Author: Amanda Viviers

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my candle

A candle loses nothing from lighting another

Just last week as I wandered slowly through Aldi, trying to get my head around its new offerings, I found a mango candle. This orange, square promise of calm and deep breaths called out my name as it jumped off the shelves into my little shopping cart.

As I placed this $3.99 luxury into my overfull trolley, I found these negative thoughts rising…

“You don’t need another candle”

“It is a waste of money”

“Remember you are saving for your upcoming trip, that you purchased when you really couldn’t afford it.”

“Fathers Day, Birthdays, Christmas they are all looming”.

I listened to the counsel and I put it back on the shelf. I walked on, then as I turned the aisle, I went back, grabbed that candle and placed it carefully back into my shopping pile.

As a Mum, I spend most of my days saving and sacrificing for those around me and sometimes even just the thought of something to call my own is all most too much to bear. That little moment in Aldi wasn’t about the candle. The candle signified something much bigger, it told me about the state of my thought life and how I needed to take back the time to look after myself in the midst of all my flurry for others.

One of the greatest challenges I have encountered in this season is finding ways, simple easy opportunities to look after myself, as much as I do everyone else.

As I look after myself and care for the deep needs of my own person, I am so much more equipped in times when I am challenged to think sacrificially about others. I am able to light other people’s candles when my own flame is flickering.

How easy though is it to say no to the candle?

How easy is it to allow the negative thoughts, the less generous ones to take control rather than the life-giving ones?

All week, I have been lighting my mango candle and every time I walk past it, I am reminded of the simple power of taking the time to breathe and flicker slowly.

I absolutely believe that when we share our light with other candles (Mums, Family members, partners, neighbors and more) that we don’t lose. The problem is it is difficult to light another candle when we don’t even take the time to put it in our trolley.

When we sacrifice so much for others, we need to find space and time to refresh and recover the very essence of our basic needs.

When was the last time you smiled?

When was the last time you breathed so deeply, that it replenished your soul?

When was the last time you bought something, even small like a $3.99 candle to remind you of your beauty?

My dear internet friends, taking the time to create space and look after ourselves, is not selfish, it is not lazy, it is central to our very being.

We cannot give from a place, that has not been nourished in our own lives. We cannot live broadly if we have not taken the time to live deeply. We cannot step into places and share the wisdom that has not been fostered in our own quiet places.

Buy the damn candle.

Light it today.

And breath a little deeper.

Amanda

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The desire to be wild and free yet civilised and secure.

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As a mum of two pretty wild littles, I am often overwhelmed with the task at hand. My two-year-old is the one who goes over to the iPod and plays DJ at her ballet class. Then this morning after class we went to the local cafe and her tutu screamed as she lay on the floor demanding ice cream and attention from all.

The life of a Mum is one that is called to servanthood. It is a life of humility, making hard calls and often it is one of sheer embarrassment. I walk this very fine line of wanting my children to be wild and free, yet civilised and secure.

My husband works every day with youth at risk. He says to me often, the main reason why these boys are off the rails is because they have grown up with no discipline and boundaries. Boundaries make kids feel safe and children who have grown with strong boundaries and fierce rules grow into teenagers who know how to deal with the ebbs and tides of emotions, that adolescence brings with it.

The problem is, I want my kids to find their voice, I want them to learn to say no, I want them to be able to stand up for themselves, but at the same time have respect, be kind and stand up for the underdog.

As a Mum, I wrestle these same extremes in one morning of motherhood. The life of a Mother is a life of servanthood. We always have something to do. I don’t often sit and think, what shall I do today. I sit to rest after world war three has erupted in my loungeroom and I am like, what shall I do first; The washing, the vacuuming, make lunch, lunch is finished, the dishes, scrub the floor, now dinner…The list is endless.

Then I know how much I need to look after myself and how self-care is imperative in the life of a Mum.

How do I prioritise self-care, so I don’t scream my face off at those around me, whilst living a life of vegemite covered clothes?

How do I satisfy those desires of freedom and the wildness that grows deep within my uniqueness, yet not act in a way that offends and draws attention to myself?

I want to express my truth, the parts of myself that not many get to see, but at the same time be kind in the way I walk my days. Not only do I want that for myself, I so desperately want it for my children.

Finding ways to bring boundaries and discipline into my every day, but having the wisdom to know when they need to be thrown into the wind and dance freely as they whisk away.

I think routine, accountability and boundaries are important for both adults and children alike. If we spend our days with no rules, with unlimited choices and with no tasks at hand, we become extremely unproductive and unsatisfied.

