Like many other people I suspect, I’ve been blown away by the actions of the Parkland students, in response to the terrible tragedy that occurred at their school. Shockingly, these children are being forced to become political activists in the face of the appalling apathy shown by the adults who are meant to care for them.
As an Australian, I find this hard to comprehend. We had a massive gun buy-back after a mass shooting in the 90s and there have been no comparable events since. Prioritising gun ownership over lives is valuing our fears over love. It just seems wrong.
The Parkland High students have recently been given clear plastic schoolbags to ‘keep them safe’. The idea is that no one can hide a gun in a clear bag (um, they could just put another bag inside it, surely. Doh!) The students are not happy about this pathetic gesture, not to mention the invasion of their privacy (tampons!), and have decorated the bags to express their displeasure.
Easter is a time of hope. It therefore seems the perfect moment to explore the riveting survival tale of the Jewish man who tattoed prisoners at the Auschwitz concentration camp during World War 2. His story has not come to light until now because of the incredible guilt he carried about what he was forced to do to his fellow prisoners.
I was lucky enough to see Ed Sheeran in concert the other night, with the added bonus of one of my favourite Australian musical acts, Missy Higgins, thrown in. I bought the ticket a couple of hours beforehand on impulse. It was a beautiful Melbourne day, the concert had been getting rave reviews, and I have a soft spot for Missy (even more than Ed).
This led me to wonder about the Tarot of a Music Concert.
My latest television obsession is a Netflix program called ‘Grace and Frankie’.
I don’t know why I enjoy this show so much. I’m not really a series kind-of girl. I prefer my television short and sharp, like mini-series or movies. In a long-term drama character development can often stop making sense in an effort to maintain the excitement.
But I like this one. Maybe because it’s a bit like a middle-age Friends. I enjoy watching the characters negotiate the little everyday challenges that can be thrown your way later on in life.
My air conditioner’s broken and it’s 39 degrees outside. Tomorrow it’s going to be 42. Luckily I have a lovely air-conditioner mechanic who’s going to pop by in the morning to give the pipes a squiz. In the meantime I get an instant sweat lodge which’ll give me a thorough New Year’s detox. Oh yay!
Even though the cavalry is on its way, I still feel panicky at the thought of having to sweat my way through the next 24 hours. It’s made me ponder the Tarot of First World Problems… Continue reading →
I’ve just finished reading Marian Keyes’ novel ‘The Break’. Most peeps who like to write like to read. And I am no exception. It’s always a bit of fun to investigate the Tarot of everyday life. So let’s dive deep into the Tarot of ‘The Break’. No spoilers, I promise. Continue reading →
It took a few weeks for me to feel the New Year’s vibe this year. Usually I rock a solid introvert theme on this night. I stay home and reflect on the year ahead. Maybe do a Tarot spread if I’m feeling that way inclined. But for the first time ever I went down to my hometown’s waterfront and watched the pretty lights explode. I’ve lived here for over 20 years so I figured I should join the mainstream at least once. And this year was it. My brain was still fried from 2017 overload so I wasn’t in a reflecting kinda zone anyways.
Most of the time some kind of motto or plan about the year ahead comes to me in advance, which I then focus on manifesting during New Year’s Eve. Obs that didn’t happen this year. Rather, a thought has slowly crystallised over the last week or so (better late than never!) And it’s this: Evolution rather than revolution.
A nudge is a little push. Animals nudge their young to steer them in the right direction. And now behavioural scientists are suggesting parents use this strategy as well, to steer their young in the right direction.
One of the most famous English folktales is ‘The Boy Who Cried Wolf’. The story goes that a young shepherd would trick his fellow villagers by shouting for help, pretending that wolves were attacking his sheep. Several times the villagers rushed to his aid, only to discover the shepherd laughing at them. Of course, when a wolf really did attack, no-one came to his aid.
This week local officials in my hometown pleaded for people to stop “crying wolf” because… Continue reading →