The Fear Factor?

What Warrants Your Fear?

I fear spiders but I also pride myself on being a common sense girl, so I kill them when I need to. I have no compassion for them. I never capture and move them outside, because I am pretty sure they are out to get me and my family and they will only return with a gang of buddies in the future and claim our house for good! And fair enough too - we call Greg Spiderman because he was bitten by a redback at a friends house (another trip to the hospital) and a few months after was bitten again by a whitetail that had taken a free ride from the clothesline to the house inside one of his work socks. We are still waiting to discover his magical powers though. Perhaps it is the ability to remain unaffected by a variety of poisons?

I also have quite a fear of pain, developed over years of hurting myself (accidentally, am not confessing to self harm) through various activities.... mostly just walking! So the excuse of not wanting to be hurt comes up quite a bit in my head when I think of things I might like to do. I consider my fear of pain a minor fear in life, along with spiders, confrontation, and housework. But the thing that warrants my fear more than anything is losing my loved ones. I'm not afraid of being alone in life, simply afraid to not have them with me anymore. Does that make sense?


I pride myself on not worrying too much... I honestly can't be bothered. So when Greg packed up his dirt bike and headed off with his friends for the day I deliberately put him out of my mind. I had never been dirt biking but it sounded scary to me. Greg grew up on a farm riding bikes through paddocks chasing sheep, so I actually didn't have that much to be concerned about. He was well experienced. I knew they'd be gone for the day so I busied myself around our little flat and cooked up a lasagna to surprise him with his favourite meal upon his triumphant return. So when I heard his car roll up just after lunchtime, my only thoughts were that they must have had a breakdown or something else of the sorts. I certainly didn't expect to see him being escorted inside by his best mate, having already visited the hospital to be told that his collarbone was broken. My first reaction was to laugh at the irony of the situation, followed quickly by embarrassment of my laughing at poor husband and sympathy aplenty!

But still I try not to worry. What's the point? There are enough terrible things in the real world to deal with, without creating fake scenarios in my head out of fear. Deal with the hard stuff as it comes. For life is life and it will come. Even the charmed won't escape hardship at some point in time. Forget all the possibilities of what might happen and just focus on today. I try reversing my fears and turning them into hopes.... I hope to grow old with Greg. I hope Lucy grows to be a confident, healthy, intelligent and vibrant young woman.

 I hope I can wakeboard next time I try!!! ;)

'I am now fit and healthy, living my life full of love, joy and abundance and I absolutely love life.' Lauren Granger (at least 30 times a day!)

Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Good!

An Unhappy Crafternoon

The Mosaic Joke

It was several years ago now on a wintry weekend at my mums caravan at the coast that I tried my hand at mosaics. Between books, with birthday money to spend and an idea of brilliance in my head, I strode into Spotlight with purpose and stocked up on everything I would need to create the mosaic pot of my dreams. It was to house a maiden-haired fern I had inherited from a good friend, who had been gifted it from someone else - the gift that just kept on giving!

So when Greg packed up his fishing gear and filled the car with our luggage, I proudly pulled out my spotlight bag of goodies and said 'Honey, can you take this too?'. That was the first time I saw Greg's smile that he saved just for me. The one that had amusement written all over it. 'Sure' he said, after peaking in the bag. As we drove the Clyde I told him of my idea, of hills and blue skies and sunshine streaming down, all on the side of a plant pot about 20x15cm on each of its 4 sides.

Each morning and afternoon Greg would hook up his rod, prepare his tackle bag and head off to the beach or the lake to find us some dinner. And as he left me to my own devices on the first morning I was brimming with excitement for this creative little gem I was about to create. Have I mentioned that I have never tried to achieve mosaic brilliance before, nor did I know anything about the skill required? I started out by pulling all my goodies out of the Spotlight bag and laying them out on the table. Pondering their priority, I put back the stuff I didn't need until later (grout, glue etc). My first step was to break up the mosaic tiles into the shapes I desired.

When Greg came back from lunch, I was no longer as fire up about my challenge as I had been earlier that day. The thought of the end result was much more appealing to me than the steps required to achieve it. He went to the beach that afternoon, so I mustered some staying power for my afternoons activities....sticking the mosaic pieces to make the beautiful rolling hills and sunshine in a blue sky. The term 'a dogs breakfast' comes to mind. Why the hell wasn't it reflecting the vision in my mind!? Grrrrrr!

When Greg came home a second time that day he came to inspect my hard work. He provided husbandly encouragement (good work bub, looks great) and asked me what it was supposed to be. Wasn't my shining sun obvious? Pft! Just goes to show some people can interpret art work, and obviously others can't. Whatever!

As he left again the following morning to allow us to embark on our respective hobbies, I began grouting. Within 2 minutes, I hated this task. And promptly got the shits, picked up my book and walked to the beach for a morning of procrastinating in the sun. At lunchtime, Greg and I returned to the caravan and he smiled at my half-arsed attempt to grout. Giving me a few tips he picked up during tiling stints, I resolved to finish it. And finish it I did.

I thought that creating something from scratch would be satisfying, I thought mosaics would be for me. However, the hard work put me off almost immediately and to add to the frustration was my disappointment rather than pride in the end result.

