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All Kinds

I am a hopeless romantic. 

But wait. That doesn’t make sense, because romantics are the ones who do hope, even when it makes more sense not to. They’re the ones who dare to pursue ideals, chasing the shimmering tail of a shooting star even as it fades from sight. Offer a romantic a glimpse of beauty and she cannot forget it.

Romantics envisage a world where moments have meaning, and souls, significance. They give gravity to a stolen glance, a simple gesture, the light in a room, or the timbre of a voice.

Of course, romantics are idiots. I am an idiot, but I’d like to be an articulate one. You see, romantics struggle to accept reality because they conflate how things are with how they ‘could’ or ‘should’ be. They mind-wander down a thousand roads not taken, set up camp in the land of dreams, and embark on rambling soliloquies. 😉 And they feel so intensely it exhausts not only them, but the people around them. Romantics are the sods who are moved to tears watching Toy Story, because ‘Woody doesn’t want to be left behind!’ and ‘Buzz believed he could fly, and he can’t!’. Since romantics care too much and hope too hard, they often take on the emotion of others’ as their own. They are the pathetic people who can’t bear nature documentaries, because they know they’ll end up yelling at the TV screen as a seagull closes in on a baby turtle, slipping on sand as it tries to reach the ocean.

NO! COME ON, TURTLE! HURRY! NO, NO – YOU HAVEN’T EVEN LIVED YET!

In a word, romantics are annoying. They need level-headed friends who can tell them, ‘I’m pretty sure the shooting star’s gone now, and maybe it doesn’t make sense to keep tromping around all night in the dark after it.’ Or stuff like, ‘You know, the movie’s not real – but here’s a reminder: the toys work stuff out.’ And, while watching documentaries, these same friends chime in with, ‘Don’t look right now. Oh cool, the turtle made it. Yeah, it really did. No, I’m not lying. Jeez, that was one time, and you weren’t s’posed to be looking…’.

Yeah, romantics sure are a handful. But this world needs all kinds of people, and I think maybe romantics and pragmatists help each other. Pragmatists need reminders that’s it’s okay to feel vividly and look for beauty and wonder, so they don’t become pessimists. And romantics need a little grounding so they’re not overwhelmed by emotion.

So maybe romantics aren’t hopeless after all.

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THE ULTIMATE LIST OF (IM)POSSIBLE DREAMS

The beginning of a new year always prompts me to think about what I want to accomplish. I usually realise that I lost my list of resolutions from the previous year, or achieved a couple of my goals but forgot about the rest.

Yesterday I caught up with one of my friends, and we talked about writing an ULTIMATE LIST OF (IM)POSSIBLE DREAMS. One that includes goals not just for this year, but for your whole life. Too often we tell ourselves that the things we want the most are out of reach. I’m asking you to let yourself think of everything you truly want, and then write it all down.

Yes, I realise that completing a draft of this list may take a while. That’s okay.

But only include goals you really want to accomplish. Not the things someone else has told you you should want. Or the things that you want right in this second (‘To eat a dozen doughnuts!’) – that you probably won’t want in the next minute. Don’t write down passing whims; write down recurring dreams you can’t shake even when you’ve been told to, and record the little things that are big to you. Use the ULTIMATE LIST OF (IM)POSSIBLE DREAMS to savour moments, celebrate victories, and remember what you’re chasing.

I’m not saying that we should all expect to become movie-stars or billionaires, or even that a lot of people would want to. I just think it’s good to be honest with yourself about what you want. That way, you can prioritise and try to make some of those hazy fictions you’ve imagined for yourself into realities.

Here are a few examples of goals on my list:15682726_10154824814752152_786379100_n

  • Learn how to cook vegetarian lasagne.
  • See a whale.
  • See Uluru in person.
  • Create a secret passageway in my home.
  • Play the role of Mercutio in a stage production.

I’ve already done the first two (years ago), but they’re on the list because they were life goals that mattered to me. I still cook lasagne, and now I should add something to the list like ‘Learn how to make cannelloni by myself!’, because that would also give me a sense of satisfaction. (Okay, I like Italian food.)

I’ve seen Beluga and Humpback whales, and I love them. Whales are magnificent. They fill me with awe. If you haven’t seen one yet, please consider adding it to your list.

