Category: Matters of the Heart

The Small Challenges of a Hiking Trip in Slovenia and Croatia.

Last September I went on a trip with an all-female, hiking group through Slovenia and Croatia. It was fabulous and the scenery was even more stunning than I expected. The tour was twelve days of activity, some of them hard work, carrying our day packs and our bodies up and down mountains and along forest-dense gorges that followed rivers so glacial-green they looked almost as cold as they were. Some days were practically strolls in comparison, meanders along the Adriatic Coast where we stopped every so often to have a swim in the crystal-clear sea. It would be easy to rave about the wonders of each day, and in my last blog post I said I would. But I’ve decided there’s already enough raving out there in other blogs, documentaries and coffee-table books. The place is beautiful. If you can, go.

What I’m going to talk about are small challenges I experienced on the trip and what I learned from them.

I booked the trip a year in advance. Being a solo woman who loves travel and hiking, it was impossible to go past an ad from a company called Camino Women, a hiking group from Australia which was offering a guided multi-day hiking adventure in a region high on my bucket list. I paid a deposit quicker than I could do up my laces.

The year passed quickly, as years do, and despite torrential rain interfering with training and shonky knees getting shonkier, I was fit and packed and ready to climb mountains.

At the Meet and Greet in Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia, the group’s two local guides led us up Rožnik Hill, ostensibly to see the view of the city but most likely to test us out. Of course, none of us wanted to be deemed slow, so all twelve middle-aged women climbed the hill at a cracking pace, clearly passing the first challenge of keeping up whilst talking. Our guides then explained that the terrain we had just experienced was a gentle taste of what was to come – tree roots, slope, loose stones and soil – and asked if we all had poles, which I didn’t. Telescopic walking aids had never been on my list and frankly, I didn’t really like them. But seeing the expression on the guides’ faces was enough to convince me I needed some before we left town. A hiking shop was found, and I chose the black carbon pair with pink lever locks for obvious aesthetic reasons.

When we set off on the first day, poles awkwardly in hands, it was wet. Lake Bled was mystically beautiful in the mist and the steep dirt track up to the lookout was slippery. I quickly learned how useful the poles were, anchoring three points (one foot, two tips) to the ground while clambering up and down ungroomed slopes. The other benefit was how much weight I could take off my knees, simply by using the strength in my upper body. I was an immediate convert.

What let me down that day was my poor choice of raincoat. Having opted to bring the lightweight one instead of my heavier, higher quality one, I was drenched by lunchtime and cold and miserable. Thankfully, that was the end of the day’s hike, and I was able to recover with a hearty hot lunch and a glass of Simčič, Slovenian red wine. Next time, though, I won’t skimp on my equipment just to save carrying a few extra grams.

A constant challenge was the ground itself. Slovenia is predominantly limestone, a rock that can be smooth and slippery, or like shattered marbles shifting underfoot. Stones big enough to tread on can be jagged with edges like blades, and unstable. Where the soil is shallow over the limestone base, roots of trees criss-cross the track like scenes from a horror movie. Each step needed to be taken carefully and time and time again, I was grateful for my poles which saved me from tripping or twisting an ankle. Looking at the ground so much did mean having to stop to look up now and then, but even along the track there are things to admire: lichens and mosses, fungi and teeny flowers, worms and the occasional small snake. What’s right in front of you can be the best view.  

Of course there were the challenges of being in a group: getting along with multiple personalities, sharing a room when you haven’t shared since you were married, being ready on time, and fitting in with a schedule. But these are the things that make group travel fun and easy too. There’s always someone to share a story with or learn from, someone who’ll lend you something you don’t have, or collaborate with when you want something different. In this group we bonded over tea. It wasn’t readily available in Slovenia (who knew that was possible?) and half of us were addicts, so finding, storing and sharing tea bags became a thing. I don’t know that would have happened in a mixed-gender group. Women know how to look after one another and are sympathetic to such critical needs. We can hunt and gather and be honest about our feelings. And particularly in a hiking group, the women are likely to be strong, uncomplaining, make-up free, and unpretentious. Certainly, this group was. Getting along was really no challenge at all.

