101 articles

I want to tell you about two things that happened to me recently. By any objective measure, neither of them is remarkable. One involved a car. The other involved chewing gum.

It stretches as far as you can see in every direction. And in it, flowers. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Each one is a different colour, a different height, a different shape. Some of them face the sun. Some of them are bent slightly from the weather they have lived through. Some are in full bloom. Some are past their peak.

As an adult we all (most) avoid family gatherings, seldom telling our parents the truth about what we have really been up to, we tend to share a filtered version of ourselves with the loved ones who have been making sacrifices for us for decades. When does the relationship evolve and how should it work?

There is a particular kind of heartbreak that does not come from loss. It comes from watching someone you love remain in a life that is slowly dimming them. You see it in the way they speak about themselves. In the exhaustion that never lifts. In the habits they defend but quietly resent.

Words & Contemplations starts her podcast journey, bringing you blogs in audio format as well as meditations, gentle practices and talks. Come along for the journey; we'd love to have you tune in.

Travel has a way of unravelling us. It stretches our boundaries and expands our horizons, but in the movement, we often lose the steady pulse of our daily rituals. After eight months on the road, I’ve realised that protecting your practice isn’t about rigid adherence to a schedule; it’s about finding the spaces that help you return to yourself—the ones that feel less like a workout and more like medicine.

I’ve always believed that self-inquiry can be a portal. Sometimes that portal is meditation. Sometimes it’s heartbreak. Sometimes it’s travel, long and lonely and bewildering. But recently, it came in the form of something unexpected:Running my astrological birth chart and my human design through ChatGPT.

There are times when self-understanding doesn’t come from doing more, fixing more, or striving harder - but from seeing yourself clearly for the first time. Recently, I explored both my astrological birth chart and Human Design, not to predict the future, but to understand myself more deeply during a period of transition. What unfolded wasn’t instruction or certainty, but recognition. This reflection explores what these systems are, why so many are drawn to them right now, and how they can offer permission to embrace the parts of ourselves we’ve often tried to override.

We all have habits that serve us, and habits that don’t. The tricky part is: sometimes the ones that don’t serve are the ones we cling to because they feel familiar, safe, known. This post will guide you through an honest audit of your habits, apply research from behavioural psychology (including key ideas from Atomic Habits by James Clear) and offer a list of very practical, gradual changes you can make — changes you control, sustainable and within reach.

We all carry stories that feel so familiar they might as well be our own voice — the subtle doubts, the quiet assumptions, the emotional reactions that rise before we even have a chance to choose differently. In the yogic tradition, these inherited imprints are known as samskāras: subliminal impressions carved into us through repetition, experience and unexamined memory.

In a world where wellness is often sold as “buy this product,” “subscribe to this service,” “follow this influencer,” it can feel like well-being is something external that you purchase. But what if true wellness was the opposite? Lived, found, built from the inside out, free and accessible. What if it wasn’t about what you buy, but what you do, what you think, what you become?

There are moments in life when you realise that what you are reacting to is not the situation in front of you, but the echo of something much older.A familiar sting.A tightening in the chest.A story your body remembers even if your mind has forgotten its origin.

Beyond fad diets and marketing trends, both science and ancient Ayurvedic wisdom tell us the same truth: real, whole food can heal. Studies now show that balanced, minimally processed diets improve longevity, brain health, and emotional stability. Ayurveda has been teaching this for millennia: food is medicine, and the way we eat is a mirror of how we live.

Food, thoughts, emotions: these are all attachments we can become addicted to, especially the ones that reinforce our worldview. We crave confirmation, whether through accolades, achievements, or approval for our choices. But that’s all they are, choices.

A reflection on wellness, wholeness, and the quiet lessons that keep arriving. Your thirties are a middle ground, old enough to know better, young enough to still test the edges. Somewhere between who you thought you’d be and who you’re becoming, life starts to whisper its truths. This is the decade when awareness deepens, priorities shift, and the surface begins to crack in the best possible way.

Sometimes, stepping away from everything you know is the only way to truly see it.We all have places we’ve outgrown, or thought we had. The home that once felt heavy, the routine that seemed suffocating, the four walls that turned into a mirror for our restlessness. But what if it wasn’t the place holding you back? What if it was what you carried inside it?

There are people in our lives who remind us to play; the ones who make you want to cartwheel on the beach, run along the sand, or balance, laughing, in a rock pool in warrior three. On my Koh Samui retreat, there was one such person: Bronte.