As for the others… Well, I’ve wanted to see Uluru for a jolly long time, and it’s really up to me to save some money and make it happen. I don’t want to climb Uluru – I know it’s sacred to the Aborigines – I just want to see it. Stand in front of the great beating heart of Australia. Breathe in desert air and red rock. Look up at the endless summer sky out in the middle of my country.

Now, this is my list – not yours. It would be easy to shoot down the things on my list. ‘You can see sky anywhere; look out the window!’. That’s what I can imagine some people saying. When I went to London with my sister, our mutual friend expressed a lack of interest in the London Eye and told us drolly that it was ‘just a big Ferris wheel’. This comment amused me, but I also felt compelled to point out that the fete-style attraction held a certain appeal for a lot of other people, if not for him.

But back to the piece of my list: who doesn’t want a secret passageway? I mean, come on. Come on. I could feel like one of The Three Investigators! I could host Murder Mystery nights!

It would be amazing.

Oh, and as for Mercutio? Well, this is one dream that I accept may not become a reality. I do understand that Mercutio is traditionally played by a man. But I think casting a woman would be an interesting reinterpretation, especially considering the theory some hold about Mercutio’s sexuality. If the director decides that Mercutio is secretly in love with Romeo, then how might that part be explored by a woman? And what kind of sharp contrasts could be drawn between Romeo’s best friend and Juliet, if Mercutio was female?

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Anyway, I’m going to include aspirations like ‘Play the part of Mercutio’, even if the chance of it coming to pass seems downright ridiculous or at least improbable. After all, this is my ULTIMATE LIST OF (IM)POSSIBLE DREAMS – and I want the freedom to think big.

I don’t expect everything I want to happen and I know that plenty of goals are, at least in part, dependent on other people. But I will work for the things that matter most to me and try to put myself in a position to get what I want… and I’ll remind myself to enjoy the journey. Because spending time with family and friends and doing things like making lasagne and daydreaming all counts.

So, if you want, make your own ULTIMATE LIST OF (IM)POSSIBLE DREAMS. If you tell anyone about it, try to say the whole title in caps – the way I’ve typed it. 😛 Doing so will remind you that whatever made the list is capital-letter important to you. (And talking at capital-letter volume has the added bonus of baffling or annoying whoever you’re talking to!) 😉

Oh, and one more thing. I’ve always wanted to write stories and get them published. So, knowing that later this year I will have a book in bookshops makes my heart swell.

My narrative, The Whirlpool, has been accepted for publication by Wombat Books. Working with Rochelle Manners and Emily Lighezzolo has been a pleasure, and I love the book’s beautiful illustrations by Helene Magisson. My story has become a tangible thing. I’ll let you know when it’s available.

Most dreams aren’t impossible. If you reach, sometimes dreams come true.

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Blurred Realities

Skynet is on the rise.
It begins with games like Pokemon Go. Games that tap into the GPS and camera functions on your phone. Your Smartphone. Is anyone else concerned about all of the intelligent technology?
People are actually working on inventing spiritual machines. As in, machines that can make decisions independently. Sure it’s clever, but I just keep thinking, ‘Didn’t you people see Terminator?!’.
I know, I know – I sound paranoid. And the truth is, part of me is super-psyched about Pokemon Go. I mean, it’s flashing me back to primary school days, running around the oval with my buddies at lunchtime, playing a game I called ‘Catch Pokemon’, where, funnily enough you…Well, you guessed it. And I’ve also been remembering dashing around the backyard and jumping on the trampoline with my sisters – pretending to BE Pokemon. (I was Squirtle.)
90s kids are going nuts for Pokemon Go because it’s a chance to play out a childhood fantasy. My friends and I used to project ourselves into the world of Pokemon, using our imaginations. ‘Look, t
13592289_10210045455952323_8666147970104975950_nhere’s a Kangaskhan over there! No, behind THAT tree!’ Now, we can look at our screens and see two worlds collide. Yesterday, I watched a Charmander balance on the frying pan in my kitchen. At first I was worried about him getting burnt, and then I realised how silly that was. I mean, he’s a FIRE Pokemon. Duh.
And so, even though my natural inclination is to romanticise the past and distrust modern technology – and I keep thinking about the inherent dangers of allowing something to pinpoint my every movement – I have decided to embrace this new phenomenon. I’ve said, yes, please use my email account
, track my steps, and plug me into the Matrix. There are Pokemon inside.
World domination was never so easy.
And being a willing participant in Skynet’s uprising was never so much fun!