky strip of paper which hung from the ceiling, usually the light in the centre of the room. Flies were attracted to the paper and would get stuck. Over time the strip would be covered with bugs who had been lured to the trap only to be caught in its glue. These traps are still available at local supermarkets.

This week I was reminded of this type of trap when I became aware of the impact of my own guilt. Guilt is a trap which attracts rubbish which sticks to it. Let me explain. My early years taught me that I was not worthy, should be apologetic for my existence and to remember my place beneath others. Insects are attracted to this and stick to my guilt which becomes covered with these.

The insects are triggers. All it takes is a reminder that am not worthy in some way, or that I am less than another to activate this trap. My guilt is made heavier as I fail to let the negative comments and treatment of others, albeit some innocent, roll off.  Over time I have bent forward and hunched over to accommodate this guilty burden. As the burden increases, I feel like a failure and become ashamed of myself. The trap has worked; it has set me up to accept further attacks of the same type. Because. the treatment seems familiar, I take it on, reinforcing the original belief.

Insects or flies are unwanted, just like hurtful comments or treatment. Sometimes there is no intention to harm, but not always. There will always be those who wish to lay their dirty load elsewhere. Like a heat seeking missile, they head toward the nearest soft place to lay their burden. Guilt is fertile ground for all sorts of negativity. It is like a funnel which leads negative words to the soul.

This week I realised that I have wasted much time fighting the filth attracted to my guilt. But the only way to stop these sticking to me is to get rid of the trap, that is I must tackle the source of my guilt. This week I faced the source, and I am happy to share that it has brought more freedom to my life.

What is your source of guilt?

In love, Jenny

I am involved with some organizations which advocate and offer services for those of us with weight issues. There is still discrimination against obesity. Sadly, people are bullied and demeaned by the public and even the medical profession. Those with weight issues are often unfairly blamed for work situations and publicly shamed for their appearance. I have missed out on promotions, pay increases and other work opportunities because of obesity. I have resigned from jobs where I have been bullied and treated as a lesser person because of how I appear.

Obesity is complex. It is not a moral issue, nor does it reflect a weakness or lack of control. There are many aspects to this complicated and misunderstood condition. In my own personal journey, my obesity was influenced not just by my unhealthy lifestyle; but the culture in which I lived and my genetics.

I believe our culture is to blame both for the discrimination and the increase in obesity. Although we know that fast foods increase inflammation in the body and lead to obesity and illness, they can still be easily purchased. We now have a worldwide epidemic, yet the public largely remains uneducated with many believing that eating less calories and exercising is the way to lose weight; so, it is a matter of willpower, not the quality of the food we eat.

There is pressure from our culture to conform. On the same night, we will witness advertising for fast foods such as KFC and McDonalds, and weight loss supplements and miracle tablets. But very few have confronted the crux of the matte: the average Australian diet is unhealthy. What we consider to be normal in our culture is a lifestyle which causes high inflammation and eventually illness. It is not just those who are obese who struggle with inflammation; as a culture we suffer from it.

No one teaches that the best foods can be found on the outside of the supermarket, not on the shelves in the middle of the store. Fast foods are readily available, yet healthy alternatives such as fruit and vegetables as a snack are rarely offered at public events. Very few of us live a healthy lifestyle. Unhealthy foods are freely available because there is a demand for them. That is, people without obvious obesity are consuming the same foods.

Remember, we are all in this together. Only as one can we change this trend.

In love, Jenny.

Having been on holiday, this week I felt the need to pressure myself to be more productive now I was back home. But there is something about going away. I tend to live in the moment when I am away from the distractions and demands of my life.   

We live in a culture which pressures us to perform and conform. We feel we must achieve to be acceptable, so we pressure ourselves to meet the expectations of others. But I want to live my life differently. My week away has made me more aware of the moment. I will never live this time in my life again.  

As Dreamy and I walked around the Blue Lake this afternoon, I was more conscious of the moment. I tried to focus on the bond between Dreamy and myself. As he sniffed, I listened to the birds and smelled the fragrances around us while enjoying his presence. Lately, I have been suffering from back pain, but I noticed this lessened this afternoon. When I pressure myself, I lean forward while I walk. Not only did I enjoy our walk more, but my back hurt less when we had finished.

Sometimes I worry about the past or future, simmering on situations and slump as I do. I know much of my pondering is for self-protection. I am a chronic questioner. What can I do to limit any future hurt? Is there anything in the past that I should do differently if I am confronted with the same situation? Don’t get me wrong, there is good in thinking this way at times, but I have been known to overthink these situations.

Sometimes this thinking makes the situation worse in my own mind. By focussing on anything but the present I miss the tender times between Dreamy and myself and I miss out on the love we share. But today, I realised that it is okay to live in the moment because I will never have this time again.

We are not going to live this moment again. So often we waste precious time on what we cannot change when love can only be experienced in the present moment. Life is good, so why not focus on it and enjoy it?

This image is from our walk around the Blue Lake today.

In love, Jenny

So, I have my car back; I missed the old girl! I pulled in front of the panel shop where she was fixed, and there she stood in the carpark all shiny and clean. I opened the driver’s side door and sat in the seat. It felt good, cosy, and I was immediately at home.

I instinctively looked for the clutch to put it into gear. To my surprise it was almost as difficult to return to my automatic as it had been to go back to a manual transmission. I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong as I searched for a hand brake like the manual I had been driving. Even though I had driven an automatic for the last 6 or so years, the 40 odd years of driving a manual was a habit that was hard to break.  

