currency

I still find it hard not to wake up and feel overwhelmed. I really shouldn't read the paper in the morning. It's never good news. Another two earthquakes, one in Vanuatu, one in Chile. Fifty Japanese workers have been dubbed the modern kamikazes for trying to prevent a meltdown at one of the Japanese nuclear reactors, exposing themselves to radiation to attempt to save their nation from exposure. The Aussie dollar has plummeted, making our money worth less than yesterday, though Ash is still working just as hard over there.

And then there's the little fact of my task here. My mother's house. All that stuff. I keep finding things, thinking they might be worth something to someone, that it will be worth putting them on ebay. But when I research them, it turns out they're hardly worth selling. I had the hope of creating a little bit of money to help Mum with all that still needs to be done. And so it turns out the house is just filled with junk. How much of it do we really need? If it burned down today - how much would we really miss?

The problem is, that I am not just my mother's child, but I also have my father's genes. I am a child of opposites. My mother is the most positive, accepting, forgiving person I know. Unfortunately, my father is quite the opposite. I have experienced him as being pessimistic, passive and quite focused on money. Unfortunately, I too can be very pessimistic and passive, and easily feel ready to give up and blame the world for putting me in this position. I can feel really depressed at times, which I know he does too. I don't blame him for that. But I can't accept that he just gives up on things, on people. On me.

Yes, I get depressed and disheartened. But then my mother's genes, love and support wash over me. I get up, wipe the tears from my eyes and get on with things. It has taken me most of my life to learn not dwell on the feelings of powerlessness, loneliness and loss, but to draw strength from the joy in my life. That is a lesson I learnt from my mother. She has never stopped teaching me that.

Those of you who know my mother, knows she is amazing. She is strong and wise; the eternal coach and teacher. She cheers everyone on, all the time. She is always ready with advice, with some words of support, with a different view on things. She cannot give up on anything or anyone. There is always a way forward with her. She will never miss an opportunity to share her wisdom, to teach you.

But sometimes for me, having a mother like that can be a little exasperating. Sometimes I've just wanted her to not talk or teach, but to just give me a cuddle and let me cry. I know by now, after being told by her for 30 years that it'll all work out, that it will work out. Just give me this moment to let out my feelings, give them room, they will pass and I will get up and go do whatever needs to be done. I no longer let a moment of desperation keep me down. She has taught me that lesson already - it is well engrained into my life, and I am teaching this lessons to others now myself. You have succeeded, Mum, in raising a child that will not give up. You can rest easy, mission accomplished!

My sister and I  have been taught another important lesson by this amazing woman. That the most valuable thing in the world is not tangible, not worth any money, does not have a price. It's happiness. That's our currency. That's how we know we're rich. We feel rewarded with it. We can draw from the bank of happiness to deal with the dreadful. And we make every moment count. Mum has taught us, that a happy moment is easily made. It just takes being conscious of it, noticing it, acknowledging it. Here I am, feeling happy. Done. I did that several times this week on my terrific Tuesday. Banked those happy moments. I was in Madurodam, having an amazing time. Banked. I was on the beach, in the warm sun with no jacket, eating kroketten. Banked. I walked through the Escher exhibit in the palace, feeling inspired and amazed by the beauty of art and the building. Banked. Instead of sitting in traffic for hours, we sat on the boulevard eating pancakes and drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream, watching the sun set into the sea. Banked.

And at a moment like this morning, lying in bed feeling depressed by the misery in the world and the tedious task at hand, I went to the bank, and pulled out the lunch on the beach memory. I remembered the feeling of the first warm day of the year, the happy surprise of it. The joy on every person's face. All the beach tents were still mostly closed for business, but they were abuzz with preparations for the arrival of spring. Hammering, sawing, painting, music playing, activity, jumpers off. The scent of paint on the breeze, mixed with food and salty sea air. Anticipation, excitement. Spring is almost here!

So, here I sit. I have finished my breakfast and cup of tea. I have finished passing on my mother's great life lessons through my blog. I will get up, get dressed, bring my mother a cup of coffee at the little shop, then I will get on with chucking lots of junk away. You can't throw memories away, they stay. And if you forget one, there's a new one just waiting to happen just around the corner.

And to my beautiful little friend Cinzia, who is turning one today - I know you won't remember this day when you are 30, but it'll be stored somehow in your bank of happiness. Love you, little rabbit.