The Cat On The Moon

  

There’s this cartoon I watched when I was a kid about a cat who hated people. He hates the noise and the way he’s tramped on and treated by kids, he hates the constant hustle and bustle and movement. He just wants to escape. 

Sometimes, I feel like this. 

It’s not that I hate people, so to speak. But I can relate to that black and white cat. Sometimes it’s just too much. 

Don’t get me wrong. People are great for heaps of things. The other night I went to a concert by myself because no one else I knew appreciated the type of music, and afterwards I felt euphoric but had no way to express it. When I got in the car, I tried to explain it to my dad, but I had to recount everything that had happened and my emotions, whereas walking to the train station, I had listened to everyone chat to their friends and families about what they’d thought. Part of me just wanted to choose a group and join in [I did tell a woman on the train she looked beautiful, because she’d dressed up all specially. She told me I looked great too.] I found out later my friend had gone and I’d had no idea- I hope we’ll get a chance to talk about it, because that will feel good. I already know chatting makes me feel better. Hugs feel good- comforting and squishy and they produce happy hormones. People make you laugh and make funny YouTube videos and say amazing things and think up crazy things. They sing, and make music and look beautiful and fellowship feels good, when you’re part of a movement. 

But sometimes I feel like I’m in a line of people linking arms and I’ve tripped over. And as I fall, everyone else in that line turns to look at what is holding them back, what ruined that movement.

Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe because there are so many people in a room that look so good and talk so right and act like they know what they’re doing when I didn’t even get a script. 

Sometimes that feeling wells up behind my eyes and turns into tears.

Sometimes I feel tired for no reason other than I tried to keep a smile up for a day.

Sometimes I am hurt by something but I don’t mention it because I hate being called “oversensitive”. 

A lot of the time I miss the people who are special to me, but I know I can’t always have a room of just the right people- that’s a shout out to my Year 13 friends, who are all so far away. 

People do great things, like dance and paint and kiss and listen, but they also do cruel, unpredictable and unfair things. 

I worked for five hours on a project today that I got halfway on. When I suggested a time to come back next week, they said yes and later on called to say I shouldn’t bother. They’re scrapping the whole thing. 
Sometimes there is just so much noise. 

  

So this cat, he buys a relatively cheap rocket and flies to the moon. 

Tomorrow, I’m going to a hotel for a night. It’s about ten minutes from my house, and at first my parents were a bit confused [and grumpy] as to why I would spend so much money on not even going anywhere. I tried to explain it’s not even quite a holiday [I couldn’t afford one of those]. It’s more like trying to create a space for my mind to settle down, to recalibrate. It’s kind of just like I’m going crazy from the noise. 
Sometimes I feel so, so sad for no reason at all. Sometimes you telling me you don’t care hurts so much more than it should, or wondering whether I’m worth anyone’s time takes up the energy that should be spent on inserting myself into your time meaningfully. And I feel like I’m typing out an essay and my ‘r’ key is stuck but I can’t even hold onto the backspace key because it doesn’t completely cancel out what is already a flood of the wrong thing. Like I don’t know exactly what to do or how to help, and I feel like deleting the document or panicking and pulling the keyboard plug. What you actually have to do is really uncomfortable- wedge your nail underneath the key so it pops back up- which is metaphorically just getting out of your comfort zone. 

  

That cat ends up on the moon and really hates it. It’s strange and so uncomfortable and he’s away from everything he knows. I think the worst part is probably that he’s away from anyone he can talk to about it. So much has happened in my life that has been so weird and unexpected, and I’m grateful for my mum and dad and friends and dog who I can talk to about them. I wonder what my hotel experience will be like, because weirdly although it’s about being alone, I can’t wait to tell them when I get back. 

That cat ends up coming back down to earth. 

Sorry this post is so jumbled. It doesn’t have a point so to speak, I think it’s just more an insert of my life. Maybe it will be helpful to those who know just what I mean, or helpful for those who don’t know what is going on inside my head. —

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Going Postal

THE VOTE ON GAY MARRIAGE

The postal vote on gay marriage has turned Australia into something uncomfortably absurd. 

Over recent months, we have not demonstrated ourselves to be a country that is young and free, welcoming and jovial. On an early morning talk show yesterday, two guests were presented with the chaos currently surrounding the vote- uni students being beaten, lives being threatened, a campaign lunch interrupted by protesters with signs that said “burn churches, not gays”. One guest suggested that maybe this is all acceptable because gays have been treated this way for years. 

“An eye for an eye leaves everyone blind”, said Ghandi. Of course, Jesus said something similar, but I wouldn’t dare quote him in this current climate. 

What’s interesting is that, because of the things happening from the campaigns, people are voting based on a heap of things other than the actual question [should gay marriage be allowed in Australia?]. I have heard Christians decide to vote yes because they are sick of seeing innocent children caught up in the crossfire. I have heard gay people are voting no because the conditions of the vote don’t satisfy them. I have heard people who don’t want to vote at all because they have no idea which decision would be less harmful. And so, an often opinionated Australia is caught up in a tidal wave of confusion, even if people are just too scared to say what they really think out loud because they know they’ll cop backlash.