This got me thinking about the biggest change I have made in my life – overcoming food addiction. Through my childhood I was addicted to sugary foods. My memories are still strong of the irresistible urge to rapidly consume the sweet delights and experience the rush it gave me. I would eat until nearly all the food was gone. Only then I would feel shame at what I had done, and hoped my parents would not discover my sin. It wasn’t until well into my 40s and many attempts to change the pattern that I could see there was a possibility of overcoming it. Having grown up with an eating disorder, I know how easy it is to fall back into the old patterns when things get tough.  I now have a fear of eating sugary foods. In fact, I find myself avoiding high sugar recipes when I cook.

It is possible to change our brain, or mould it to think a different way. But it is always possible to fall back into the old ways, so it is a good idea to avoid anything that could trigger the old behaviour. Although overcoming addiction is tough and can seem impossible, I am glad I persisted. There is real freedom and pride when we overcome a behaviour that has affected our life like my food addiction affected mine.

Do you have any patterns affecting your life that you would like to change?

In love, Jenny

I tend to spend a lot of time thinking about life. It is something I enjoy doing. I find people fascinating and I work hard to understand others to minimise bitterness toward anyone. Often, I wake with a fresh train of thought, perhaps I have ruminated on something in my dreams. Apparently, our dreams are a way of resolving issues while we sleep. This morning’s rumination was about seeing ourselves in a deeper way.

It is interesting that we think we are so different from one another. We compare ourselves with each other, making our differences appear greater than they are. Our competitive nature creates distance between us and is a source of conflict.

Yet, if we look deeper, we find more similarity than difference. Each of us has a heart that beats, blood which runs through our veins and a brain that thinks. We all experience the same feelings of joy, hope, love, compassion, fear, anger, shame, and guilt. Yet, we tend not to think about our real similarities.  

No child is born with hatred toward another. Children are innocent until they become indoctrinated by our way of thinking. We are taught from a young age to differentiate, to see ourselves as right or wrong, as different, better, smarter, dumber, bigger, smaller from one another. This creates insecurity and defensiveness. Which is at the centre of conflict.

Our differences are only in our mind, not in our nature or our body. We learn to see difference, rather than to see commonality. We have learned to see each other as separate rather than one living being, individuals, rather than a community.

To see another in love is to see more deeply, to question the surface perspective and to seek to understand. Love sees us as one, a community. It does not differentiate, nor compete. It does not alienate but increases our closeness to one another. It creates an atmosphere of safety.

In love, Jenny

Intense guilt is a nightmare to overcome. I have struggled with it from time to time since childhood. It is a by-product of abuse I experienced as a child. Some things simply do not heal entirely. Thoughts of responsibility and failure have often dominated my mind, and at times they still do. This heaviness does no good to my mental health, nor my physical health.  

But when are we experiencing too much guilt? Is there such a thing as false guilt? When is guilt necessary? These are difficult questions to answer, but I will do my best to share what I have learned.

Feeling some guilt and responsibility for our actions is healthy and necessary. We are responsible for our own life and guilt can be our conscience speaking to us. We know what is morally right and wrong, and it is important to follow this intuition.

However, it is too much when we are overwhelmed and immobilised by these feelings. This type of guilt is toxic. For me, this expressed itself though a lack of motivation and an inability to change. I suffered from depression and a physical heaviness. The stress from this guilt caused me to gain weight, and I chose to eat lots of unhealthy food for comfort. As a child I was immobilised by guilt and saw life through this emotion.

Toxic guilt gives us a false and distorted impression of ourselves and others. We are unable to see life as good, ourselves as valuable or worthy of love. This type of guilt is hard to overcome. We can feel suffocated by it.

What I have found is that when I am overwhelmed by toxic guilt and cannot find a way of getting out of the mindset, it means I have taken on responsibility for what is not mine; I have taken on too much. I see this as false guilt as I can only be responsible for my own actions, not the actions of others. I cannot change what I did in the past, I can only use the past to go on and do good in the future.

So, next time you are overwhelmed in this way, take some time out and give yourself a break. If you are suffocating in emotional despair over your failures, be mindful that you are not responsible for all things. Be kind to yourself.

In love, Jenny

When I first adopted Dreamy, I had no idea what separation anxiety in dogs looked like. My intention had been to keep him out of the house when he was by himself. I left a comfortable bed for him in the laundry with rugs, food, and water. But upon returning from work, he met me with aggression.

Over time the behaviours worsened, he began chewing the door frames, ripping beds, pulling items down and ripping them apart, howling outside and other destructive behaviours. I tried some natural remedies and left one of my shirts on his bed in the laundry. The behaviour did not change.  Tablets were prescribed for his anxiety which helped a little, I let him inside the house to my lay on my bed. But his anxiety continued when alone. He howled inside the house and peed on the furniture.

Anger filled me at first. My house had been my sanctuary until now; it was becoming a den of destruction. Then I began to see the similarities between his anxiety and mine. When I first moved here, I lived alone. My fear meant I saw negativity in everything. I imagined demons and struggled to focus on my work. The separation from my family was hard and the lack of contact dreadful. My life had completely changed and like Dreamy, I struggled with it. But then, someone gave me the love and support to find my own feet and helped me believe in love.

So, I tempered my reactions and showed compassion to this big, fawn greyhound. I soothed him with kind words, cuddles, and lots of love. It became a way of expressing gratefulness for what I had been given. I understood his anxiety and chose to connect with him. In the process I relived the healing I had experienced in my own life, and it softened me. I was reminded of the tenderness which had changed my life, and those who had listened to and heard my story rather than judging me.

So Dreamy and I share a common bond. We have both experienced trauma and we have both been changed my love.

Has love changed your life?

In love, Jenny