I’d be happy to do a trip like this again. The benefits of challenges and learning aside, immersion in nature and a new culture with a bunch of purposeful, wilderness-loving women could hardly be bettered.

My poles and I became best friends and despite being chosen for their looks, they stood me in good stead right up until the end. On the last day I fell sideways on sharp rocks, and one took the brunt. As I lifted myself up and saw it snapped in two, I felt like it had sacrificed itself for me and nearly cried. A friend behind said, thank God it wasn’t your tibia. True. That would indeed have been a challenge too awful to bear.

https://caminowomen.com.au/

Is Travel Worth the Trouble?

It’s been said that we travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us. As I faced my most recent travel trials, I had pause to reflect on this and wonder if it was true.

I enjoy my life at home. Fortunately, I have no reason to want to escape it. I’m retired; I live by the sea; my friends and family are nice; the climate is good and there’s little danger. But I’m often tempted by images of other beautiful landscapes and stories of different cultures and find myself hurtling towards another trip, just to experience more.

When we’re travelling, we’re learning, we’re adjusting, we’re seeing, hearing, smelling, and feeling new things. That’s where the statement proves true. Life is bigger. And even when there’s challenges, as often there are, it’s worth it.

On my way to Croatia from Sydney, I hadn’t even left Australia before I faced my first one. A one hour stop in Perth grew into twenty-one hours due to a mechanical problem. Six hours waiting in Perth airport turned into a scramble at 10.45pm for one of the few taxis around, an online search for a hotel (thank technology for smart phones and Booking.com), a late night dinner order, a one hour phone call to Webjet to change my connecting flight Rome to Dubrovnik (I can’t praise Webjet more highly for sorting this out for me), an email to my travel agent to cancel my first day’s arrangements and another hotel booking for my midnight arrival in Rome. By Sydney’s clock, it was 2am by the time I was able to rest. I had achieved what I needed to, despite not normally functioning well at night, despite being afraid of failing somehow, despite not having anyone to share the stress with. I went to bed feeling it was all par for the course and proud of myself for managing. When my fellow travellers and I congregated at the gate for the flight the next day, we felt friendly and exchanged stories about the night, the connections, the reasons for our trips. We were unified and while waiting for our luggage in the almost deserted Rome airport, we helped one another activate our eSims and gathered in a group to make our way to the not-so-easy-to-find airport hotel. There was a feeling of camaraderie which somewhat compensated for the vexation. As a solo traveller I find myself magnetised to smiling middle-agers (usually women) when I need support. A one-minute connection often resolves a problem or boosts my resilience.

The next day, on hearing that an airport ground-staff strike in Rome (that followed the nationwide train strike) would mean my luggage might not get loaded, I stuffed essentials and two days’ worth of clothes into my carry-on daypack and headed back to the terminal. The check-in guy was reassuring – Don’t worry about it, he said in his thick Italian accent. So I chose not to. I had done everything I could to prepare for the worst and still felt optimistic about the best. When my luggage appeared on the Dubrovnik airport carousel, I was elated and excited again about my holiday. I had notched up my resilience level and learned I could cope. I was in a new land, and it was worth it. As I stepped into the sparkling Adriatic Sea and swam as the sun went down, I counted my blessings and acknowledged that life was indeed, not escaping me.

Next post, I’ll share my trip to Croatia and Slovenia, recommend some fabulous fun Must Do adventures and share my take on joining a small group hiking tour. It wasn’t all easy, but it was all worth it.

Arrival in Dubrovnik

Finding Fun

Because writing a novel is hard and takes a long time, it’s nice to be able to step aside for a while and write something else, especially something relatively quick and personal.