I have made it no secret I am a Christian- just check your web browser. I have no qualms calmly discussing the matter with those genuinely curious to hear my views, however I haven’t found many people who are ready to hear me out using their inside voices. I have kept my head down and why? Because not for the first time in my life, I am afraid of the repercussions from people who call themselves my friends. 

In Year 11, someone got the wrong gist of my opinions and instead of confronting me, told everyone who they thought I was. In two weeks, no one would meet my eye and yet it took me two years to find out what had actually happened- what had I actually done wrong? Nothing. 

About a week ago, my friend changed her profile picture to include an “it’s okay to vote no” frame, and her boss, instead of engaging in personal discussion and hearing her out, fired her and posted to Facebook about it. It must make a coward feel a whole lot better to be surrounded by a select few backing her up. 

This is not okay. 

This cannot be okay. 

I decided not to write a post about what people should vote. I know two things about Australians- 1) they hate being told what to do, and 2) they’ll tell you all about it. I decided to write a post, therefore, suitable for any voter. 

The madness has to stop.

I saw a post by someone I met and friended a couple of years ago on Facebook who asked anyone voting no to unfriend him. I have seen “no” voters called homophobes, even when they may be gay themselves. I have seen relationships broken over words that can never be retracted, and to think this is all happening over a clash of opinions. It really didn’t take much. 

I refuse to lose friends over a vote. I refuse to limit myself and my discussions to politics. I refuse to be defined by a box I ticked or ostracised by gossiping ever again. I refuse to live in fear, and the solution to all of this stopping is ironically exercising what the vote is meant to be advocating: love. True, pure love. 

You who are calling for acceptance need to stop bullying those who are different to you. 

You who are advocating for equality but ignoring pleas from the opposite side that their rights are being denied need to listen. 

I am asking for an end to the madness. 

You may be left with the question, so what am I voting?
My answer would be to first ask yourself: 
1) Should it matter?

2) Would you ask me face to face?

3) What would you do if I said something you didn’t like?

Adulting

Today, I was almost reduced to tears [it really doesn’t take much. My record is a dog food commercial] because I tried to be an adult and it didn’t work. 

There was a lost dog wandering around our compound which followed me home while I was walking my neighbour’s dog, so I decided to do the grown up thing and call the council, seeing as it was friendly but didn’t have a tag. The friendly man on the phone named Timothy informed me that someone would be around to pick him up within half an hour.

 I waited in the cold and the dark for an hour before finally giving up once the dog started to get super friendly with another dog- I have my limits, and today I reached them while sitting on the curb watching the driveway because I had to watch anything other than that dog right then. 

I went inside, had a hot shower and fretted about that dog. I hadn’t gotten a phone call, no one had come to the door and eventually, I decided to sit down and watch funny youtube videos- after all, I had been mature enough for the day. 

THREE HOURS LATER, a man knocks on the door. He has driven from over an hour away, in the cold and the dark, to pick up this dog. It not having a collar, and us having a canine-phobic canine, I had left it where it seemed happiest. I wanted to bring it into the house [and force poor Enzo outside], but it would not follow me and I wasn’t going to get in the middle of it’s new found love affair, so I walked away. And now this man had turned up and I had nothing to show for his travels. What was worse was that he’d called three times to check we had it before coming out, and my phone had been on silent in the living room. 

So I present to you this situation. 

I was kind of proud of myself for trying to do the right thing. I went above and beyond to do the right thing, for about an hour. And then, somewhere along the line, I lost that thread of grown-up-ness and I got in trouble with a tired man who thought I could have done more. And I also got lectured by my parents about having my phone on hand. 

So I did what any adult does, and I went to my room and sulked. 
I don’t know when I became an adult. 

Oh sure, there’s the legal adulthood, of drinking and voting, but those are two things no one really wants to do so they make an age where at least one of them is compulsory. 

On the other hand, there are all the subtle nuances that are expected of adults. When it’s unacceptable to dress however you feel is probably the first sign I noticed. When I actually started trying with make up and “my sense of style”. But also just the way you speak to people changes. You make an email signature that says “regards”, and your email isn’t “christianawesomeness” it’s “patty.ayres”. Or you start having conversations with people who casually swear and it’s no longer a big thing. Plus, you have no one to dob to. I don’t know when I thought I was wise enough to make an official call to the council, and I don’t know when it became a big deal I don’t answer phone calls, and I don’t know when it became so that I have to take responsibility for when I do something wrong, although I guess you always have to face the consequences for inconveniencing someone else. And I don’t know what happened to that darn dog. 

