a work in progress


It’s been a while. More on that another day.

I wanted to chronicle my lessons + notes of 2020 (easily the biggest year of my life) here.

I’m sure I’ll learn them all over again in 2021.


Magnesium helps you sleep.

You can look after your kid in a lockdown and not go bat shit crazy.

I am an introvert for real.

No point assuming people are going to judge you harshly, mostly, they give you love instead.

Sauté that leek in butter and put it on toast with cheese, salt and cracked pepper. Life changing.

Don’t paste another person’s life stories over your tomorrows.
You are not that person.

My Dad makes epic chai.

It’s always darkest before the dawn.
(I thought this originated from Florence and The Machine, but it’s actually from Thomas Fuller, a theologian). 

Sufi lyrics are everything.

Not everything I write here stands the test of time.
Hindsight is both painful and wonderful.

Do it your way. It. Always. Pays. Off.
(Even if you can’t see how it did pay off).

As I teach Aru, it’s ok to lean on each other.
As I teach Aru, I learn it for myself.

You can exit any situation you don’t want to be in.
The question hangs in the balance of what you’re ok to risk / lose.

Pic’s Peanut Butter is consistently the best.

Those that love you, will show you their love time and time again, even when you haven’t been the best version of yourself.

Meditation is addictive.

How someone treats you is a reflection of what they’re going thru.
What you take from it, is a reflection on you.

We are all hurting and healing. Tread softly. Judge less KK.

It’s ok to turn off all notifications.

Illegal hugs are the best kind of hugs.

I have felt more at peace looking at leaves and the ocean than in a temple.

Contrary to what I believed. People can change.
You just can’t force that change. The universe does that bit.

When you are expecting it the least, love can come at you
as swiftly as torrential rains in the midst of a heatwave.



Dearest Aru (early June, 2019),

My little man.

You are extraordinary.

We asked you if you wanted to go to Singapore without us.

At 5, you said yes.

And you went.

And you loved it.


I held back a tear or two when I saw your little hand,

holding your chacha’s.

With that red backpack.

Walking far off.

Not looking back.


I held back a tear or two, when your Daddy played “Yaari” in the car.

How would you manage without us?

Whom would you turn to?

When you woke up in the night?

If the food was too spicy?

Or if no one understood that all you needed was a nap?


But you loved it.

And Aru.

I want you to know.


You’ve always known.

What you’re ready for.

What you’re capable of.


And I trust that.

Stick with that gut.

Stick with your vibes.


If there is one thing I want to have taught you through all these years.

It’s only this:

Listen to your insides.


They’ll never let you down.

There may be lessons to learn,

And that is ok,

Mummy gets lots of lessons all the time.


But you’d rather live thru it all,

Having lived.

Than avoided your fears.

And living a life half lived.


Love you,

x Maa.

A little dahl, will do.

My dearest.

There are tears in your eyes as you speak.

Welling up.

You won’t let them fall.

I listen, in silence.

Because this a grief I do not know.

I can’t fathom.

Haven’t been thru.

So I feel.

I have nothing to offer.

No words of solace.

And as we leave,

The tears in my eyes fall.

And we hug.

Woman to woman.

Stillness to soul.


And so I cook for you.

The one thing I know to do.

My mother’s dahl.


I let the mustard seeds burst.

Curry leaves from the garden.

Toovar dahl, soft and blended.

Just the way my mum makes it.


I put in jaggery for sweetness in your day.

Lemon juice for strength in your body.

Corriander powder for iron and the fire in you.

Chilli powder to make you feel hugged.


I put in my metta.

My good vibes.

The only way I know.

I taste it and I know.

It’s just right as it is.


A mother’s love, from my mother to me.

From my motherhood to yours.

My dearest.

My tears still fall for you.

I know the dahl will not do.



A little comfort.

On the worst of days.

When the tears don’t stop.

When Netflix doesn’t numb enough.

When dark thoughts sweep like torrents in your mind.

And you can’t see any light.

A little dahl.

Will do.


Till today turns into the next.

And little by little,

The darkness shifts.

And the healing starts.



A little dahl.

Will do.




Holier Than Thou

Don’t judge her.

That woman who poses all up in her Insta with bikinis and butt flesh.

You have no idea how badly he broke her heart.

Don’t judge her.

The mother who won’t get her child jabbed.

She saw a world of chemicals and toxins, and you haven’t seen the darkness she saw.

Don’t judge her.

That woman who has a sharp tongue and speaks her mind far too often.

You have no idea the grief her own tenderness brought her.

Don’t judge her.

That woman with the FENDI handbag who has every nail manicured and every freckle concealed.

She feels good when the sales assistants make way for her, because there was a time when they didn’t.

Don’t judge her.

That scraggly looking woman with 3 kids in the backseat, groaning and yelling. You’ll presume she brought this on herself. But honey, you’ve got no idea.