I have a little story here that I recently wrote and had published in the Society of Women Writers’ magazine, Women’s Ink, for their 100th year anniversary. It’s a story about a recent adventure I had with a bunch of women friends. They pushed me outside my comfort zone and taught me that the campervan life was a lot of good fun. So, here’s the story and I hope you enjoy it.

Finding Fun

Listening to the rain as I lie in the dark, I ask myself if this is fun. I’m dry. I’m warm. Actually, I’m quite cosy. But the noise of water on metal is loud and the boxy motorhome is shuddering. A clunk reminds me that I’m camped in a forest of gum trees, tall and spindly things, young and limber. Not widow-makers, fortunately. I wonder how my gutsy friend is coping in the swag. Is she still dry? Is she safe? Should I get up and go out, bring her inside to sleep on my floor? Would she already have crept inside one of the other girls’ vans since we’re all parked together in a commune-like square? We’re in this together, I remember one declaring before we left the last camp, a spontaneous and abrupt decision as another read the weather report. Shithouse weather approaching, the BOM said. We should go, Wonder Woman said. Waiting til tomorrow would mean setting up in the storm and possibly getting bogged. They all agreed. But, but… I said, panicking because that wasn’t the plan and my mind isn’t pliable. I’d been thinking a cup of tea would be nice, and then perhaps a stroll on Jimmy’s beach… Later, I was told with much hilarity that I looked like a stunned mullet.

The corners of my mouth turn up. I stare at the shadow of carpet-lined ceiling and recall my friends leaping into action, jollying me along as the newest member of the group. As the novice – the princess in the rented, oversized, Maui – I got a lot of encouragement. Once they had packed up their compact, perfectly fitted-out campers they assisted me with mine, cooing over the toilet and shower, the electronic bed, the three-burner cooktop, and laughing as they guided me to empty the toilet cassette and unhook the grey-water hosepipe. They were supportive and enthusiastic, and determined that we would be well set up for the Xavier Rudd concert in the Hunter Valley the next night.

I climb down the ladder from my elevated nest. I lift the blind and peer out, see nothing but phantom shapes. The white vans glow grey, their awnings slicing the dark. The swag looks ominous – a long, black, indiscernible body. Apart from the shivering trees and the falling of exhausted leaves, there is no other movement. I can’t see the rain. I can’t see my friends. I can’t see any reason to go out into the eerie and wet world. I use the luxurious toilet, then climb back up to bed.

Curling up on my side I think of my gum boots, the mud, and the other competent campers who decided to setup on the grounds early. The rain started on nightfall, just as predicted. My gang are a clever bunch. I feel smug that I’m with them. They taught me to play a card game yesterday, the first in my life. It challenged me and made me happy. I pull up the doona, snuggle in and smile. Yes, this is fun.

I had so much fun on this trip, I ended up getting my own campervan, a Toyota HiAce I had fitted out myself and called Roxanne. I’m looking forward to more adventures with my friends, fun times I’ll be sure to write about.

How have you found new ways to have fun in the various stages of your life?

The Joy of Facebook Groups

We all know that Facebook can be both friend and foe. It can be the most fabulous connector and tool for sharing, and it can be a dismal platform for self-aggrandisement and unkindness. But since I use it in a positive way and have great success with it, I want to share some of my joy. In the last few years, much of that joy has come from Groups.

Living in two areas, one in Sydney and one down the south coast, I’m lucky to be included in two area Facebook Groups. Both are full of locals spreading news, asking questions and helping each other out. Sure, there’s the occasional sarcastic comment or harsh judgement, but mostly, it’s a source of information and generosity. I’ve found a cleaner, a handyman, and a gardener by asking for recommendations. I’ve heard about the dangerous intersections and local dramas, lost dogs and found rings, where the pizza van is and when the markets are on. I’ve read stories and shared stories of my own. I feel a part of the community and would encourage anyone new to the area to join.