Trying to find a job has been a big eye opener for me. Figuring out the split in my wardrobe between “smart casual” and “every day” is the most boring thing I have ever done- I now own a plain navy blue shirt just because I realised that nothing I have was boring enough for a job interview. My last job fell into my lap because of a family friend. This new one matters.

No one ever really said, you’ve got to grow up now. The worst part is, people always used to tell me I’m mature for my age. Now I’m worried I just had a head start and everyone’s catching up, or even passing me by. 

You know the last time I had my phone off silent? It went off during that job interview, the one with the navy blue shirt. 

Adulthood is a series of not winning, no “participation awards” and high expectations. It’s everybody watching you and fewer people watching out for you. It’s scary and big and as simple as not picking up your phone so you lose a dog and a man yells at you while you’re in your pyjamas. I’m sure there are some perks to it. I’m just too young to have found them. 

Maybe adulting is just sleeping through your alarm but still making it to class. 

Maybe it’s as simple as staying up too late but discovering concealer.

Maybe it’s picking up the damn phone. 
  

Trusting God

Everyone has stories of times when they trusted someone and were let down.

A few spring to mind for me, from someone literally just letting me fall during a trust exercise, or twice in my life when boys have pulled the chairs out from underneath me as I was about to sit down. 

However, one really takes centre stage. I was doing the high wires at a fitness camp- where you’ve got a harness, and your objective is to shimmy along these wires two or more metres off the ground- for the really brave, there are places where you have to just take leaps of faith to get to the next place of safety. However, you’re wearing these harnesses so that if you fall or want to stop, the person spotting you can let you down. I watched my partner with the vigilance of an eagle. When I looked down at her, she was chatting with someone else, and typically, the shock of betrayal caused me to fall. So, in the most awkward way possible, I dangled there like a flailing fish until I managed to catch her attention. 

No wonder people have trust issues. 

Two weeks ago today, I quit my job. I wish I could say I’d thought about it, and had the dignity of a speech and strutting out with my head held high. However, unfortunately that was not the case. There was yelling, and crying, and my brain sort of melted so that I went outside to finish the shredding before grabbing my cactus and waddling home in my high heels. [I had to sneak in the next day to get my tea and leave the key on the desk.] To be fair, I had always dreamed of quitting. I just always thought I’d have something to move on to, and I’d have my speech ready before I went in, not at 3 am the next morning. 

Then, the next day, my Dad was attending a meeting for the church’s kids holiday club and, running with my adrenaline, I decided that day that I would do kids club with absolutely no physical or mental preparation or planning. 

So that’s how I ended up doing kids club two days after quitting my job [and after telling everyone for six months there was absolutely no possible way I could help out because I’d be working.] [I got an award at the end for “Best Life Choices”.]

And, the day after kids club ended, I packed my bags and headed off to a week of leading on a high school camp. 

I can’t explain to you what I was thinking, because the easiest summary is that I wasn’t. I was trying to think of how to write a post-camp blog post yesterday, and my head was just spinning from two weeks of not sticking to my usual strict regimen. My hair is frizzy because I didn’t have time to wash it properly, and my face is breaking out because of what, stress? Lack of sleep? An unusual amount of physical exercise for someone who used to sit at a desk for nine hours a day? 

And I realised the only thing that is still true after two weeks, and maybe six months of falling down a rabbit hole of insanity, is that God is good. 

In the past six months, I have had my first major break up, transitioned into a new church, started uni, finished up with my old Sunday School, started a new one, and quit my job. But while my head has been spinning, “on Christ my solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”

With no planning, I expected last week to be hard and disorganised. But I was surrounded by a team of people who trusted and loved God and worked to include but not overwhelm me. This week, I expected to be awful because the last high school camp I went on I was completely out of my depth. But once again, I was surrounded by a team of people who worked endlessly to pull their weight and make sure I was okay, plus I was blessed with an amazing group of girls and co leader. 

And for those two weeks, every time I thought about getting a job, a sense of panic began to well up inside of me, but I have been reminded time and time again- even when we are skeptical, God will never let us down. It’s just not in his nature. 

So, when none of my girls seemed to respond to the talks, I decided God has a plan for them, and I’m just not watching it play out yet. When I got half a dozen rejections for jobs I’d applied for, I figured I would just keep praying. And when I woke up each day at six thirty in the morning and it was dark, and freezing, and my eyes kept gluing shut during prayer in the leaders meetings, I reminded myself that this was a chance to prepare to make camp the quality God had in mind for it to be. 

On the last night of camp, we had a time for people to tell their testimonies. The amount of kids who are struggling with situations at home, at school and even struggling with demons in their own heads was heart breaking. And yet, in amongst it all, there was this incredible sense of hope. Because, as Christians, we know that even when we have no idea what is going on, and everything seems like it is just falling apart, God has got us and he knows what he has in store. It is for our good, and not to hurt us. 

I was reminded during one of the talks of a verse where Jesus says God is going to prune us- to non gardeners, it seems odd to cut off what seemed to be fruitful and beautiful branches, to leave the tree smaller and bleeding sap. But to those who know what they are doing, they know those trees are only going to produce more fruit, even if it takes a while. 

