Ejo #159 – What Is An Artist?: The Orquevaux Diaries (Part One)

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In May of last year I spent two weeks in Chateau Orquevaux in the French countryside, taking part in an artist’s residency programme designed to give artists a “respite from real world energy”, immersing them in a natural, beautiful environment surrounded by other creative people and the opportunity to find inspiration.  I’m not even kidding bitches, I actually did that!!!  As you all know, I’m a writer, and I’ve always been a writer.  But am I an artist?  I’ve never really allowed myself to identify as that.  Calling myself an artist in the past has always felt inauthentic and ostentatious.  So when David and I visited our friends, Nat and Andy, in rural France about four years ago, and they suggested I apply to a local artist residency run by a friend of theirs,  I was flattered that they saw me in that way, but never imagined, in a million years, that I would actually do it. 

And then a pandemic happened.  I don’t know if you guys remember, but everything kind of… changed.  I changed.  And in March 2021, during a global lockdown, I decided that I would apply to the Chateau’s artist residency programme after all.  Plot twist: I was accepted!!  This both thrilled and terrified me.  I would now have to come up with the goods, and I would have to justify my acceptance.  I would have to be an artist.  Following is Part One of the diary/immersion therapy notes I kept during my two weeks in the Chateau.

DAY #1 – FRIDAY, 13TH MAY 2022
I’m not superstitious so I wasn’t worried about having to travel from Amsterdam to the French countryside on Friday the 13th.  Perhaps I should have been a little more wary.  Or at the very least I should have been a little more sensible about it.  Foolishly, David and I stayed up stupidly late last night, not getting to bed until 3.30am.  Listen, when you’re on holiday in your favourite city in the world, being sensible can sometimes be a little too much to ask.  Anyway, 45 minutes after I closed my eyes, the alarm clock went off and I had to get up and pack for my 8am flight to Lyon.  Ouch.  David’s travelling to Australia to spend some time with his parents while I’m in France, but he’s not flying until tomorrow.  Saying goodbye to him this morning was really tough.  Maybe because I was still hammered, maybe because I was running on empty, or maybe because I love him very much, saying goodbye was absolutely gut-wrenching.  Part of me was genuinely tempted to say, “Fuck France!” and cancel my trip, so that I could stay with my boo.  But the grownup part of me forced myself to go through the motions of saying farewell, getting into my Uber and waving goodbye.  My adventure had begun. 

Being fatigued while you’re travelling is pretty damn unpleasant.  But at least I could steal a few zzz’s during the flight.  The really hard part started when I had to find my rental car at Lyon airport (which is no mean feat, as the office is located away from the terminal and reachable only by shuttle).  After seeing an orange Sixt sign whiz past us in the bus, I got up to ask the driver if we’d be returning to it, just as she executed one of her more violent manoeuvres, throwing me around the bus like a rag doll.  None of the other passengers seemed to mind that I was sprawled on the bus floor, arms and legs akimbo.  C’est bon bitches, don’t worry about me, I’m absolutely fine. 

I got to the car rental office and, in my vulnerable state, allowed myself to be talked into spending an extra half a million euros for full insurance coverage.  I might be exaggerating, but fuck me, I might not.  I was in a fugue state, so who the hell knows.  I found my car and spent about 45 minutes figuring out how to change the language settings from French to English, and another half an hour programming the navigation system to take me where I needed to go.  If only the car could drive me there too.  But alas, I had to drive myself.  And I really had to focus on staying awake. 

Four and a half hours (and a few rest stops, including a coffee nap) later, I texted David, “I MADE IT!!”  It felt wonderful to drive through the gates that finally announced my arrival at Chateau Orquevaux.  I followed the road up to the house and felt a sense of elation at the iconic building that I’d grown so accustomed to seeing in my Instagram feed.  It was even more wonderful and beautiful and awe-inspiring in real life.  I parked the car and walked up the road towards the chateau, crossing paths with a lovely young woman holding a flower walking the other way.  We stopped to introduce ourselves and have a chat.  Her name was Marcie and she’d also arrived today for a two week residency.  We waved goodbye to each other as I carried on to the kitchen where I met Otto, the general hand, and Quentin, the assistant chef.  They helped carry my heavy (oh, so heavy) bags up the stairs and showed me to my room on the first floor of the chateau. 