The disappointment I feel towards my pot is so great that I have never been able to plant the maiden-hair in it. Equally my attachment to my hard work and commitment to my mosaic challenge means that I also can't throw it out. And I do love to clear out my house every few months of all things unused, so this irritates me endlessly that I feel so attached to such a useless (ugly) item.

If you ever visit my house, and are spending time in our backyard, you may see it hiding. Sitting quietly on the window sill of Lucy's bedroom, watching the outside world of plants it will never know, yet unseen from the inside, the pot quietly contemplates its life of uselessness and ugliness - forever destined to be an observer, rather than a helper.

Craft doesn't seem to be a hobby match for me.

Ciao for now,
LG, Life's Good!

Everybody Loves a Whinger

Easy Luck or a Charmed Perspective

We all know that person who is genuinely hard done by. Life is tough and they seem to continually be knocked down with one shit thing after the next. They have had a long and difficult path, and all the good stuff seems to fly straight past them and land at the feet of that person who won Lotto last year, has already paid off their mortgage at the ripe old age of 25 (thank you Grandpa's inheritance)- the very same person that has their health, a hot partner, a successful and interesting career and adorable family of good-looking wonder-kids.

But what about that person who thinks they have it tough...and clearly don't. Bloody EMO kids on facebook all over the shop wishing people would see them for who they really are, telling us how tough it is to be a teenager. Those same kids will end up running this country, as they will grow up being told they can be/do anything in the world. Perhaps knowing that you too could be a Scientist, a Professor or the Prime Minister, or a Truck Driver, Checkout Chick or Sanitary Bin Collector is simply too much pressure?! Whatever kids, life isn't as bad as you wish it was. 

Let's be honest. Isn't it great to have something to complain about? Hell, I am here everyday complaining about my lack of hobby/my weight/my issues in life, so I am just as much to blame as everyone else. People love hearing that someone else is doing it harder than us - it's in our nature to some up our lives against others and realise in comparison that actually we are doing okay! At least we aren't afflicted by 'insert issue/illness/drama here'. It's the old 'uglier friend' trick, making you look better than you actually are. ;) I'm onto you!

But how about when it works the opposite way? How about when you hear that people are doing well? Does anyone really want to hear that? BORING! Because upon reflection it can make some of us focus on our own insecurities and we don't measure up quite as good as we did when you complained about that shit thing in your life. "Hmmmm....you say you got a pay rise? Awesome! Perhaps that will help you get rid of that shit box you are driving around eh, maybe get a nice car like mine?!" ;) Can't we just be happy for each other?! 

I feel that my life has been judged occasionally for being so lucky. So lucky to be in my job that pays well and have the security of my role. So lucky to have my close family. So lucky to have my husband and my daughter. My house, my friends, my boat, my talents, the list goes on and on. Yes, I absolutely agree with you. And I think you'll vouch for me if you know me personally: I live in constant state of awe and gratefulness at my luck too. But a good deal of it has come from my time and efforts invested, through my hard work, growing networks, and making smart decisions. And yes, some has just come as a pure blessing, for which I thank God everyday. Some people reading this have even commented along the lines of 'but why would you want to change anything about your life!? Isn't it already perfect...?'

Do you realise it is more socially acceptable to share hardships and tough times. People want to hear about your sleepless nights and the fights you have had with your husband, not about your first child that slept through the night at 11 weeks old and how you love your man more and more every time you see him holding the child he has gifted to you. Negativity is simply sharing....... but I have found positivity is considered to be bragging. 

Next time you ponder the amazingness of someone else's life with a hint of spite, consider the things you aren't privy to. Perhaps like me, they prefer to have a charmed perspective. Realising that actually, most of us don't deserve any of what we are given, so be grateful for it, because in life there are so many people worse off than you. 

But don't be naive enough to think that because they choose to see the positive that that's all their life entails. Don't make the poorly educated assumption that their life is absent of deep and lasting grief, loss of very dear and loved ones, desperation for answers, anger at issues unresolved, resentment of misunderstandings, and a yearning to find themselves. 

 

Now listen here you lot - don't judge a book by it's cover and be happy for your friends!

Embrace other peoples creativity, happiness and joy without judgement. Just be happy that even if you can't have the luck at the moment, at least somebody you know can.

Ciao for now,

LG, Life's Good

The juxtosposed self esteem

Get your mojo back!

Ever thought that the room lit up when you walked into it? That feeling that you are truly radiant, beautiful and confident? That heads turned when you spoke and people wanted to be near you? I have had that feeling many times in life. That sounds like the most conceited thing a person could say, but it's true. I have felt like the most beautiful actress on stage, the best singer in the room and the most animated and interesting friend at different points in time. Equally, I have also felt invisible occasionally too. 

I used to scare people. A friend at school will vouch for this statement. He was petrified of me. And not in the 'I'm scared because you're so beautiful' kind of way, but more in the 'I'm scared because i think you may actually physically hurt me' kind of way. Years later when my friend confessed this to me, first I laughed then I was appalled! I have never been in a fight! Why would he think this of me? And no people, the answer isn't because I lived in QBN! I still don't know exactly what it was about me that made him think I was violent, but it leaves me pondering......is this why I was voted in school captain? Perhaps my peers and my teachers thought that if they didn't give it to me I would have knee-capped the lot of them? Taken their lunch money and given them wedgies?