I have decided, in the end, that I’m not going to look for a job for the next two weeks of my uni holidays. When I go back to uni, I only have a little while before I’m on practical placement, so it makes sense logically, but also I started to think that maybe the reason I haven’t found a job is because instead of rushing to find one, and panicking about the future, maybe I just need to stop and rest for a while. I have worked full time during every holiday I’ve had since the beginning of last year. My longest actual “do-nothing, have-fun” holiday has been three days. 

I want to enjoy life instead of worry about the future. 

I want to spend time with the people I love instead of listening to the fear and the panic that has been fuelling me for a while now. 

I want to trust God. 
  

Trusting God

Everyone has stories of times when they trusted someone and were let down.

A few spring to mind for me, from someone literally just letting me fall during a trust exercise, or twice in my life when boys have pulled the chairs out from underneath me as I was about to sit down. 

However, one really takes centre stage. I was doing the high wires at a fitness camp- where you’ve got a harness, and your objective is to shimmy along these wires two or more metres off the ground- for the really brave, there are places where you have to just take leaps of faith to get to the next place of safety. However, you’re wearing these harnesses so that if you fall or want to stop, the person spotting you can let you down. I watched my partner with the vigilance of an eagle. When I looked down at her, she was chatting with someone else, and typically, the shock of betrayal caused me to fall. So, in the most awkward way possible, I dangled there like a flailing fish until I managed to catch her attention. 

No wonder people have trust issues. 

Two weeks ago today, I quit my job. I wish I could say I’d thought about it, and had the dignity of a speech and strutting out with my head held high. However, unfortunately that was not the case. There was yelling, and crying, and my brain sort of melted so that I went outside to finish the shredding before grabbing my cactus and waddling home in my high heels. [I had to sneak in the next day to get my tea and leave the key on the desk.] To be fair, I had always dreamed of quitting. I just always thought I’d have something to move on to, and I’d have my speech ready before I went in, not at 3 am the next morning. 

Then, the next day, my Dad was attending a meeting for the church’s kids holiday club and, running with my adrenaline, I decided that day that I would do kids club with absolutely no physical or mental preparation or planning. 

So that’s how I ended up doing kids club two days after quitting my job [and after telling everyone for six months there was absolutely no possible way I could help out because I’d be working.] [I got an award at the end for “Best Life Choices”.]

And, the day after kids club ended, I packed my bags and headed off to a week of leading on a high school camp. 

I can’t explain to you what I was thinking, because the easiest summary is that I wasn’t. I was trying to think of how to write a post-camp blog post yesterday, and my head was just spinning from two weeks of not sticking to my usual strict regimen. My hair is frizzy because I didn’t have time to wash it properly, and my face is breaking out because of what, stress? Lack of sleep? An unusual amount of physical exercise for someone who used to sit at a desk for nine hours a day? 

And I realised the only thing that is still true after two weeks, and maybe six months of falling down a rabbit hole of insanity, is that God is good. 

In the past six months, I have had my first major break up, transitioned into a new church, started uni, finished up with my old Sunday School, started a new one, and quit my job. But while my head has been spinning, “on Christ my solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”

With no planning, I expected last week to be hard and disorganised. But I was surrounded by a team of people who trusted and loved God and worked to include but not overwhelm me. This week, I expected to be awful because the last high school camp I went on I was completely out of my depth. But once again, I was surrounded by a team of people who worked endlessly to pull their weight and make sure I was okay, plus I was blessed with an amazing group of girls and co leader. 

And for those two weeks, every time I thought about getting a job, a sense of panic began to well up inside of me, but I have been reminded time and time again- even when we are skeptical, God will never let us down. It’s just not in his nature. 

So, when none of my girls seemed to respond to the talks, I decided God has a plan for them, and I’m just not watching it play out yet. When I got half a dozen rejections for jobs I’d applied for, I figured I would just keep praying. And when I woke up each day at six thirty in the morning and it was dark, and freezing, and my eyes kept gluing shut during prayer in the leaders meetings, I reminded myself that this was a chance to prepare to make camp the quality God had in mind for it to be. 

On the last night of camp, we had a time for people to tell their testimonies. The amount of kids who are struggling with situations at home, at school and even struggling with demons in their own heads was heart breaking. And yet, in amongst it all, there was this incredible sense of hope. Because, as Christians, we know that even when we have no idea what is going on, and everything seems like it is just falling apart, God has got us and he knows what he has in store. It is for our good, and not to hurt us. 

I was reminded during one of the talks of a verse where Jesus says God is going to prune us- to non gardeners, it seems odd to cut off what seemed to be fruitful and beautiful branches, to leave the tree smaller and bleeding sap. But to those who know what they are doing, they know those trees are only going to produce more fruit, even if it takes a while. 

