Rural women's day - Wangaratta

[ I spoke these words in front of a room full of women for rural womens day in Wangaratta.

Public speaking is not my profession. As I sat in my seat waiting for my name to be announced to take the stage, my heart was in my throat and my mind was screaming RUN!!! My entire physical and emotional body wanted out “why did I say yes to this!!?” But as Cass McCormack welcomed me to the stage over the microphone, I somehow lifted from my seat and my feet started to move forward to the stage, taking my legs and body with them. I took the microphone and in it I spoke the words written below.

I did it… I chose FIGHT over flight. We are constantly faced with fight or flight scenarios everyday. Always choose fight no matter the pull to turn and run. There is no growth, lesson or learning in flight. You have to choose the hard one in order to keep moving forward.

I'm so gratful I was able to spin this yarn and have it so well received. I'm sharing it forward here for those who asked to hear it. I think there is so much power in openly sharing stories. So we can relate, laugh, inspire and grow ]

~

I spent a lot of time questioning what to talk about today. What do women what to hear? What can I share that will be impactful?? I wrote and re-wrote my speech a number of times and felt like, I just kept missing the mark. That it wasn’t good enough…and as that single thought popped into my head. I thought, WOW…am I STILL here?

After all my learnings and life lessons, I still let the whisper of doubt hold me back…and essentially waste; My. Own. Damn. Time.

There are not many things that I am sure of in life. But one thing I’m certain of, is the very fact that we only get one shot at it, and it baffles me to think that as a human race we are not all in passionate pursuit of our most authentic existence.

Easy to say, I know…Because it wasn’t all too long ago, that I was not living my best life and I was completely consumed by doubt, fear of change and letting go of something I loved deeply…and at times it looked like this photo.

Now to you this probably just looks like a very sad Gmac90…but to me this is a screenshot of my life at a particularly hard point in time.

We were navigating the dreadful intricacies of succession planning, while my dad was struggling with his mental and physical health, quiet heavily at the time.

We were running close to 8000 acres of arable land across Victoria and South Australia. Along with 3000 head of stock. Stretching from Nhill and up the Ngarkat highway to Lameroo.

If you’re unfamiliar with this country, it rangers from desert sands to deep rich loams.

Red gums to mallee scrub and of an evening blanketed by lavender candyfloss sunsets.

…A contrasting environment to my now home in the Northern Territory.

Surrounded by bulldust and the ever glow of the summer sun, as it burns red into the evening. Pandanus and crocodiles. Paperbarks and Brahmans

Its quiet a tail of how I got to be in the North. It’s a love story on a number of fronts.  

So please let me indulge you in part of my journey.

It begins as a young ambitious 30 year old.

I was deeply connected to our farm. Having grown up and worked alongside my dad from a child to an Adult. The adventures and love I have for our land are endless. A love that runs deep and one I will forever keep.

I was spoilt by the magic of country.

The comforts and details it would display to me on a daily basis was nothing short of magical.  Knowing how it moved and whispered.

Its sweet songs as it danced into each season and each day.

The hum of frosty winter mornings, and the buzz of ever-blue skies on a crisp summer’s day.

As the sun would fall into the horizon of an evening, the back roads were blanketed by warm dust as it hung in your taillights and created its own roughed. Country. Glitter.

 I love everything about the land, its moods, its seasons, its lessons and song.

It’s my happy place…And I had nothing but big plans for its future… for our future.

But on the other side of my blue skies was my Dad

and at the time he was not dancing to the same song as I.

While I was falling more and more in love with the land and my job.

My dad was falling out of it.

As a self made farmer starting with nothing but a dream and a boat load of ambition.

He worked hard to acquire land and took risks in pursuit of it.

He persisted through droughts and the constant challenges of farming…he worked extremely hard through his farming career and He is an all round great Dad and great bloke!

But our relationship became very strained when the future of our farm became compromised.

Dads mental health took a beating after his physical health deteriorated. Being a very capable and hard worker his entire life, came with its mental challenges when he then had to take a back seat for 12 months after knee surgery.

It was during this time that Dads drive for farming became almost non existent. Eventually I felt the effects of my own mental health deteriorating. I was so consumed by keeping the farm and everything else afloat, that I’d forgot to keep myself afloat. So instead of being rested, reasonable and understanding… I just worked harder and harder…and harder. Buring myself into work. Which eventually lead to physical and mental fatigue of my own and I become completely burnt out.

My relationship with Dad soon become toxic as our communication lines were broken. Instead of working together we were working against each other.

There were layers of tears, confusion, uncertainty and at times, unkindness towards each other.

…Now, I’ve pondered over the turning point to this story and I don’t know that I can quiet pin point it. But as I’ve reflected, I know it came from a collection of love.

Love from my siblings.

Love and support from my friends and simply the love I have from a good life.

A quality life.  

A passionate life.

But at the time being a single woman in my 30’s. I had somehow grown blinkers on the side of my face and a voice in my head that said:

You need to make something of yourself.

You need to settle down and be a successful farmer.

You need to be a leader.

You need to prove yourself…

The dreaded thought of walking away from the farm and not pursuing these ideals filled me with doubt. If you give up you’re a failure…”you’re not good enough”

I was burnt out, emotional, and less than my best self.

But I’m extremely lucky to have been built and grown up on a foundation of love, its at my chore. I am a collector of love.