An inspirational Group I’ve joined is Solo in Style: Women over 50 Travelling Solo and Loving It! It’s a convoluted name but it’s a great support network. Women share their journeys, not their whole holidays as they might with their friends, but as situational sisters, offering tips and warnings, asking questions like how to pack super-light or how to handle being placed in a back corner by a disrespectful maître de. Travellers ask how to explore a place most efficiently and get given advice so good I find myself making notes. Emotional support is offered when someone is lonely, and fearful newbies are encouraged and congratulated. Experienced soloers share their knowledge and it’s much appreciated. It’s a community of well-wishers and every woman in it is evolving.

The latest addition to my Facebook Groups is Toyota HiAce Australia. I recently bought a HiAce I’m planning to fit out as a camper, so I’m finding this niche group so helpful and a real treasure trove of ideas.

I’m a member of writing groups too, of course, and even a photography group.

It would be easy to while away the time scrolling through them all, but I don’t. I join in when I’m interested, or when I need something.

Facebook Groups connect us with like-minded people and allow us access to knowledge, experience, and support that we wouldn’t have otherwise. I think they’re great. What about you?

Letter from a Big Dog

Dear Dad,

Thanks for leaving me with Grandma, but you’ve been gone a long time. Where are you? When are you coming back? I wonder if I should escape and try to make it home. Sigh! I don’t think I could. I can’t exactly fit under the gate.

I don’t mind staying with Grandma, but some things could be better. I wish you’d tell her it would be nice if she let me sleep upstairs with her. Keeping me downstairs is bewildering. I could keep her company on the long, lonely nights if she let me sleep next to her bed. She wouldn’t even need to keep her eyes open since she could smell my eau de Dogue and hear my melodious snore. She doesn’t know what she’s missing, so would you please tell her to let down her guard – literally, the one that barricades the landing – and chill. I’ll do the rest. For your information, I did try to let her know that’s what I wanted; it might have been too subtle. I fitted myself, with some effort, along one of the steps, and attempted to sleep there. Fortunately, she snuck a look from top of the stairs to see if I was settled, noticed my awkward position and came down to put me back on my bed, but she didn’t invite me to go up with her. She’s a harder nut to crack than I thought. Still, I was grateful she got me off the step. Scrunched up as I was, I would’ve had a crook back by morning if I’d stayed there. You know, most of the time I don’t notice I’m such a big dog. I really feel quite small inside, which is why I get surprised when humans get flustered as I gallop to greet their furry companions or when I find myself blocking a passageway. Anyhoo…

Talking about my statuesque figure brings me to another point. Do you think you could persuade Grandma to buy a bigger car? One with a proper, big boot like ours? It’s nice for her that I can be so close when she’s driving, and I know she likes to have me breathing down her neck and looking over her shoulder, but being on the back seats isn’t my ideal. I can only lie along them; not move my rear around however I want. There is the advantage of the open window – when she thinks to put it down – and I do like poking my muzzle out and letting my floppy jowls flap in the breeze. But still, it’s undignified and when we’re stopped at the lights, dogs in other cars look at me funny. Really, if she continues to want to take me on long trips, she does need an appropriately dog-sized vehicle.

Speaking of stopping, like, outside of cars, does she ever? I follow her around the house trying to be a good companion, but when she finally sits and I’m all settled and starting to snore, she’ll jump up again and go someplace else. I force myself to snap out of my slumber to keep an eye on her, and sometimes I go to the trouble of pushing myself up off the floor to check on her, but then she’ll turn around and go back to where she started. I can’t understand it and I wonder why I bother. She can even repeat the same thing again five minutes later. It’s exhausting, I tell you. And she looks at me as though I’m simple.