I have decided, in the end, that I’m not going to look for a job for the next two weeks of my uni holidays. When I go back to uni, I only have a little while before I’m on practical placement, so it makes sense logically, but also I started to think that maybe the reason I haven’t found a job is because instead of rushing to find one, and panicking about the future, maybe I just need to stop and rest for a while. I have worked full time during every holiday I’ve had since the beginning of last year. My longest actual “do-nothing, have-fun” holiday has been three days. 

I want to enjoy life instead of worry about the future. 

I want to spend time with the people I love instead of listening to the fear and the panic that has been fuelling me for a while now. 

I want to trust God. 

Trusting God

Everyone has stories of times when they trusted someone and were let down.

A few spring to mind for me, from someone literally just letting me fall during a trust exercise, or twice in my life when boys have pulled the chairs out from underneath me as I was about to sit down. However, one really takes centre stage. I was doing the high wires at a fitness camp- where you’ve got a harness, and your objective is to shimmy along these wires two or more metres off the ground- for the really brave, there are places where you have to just take leaps of faith to get to the next place of safety. However, you’re wearing these harnesses so that if you fall or want to stop, the person spotting you can let you down. I watched my partner with the vigilance of an eagle. When I looked down at her, she was chatting with someone else, and typically, the shock of betrayal caused me to fall. So, in the most awkward way possible, I dangled there like a flailing fish until I managed to catch her attention. 
No wonder people have trust issues. 
Two weeks ago today, I quit my job. I wish I could say I’d thought about it, and had the dignity of a speech and strutting out with my head held high. However, unfortunately that was not the case. There was yelling, and crying, and my brain sort of melted so that I went outside to finish the shredding before grabbing my cactus and waddling home in my high heels. [I had to sneak in the next day to get my tea and leave the key on the desk.] To be fair, I had always dreamed of quitting. I just always thought I’d have something to move on to, and I’d have my speech ready before I went in, not at 3 am the next morning. Then, the next day, my Dad was attending a meeting for the church’s kids holiday club and, running with my adrenaline, I decided that day that I would do kids club with absolutely no physical or mental preparation or planning. 
So that’s how I ended up doing kids club two days after quitting my job [and after telling everyone for six months there was absolutely no possible way I could help out because I’d be working.] [I got an award at the end for “Best Life Choices”.]
And, the day after kids club ended, I packed my bags and headed off to a week of leading on a high school camp. 
I can’t explain to you what I was thinking, because the easiest summary is that I wasn’t. I was trying to think of how to write a post-camp blog post yesterday, and my head was just spinning from two weeks of not sticking to my usual strict regimen. My hair is frizzy because I didn’t have time to wash it properly, and my face is breaking out because of what, stress? Lack of sleep? An unusual amount of physical exercise for someone who used to sit at a desk for nine hours a day? 

And I realised the only thing that is still true after two weeks, and maybe six months of falling down a rabbit hole of insanity, is that God is good. 
In the past six months, I have had my first major break up, transitioned into a new church, started uni, finished up with my old Sunday School, started a new one, and quit my job. But while my head has been spinning, “on Christ my solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”
With no planning, I expected last week to be hard and disorganised. But I was surrounded by a team of people who trusted and loved God and worked to include but not overwhelm me. This week, I expected to be awful because the last high school camp I went on I was completely out of my depth. But once again, I was surrounded by a team of people who worked endlessly to pull their weight and make sure I was okay, plus I was blessed with an amazing group of girls and co leader. 

And for those two weeks, every time I thought about getting a job, a sense of panic began to well up inside of me, but I have been reminded time and time again- even when we are skeptical, God will never let us down. It’s just not in his nature. 
So, when none of my girls seemed to respond to the talks, I decided God has a plan for them, and I’m just not watching it play out yet. When I got half a dozen rejections for jobs I’d applied for, I figured I would just keep praying. And when I woke up each day at six thirty in the morning and it was dark, and freezing, and my eyes kept gluing shut during prayer in the leaders meetings, I reminded myself that this was a chance to prepare to make camp the quality God had in mind for it to be. 
On the last night of camp, we had a time for people to tell their testimonies. The amount of kids who are struggling with situations at home, at school and even struggling with demons in their own heads was heart breaking. And yet, in amongst it all, there was this incredible sense of hope. Because, as Christians, we know that even when we have no idea what is going on, and everything seems like it is just falling apart, God has got us and he knows what he has in store. It is for our good, and not to hurt us. 

I was reminded during one of the talks of a verse where Jesus says God is going to prune us- to non gardeners, it seems odd to cut off what seemed to be fruitful and beautiful branches, to leave the tree smaller and bleeding sap. But to those who know what they are doing, they know those trees are only going to produce more fruit, even if it takes a while. 
I have decided, in the end, that I’m not going to look for a job for the next two weeks of my uni holidays. When I go back to uni, I only have a little while before I’m on practical placement, so it makes sense logically, but also I started to think that maybe the reason I haven’t found a job is because instead of rushing to find one, and panicking about the future, maybe I just need to stop and rest for a while. I have worked full time during every holiday I’ve had since the beginning of last year. My longest actual “do-nothing, have-fun” holiday has been three days. 