There are places in the world that make you feel whole, grounded, and deeply nourished, and there are places that quietly take from you, chipping away at the equilibrium you’ve worked to cultivate. It can feel as though the culture of a place seeps through your skin, shaping your energy and attitude before you’ve even noticed.

Most people go to Thailand for the temples, the history, the food, the colour and chaos. There’s something for everyone, from family adventures to the wild nightlife of Patong. But for us, at least on this visit, it became something quite different.

Sri Lanka is often painted as a tropical dream, with endless beaches, warm smiles, and jungle adventures. But beyond the postcard moments lies a raw and untamed beauty that asks you to slow down, adapt, and embrace its imperfections. This isn’t a trip that always runs to plan, and that’s where the magic begins.

Paramahansa Yogananda’s Autobiography of a Yogi is more than a spiritual memoir; it’s an invitation to see life through the lens of the soul. In his telling, the extraordinary becomes accessible, not as far-off miracles but as a way of living rooted in self-awareness, discipline, and love.

Sri Lanka’s magic isn’t found in a rush. It reveals itself slowly — in the curve of a coastal bay, the shadow of an elephant at dawn, and the mist that clings to tea hills. This route takes you from the island’s sunlit shores through its wild heartlands and into the green embrace of the hill country.

I read The Surrender Experiment just days after walking away from my corporate job, twelve months into the unknown. No guarantees, no structured plan. Just a quiet knowing that something had shifted.

Kuala Lumpur, a city that served as a stopover en route to Sri Lanka, could be the gateway to something extraordinary. A city where colonial architecture meets sleek skyscrapers, where incense drifts through ancient temples just blocks away from air-conditioned malls, and where the rhythm of a Southeast Asian metropolis pulses beneath every step.

A journey inward to awareness, stillness and freedom. Some books arrive like whispers. Others arrive as gifts. For me, The Untethered Soul was both.

In the modern wellness world, the surface often appears to be a glow: luminous skin, green smoothies, gym schedules, lymphatic drainage, and cold plunges. And while all of these can support well-being, they don’t touch the deeper layers of what it means to be well.

Home has been in flux for me lately. With travel comes the idea that I’m a nomad, that I can become comfortable wherever I lay my head. And to some extent, it’s true. I open a suitcase, light some incense, set up a playlist, and move on my yoga mat, and I feel grounded. A sense of home lives in these rituals.

Four months ago, I packed up my perfectly curated Melbourne life, placed it neatly into a 3x3 storage cage, and boarded a one-way flight. Since then, I’ve travelled through Bali, Vietnam, Cambodia, Kuala Lumpur, and Sri Lanka, with Thailand just around the corner.

There are places in the world that don’t just ask you to visit—they invite you to feel. Cambodia is one of those places. Thick with memory, gilded with devotion, and humming with life, it offers a kind of travel that moves beneath the surface. This isn’t a country for rushing through. It’s a country for pausing, listening, and letting the stories rise from the land itself.

A reflection on slowing down, shedding layers, and returning to self through travel. There’s this idea we’re sold, that travel should be a rush. To see the world is to move quickly from country to country, ticking off iconic sights and staying “on the go.” I thought that energy would sustain me.

I used to believe I was a good traveller. Curious. Kind. Conscious. But as I moved through the villages of Vietnam, past rice paddies, crumbling temples, food stalls, and families, I was forced to reckon with a quieter truth. I have always been a privileged traveller. And with that privilege comes a responsibility.

Something remarkable happened to me the other day. It won’t sound impressive to you, but I found it profoundly telling about my current mental capacity compared to where I was a few months ago. I got a song stuck in my head. I know it sounds so basic, but I do not remember the last time something as pedestrian as this happened to me. My mind is used to running about 100 mph with so many pointless things: the self-narration, the criticisms, the to-do list, the judging, the what-ifs, the wondering what was meant by something someone said. It’s all just noise. None of it matters. Not really.

There was a time when wellness travel felt like a luxury reserved for the few. A distant dream of remote retreats, all-inclusive spas, and Instagrammable jungle sanctuaries. But something has shifted. Wellness is no longer a destination; it’s a way of travelling, of seeing, of being. And now, it’s becoming more accessible, more intentional, and more beautifully human.

Once known as Saigon, this city doesn’t sleep. It pulses with ambition and creativity. Motorbikes swarm like schools of fish, cafés buzz with conversation, and remnants of French colonialism linger between steel skyscrapers.