Anyhow, I forgot to tell you about the scary storm the other night. I’m not exaggerating, it was like the sky dogs were in a battle and each time they growled and lunged at one another, lashings of spittle would spear the earth in gusty blasts and their gnashing teeth made blinding explosions. It was terrifying. And to prove that Grandma is a bit odd, I’ll tell you what she did when the noise and flashing and spit eased off a bit before bed. She opened the door and went outside! Then she called me! I had to pee, so I went but I didn’t dilly dally. I ran straight back inside. Next thing, Grandma’s strolling up the street picking up all the bins that had fallen over, even though she was getting wet, and the sky was still stroboscopic. The storm must have fried her brain! Seriously, I was close to crapping myself. And even with all that, she still left me downstairs. Don’t you think that’s mean? Even if I did get double treats.

The next day, on the drive to the river house, we stopped twice for Grandma to stretch her legs. She made me get out of the car both times and walk, which wasn’t too bad, really, especially because I persuaded her to give me treats to get back in. We had another walk before bed, but I think I must have been too distracted by the luscious aromas of roo poo and forgot to poo myself, because during the night, as I remembered the scary storm, I finally did crap myself. I didn’t mean to, of course, but it was a good-sized dump and had to come out. Grandma was asleep with the door closed so I chose a spot I didn’t think she’d find for a while, but surprisingly, she found it as soon as she got up. She must have felt guilty about the previous night because she just gave me breakfast without comment and when I came back inside, the crap was gone. She had already forgotten about it. Which is good, but you know, she is a bit vague sometimes. Anyway, Dad, sorry about the dump. But if Grandma hadn’t kept me out of her bedroom, I could have warned her it was coming.

Which brings me to where I’m sleeping. She put my bed in the lounge room, which in my opinion is too far away for comfort. I did the sad eyes, and she then moved it to the corridor, but then I decided I wanted to sleep in the guest room. I am a guest, after all, aren’t I? She didn’t kick me out – a moment of sanity – but she did move my bed back to the lounge room. Honestly, I don’t get why she just doesn’t let me sleep next to her.  It’s frustrating that she deprives herself like that, at her age.

So, the only thing left to tell you is how fit I’m getting. Grandma walks me three times a day: a small walk, a big walk and a wee walk. I go swimming and play with friends, Jack, Ronnie and Susie. They can be a bit temperamental, especially when I’m feeling bouncy, but they’re okay. They don’t scare me with their snarly faces and usually, we just get on with it and walk or fetch sticks. When Grandma lets me off the lead, I like to chase birds, especially ducks. Grandma calls my name, loudly, and I know she’s cheering me on, so I run faster. Sometimes she pulls snarly faces too.

Finally, I think you should let Grandma know I don’t speak her language. Sometimes she talks to me, and I have no idea what she’s saying. I just give her my best blank expression, so she gets the hint, but then she laughs. She is a bit simple. Sweet, though.

So that’s it from me. I hope you feel better now you know how I am. Hurry up home.

Big Chief. xx

Affirmations and Intentions

For the last few years, I’ve had a goal of writing a monthly blog. For the most part I’ve achieved that but there were times when I didn’t and times when it was written the day after it was due. I haven’t been perfect but when I set my intention, I told myself, I will write a monthly blog, and it will be published on the last Friday of the month. I didn’t say, I’ll do my best to write it. I didn’t say, I’ll try. I stated what I wanted as if it was already a fact, something that was not negotiable. I concentrated on believing myself and I didn’t feed any niggling doubts by voicing them or dwelling on them.

Which brings me to the point of this blog. Affirmations. Do they work? Have you tried saying any? To me, affirmations are like intentions. I will write a monthly blog is a statement of my intention as if there was no alternative, but it is also an affirmation in that it is positive reinforcement, a message to my adaptable and receptive brain that I can do it.

Our brains have the ability to change and adapt to different circumstances in our lives. This is called neuroplasticity. They can also confuse reality and imagination, which is why affirmations help. Regular repetition of affirmations coupled with the belief that they’re true, can turn those intentions into facts simply because we know our course, our direction is clear, and we’re far more likely to take action that brings about what we want. Of course, the action is the final step and without it, affirmations may help us feel better, but they won’t help us achieve our goals.