I want to enjoy life instead of worry about the future. 

I want to spend time with the people I love instead of listening to the fear and the panic that has been fuelling me for a while now. 

I want to trust God. 

What if?

I feel like the world is trying to live in a paradox.

One where everybody wants to be loved for who they are, but only love certain parts of themselves. One where people are hurt when they are not accepted, but do not accept others. One where we are all striving for something- we may not be sure what it is, but we’ll know when we get there.

There seems to be a lack of satisfaction within my generation. On social media, we make fun of ourselves for how self deprecating we are, posting about our insatiable desire for validation in an attempt to gain some “likes”. The irony of it is not lost on me. Perhaps this resounds throughout history, but the sound of it is just getting louder.

That we would present ourselves to society and expect everyone to accept us does not seem possible. Surely, in a world full of unique individuals, it would stand to reason that you cannot expect 100% of the population to agree on anything, including [but by no means limited to] your fashion statement, sexuality or religious beliefs. Furthermore, this seems like such an impossibility to me because we are bound by a tendency to not even completely accept ourselves. Take, for instance, in dating. One partner would have it that they are loved completely and wholly, mistakes and quirks included. That when they are irritated, it is for a reason and that is understood and absorbed by their significant other. When they indulge in bad habits, it is taken with a pinch of salt as it’s just “who they are”. And yet, there are things about us that, no matter how much we try, we cannot love. Memories that lurk, regrets woven into our personality, a temptation to be what we are tired of fighting. And yet, when we are rejected, even be it by one person in a sea of admirers, we take it to heart, and moan that no one truly understands.

And what about tolerance?

That what I say is the truth and what you have to say is a combination of your upbringing, background and probably some misunderstanding. Deep down, it makes me feel better to think you’re a little bit foolish for thinking in such a way. And of course we can’t discuss or explore our differences on the off chance someone will say something even remotely challenging, because that wouldn’t be… tolerating me. That might hurt. That might take some time and energy to understand. And I would rather not, thank you.

What about this sense that the world is not right? That we may never be able to make it right, what with all the violence and pain and hungry and global warming, for heaven’s sake, on top of all that. And we just don’t know how to fix it, but we know we have to so we’d better buy recycled toilet paper and give a dollar to the Salvo’s man.

I will here suggest something that will seem impossible.

Just as impossible as being accepted.

Just as impossible as everyone being tolerating.

Just as impossible as saving the world.

That there has been an answer all along.

What if there was someone who knew all of your flaws before you’d even really met them, and loved you completely? Loved you enough that, despite knowing everything you are ashamed of and afraid of, they died for you? Someone to fulfil your greatest desire of knowing that all the pieces of you weren’t to be displayed or hidden, but were puzzle pieces that form a beautiful picture.

What if there was an ultimate truth? Some people fight over what it may be, some people argue it doesn’t exist. But what if it did? And it was all mapped out, by someone who knew what they were doing? And it sort of just… felt right? A list of directions, so to speak, that you’d always been trying to follow, to a point, all laid out for you. A list of directions you could point others to. You always knew eggs, sugar and milk went together but now you’ve found a precise recipe.

And, what if there was a point?. A way to fix everything? And someone who was willing to do it, save the world? To make things right and beautiful again?

Maybe there is.

I believe there is.

I believe it’s Christ who loves you, Christianity which directs you, and God who is going to save the world.

And if you disagree with me, that’s fine. Just tolerate my opinions.

The Easy Swaps

I don’t often do reviews- indeed, this part of my blog is the least attended to. However, today I address my secret dream of being a beauty vlogger and speak out about one of my passions- the environment. 
I stopped fooling myself it was easy to just not buy anything ever a while ago. Like most females, my skin is constantly too oily or too dry, and I have the impulse to look pretty on certain occasions. Like every one else, my sneakers wear through. So, here is a post on the “easy swaps” I’ve made this or last year, on a journey of taking better care of the planet. 
Why, you ask? Because, as consumers, we have power in our pockets. There is a power in what we support, or rather in which brands we support which practice good behaviours. So, when you engage brain and a little bit of research before wallet, good things come out of it. Standards go up for other companies, and prices go down. Furthermore, everything on this list is made in Australia as well as not being tested on animals and every other standard I could test it against. 
 Let’s get into it. 

EVERYONE

Etiko sneakers.

The only brand with an A rating on the ‘Ethical Rating Website’, these guys caught my attention. They sell sneakers and clothes similar to Converse, but give you an entire speil at the bottom of every page as to how they are different. Organic cotton, fair trading certificates and environmentally friendly rubber, all for the same price. Mine took a little while to break in, but now they’re pretty confortable. I’m just waiting for someone to call them knock-offs so I can give them the run-down. 

