'How is life in Adelaide a source of inspiration for your writing.'

Inspiration is the “process of being mentally stimulated to do something”. But, it also means to draw breath, to inhale.

I think this is very appropriate. That is always what inspiration has felt like to me: like breathing! Why do I write? Because I have to in order to survive, basically.

So, how has this city we live in inspired me in my writing?

That’s easy. Adelaide is home.

I write about people, and emotion, and experiences I have had in my life, and about home. 

I am a displaced person, I have lived in 3 different countries and this is the place where I belong.

I arrived in Adelaide as a 15 year old foreigner who barely spoke English, and have remained here ever since.

You could say that Adelaide has been my nest, or the ground where I have grown roots.

My children were born here, this is where I found love, and went to University. Adelaide has a belt of trees that breathe air into the city. The lungs of the city. When I go for a walk just down the road I can see it, and feel it, and smell it and there is breathtaking beauty that not only inspires me, but feeds my soul, and reminds me of the hills I left behind in Concepcion, so far away now.

Adelaide has similar climate to my home town, and the geography is similar, down to the river and the proximity to the ocean. Having been part of Gondwana land so long ago, the southern tip of Chile even has similar fauna, and when I walk our national parks, I am transported back to my childhood and the summers spent hiking in the hills and collecting red earth to make models; and smelling the eucalyptus sap that hung in the air when the heat of the day steamed it out of the leaves.

How can I not be inspired should be the question.

Every day I am inspired by my surroundings and the people, and the colours and flavours, the markets, the festivals, my children who are made of Adelaide soil and air; honed by the sun and the river and the water that flows in this beautiful black fertile soil. I would not be who I am without this city, I feel like I have earned a key to it, that has opened up my entire world and given me an education, a job, and people to call my own. Comfort, and love, and happiness beyond measure that continues every day.

It is a refuge away from the begging and the pain that I witnessed in Chile, and a comfort in the knowledge that I will be looked after and those I love will be looked after, and cared for and will receive the comforts that seemed so uncertain when I was a teenager growing up in the third world.

Chile is beautiful, and I will always miss the snow topped mountains, and the Spanish language flowing through my veins; but while Chile is my infancy and my kindergarten, Adelaide is my youth, my present and my future. How can I undo a life of learning and security that this place has given me? I am inspired every day to be a good person, good doctor and a good mother.

So, this is the air I breathe. Adelaide is my muse. I will continue to breathe/write here.  

Please visit the other writers who have taken part in this blog chain

"https://www.facebook.com/groups/writersinadelaide/
"https://adelaidedad.com/…/adelaide-an-inspired-life-for-wr…
"http://www.deanfromaustralia.com/…/adelaide-inspired-city.h…
"http://www.jennifersando.com/cityinspiration/" 
"https://kirstydavisart.com.au/adelaide-inspiration" 
"http://writing-the-message.com/life-in-adelaide-a-source-o…/

Forgetting in my old age

I lost my way. I am not sure when it happened exactly, or how long ago. But I lost my way.
I stopped trusting, believing in myself. I started doubting, and wondering if what I was doing was the wrong thing. How on earth did that happen? I worked really hard to find that strength in me, and I am a tad disappointed in myself.

I took stock in the last few weeks, and realised that my self love: the one that says that I will accept me regardless of the number on the tag of my clothes, or the size of the dark circles under my eyes, or the tone of my teens voices, had disappeared. That love that would echo my thoughts, and say: "Of course you know what to do, and if you don't, you'll find out!". Damn it!!!! How could I forget?
I guess sometimes it happens because you get knocked down over and over again, and the last time, you allow it to make you lie down for a while. And then you simply forget you fell over, you just stay there and allow people to walk all over you.

I realised mostly when I was preparing to update my blog, and was thinking about the piece I was going to write. And then I looked at it in my mind, and it sounded whingie. Fuck, when did I get whingie? When on earth did I become a martyr, a "poor me" type? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I refuse to be that woman, no matter what the pressure remains for feminine women to appear to need to be rescued. I refuse to stay lying down.

So shit has happened, so life is hard. So what? No one ever said it was meant to be easy, and haven't I always thrived under pressure? When did the anxiety consume me rather than fuel me?
I need to start saying: "Good morning, the sun is shining, and I am alive". And "what will I teach my children today?". Lately, the self talk has been more like: "I cannot teach my children anything else", "I have had my time, I am no longer useful". Since fucking when????????

My message here is, that no matter what, I will always be worthy. So, okay, my relationships have mostly not worked out, my preferred career wasn't to be, and internet dating has mostly sucked, I haven't finished my book, my serial attempts at shrinking my arse have resulted in a tight, but large arse. But the point is: I AM ALIVE, I have people who love me and appreciate me (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRECIOUS FEW), I am still useful, I am still learning, I am still writing, I am still going to the gym and watching what I eat, I am still dating, and I am still hoping, and loving, and making my life worthwhile.
Next time I tell myself otherwise, someone please shake me! And my hope is that people genuinely never stop talking about hard stuff, the stuff that really matters. Let's not become a society where these topics are taboo. Life sucks most of the time, let's acknowledge it, let's deal with it. Hug someone, be someone's strength when they are low. I know without those people who continue to be my strength I wouldn't be writing these words today.