Avoiding self-sabotage is critical. Don’t dwell in doubt. Catch those negative thoughts and imagine throwing them out like weeds in a garden. Plant healthy, achievable, sturdy seeds and imagine them thriving. Believe it. Create the mental and emotional world you want to live in. Take action in line with your intentions and the affirmations you have in mind. Your world will be a much happier place.

I have a list of spiritual affirmations written a number of years ago when I needed them. I thought them up, wrote them, typed them (I’m a Word person) and printed them out. To be honest, I didn’t say them over and over, but I did process them, believe in them, and practise them. They obviously stuck in my head and in my heart because reading them now, I can say they’re still valid and the way I try to be every day.

So, affirmations are personal and how much you need to put into them is dependent on you and your circumstances. The science is there to say they help so why not give them a go? Write your list. Make your intentions clear. Repeat them and believe them as if they’re already achieved. No-one will be perfectly successful so when you’re not, just let it go. Infuse your life with positivity and watch how you grow.

Here’s my list. What’s on yours?

AFFIRMATIONS – How I want to be for the rest of my life.

I can steer the course of my life.

I am full of energy.

I am courageous.

Everything that happens is taking me one step closer to where I want to be.

My intentions are clear, and the Universe works with me to help me reach my goals.

I am brave and will realize my own great capacity.

I can and will write my story.

I will explore and discover.

Whatever happens, I can handle it.

I have a healthy assertiveness.

One step at a time is enough for me.

I reach out and invite others into my life.

I let go and I trust.

I am loving and generous and patient and non-judgemental.

I focus on my many blessings.

I know that I count and I act as if I do.

The quality of my life depends only on me.

I am drawing to me all good things.

I am powerful and I love it.

I am impeccable (honest and respectful) in my thought, word and deed.

Is manifesting thought alone?

Recently I had something occur that made me claim my manifesting skills were back online. Have you ever felt like that? Like you desired something to happen or some thing to appear in your life, and it did?

Once I regained my rationality – mind over feelings – I asked myself if it had really been mere contemplation of the matter that had brought it about or whether I had actually worked for it.

It led me to ask what I meant by manifesting skills. And what does it mean to manifest, anyway?

The relevant dictionary definitions for the use of the word manifest in this sense are:

1. To make clear or evident; show plainly. 2. To attempt to attain (something desired) by thinking or focusing intensely on it, especially as a spiritual or self-help practice.

Okay, so did I will something into being by exercising my mental powers and by the force of my belief alone? I don’t think so.

But… I had been thinking about it. I had been talking about it. I had been believing it would come. And when it appeared, I did recognise it.

So, maybe to manifest something we need to go through a process that’s part rational mind-power (self-help) and part heart-felt mysticism (spiritual practice).

It’s obvious that we need to know what we want in the first place; to be clear about it, to visualise it, talk or write about it, research it, imagine it as ours. We need to know what we’re aiming for, have a goal and an image of where we want to be. Dream big, reach for the heights, push past comfort zones, but don’t just wish for the moon and expect to land there. Pick a dream that’s possible, and actionable.

Actions make the dream grow. To start with, letting the idea germinate in a fertile heart and mind is good, but then we need to consciously feed it, prune it, shape it and take whatever steps are necessary to help it bloom. Manifesting can feel like magic, but I bet nothing is brought about without some effort.

This sounds like I’m all for the pragmatic, rational pursuit of goals. I am, but I also have faith in the inexplicable. Energy attracts energy. Positivity attracts positivity. I have an optimism that that comes from trusting in the Universe (or God, divine spirit, Atman) and my own energy. I believe my manifesting skills are a combination of both practical actions and heart-felt faith.

To manifest successfully we need to know what we want, be eager, be alert and be ready to seize opportunities as they arise. Think like an insect; focus on what you desire, use your antennae, be patient and then pounce. Go ahead; dream, act and claim your prize.