The Mekong Delta is a tapestry of rivers, rice fields, and resilience. Life here moves to the rhythm of the water, and travellers who venture south are rewarded with a glimpse into a Vietnam both ancient and alive.

Hoi An is a soft dream. The Old Town is a perfectly preserved trading port that once connected East and West. Japanese, Chinese, French, and Vietnamese influences converge in the yellow-walled buildings and winding alleyways that glow with lantern light at dusk.

Perched high in the Truong Son Mountains, Ba Na Hills feels like a page from a storybook. First developed by the French in the early 1900s as a hill station, today it’s home to an eclectic mix of European-inspired architecture, gardens, and one of the world’s longest cable car rides.

Da Nang is a city of contrasts, a place where modern bridges arc over dragon-shaped rivers, and sleek cafés sit beside ancient temples. Once a French colonial port, now a booming coastal hub, Da Nang offers both energy and ease for the slow traveler.

Tucked between the Bach Ma mountains and Lang Co Bay, Lap An Lagoon is a lesser-known marvel of central Vietnam. The brackish water reflects the sky like a mirror, especially at low tide when a narrow sand path emerges across the lagoon.

Hue was once the imperial capital of Vietnam and the heart of the Nguyen Dynasty (1802–1945). It’s a city built on poetry, perfumed rivers, and stories of royalty and resistance. The Perfume River, named for the blossoms that once fell into it from orchards upstream, cuts through the city’s soul.

Located within Marble Mountain near Da Nang, Am Phu Cave, translated to "Cave of Hell" is a symbolic journey through the realms of Buddhist belief. It offers a deep dive into Vietnamese spirituality, portraying both Heaven and Hell with vivid, eerie sculptures.

Ninh Binh is a quieter soul in northern Vietnam — a patchwork of rice fields, rivers, and limestone cliffs that echo the shape of Ha Long Bay, but on land. Known as the ancient capital of Hoa Lu, this region has an energy that invites slow travel and quiet awe.

Ha Long Bay, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is a place of mystic beauty and stillness. Over 1,600 limestone islands rise from the emerald waters like scattered pearls from a dragon's breath. Legend says a celestial dragon and her children descended to protect Vietnam, breathing jade and jewels into the sea to create this bay—a story still whispered by locals.

There’s a certain beauty in packing not just clothes or chargers, but your rituals. A yoga mat, a journal, snacks that feel good, shoes that let you walk for miles — these are tools that shift travel from hectic to healing.

Wellness doesn’t begin and end in your home or at the studio or gym you belong to. It can be a mindset you can carry, a ritual you can roll out wherever you land. From morning breathwork on a balcony to journaling beside a window in a new city, the rituals that sustain you can become part of the way you travel, work, and live.

With grand plans of spending three months in Vietnam, we secured a 90-day visa, packed our lives into suitcases, and left the bliss of Bali for the cultural mosaic of Vietnam.

Or, what happened when I threw out the itinerary and finally listened to that quiet inner voice. This isn’t an anti-blog. It’s not a rebellion against to-do lists, or a rejection of all the amazing things Bali has to offer. It’s simply an invitation to do things your own way.

We’ve been in Vietnam for 12 days, and I’d be lying if I said it’s been plain sailing. After the peace we found in Bali, this rhythm of packing up and moving every 4–5 days feels tedious. There was something grounding about our daily yoga practice there, something magical in the stillness that gave our time structure and soul. Now, without that anchor, we find ourselves drifting, disoriented and restless.

Hanoi is loud, fast and beautiful, but it can also be chaotic, overwhelming and, at times, a little stressful. There’s a price we travellers pay for seeking out the kind of energy that feels different from home. The rewards are rich, but they don’t come easily.

We’ve spent 12 days here in Vietnam so far, and it’s an exciting, stimulating place, full of contrast, colour, and sensory overload (especially as a vegan). Here's how we’d break it down into a 7-day itinerary for anyone wanting a curated yet immersive experience.

I wrote this piece back in April 2022, and it feels poetic that it still holds relevance now, three years later, in April 2025. I’ve left most of it unchanged. It speaks to something tender about the way time carries us—sometimes with a gust, other times with the softest nudge from one place to the next.

Why Slow Travel in Bali Changed Everything. After the privilege of visiting Bali five times, I’ve realised we no longer need to chase the tourist trail. We’ve already ticked off the temples, the beaches, the day trips. So this time, we chose to stay still. We let Bali show us something else entirely: a slower rhythm, a different kind of magic.