  

Lucas’ Papaw Ointment
Everyone knows this. I just realised it was a great swap for my assortment of lip balms, and also works on everything else. Made in Australia, pure fermented fruit and not tested on anyone or anything. Beware of phonies who do add chemicals to take the price down a dollar or two. 

  
“The Horse” Leather Watches

I figure a few people might disagree with my definition of ethical at this point, but hold up a second. There are plenty of bad quality watches out there with synthetic bands. I would much rather support the environment with a long-lasting watch, which I don’t constantly have to change the batteries of, than fill land-fill with my cheap attempts at “trying to help”. Furthermore, these guys are situated in North Sydney and are super nice [a couple of my mates went to check out their warehouse last year]. 

  

ARGUABLY AIMED AT FEMALES 

ASAP Creams [but especially the night one]

I don’t have time to apply moisturiser in the morning. So, I like one I can put on at night that keeps me covered for the day. These guys make their stuff in Australia, don’t test on animals, the stuff smells amazing. However… it is pretty pricey. There’s an Australian run company called “Adore Beauty” who do amazing things [free shipping, promos, run by two women, give you a free Tim Tam with every order], which is where I got a free sample of this stuff from, and I actually think I will purchase it again. However, I can understand why one would shirk it. [They do have their own website, but it’s way too intimidating and doesn’t come with Tim Tam.]

Organic Care Products

I had never regularly used conditioner until last year. Truthfully, it was an ad for fabric softener that alerted me to the fact it’s there so your hair isn’t constantly frizzy and all over the place, which I had never known. Anyway, I was already buying soap and shampoo from these guys, but their conditioner is such a happy thing to use- it feels good, smells good and the bottle is aesthetically pleasing. The inside goodness is all natural, vegan, grey-water safe and uses sustainable palm oil [because boy-cotting doesn’t work as well as finding a solution to a problem]. The outside [bottle] is recyclable and already 100% recycled. Australian made and owned, and about $3.50 at Coles. 

  
Goodness Products

These are from New Zealand- I’m sorry to have let down that front. However, they deserve an honorable mention because they are so good. The once a week scrub has not let me down for smelling good and getting gunk out of my skin. The daily moisturiser is okay, but as I said I don’t wear day moisturiser often due to time. The under-eye cream is pretty good, especially for its price compared to other eye-creams, and I am excited to try their night cream. It’s good stuff, very well priced, easy to get [you can get a try-box off Adore Beauty for $25], all natural and not tested on animals. 

  
DEFINITELY FOR FEMALES

Giftbox

I had heard about this sort of stuff going on in America, but I’m happy to hear it’s now in Australia too. Buy a box of tampons, give a box of tampons. Organic, cotton, giving to charity- make a bad time of the month slightly better. 

The Christian Feminist

Do you believe that women should be equal to men?

If you said yes, you’re a feminist. 

[Sorry if you were getting ready to fight me, it’s actually quite a simple principle.]

Feminism isn’t like a meringue- with precise measurements, and needing a lot of whipping into the perfect white shape. It’s more like being given the order of a “cake”. You can add or take away based on your own wants and passions, but there are a few foundational things without which it would not be counted as cake. 

As soon as you begin to believe that women are not considered or treated as equals globally, you begin to understand feminism. That women’s clothes and gendered products are more expensive despite the fact they get paid less, that displays of emotion are seen as feminine [and not masculine], that there are clear gender stereotypes, women can’t work in some societies, pornography and the sex slave trade are booming, and issues of domestic violence, sexual abuse, and harassment are deeply woven into every society. Once you start to think about all of this, it’s actually rather easy to consider the feminist perspective.

However, last night I was faced with a lady who had decided not to be known as feminist because she was a Christian, and so here I have decided to outline what I believe feminism means for Christians, both male and female. 

To keep it short and simple, I will list 3 cans and can’ts. 

A Christian feminist can be a Christian and a feminist. 

This seems remarkably obvious to me, but was not to the lady last night. She argued that feminism challenges the very foundations of what it means to be a woman, and destroys the ideas and purposes God has laid out for us. That feminism argues against the idea of [particularly a male] headship. However, a Christian feminist should listen to God as much as a normal feminist would listen to whoever is teaching her how to drive when she’s on her L plates. He is still sovereign, the Creator and loving. Like with science, political views need to correspond with biblical teaching, but often cover other or additional areas. Science explains the how, feminism explores a response to fighting for justice in a sinful world. 

I believe that feminism gives Christian women an opportunity to express freely what and who God has created them to be. In societies around the world, women are told what to wear, who to marry and how to behave. Feminism fights for a world where a woman is valued just because of who she is, while Christianity fights for a world where a woman is valued just because of who God sees her as. If they work together, they can achieve aa world where God is sovereign and a woman can recognise how much she is to be loved despite her appearance, grades or social status. A world where a woman is not defined by whether she is dating, but simply by her relationship with Christ. 