The opposite is also necessary as well. We need days where it doesn’t matter if the dishes are piled by the sink, we need to walk away from the lists, the demands, the emails and the opinions of those around us and surrender to the call of the wild.

There is this part in every single one of us, that needs attention and care. It is a fragile voice that is asking for expression, there is a part of us that needs time to develop and arrive. When was the last time that you stood and faced the sea and screamed your heart out not worried whether anyone was watching? When was the last time you did something for the first time and your stomach landed in your throat? When was the last time you stayed in your PJs all day and ignored every single task?

Find your wild.

Find your routine.

Allow both of them to form your security and stretch.

We all have a part of us that desires freedom and release.

We are all calmed by boundaries, rules and opportunities to find peace in the path.

We are all called to live a life that serves another.

We are all designed to self-nurture, re-energise and find a place of peace within.

The question is never what part belongs in my life today.

The question is what part of me has not found its place recently?

Do you spend so much time looking after others that you are unable to look after yourself?

Do you spend so much time caring for yourself that you are unable to look out for another?

Wild.

Free.

Secure.

Civilised.

They all can coexist.

They are often in competition with one another.

Sometimes little tweaks can make all the difference.

What is a little tweak you have made lately to help these two competing parts of us be friends?

Amanda

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I love humans

I love humans

Yesterday was a bizarre old day with many a challenge. The greatest one being we seemed to loose a poo. Yes, you read that right. Maybe four and a half years of having two little cling on’s roaming around everywhere with me has casued this, but my blog has now sunk to new levels.

The case of the missing package began when I was having my five mins with Kym. She is one of my coping strategies as a Mum and most days we have a five-minute phone conversation. Yesterday I needed my five minutes. I wanted to talk about something other than aeroplanes, nappies, trains and shopkins. And especially I did not want to talk about the potty, the toilet, wiping your bum or flushing the toilet, singing a song that included washing our hands and be on our way.

I snuck away into my bedroom for five minutes of peace and as I popped my head around the corner, I saw that there were remnants of the former present, left as a clue that a game of poo and seek would now be required. I quickly said goodbye to my friend after only three minutes with Kym and ran quickly to check my new lounge room rug and breathed a sigh of relief.

My rug had survived another near tragedy and I began to search. I looked in every corner, in every toy box, I searched under the rug and offered bribes to both Miss nearly two and Mr four and a half. The case of the missing present lasted for three hours. Three long hours of searching every single corner in my house, with the case remaining left unsolved.

It wasn’t til late last night as I shook my head in confusion that it dawned on me what might have happened to the unwanted load. Maybe she took it off to its rightful place in the bathroom and flushed away its existence.

No.

Couldn’t be.

Could it.

I have been teaching her this for the last three months.

Did she actually “gasp” do what I had shown her?

As I laid there in absolute shock, I quickly thought about this little scenario. How often do I believe the very worst, than the best possible explanation for one’s behaviour?

In life, I think we might be saved a whole heap of worry, fear, searching and procrastination if we just believed the best, rather than the worst. We live in a world that is unravelling at its seams and every single day we are bombarded with problems and justified arguments, sad stories and divorce.

What if we just believed the best case scenario and worked the rest out later? With our children, with our husbands, in our workplaces and schools.

I love what Audrey Hepburn says;

I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.
Audrey Hepburn

I am starting to realise there is so much more that I believe in, than what I hate. But so often I am inclined in this season to swing straight to the tragedy, than believing the very best.

I love humans and I want to be known for loving them right down to their very ordinary moments. I want my kids to know that they are loved, that they are accepted right now, even when they do the craziest stuff.

Why didn’t I believe that my daughter would do something as simple as the things I had already taught her too?

Why do I often go straight to worse case scenario and spend my whole afternoon looking for something when the answer had been just so simple.

I am learning a lesson from the case of the missing poo…Maybe I should believe that the very little, seemingly ordinary and repetitive moments with my little humans is actually sinking in.

Maybe, unless I find her little package somewhere like at the back of the pantry.

But for now, I am on a mission to believe the best, rather than exploding into the worst case scenarios. Every single time.

Hilairous.

And so very sobering.

Happy Tuesday my friend,

Tuesdays are for dancing

Amanda

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Aunties rule the world

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There is something pretty special about an Aunty and their little followers.

My sister went away just last week for a few days and my little people felt the impact. It is like she walks in a room and everything fades away. With their beautiful nicknames that only a niece or nephew can get away with, the aurora of an Aunty is a super power in our today.

Whether the Aunty is by birth, choice or need, the fabric of our society is weaved by their hands. It’s the conversations they have, that we just can’t seem to say right. It is the respect they earn by just being one step removed. It is the power of their opinion, even when the parental theme is the same.