Today, as we stepped out of the beautiful, sun-warmed space that is Alchemy in Ubud for the final time, we were handed a goodbye gift. Completely unexpected. Entirely unnecessary.

Without any expectations, write the answers to these questions. Write freely and as if you are talking to yourself, someone safe and silent. See what comes up with out judgment, but curiosity see where these questions take you.

Ubud isn’t just a destination; it’s an experience—a place where time slows, where nature and culture intertwine, and where every moment invites you to be fully present. Known as Bali’s cultural and spiritual heart, Ubud offers an escape from the rush of modern life, drawing you into a rhythm that feels intentional, unhurried, and deeply connected.

I have been in Ubud for three weeks now, and thanks to an extended visa, we get to stay for another 30 days. It might seem unusual to settle in one place during a gap year, but in many ways, it feels like we’ve moved here—at least temporarily—to rest and recalibrate. This gap year is not just a break from work but a departure from the world I used to inhabit. The transitions between countries won’t be rushed; moving every week would be unsustainable. Instead, we are easing into a rhythm, embracing a slower, more intentional way of being.

Ubud is more than just a destination; it’s an experience—a gentle yet profound unfolding of self through nature, movement, and food. A place where the scent of incense lingers in the air, where the rhythmic chants of a nearby temple echo at dawn, and where each meal can feel like a ritual of nourishment. Among Ubud’s lush landscapes and vibrant wellness scene, plant-based cuisine flourishes. Whether you seek raw vitality, indulgent comfort, or a sacred culinary experience, these five vegan eateries offer more than just food—they connect to something more profound.

There’s something undeniably magnetic about Canggu. What was once a sleepy coastal village flanked by rice fields and quiet beaches has, in recent years, transformed into one of Bali’s most sought-after destinations. It’s a place where modernity and tradition dance in a delicate rhythm—where surfboards lean against temple walls, and coconut trees shade MacBook screens in bustling cafes. The energy here is palpable, a blend of creative ambition and deep, unhurried presence. It’s no wonder that expats, digital nomads, and wellness seekers have flocked here in droves, drawn to its effortless blend of work, play, and self-exploration.

Yesterday, I attended a Balinese purification and blessing ceremony with Tri Desna in Ubud. While the full impact of letting go may take days, even weeks, today, I feel lighter. Rested. Unburdened. Even in the midst of a gap year—a time meant for freedom and exploration—I had unknowingly packed emotional baggage alongside my travel essentials. We all do.

Bali has a way of calling to the soul, whispering through the rustling palms and the rhythmic crash of waves. It has become one of the most recognised destinations for yoga in the world, drawing seekers from all walks of life to its lush landscapes, sacred temples, and serene retreats. But what is it about this Indonesian island that makes it such a magnet for yogis? The answer lies in a powerful combination of culture, spirituality, and natural beauty.

The first week of stepping away from a structured career into the unknown is filled with reflection. This gap year isn’t just a vacation—it’s the beginning of a deliberate shift toward living more fully, exploring new ways of being, and embracing the freedom that comes with uncertainty. It’s about letting go of the rigid structures that have defined my identity for years and stepping into a life designed around passion, purpose, and presence.

Vestrahorn, one of Iceland’s most iconic and photogenic peaks, is a must-see for any nature lover or adventure seeker. Known for its dramatic black sand dunes, towering mountains, and ever-changing weather, this breathtaking landscape offers a unique opportunity for exploration and photography. Here are some essential travel tips to make the most of your visit:

Solheimajokull is one of Iceland’s most accessible and visually stunning glaciers, making it a must-see for anyone visiting the South Coast. With its ice formations, deep crevasses, and proximity to iconic attractions like Skogafoss and Reynisfjara, Solheimajokull offers a unique opportunity to experience Iceland’s raw natural beauty up close. Here’s everything you need to know to make the most of your visit.

Gjain is one of Iceland’s most enchanting hidden gems, a serene oasis tucked away in the Þjórsárdalur Valley. Known for its lush greenery, cascading waterfalls, volcanic formations, and tranquil ponds, it feels like stepping into a secret paradise. Here’s everything you need to know to make the most of your visit to this beautiful, lesser-known location.

Travel is so much more than the destinations we reach—it’s about the emotions that arise, the connections we foster, and the way these experiences stay with us long after we’ve unpacked. When I think back on my most cherished journeys, I realise what makes a place truly unforgettable isn’t just the beauty of the landscapes or the moments captured on camera. It’s the deeper, more intangible essence—the way these places touch our hearts and awaken something within us.