A Christian feminist can decide what they will and will not support and still call themselves a feminist. 

Many Christians disagree with abortion and same sex marriage. Honestly, some Christian women are uncomfortable not shaving their legs, wearing make up or having short hair. But this doesn’t mean they are excluded from the movement of feminism. This just means they are choosing their battles with another perspective. You should not purposely ignore every invitation to go to a rally which supports or opposes something because it is based on feminism [for instance, political rallies, mental health days, fundraisers for organisations which benefit females]. Indeed, it is probably more helpful to present a positive Christian influence than to withdraw from a name for fear of incorrect association. 

A Christian feminist can disagree with other Christians and still call themselves a feminist. 

I disagree with the woman from last night about a couple of the things she said, and that’s okay. Just like with church and Bible study, and everywhere else I get challenged on things in the Bible, it means I have to have a humble heart and allow myself to be challenged before I write people off. Sometimes quarrels are unnecessary, and weirdly, she might just end up fighting for things that I do under a different name. But that doesn’t mean neither of us can be feminist. Complementarians and egalitarians alike can be feminist, Protestant and Catholic- as I say, anyone who thinks women should have equal rights to men.

A Christian feminist cannot choose feminism over Christianity. 

There are admittedly times where it seems preferable to ignore what the Bible is clearly saying to follow everyone else. However, we simply should not compromise our faith to follow an easier or more popular path. There are many issues many feminists support which I do not believe actually benefit women or their rights, due to my understanding of God’s plan for the world. That means I cop some flack. Christ will always come before anything of this world.

A Christian feminist cannot purposely do things just to bug others. 

This is a weird one, but it is one that was brought up last night and has stuck with me. Another of my friends doesn’t believe in feminism because she recognises all of the things the word is attached with rather than the simple definition I began this blog post with [whiny middle class “slacktivists” who are happy to retweet other people’s opinions but refuse to change their lifetyles, and wish to oppress men. For example, my high school drama teachers, who didn’t recognise a need for the male gender at all.] [I do not subscribe to this view.]

 Popping the word “Christian” on the front means that, wherever we are, whatever we are doing, we still have a mandate to be kind and loving. To not shove our opinions in other people’s faces unhelpfully, and to test every opinion that comes our way before mindlessly adopting it. The woman last night said she purposely shaved her head and ignored authority because it annoyed men, and that’s what [she thought] feminism is. However, there is a way to fight for better rights and still be helpful, meek and humble. I have shaved my head, but it wasn’t to shove it in anyone’s face [it was for charity]. I still have short hair, not because I despise femininity but because it’s practical, and, I believe, better for the environment. As with everything in life, consider how it affects others, how others perceive it and what you would say if you were asked a question about it.

A Christian feminist should not be scared. 

There are many scary things in the world today, and often the feminist movement has an urgency about it. However, the best thing about being a Christian feminist is that I know I am fighting to make this world better, but a day is coming where there will be no inequality, no fear of the future. A Christian feminist doesn’t have to worry about what other people think, or when other people disagree with her, as long as she is fighting for a world which is like God’s kingdom. 

In conclusion, I believe every Christian should be a feminist, no matter whether they’re male or female, and no matter how many of the “extras”/hashtags/movements they partake in. I think feminism campaigns for a world like God wanted, where men and women worked together not for themselves, their individual genders or the competition of it all, but for God’s kingdom come, his will done and earth like it is in heaven. 

The Book Store

  

Today I walked into one of the most beautiful book stores I have ever been in. 

Sometimes book stores just have this aura- this sense that the walls are lined with stories and not just printed pages. I wanted to thumb each spine and read every word. What really caught my eye were these reimagined covers of some old classics. They had gold edged pages and were intricately designed- you could tell someone had really put thought into how to capture the essence of the story and not just rebrand an old tale to sell again. 

It may have been the light pitter patter of rain outside in the dark, or the warm glow of fairy lights- I can be manipulated by atmosphere like any fool. But I think it was more the smell, of new books and the fresh leather goods they had for sale. I think it was the smile of the shop keeper, who left their store open for wanderers like myself. I think it was the sense that this store wasn’t just selling a product but something special, like each book was a present with a surprise inside. 

This is true- when I got in the car, virtually dragged away (by the words “I am parked illegally and will leave without you”), my mum said when I was little I had entered a writing competition in that very book store (and won). I have absolutely no recollection of this. But it is fact that, since I was young, I have loved to read and write. To tell my stories and to make people laugh with them. 

However, receiving stories is just as fun as creating them. Reading books has always been a way to expand my mind, take me places and remind me of a world that is not half bad. A world full of magic and justice and love- although rare in their purest forms, they exist. Good will triumph over evil, the girl will get the guy and the world will keep on spinning, a little better for its heroes. 

And to step inside a book store is to step into a world of possibilities. 

To step inside a good book store is like flying into that world.