This month I’ll be doing my best to manifest a publisher for my novel. What will you be doing with your manifesting skills?

New Year Intentions

It may be a trite topic but who among us doesn’t feel at least a little inclined to start over, have another go, make a fresh list of TO DOs at the start of the new year?

Three years ago, I wrote a blog post about endings and letting things go at the close of the year. The two themes go together: endings and beginnings, closing and opening, death and renewal, pushing away and drawing in. Life is a constant zig zag and flow, a state of flux that is best left unblocked by the past and kept open for the future.

The new year is a man-made construct. In our regulated society, it’s a significant mark of the rollover of time. Historically, the start of each season was important, which makes sense since seasons affected human lives much more dramatically. But now, with our ability to move across the globe, to trade, to create warmth and cold, it is time that is most meaningful to the majority of us.

I am one of those people with a new list of TO DOs. I started it a little early because of a significant ending – the completion of draft seven of the novel I’m working on. There were so many things I was putting off until the writing was done that the list was long and haphazard. I’m glad I got started on it before the close of 2024 because now the list is manageable. I can plan and organise and satisfyingly tick things off. Even if your list is huge, I recommend leaving it somewhere obvious so you can see it and be reminded of what you would like to achieve; I don’t mean obsess, nor do I mean follow it to the exclusion of all other opportunities. But if it’s there, you can make conscious choices and it’s more likely things will get done.

Some people don’t like to plan. They’re spontaneous, perhaps reactionists. Perhaps they’re fatalists or spiritual or just really chilled and present. There’s something to be said for that; life can only be lived in the present moment, after all. If we carry too much of the past it influences the present and future. If we spend too much time projecting into the future, we miss what’s going on now.

But devoting some time to planning and organising gives us the opportunity to achieve things we want, to have purpose, to experience more of what life has to offer. Our society is time-driven and if we don’t pay attention to it, it passes unlived. If we want to maximise our enjoyment of life, a little planning can help.

Once my list is written and my visualisations are done, I am well on my way to letting life flow and much more likely to get where I want to go. Presence and spontaneity and surprise and wonder are, to me, the result of good planning and the actioning of a good new year list of TO Dos. The close of one year and the start of another is simply a good opportunity to make a fresh start. So far, listing intentions has served me well.

How about you? Are you a new year planner or a cruiser regarding the new year as just another day?

What is Ego?

What is ego? I’ve asked myself this question since 70’s band Skyhooks sang, “Ego is not a dirty word.” It seems it doesn’t have an easy explanation or a clear definition unless we accept the dictionary version which only touches the surface: a person’s sense of self-esteem or self-importance.

I’ve studied many spiritual, self-help and awareness books. I’ve listened to gurus and spoken philosophically with other learning friends. I’ve spent hours thinking, practising breathwork and being present in an attempt to be a more conscious, authentic, and connected person. During this process, I’ve tried even harder to understand what ego is, and why it might, after all, be a dirty word.

In his book, A New Earth, Eckhart Tolle thoroughly explains ego. I highly recommend reading or listening to anything this enlightened man says, but I’m going to do my best to summarise his words.

Ego is identification with form, primarily thought forms, but also physical and emotional forms.

What does that mean?

It means thinking we are our thoughts, our minds, our bodies, and our abilities. It means endowing with a sense of self, stuff we own, people we mix with, where we live. It means identifying with a type, a style, or behaviour.

Any conceptual sense of self – seeing ourselves as this or that – is ego, whether predominately positive (I am great) or negative (I am no good).

Behind every positive self-concept is the hidden fear of not being good enough. Behind every negative self-concept is the hidden desire to be better than others. Whenever we feel superior or inferior to anyone, we are being led by our egos.

The egoic mind is completely conditioned by the past. The content it identifies with is conditioned by upbringing, the environment, and our surrounding culture.

