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A fractured life lesson

Photo courtesy CJF photography.

Photo courtesy CJF photography.

I’m back!

Yes, here it is folks, what I know you have all been waiting for – a new blog post from Not for Blokes *.

I’m sorry I have been away so long, it was not by choice.

You see I broke my wrist and hand and could not type. Or do anything much at all.

There I was, the most at peace and relaxed I have been in, like, ever. Fresh from a three-day yoga retreat in the Byron Bay hinterland.

Or, as our friendly red-neck taxi driver described it, “a camp held in a tin shed on a swamp; in the drug-pushing, dole-bludging capital of Australia”.

Yet after a diet of vegan food, combined with early nights and even earlier mornings, plus a multitude of asanas, I was in a very happy and chilled out place.

Chilled out at the retreat / spa treatment.

Chilled out at the retreat / spa treatment.

So it was in this happy frame of mind that I set about enjoying a unique day of mother-son bonding with ZT.

My eldest baby was busy holidaying in the Gold Coast with her besties (as you do as a very lucky 13-year-old) and ZT and I relished the opportunity for some quality one:one not enjoyed since his kindergarten days.

We went for a coffee at my favourite local ‘Where they always know your name, and they’re always glad you came’. (Actually one of the barista’s has been occasionally known to  belt out a rendition of the song below in my honour).

We went for a bike ride, enjoying the coastal trail near where we live.

Then as the afternoon sun continued to shine, I happily agreed to ZT’s suggestion to go skateboarding with him.


No, I have never been skateboarding before, not even as a child.

No, I did not wear any protection such as a helmet or wrist/knee guards.

And No, I did not listen to the voice in my head that kept asking “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this. Really, really sure?”

The first half an hour was great. Then I got cocky, especially when told “You are doing better than Dad!”

What’s that? An opporutnity to finally be better at something physical than Mr Natural Sportsman? Surely not.

It is true that pride cometh before a fall. No sooner had I thought this, then the next thing I found myself  going way too fast, which inevitably lead to me falling A over T.

Cue canned TV studio laughter at our heroine’s ungainly antics.

Much pain, and hours at the local emergency room later, the diagnosis of fractured radius was confirmed.

At first I was bemused with the plaster on my arm. I may have a chronic disease, but I have never broken any bones before.

Plaster plus yoga t-shirt. Winning combo.

Plaster plus yoga t-shirt. Winning combo.

Bemusement quickly turned into grimacing through the pain, which was then replaced with anger. Ultimately over the ensuing six weeks  I predominantly felt useless.

Even though I recognised how ridiculous the sentiment was, I felt as if I wasn’t really living, wasn’t really contributing in any meaningful way to anything or anyone.

I tried to tell myself how short-lived this would be, and to remember what I was going through was so much less than what others near and dear to me are presently grappling with.

“Living in the moment” was my aim. Sometimes, I even managed to. I had no choice really as it was so hard to go anywhere and do things.

Throughout it all I kept asking “Why”? Why did this happen? What was the universe trying to tell me?

The Husband’s response: “Nothing. You just went too fast and fell of a skateboard”.

A friend suggested my inner voice was trying to teach me a lesson – next time, listen to said inner voice in the first place.

My sister’s take was that sometimes life sucks, and we need to learn to accept that and then just get on with it.

I suspect the answer to be a combination of all three.

Cheers, it’s good to be back,


* I am testing out a new themed look for the blog – please let me know if you like it or not?


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