Iceland is a destination that promises awe-inspiring landscapes, from cascading waterfalls to volcanic craters, glaciers, and geothermal wonders. This 10-day Iceland Ring Road itinerary in early winter is perfect for those seeking a winter adventure filled with breathtaking views, hidden gems, and unique experiences.

An adult gap year is a chance to step away from your day-to-day life and embrace everything you wished you'd done before university or entering the workforce—except now, you have the benefit of experience, wisdom, and (hopefully) some savings on your side.

Glacier Lagoon (Jökulsárlón) is one of Iceland’s most mesmerising natural wonders, where ice, water, and towering mountains come together in a breathtaking display of nature’s raw beauty. Whether you’re visiting for photography, adventure, or quiet contemplation, this guide will help you make the most of your journey.

Three years ago, when our blogs were hosted someplace else, I wrote: Finding The Right Vocabulary To Make Your New Years Resolutions Attainable. It was a time when we were all in different places; many of us had no freedom, very little in the world of choices, and we were all a little gloomy. This year, ending 2024, feels hopeful, empowered and freer.

An early winter visit to Iceland was the catalyst for many things, one of which is itching to see more incredible things around the world beyond the cities and sites that populate our Instagram feeds. Iceland is like venturing to another planet; it is secluded, quiet, raw, and breathtaking. As I return to Australia from Iceland, I have changed everything, and as I fall into the distraction of my next trip, I wanted to share my top 10 sights.

When planning our adventure in Iceland, I wish someone had just given me a list of places to stay— even if it wasn’t the exact hotels but the location of their evening stops as a point to focus o. Soo here it i:, all the hotels we stayed i, and some general thoughts on them.

The truth about my last London visit is. It was a lot. London is the city which I visit the most frequently. London is a place that used to feel busy and full of good tourists; this time, I have to admit it felt stressful, overpopulated and chaotic for me. I still love the place but must adjust my expectations for my next visit. On my next trip, I would allow more days or reduce the number of things I wanted to do. When you cannot slow down the location, you must slow down how you experience it.

Mudras are how we position our hands when meditating. Each Mudra can seal the energy in the body, and when meditation, we want to seal that energy in as it's positive and restful.

It’s all about finding the right book at the right time. I have said it before, but it is taking on a life of its own; every time I get to the end of a book, I am a little more open, a little further along my path and a little deeper into my journey. These recommended books combine philosophy, ancient wisdom, spirituality, meditation, health and well-being. It’s an incredible reading list and I wanted to share it with you.

I’ve reached the halfway point in my Meditation & Mindfulness Teacher Training and it’s been profoundly eye-opening. I have been meditating consistently for 24 days, although in a lifetime, it's not even a millisecond, the impact has been vast.

When the rain drops from the sky it transforms the ground beneath it, if only for a moment, this temporary change is part of the cyclical nature of our world.

Simple, soulful ways to feel more grounded — right where you are. Living well doesn’t have to be expensive. In fact, some of the most powerful lifestyle changes cost nothing at all — just attention, intention, and a willingness to show up for yourself.

Self-love is when you put yourself first, it might be for a moment or once a week or maybe it's whenever you need to self-soothe. It’s finding things that are just for you. Moments that make you happy that you can pull on and continue to cultivate over and over again.

Learning to be still can be hard and like with other self-care practices it can take time. The Meditation we seem to be exposed to is either moments of quiet or long stretches of meditative peace, monk style. As a practising mediator, I believe that there is a special place in between. Beyond the 3-7 min Savasana that we get in the closing of a yoga class and long before we are sitting on a mountain in Tibet for several hours. The body can learn to pause and the mind will follow.

Think about a place that is raw and dirty, rich in culture, tradition and family values, vegan-friendly and still on the list of affordable destinations. From Australia, it's Bali and if you want a slice of spirituality and yoga then it's Ubud. In January of this year, I attended a Yoga Teacher Training in Ubud and although the immersion was intoxicating and delicious in every way the place, the country and the people were amazing ingredients impossible to ignore. There is something special about Ubud and I want to try to capture it here.

