The Four Phases of a healthier type of addiction

Just like peanut butter, and tattoos, for me series-watching comes in phases.

Phase 1 = discovery ie. the day I found crunchy organic peanut butter at Woollies and ate it on toasted rye bread and almost died/had a baby/went to heaven.

Phase 2 = enjoyment of discovery ie. After discovering tattoo-ing and deciding to get one at a poignant time in my life, I floated around in a tattoo bubble, looking at it constantly, feeling wonderful, watching LA and Miami ink – engaging in everything ‘tattoo’.

Phase 3 = Once a series/peanut butter nuttella combo/tattoo experience is discovered, and enjoyed and finished. One starts to think about taking a break. Maybe not consciously, maybe consciously (in my case with peanut butter I sometimes need to throw it away to reach this point so I don’t become obese) And then consider something else, maybe start reading a good book/ running more/ move to an inadequate equivalent to peanut butter, like cheese or marmite/ dye my hair instead of getting another permanent mark on my body.

And then…

Phase 4 = withdrawal kicks in. ie. “its been almost 2 weeks since I have had peanut butter/watched a series non-stop for 24 hours…l think its time” ( tattoos may differ here in time frame, after having mine done in August last year, only now am I starting to really withdraw)

On the weekend, after about a ten day break from series-watching ( New Girls, which was fabulous) I engaged with Homeland. HOMELAND for me was one of those ‘must watch next episode now or wont sleep kind of series’ – a similar experience to Lost and Dexter.

I started watching on Saturday and finished at 12 last night. Its amazing and not the American War Hero type drama you think its going to be when you start watching.

Then, @Stellllaaaaaaaa put season one of ‘Girls’ in my Drop Box. Looks like there wont be a phase 3 this time…

But, I am winning in the peanut butter arena. I threw away my last tub about 3 weeks ago (this is very long for me) Withdrawl started kicking in last week, so I am happy to announce I have a tub in my bag ready to take home with me after work! Wonderful!



If I am totally alone here, I don’t really care, because after 28 years I actually enjoying being weird me 🙂

Happy series-wathing/peanut butter-eating/tattoo-ing!


my precious

Missing home a lot this week.

Found myself closing my eyes this morning on the train dreaming of sitting somewhere on kloof street with a coffee and a magazine, maybe a friend too.

When I start imagining signal hill-running I have to stop, otherwise I float into a world of endless dissatisfaction with ‘now’

It’s quite tough here. And its making me tough. Which is why I stay.

Toughness is relative, but to me, its constant highs and lows. But I do find, the lows last longer here.

Have realised how totally sheltered I was from the world and things not going my way.

Have grown up.

Will be forever grateful to my friend Julia Durrant for talking me through her experience in London. Her words echo every time I doubt why I moved over here.

When I come home, which will be sometime soon, like within the next 18 months, (who knows, I keep telling myself that to keep me going) I will be clearer on what type of life/home/job/ I want. and I will be able to get it. I will have the confidence to get what I want and ask for what I need. I will appreciate the mountain more, and the stillness. I already feel all these things, so am hoping the next chapter here before I come home will only bring about more growth and epiphany’s.

I will hug my sausage dog Thandi, and never let her go.

But first, I have the Temper Trap and Gypsy Kings to see live before the Olympics start at the end of July.


Endless ‘once and lifetime opportunities’ in Londontown.

I complain and bitch about you London, but its also how I feel about my family. So really, you should be flattered.


Epiphany vibes.

Recent life happenings have spurred on some great eiphany’s folks! These are the joys of change and suffering. They bring about these rays of shiny bright perspective.

My most recent one has been, that although when we part ways with some people in our lives, through death, or love, or circumstance, we dont ever really lose that person. As we never owned them in the first place. We never owned them. This. Was. Huge. For me.

I dont own anyone. Well of course I dont! Heavens above Amy. But really, the loss I feel is just a consequence of reality. All people that have had a great impact on my life, exist in my heart and in my soul.  They are never lost.

Kinda defeats that song by The Temper Trap, right?

‘Our love was lost, and now we’ve found iiiit’ – it was never lost you fool!

pic. deviantart.

NOT lost her. NOT

A blessing

One of the few sentimental belongings I kept when I left Cape Town was an excerpt from a book called ‘Eternal Echoes’ by John O’ Donoghue that my good friend Alex hand-wrote and left in my post box many, many years ago when I was going through something, unpleasant. I brought it with me when I moved to London, and while I was cleaning my room today I came across it. Its truely beautiful. I’m not going to write it all out – but I will share ‘A Blessing’.

“May you be blessed in the holy names of those who carry our pain up the mountain of transformation.

May you know tender healing and shelter when you are called to stand in the place of pain.

May the places of darkness within you be surprised by light.

May you be granted the wisdom to avoid false resistance and when suffering knocks at the door of your life  you may be able to glimpse its hidden gift.

May you be able to see the fruits of suffering. May memory bless and shelter you with the hard-earned trust of past travail, may this give you confidence and trust.

May a window of light always surprise you.

May the grace of transfiguration heal your wounds.

May you know that even though the storm might rage, not a hair  of your head will be harmed.”

Thank you my plantil. I love you.

My light, its there. Here.

Code for life

Ideally I would like to live my life by these four codes. I’m not so good at not taking things personally or at not making assumptions.  But, I do always do my best.

Be impeccable with your word – Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your word in the direction of truth and love.

Don’t take anything personally – Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.

Don’t make assumptions – Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life.

Always do your best – Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret.

Read the book: The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz



This is an excerpt from my daily reading book, I liked it.

One day, my mother and I were working together in the garden. We were transplanting some plants for the third time time. Grown from seed in a small container, the plants had been transferred to a large container; then transplanted into the garden. Now, because I was moving, we were transplanting them again.

Inexperienced as a gardener, I turned to my green-thumbed mother. “Isn’t this bad for them?” I asked, as we dug them up and shook the dirt from their roots. “Won’t it hurt these plants, being uprooted and transplanted so many times?”

“Oh, no,” my mother replied. “Transplanting doesn’t hurt them. In fact, it’s good for the ones that survive. That’s how their roots grow strong. Their roots will grow deep, and they’ll make strong plants.”

Often, I’ve felt like those small plants – uprooted and turned upside down. Sometimes, I’ve endured the change willingly, sometimes reluctantly, but usually my reaction has been a combination.

Won’t this be hard on me? I ask. Wouldn’t it be better if things remained the same? That’s when I remember my mother’s words: That’s how the roots grown deep and strong.

Simple, really.

pic found on:

it hurts and it doesn’t.

it hurts when i look back. when i remember.

it hurts when i think of crushed dreams.

it hurts when i feel you next to me, in my head.

it hurts when i look back.


it doesn’t hurt when i think of the 90% you were only able to give.

it doesn’t hurt when i run.

it doesn’t hurt when im listening to the music i love, and you never liked.

it doesn’t hurt when i think of how unenthusiastic you were.

it doesn’t hurt when i remember how anxious i was.

it doesn’t hurt when i think of what could be, without you.

but it hurts what i think of what could have been, with you.

it hurts and it doesn’t.