People I love.

Places I love.

Storys I love…

But at this point in time I’d started to collect things that I did not love… Doubt, disappointment, frustration…poor perspective.

These things were cluttering my makeup. Who I was as a women, what I stood for.

I was becoming someone I did not recognise, because I had lost sight of what was truly important to me.

I was so fixated on the farm and work. I couldn’t bare the thought of selling up.

Consumed by questions of doubt…How? Where? And What?...If not our farm, what farm??

With current land prices, I knew once we got out it would be hard to get back in.

As the grip of doubt became tighter and my relationship with my Dad became extremely strained. I somehow made it back to my chore and I took off my blinkers and even though I was broken and felt as though I had nothing left to give. I still managed to love and I put that love back where it belongs most. Back into family.

So I let go…

I let go of my own damn suffering to make space for new growth.

I let go of frustration to rebuild a relationship.

I let go of my concrete dreams to make for more flexible ones.

I let go of the farm…and I let go so that my family could too…

Maybe that seems insignificant, letting go… sounds easy?? Two tiny little words…let go.

Its not easy, it’s a hard feet to let go of a dream, an idea, a love. It carries weight and a fear of failure. But it’s not worth the suffering to carry such a weight.

It's not worth your mental health, your relationships and your quality of this one precious life.

So after heavy discussion and many tears, I told my parents that I was going to leave the farm. Under the terms that they would make healthy decisions for our land and to better my Dads mental health. I found new perspective in letting go. I found a state of peace, acceptance and understanding that everything has a way of working out when we stop trying to control the outcome.

Change is often piggybacked by fear…But that fear turned out to be an incredible opportunity. There is peace in the unknown, not fear…

Fear is in the lead up. Peace is in the choice.

There is Peace in the space between where you are, and where you want to be when you embrace it. You’re no longer in the past or fixated on the future, but instead you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. It's in the here and now, leaning into life’s opportunities and possibilities and letting it present itself, instead of conforming yourself to how things should go, and how things should be.

I’ve learnt there’s a process in letting go and its closely followed by leaning in.

Leaning into the unknown, and although I found peace there, I also grieved there.

We sold and leased out our remaining land and amongst tears and heavy hearts,

I packed up my Landcruiser, sorted loose ends and whistled up one of my best belongings, my little red dog Dargo and we plugged destination unknown into my GPS.

But instead of basking in inspiring podcasts and blasting AC/DC through the speakers as I drove out our farm gates, I cried my whole way across the Nullarbor, as I made way for WA…It was an emotional sate I knew I had to endure. It is what makes life real…the highs and lows. Ying and Yang. Negative and positive and I found myself again as the current that flowed between the two. Gathering a bit of spark back.

I gave myself space to heal as I drove across the country side, breathing in my new found freedom and grieving the comforts of what I had left behind. I leaned back into life in a healthy and wholesome manner. It was through acceptance and gratefulness that life’s magic started to present itself again. In the little moments. The golden nuggets.

I was free, enjoying my own company and that of the open road and life began again to look a lot more magical than teary, dusty header cabs. (photo)

I was in pursuit of my most passionate authentic life again. Doors were opening as I travelled across the country and leading me to incredible people and unbelievable destinations.

Crystal coast lines of WA.

Vast lands of the Pilbara, to the Tropics of the Top End.

My soul was full of good people and good places.

Months spent contract mustering with a great team of young individuals.

To a casual trail riding job out of Bullara Station. Which included many great yarns over scones with jam and cream. I was in my element, and I was leaning into my truest and happiest self.

A spontaneous trip to Darwin lead me to a man I’ve fallen deeply in love with and is now the true reason I call the North home.

Now living and working alongside Munro at Carbeen Park, where we run a cropping operation and cattle agistment. I am riddled with love, the outback at my feet and that same red dog at my heals.

I had new perspective and spark.

I truly believe that everything you see as a wrong turn is often leading you to a better destination. Choose the hard road. Make a tough decision. Back yourself. Say Yes.

Put doubt in the trash and kick it to the kerb.

We need to be in pursuit of our most passionate authentic existence. If life is currently weighing you down all to often, I encourage you to make a change to better your life. For yourself and for the ones you love.

Life is too short to be anything less than magnificent.

You are worth more than your worst days.

I recently went to a quiet concert put on by Luke O’shea and he sang a song called, “how well have you loved?” and in the lyrics he sings “the hardest thing is forgiveness” and as I pondered over his song it got me thinking.

How well have you loved? Are you proud of your own story so far? Would you re-read it? Would you feel inspired by it? Or would you just skip to the good chapters instead of learning the lessons from the dark ones?

Mental health, Succession, farming and family are words that can carry a lot of baggage.

At some point, we need to stop repeating our own hardship and start evolving from it.

We need to do better for the next person in line.

Although the succession of our farm was messy, what made ours a success is the fact that our family is genuinely happy and healthy. 

I still dream of owning my own plot of land someday and I’m currently taking healthy steps forward to make that a reality. But for the present moment I could not dream of a better existence. Than the one I now have under the warmth of the Territory sky. Alongside my partner Munro and my little red dog Dargo. Indulging in the beauty, and at times hardship of the North.

I have never been happier.

There is much more to this love story, but I will leave you with this…

The lesson - Home is not an address and success is not a status.

So let go of the reins. Give the horse its head.