Don’t judge her.

I know we do it in our thoughts.

And that is really, really hard to control.

But at least.

We can try and hold our tongues back.

Hold our fingers back from typing out the words.

Because we do it to each other.

Woman to woman.

And all we’re doing.

Is bringing us all down.



Zero Fucks

I always used to read criticism around famous people.

Thinking, “well it’s part of the job”.

It comes with the territory.

Till I was on the receiving end.

I remember crying down the phone to V.

Saying, “if this is how it’s going to be, I don’t want to be in it”.

Ready to give up the game.

Give up Kholo.

Give up being me.

It was a sleepless night.

I never had sleepless nights.

I realised.

I cared.

Of what people thought of me.

Of goodwill.

Of good opinions.

The shame burnt upon my cheeks.

When a friend sent me a sympathy message.

My ego soared in self defence.

And it took time.

Tears. Hugs. Time.

I remember just wanting the biggest of hugs from Aru.

Because for once in my life.

I knew what his innocence meant.

It meant someone who didn’t care.

Didn’t know.

To whom it simply didn’t matter.

Whether I was falling, or getting up, or soaring.

It just didn’t matter.

And I cradled him like my life depended on it.

Because I needed that.

And now.

Looking back.

I realise.

I can never. Ever. Have the goodwill of everyone.

I’ve seen people for their truer shades.

There were those who stepped in for the hugest of cuddles.

And those that couldn’t help themselves and pin pricked the wounds.

And I know.

That it doesn’t matter.

It simply.

Doesn’t matter.

So we simply.

Dust off the dirt.

Pick ourselves up.

And continue on,

As we meant to go.




(July, 2018)

Can I just say.

Learning to give zero fucks.

Is golden.

There For You.

I’ve woken up, so unsettled.

You were in my dream.

Vivid and real.

All boyish. Slightly surly, slightly off hand, mostly masculine.

And then when there was no one else and the car door closed, you reached out your hand.

And I didn’t skip a beat.

My hand into yours.

And you let it all out.

The fears.

The worries.

The pain.

The heartbreak.

And you wanted me for you.

But I had somewhere else to be.

And maybe I understand now.

What the dream was for.

I have someone else, to be for.

I’m sorry my love.



The Victims

I have a type of friend I avoid.

A type of conversation I avoid.

Run the other way.

She’s the victim.

Everything is wrong in her world.

It’s everyone else’s fault.

Life is a struggle.

And I think the simple truth is.

It’s too close to home.

Reminds me of myself.

And I know.

I can’t fix it for you sweetheart.

There are not enough words I can offer to empower you.

So instead.

You suck.

The life out of me.

And I can’t.

Be that for you.


I’m simply.

Not strong.





Dearest Aru (May 2019),

You won’t believe what your mummy is capable of.

Every night, under Tasmanian skies,

I thought of you.

The stars filled the sky, from North to South,
East to West.

And each night, we saw the moon, change it’s form.

Aru, I was in a forest.

In the dead of the night.

No torch.

And I was in some sort of a heaven.

I can’t explain it.

Your city, swag, gourmet loving mum can’t explain it.

Maybe Daddy can.

He says he always knew it was in me.

From the moment he met me.

And I know.

I know.

He’s right.

Maybe one day,

We’ll peel back the layers,

And find your Tasmanian mummy,

In the city mummy.



It’s Corny (consider yourself warned)

I think after the miscarriage, I went through what I’ve labelled as “mild depression”. It wasn’t too bad, I probably got a bit addicted to sugar to keep me afloat and am thankful to Aru for giving me a reason to drag myself out of bed.

In the middle of it tho, there was a lot of Ayurvedic support medicine I was taking and I just started getting back to my basics. Less work, a little yoga. Homemade food. Friends. That sort of stuff.

And one thing was more meditation.

I am a total sucker for Deepak & Oprah.

And one thing Oprah said really rang true for me.

She said.

It’s corny.

Be warned.

But she said.

Say “Yes To Life”.

And I realised.

That for a long time, outside of Kholo, I had been saying no.

No, I don’t want to go to Bendigo to see the Marimekko exhibit, it’s too far.

No, I don’t want to see friends, because of XYZ.

No, I don’t want to go see that movie because what if it’s not good enough?

I wanted every experience to be 100% perfection.

So much so, I had started missing out on experiences in general.

Now, I’m trying to get back to just saying yes.

To having something to look forward to over the weekend.

To catching up with friends, even though I may need to process some vibes (I tell you, I feel soooo much :/).

To having potentially bad experiences (as well as amazing ones).

All I’m saying is.

There was a greenhouse in Bendigo and it was so, so beautiful.


Say Yes To Life.

And it’s beautiful surprises 🙂


(May, 2018)

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