If you are an Aunty, your super power is potent. You have sway, you have permission and you are so desperately needed.

They say it takes a village to raise a child, I hope those villages are layered with Aunties, Uncles, Friends, Grandparents, Ouma’s, Oupa’s, Nans and Poppy’s.

I have been an Aunty to many a little person and big ones too, even when they were not birthed from my immediate family. To sit and listen to a teenager whose questions are so deep that they are layered with doubt. To walk alongside a family whose heart is aching from divorce. To step up to the plate when a Dad refuses to prioritise his responsibility. The Uncles, The Aunts and those who are one step removed make the greatest difference.

Tonight at family night one of those littles who calls me Aunty, (not by birth) said this. “Aunt Manda, you know that drink you were talking about? (Tumeric Night Milk) Do you think that it would heal my arm?” The story is this, the Mumma’s were all talking about Tumeric over dinner and quietly while I was washing the dishes a little later, he leant in to tell me his story.

I replied, “Not sure mate, what happened?”

He replied, “Someone hit me really hard and my arm hurts so much and I was wondering if it would help.”

My heart melted. He was listening to our conversation, but actually, he just wanted someone to listen to him. He isn’t a small child, he is a teenager. A little man coming out of his awkward child phase. And he needed an Aunty to tell his story and ask whether he was going to be okay.

The flip side of this story is this…

Today I really wanted to quit, resign and give up the Mum card. I had had enough. From toilet training, to leaves from my precious fiddle leaf fig being ripped off. Screaming, sand throwing, a lost shoe, refusal to eat food, food crushed into my new rug, the list goes on and on. I needed an Aunty today.

Someone to come alongside and tell me it is going to be okay.

We all need someone. We all need to know that the unspoken worry in our heart, the hurt leaning into our chest, that problem at work…

We need an Aunty no matter how old we are. We need to know it is going to be okay and tomorrow is another day.

Are you an Aunty to someone?

Could you say yes to being an Aunty and mentoring someone just a little younger than you?

Do you have the time, to stop and listen, even whilst doing the dishes?

This is the fabric that our hurting world needs.

Aunties, Uncles, Friends and Humans who just take the time to say are you okay?

And even when it is not to make a cup of hot chocolate and listen.

Speak again tomorrow

Amanda

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morality. that is the question.

story keeper

I believe there are two types of people in the world and I have found the two definitions of the word “moral” can quite succinctly define them.

  1. Standards of behaviour, principles of right or wrong.
  2. A lesson that can be derived from every story or experience.

We have the rule keepers and those who look for the why of the rule; the story seekers.

The rule keeper, guardian, and officer for the wellbeing of the world.

The beckoning cloud of shame becomes a favourite tactic of the rule keeper. When they raise their eyebrows and tut their tongue they reinforce the absoluteness of the morality they have been endorsed to preach. The rule keeper, guardian, and officer for the wellbeing of the world, can often be found poised at the end of their keyboard awaiting an online misdemeanour, where their warrior keyboard ways, must inflict their judgement and infringement notice. The problem with the rule keeper, guardian, and officer for the wellbeing of the world is when the black and white judgements they have so fiercely preached, hit a little close to home when someone close by, breaks their heavily controlled borders. When our friend the rule keeper is brought into the place of chaos and change, their hearts and lives become entwined in the reality of their moment and the distinct lines they have drawn.

Then we have the story seeker.

The story seeker, walks carefully upon the earth, knowing the fragileness of its inhabitants and surroundings. They may have been once the rule keeper, but they realised that mess and tragedy befall us all and often there are no rules or boundaries that can fix the state of their today. The story seeker looks for the proverb that is hidden under the soil of a tree, they seek the wisdom found in the folds of their elderly neighbour’s cheeks. They seek the lines of the tracks of those gone before and seek out the direction they have travelled rather than the boundaries of the steps. The story keeper walks softly with compassion and is ever able to step into another’s shoes. They seek the insight of another’s point of view and take the time to unpack the complexity of every human’s plight. They know that lessons are available in every single life and not one life is ever a lost case. That we are all a part of the writhing mess of humanity, seeking purpose and direction.

Morality is a word that is often wielded as a mark of maturity or significance.

I, myself am drawn to the story seeker.

I believe that every single life is full of love and lesson.

I believe that every human has the right to choose their path without being beaten into conformity.

I believe in beauty in the ocean, a poem that speaks in a sunset and the cradle of a mother’s arms that invites humanity to a dance of trust.

I believe in you.

Your ideas.

Your strength.

Your purpose.

Your delight.

I choose number two.

Drawing grace from the chaos.

Speak again soon,

Amanda