The overarching message that I got from this book was that you can unleash the power in the quiet and learn to be more of yourself in the not-so-quiet. Social and other so-called extroverted activities are learnable skills that can be scaled gradually so all introverts can enjoy both the solace and the social, in a setting and environment that nurtures them. It’s ok to be the person looking for the most interesting conversation in the room,

I’ve been living a plant-based life for nearly a decade now. It began as a quiet shift — one rooted in curiosity and a desire to feel better in my body. Over time, it has become something deeper: a practice in listening, a commitment to alignment, and an ever-evolving journey toward health — both mine and the planet’s.

You watch day by day thinking that these things you witness are normal, and then all of a sudden out of nowhere, you see something in a new light and for the first time ever you realise that the conflict in your work life and the person you are can no longer coexist in the way that they have done for years.

A time away from home is a precious thing, a time to reflect, recalibrate and live a little slower, maybe even in a more considered way. Living in a city such as Melbourne with the remnants of the last few years still so raw for many the idea of visiting a place so unique and protected from external influences as Daylesford is a treasured opportunity.

Starting the morning of right is something we all know to be beneficial, whether it's the right attitude or the right breakfast, I like to think both can be found in an Acai & Blueberry smoothie.

Live in Melbourne? Love Design? Need a break from city living? I think Ross Farm might be the place for your next getaway.

Overnight Oats for the lazy girl, the one who wants to be healthy without all the organising and mess in the kitchen. A simple four part recipe that everyone can manage at home, even without any time.

I was recently reminded of some advice I heard many times as a child, but on this recent occasion, it was used as an example of bad advice. ‘Pick one thing.’ I wonder how many times this phrase, suggesting that we select one area of interest and commit to it is used. This, when used with children, in theory, gets us to mastery of a skill as we reach adulthood.

Living a wholesome life with good stable mental health is what we all dream of, isn’t it? Why is it that when you google wellness or well-being you are met with long-form complicated articles, fluffy images with soft pink colours or centres for massage and facial treatments? It’s no wonder we all seem so confused.

Today marks an accidental 6-month dry period. I say accidental as this time it wasn’t off the back of anything in particular. It just happened. Like many others I have done dry July and even been dry for 18 months once before. (Sounds silly now) This time feels different, it's motivated by a choice of putting myself first.

Away with friends this year instead of the time old classic of going for drinks and dinner, watching the fireworks or any other habitual example you can think of. It’s not that I am above all of it this year, it’s just that I’m not sure what I would be celebrating, another year - with restrictive freedoms still likely being something we coexist with, it’s different somehow.

Have you ever met someone that is you when you are at your worst? Their fire is like your fire, only when you see it on another it looks kind of sideways, uncomfortable and a little ugly. You fight it pretending that you are nothing like this person, but once you have seen it, it’s impossible to unsee it.

Have you ever thought about the patterns that we live amongst, the nature that surrounds us and the peace that can be found in the symmetry, the design and the truthfulness of it all?

A Gentle (and Honest) Look at Going Plant-Based - In celebration of World Vegan Day Shifting to a plant-based or vegan lifestyle can be one of the most powerful choices you make — not just for the planet but for your personal wellness too. It’s a journey of learning, unlearning, and tuning in to how your body, mind, and values align.

It was Einstein that said, “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, but expecting different results.” I think we all tend to do this in some capacity. We wait for a change to happen, hoping someone or something will rescue us. We can seem powerless to take responsibility.

Have you ever really thought about how you determine your value, how much are you worth and if your worth is measured and paid for in currency, should it be? As a culture, we seem to be focused on how much money people have. But there has to be other ways to look at how you internally measure yourself.

If you could pick your companion based on a crystal ball that determined your combined future together with another, would you? This crystal ball would be able to account for all your combined credentials. Would this insight take all the fun out of finding love or would you choose it for the idea of certainty?

In a time such as now, it has been impossible to plan anything and those of us who used to travel the world collecting memories from all the places we visited are a little stuck. What is there to look forward to? What can we do to find this value in our everyday lives?

When someone says they love what they do for a living, what does that really mean? Is it that they have truly fulfilled their desires or have they simply met the expectation that they set for themselves? Expectation is a belief, a perceived, and at times a hopeful outcome. What if we lowered our expectations?

As Melbourne - the city in which I live goes into its fifth lockdown it forces us to once again take stock of our surroundings. If time is the only positive side effect of these lockdowns. What do you want to do with yours? Could time be a gift, an opportunity or is it simply a waste?

The Why behind my Blog. Imagine longing to write every single day. That’s me, and the easiest thing for me to write about are my feelings, experiences and ideas. I do it to figure things out, to dissect an issue and find a solution or a lesson. Now I want to share to invoke conversations and new perspectives.