Chateau Orquevaux, in all it’s springtime glory

My room is, of course, absolutely beautiful, but I have to admit it’s not what I was hoping for.  I’d requested my own accommodation in the village and been told that I could expect that.  But it’s OK, I’m here now.  Sure there’s no lock on the door (eek!). And sure, I have to share a bathroom.  But I’m not going to make a fuss about it.  I’m going to Go With The Flow™.

My gorgeous room. Home for the next two weeks.

Welcome drinks were followed by dinner, and we all ate family style around the large dining table, introducing ourselves and getting to know each other.  A couple of people confused me with Marcie, which I took as a great compliment.  I guess we do look kind of similar.  Everyone is super lovely, but it does seem difficult to make one-on-one connections because most of them have already been here for two weeks of a four week residency. I had hoped that I would very easily feel like I belonged in this group, like we were all in it together, but instead I feel a little bit like an interloper, like someone who’s gatecrashing and doesn’t belong.  Maybe it’s just because I’m so exhausted.  And so drunk.  Hopefully I’ll feel differently tomorrow.

DAY #2 – SATURDAY, 14TH MAY 2022
Today was the group shopping trip to Chaumont, a large town about 45 minutes drive away.  Beulah, the Chateau’s Artist Residency Director, drove us in her minivan, and on the way there Marcie and I bonded some more in the back seat, talking about the trauma of our mothers recently dying.  I was grateful to her for sharing her story with me, and for wanting to listen to mine, and it made me feel even closer to her.

I didn’t buy anything at the art store, but it was fun to look around.  Afterwards, we drove to the huge LeClerc supermarket in town where we stocked up on provisions, snacks and booze.  The chateau has an amazing kitchen crew, headed by Chef Marie, and they cook dinner for us most nights, so I stuck to the necessities.  Rosé and sparkling water. 

Super cute on the outside, but very rock’n’roll on the inside, the magnificent Chef Marie. 🤘

When we got home I accidentally nodded off in my armchair for half an hour, and I dreamt that I kept passing out but was unable to alert anyone in the chateau that I was about to faint.  In my dream, I couldn’t speak or make a sound, so I silently fell to the floor, losing consciousness as people left the room, or walked around me.  I mean, c’mon, Freud would blow his fucking load with that shit.

Along with most of the others, I’ve been assigned a studio on the second floor of the chateau, but my room has a perfectly lovely desk in it and I prefer writing here. After my disquieting nap I decided to move my desk, which had been placed against a wall, turning it to face the window instead. The feng shui of the room was instantly improved, and I settled down to an afternoon of writing.

At 5pm, Ziggy, the founder of the residency and owner of the chateau held an oral history presentation of the property and its metamorphosis into an artist’s retreat.  This remarkable man inherited a dilapidated, 19th century chateau and in the last seven years has transformed it into a place that invites artists from all over the world to gather, create, collaborate, explore, learn, grow, stretch, and to just be.  Hearing about how Ziggy made that happen only increased my awe at the Chateau, and how he’s managed to turn his lofty dream into a reality.  I feel inspired and invigorated.  I love being here.

DAY #3 – SUNDAY, 15TH MAY 2022
Today we went for a walk.  Quite a long walk, through the fields and forests of the surrounding area.  It was beautiful.  We were looking for The Source.  The birthplace of the fount of water that flows from the ground, and which has moulded and shaped this part of the world for centuries.  It started off quite easy, strolling through grasslands, and later became a little more challenging, as we traversed steep, angled inclines, jumped over slippery, mossy logs, crisscrossed rocky river beds and even, at one point, balanced over a thin beam as we navigated across a wide stream.  It was a lot of fun, and despite a couple of wrong turns we eventually made it to The Source, sadly already dried up for the season. 

From left: Andrew, Marcie, Jad, Charles, Elissa, Jonny, me, Christine, Noah and Avital. Missing are Catherine, Viktoria and Alonso.

When we got back to the chateau, all hot and sweaty, most of us headed down to the swimming hole to jump into the icy cold water.  Afterwards, the sun glistening on our wet bodies, we lay on the grass and talked. It was such a carefree scene, and I basked in the tranquility of the idyllic surrounds.  I allowed myself to nurse a very tiny and tentative sense of belonging, quietly holding it close.  I wish I could feel this way all the time.  All I have to do is stay out of my own head. 