The ego lives through comparison. How we are seen by others turns into how we see ourselves, like a mirror that tells us what we are like and who we are. The ego’s sense of self-worth is in most cases bound up with the worth we have in the eyes of others.

The ego tends to equate having with being – I have, therefore I am. And the more I have, the more I am. This ego-identification with things creates our consumer society and economic structures. But things are identity enhancers and don’t last.

When forms we identify with are no longer there, the ego can collapse but quickly reemerge with a strong mental image as victim. Negativity, resentfulness, and bitterness form and as we criticise and complain, the ego gets stronger causing a feeling of superiority, which in turn creates more negativity. Our perception becomes selective and distorted causing us to see what we want to see and then misinterpret it. Life will not be helpful.

When we shift our focus from the external to the feeling of aliveness within us, we sense our essence, the formless dimension, the state of consciousness called Being that is really us. Any actions we take will be in alignment with the whole and supported by creative intelligence. There will be inner peace.

There is a deep interrelatedness between our state of consciousness and our external reality.

Realising that what we perceive, experience, think or feel, is not who we are, and understanding that the desire to stand out, be special, be in control, or have power comes from fear – the fear of being nobody, the fear of non-existence – leads us to the connection with our true, formless selves, our essence identities, and to all living things.

When we accept that it is ego – identification with culture and country and religion and roles – that separates humans and causes conflict and unhappiness, when we become aware that it is ego that limits us and prevents us from being compassionate, when we learn non reactivity and are peaceful with the present moment, we find ourselves attuned to a far greater intelligence than the cleverness of our egos.

All that is necessary to become free of the ego, is to become aware of it. Awareness is the power that is concealed within the present moment. It is called Presence. Only Presence can undo the past in us, thereby transforming our states of consciousness.

I finally understand that ego is an illusory sense of self, that it is limiting and harmful and masks a far greater dimension that is our true essence, the spirit within. Becoming aware of thoughts and emotions as they happen, accepting reality, and disidentifying with all types of forms which create negativity, allows that essence to shine and creative intelligence to win.

I, for one, now I understand ego a little better, will do my best to go beyond it and be my best and truest, most present self. I won’t pretend it will be easy, but awareness and practise will help. How about you? What’s your ego doing right now?

If you’re interested in furthering your understanding of the concept of ego and consciousness, I’d recommend:

Artwork created by Carla Simmons, Ric Holland and AI art tools.

Mindset Hack



Thinking that you GET to do things instead of thinking you HAVE to do them, is a well-being hack I picked up from scrolling through social media this week.

Having a few minutes spare, I opened Instagram to vicariously enjoy friends’ holidays. I paused as a Reese Witherspoon video appeared and being a fan of this brilliant woman, I chose to stop and listen to what she had to say. Yes, it would take the few spare minutes I had, but that’s what happens on social media, so stay with me.

She has credited Steve Guttenberg for this insight, but I’m sure neither he nor Reese are the first people to pronounce it. The advice is: instead of saying you have to do such and such, say, I get to do such and such.

It changes the mindset – the attitude you have to the task or the situation.

I get to rise at dawn so I can write more of my novel. I get to exercise each day so I can stay healthy. I get to work, go shopping, do the washing, clean my house, make a phone call, go to the physio, walk the dog… You get the picture. I’m fortunate I get to do these things.

Changing the words you use changes the way you feel. Instead of feeling weighed down by a have to, feel uplifted by a get to.

The get to generates gratefulness and positivity.

I get to write my blog once a month. I love doing it because I get to express things that interest me. But I often reach the time it should be published – like today – and feel pressured because I also have a novel to write and a life to live. We all feel pressured by the things we need to do, right?

So, when I woke this morning thinking, I have to write my blog, Reese’s video came back to me. I changed that thought to I get to write my blog, and I instantly felt a little burst of positivity. It was just enough to make me see I also have a choice as to how much time to spend on it. And here is the result. I hope that you benefit from it.