I have always hoped to be friendly, approachable, fun and interesting. Occupationally, I had hoped to do something that would have me known by many and not working very hard. I much prefer leisure to hard work...think I know which parent I took after. ;) I have tried my hat at various things and have always prided myself on making friends wherever I go. I am proud of this part of my character.Lately, I have had less of those glowing experiences where you feel yourself shining, and more of the experiences that leave me wanted to shy away from the lights and the answer is the simplest thing in the world. Confidence. 

I watched the Biggest Loser season start last night and found it hard to relate to many of their stories. While I am certainly overweight and have my struggles, I have loved myself for a long time now. I can endlessly list for you all the things that are amazing about me and I am very proud of who I am. Yet, I have struggled to care for myself physically and respect my health, which is why I shy away from the lights. I am embarrassed to have people see that I have not been working very hard on myself, even though I have clearly hard plenty of time to invest on a successful marriage, career, family, and friendship group. 

But loving yourself is not enough....you have to be CONFIDENT. Confident to try new things, to put yourself out there without the fear of being called Big Red (acceptance is the key, as my sister says), without worrying if people are embarrassed by your actions, and without being inhibited by your own limitations. 

As the years have gone by, I have placed myself inside a box of limitations....a box that has silly little subconscious rules:

1. I used to be more fun, silly and spontaneous ... but I'm the grown up Lauren now
2. Don't draw attention to yourself until you are back at looking your best
3. I will inherit other peoples limitations and fears regarding physical activity

But actually there just needs to be one rule in my life from now on... and that is if you are going to do it, do it CONFIDENTLY. Remember the girl who turns heads and don't be afraid to be that girl again. 

I want to thank my friends for giving me some awesome ideas to get started on finding a hobby. Burlesque dancing, singing lessons, join a choir, start a bake sale at the markets. I will give some of these things a go and let you know in future blogs how I go. 

And even though the thought of trying something new can be daunting I will go in guns blazing, because I will approach these challenges with as much confidence as I can muster. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! (Think powerful roar rather than girly scream)

Feeling like the most beautiful girl in the world on my wedding day xoxox

Ciao for now, 
LG, Life's Good!

The Cheer Squad in My Head!

The 70yr Old Shuffle (everyday I'm shuffling!)

Ever seen an overweight person run? Did you laugh? Did you think to yourself go and eat a pie fatty boomsticks, you are too far gone? Or perhaps you are more optimistic, thinking more positive thoughts such as good for you girlfriend, getting out there and doing something about it. 

Remember that red explosive head that comes with my embarrassment? The old Ka BOOM affect? Well, if you have had the pleasure of enjoying an alcoholic beverage with me you will have seen my 'alcohol glow'. I also have an exercise glow. SO LUCKY, I know!!! And I especially love it when people say "gee your face is really red!" Why thank you Captain Obvious, I hadn't noticed!

I have taken up exercise. Most people do it. It isn't a big deal. But this year, it has become one of my hobbies. So I do have something that I do just for myself, for my health and my amazing good looks. ;)

A good friend of mine started a blog to outline her new running program, she is doing the Couch to 5km. I like to copy her, so I started that program too....and then I started a blog as well. Hmmmmm. Thought I'd be no worries, it's only jogging for 60 secs x 8 reps, with 90 secs between jogs in the first week. Took me 3 weeks to achieve the beginner level. 

I must have been a sight. What you know as running and what I do as running as two different things, I'm sure. I 'run' with the pram, so I have a funny bum-poking-out stride, and when I say stride perhaps I should call it more of a shuffle. It started as a 90yr old creep, briefly scooting for one foot to the other at the same speed as a walk but with the motion of what I think might be running if you put in me in fast forward. I have now graduated to more of a 70yr old shuffle, getting a little gamer on my feet to put a little distance between each step, and increasing my pace as I go.

And honestly! Anyone who has boobs bigger than a handful will understand what I say when I say BLOODY HELL! No wonder I have never run for fun before. But I know that if I keep it up I will release unwanted weight (including in boobs) and running will become easier and easier.....right?

As I run past the newly retired man in his fancy walking suit, the fat man in the wheelchair and the other two young mums that I see at the park a couple of times a week, I wonder what they think of me. I like to fantasise that they are saying little chants in their head like "Go Lozzi go, Go Lozzi go, onto the scales, it will be LOW!" and "feeling fit and feeling great, go hard and you'll do the 8" (reps of running). Me? I yell out loud at myself, like Lleyton and startle anyone who is too close! Come on legs! MOVE! And Lucy looks up at me sweetly, cause she doesn't know that running looks any more graceful that what she sees of me. 

And I'm sure the sleazy old man who sits on the bench and leers at us all as we pass him by just thinks "Holy crap, if I keep watching this one, those boobs are sure to fly out of her top at some point in time and knock her out cold!"

Prick.

Ciao for now,

LG, Life's Good