My lovely friend Karen Willis from Sharing Bali and Beyond (I met her when I did a writer’s retreat in Bali a couple of years ago) issued her end-of-year newsletter (you should subscribe because it’s gorgeous and full of inspiration about travel and health and wellness) and something she said struck me.
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This is the 6th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice! Dying. Dead. Buried. Everything about him that I respected, admired, enjoyed. Gone. Killed by a single gesture that extinguished all others that preceded it. The way he
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This is the 5th essay in the #26essays2017 challenge that I’ve set for myself this year. I’m doing this because I’m the first to admit I’ve become a lazy writer: allowing guest posts and series and cross-posting to make up the bulk of content on The Diane Lee Project across 2016. The brave, fearless writing that readers admired and respected me for has all but disappeared. This year—2017—will be different. I’m reclaiming my voice—my write like a motherfucker voice! Four weeks. Give or take a day or two. That’s how long it took. Takes. For my crush to run its course. But my crush didn’t just
Continue reading...This post was first published on 10 May 2012. I’m not an active user of Twitter these days. Not like I was a couple of years ago. I just pop in to see what’s going on, then pop out. The other day, someone I knew said I wasn’t important. He didn’t say it to me directly. He said it to the Twitterverse, but I knew he was talking about me. It saddened me greatly, because this was a person I counted as a friend. He had helped me, and I had helped him. We laughed about life and discussed love,
Continue reading...“Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.” – Mark Twain I have been doing a quite a but of soul searching of late. I’ve been thinking about who I have in my life, and why and how, and I’m starting to scale back. And a lot of this scaling back is based on the Mark Twain’s quote. I’m thinking about whom I’ve made a priority, and whether that person has reciprocated, and made me theirs. It’s about making decisions around, for example, how inclusive a person is in involving me in his or
Continue reading...Lately, I have been thinking about (or is that reviewing?) the nature of friendship, and how we make (and keep or let go) friends is very much linked and related to the friendships we cultivated as children. When I was a kid, we moved around a bit: Adelaide to Millicent to Mt Gambier as my mother’s marriages went pear-shaped. I started primary school in Millicent: went first to a public school, then a private. Then in around Grade 5 or 6, we moved to Mt Gambier, and another private school. My high school (which I didn’t move from) was in
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