Despite having a really lovely day, I had a terrible time at dinner tonight, feeling isolated, and on the outs.  Definitely very much in my head.  One of the group commented that I was always drinking wine.  Yeah, so what?  I also caught a couple of the younger kids just staring at me every now and again, like they were examining a specimen on a petri-dish.  Was I imagining that?  I couldn’t tell, but it made me uncomfortable.  And that made me even more awkward, which made everything worse.  I silently berated myself for not being able to just relax and fit in with everyone else.  What the hell is wrong with me?  Am I really suddenly incapable of conducting a one-on-one conversation?  Whenever I spoke, eyes glazed over.  People listened out of politeness.  They were uninterested, because I wasn’t being interesting.  I was being inauthentic.  Why couldn’t I just be myself?  I was sucking the energy out of the room.  I’ve never sucked the energy out of the room in my life, but thinking that I was, made it so.  I was not having a good time.  I was spiralling.  So, I drank more.  Even if it didn’t make things any better, I noticed it less, so it was better for me. 

Tonight I didn’t stay up with the gang.  I wanted to be alone.  I needed to figure out what was happening to me, and more importantly, how to stop it.  I sat in my room, in the fading light, nursing a whiskey, listening to the hubbub of lively conversation floating up from the fire pit below my window.  I didn’t begrudge their easy friendship, their breezy closeness.  I just had to figure out why I needed so badly to be part of it.

I haven’t always been like this.  Way back in the day I used to be gregarious, outgoing, extroverted, sociable and confident.  And then in 2008 I moved from Melbourne to Dubai, leaving my entire family and all of my friends behind.  In the time it took to fly 15,000km, I completely lost my entire support system.  My tribe back home was so close-knit, so accepting, so reinforcing, so supportive and so loving, that I’d foolishly expected to easily find friends in Dubai.  But I didn’t.  I couldn’t connect with anybody.  I developed social anxiety, and I started thinking that something was terribly wrong with me.  It took a lot of therapy to accept that I was OK.  But I’ve been having major flashbacks of those feelings the last couple of days. 

I sipped my whiskey, and I ruminated.  And I travelled even further back, to the eighties.  Back to high school.  Even though I was always a weird kid, I never felt bad about myself.  I just didn’t make friends easily.  I spent most of high school on the outside looking in.  And I had some really difficult experiences.  Rejections.  Bullying.  Name calling.  Even by the people who I thought were my friends.  One pivotal moment for me, when I was 14, was being on a school excursion and being abandoned on an escalator going down, as my “friends” ran back up.  At first I thought it was a game and I started running up too.  But I stopped when I saw them running away.  Something inside of me broke when I realised that they were running away from me.  They didn’t want to be my friend.  They had just pretended to like me.  And that hurt.  I felt bewildered, humiliated and betrayed.  This was high school for me.  I learned to be fine with it, but it left a scar.  Guess what Chryss, it looks like the scar might still be there.  And I’ve been picking at the scab. 

Finally, sitting in the dark, my whiskey glass empty, it started to become clear to me that I’ve let myself down these first few days of my residency.  I brought fifty years worth of baggage and an almost pathological need for approval to the Chateau, and ended up having some kind of mid-life crisis in a place of artistry, creation and beauty.  I’ve been imploding inwards, instead of blossoming outwards.  All my feelings of not belonging, of being too weird, of being the odd one out, of people not getting me, are ancient feelings that no longer belong to me.  They belong to that young girl on the escalator.  I didn’t come here to make friends.  I came to write, and I’ve allowed myself to get sidetracked by feeling that I need to become BFFs with everyone here.  Realising my mistake will hopefully make it easier to just let it go, and refocus my attention towards my work.  I don’t need to stumble my way through any more awkward conversations.  I’ll work during the day, eat with the others at night and keep to myself the rest of the time.

DAY #4 – MONDAY, 16TH MAY 2022
While selected artists beat out hundreds (and sometimes thousands) of applicants, you still have to pay to attend Chateau Orquevaux’ artist residency.  Nineteenth century buildings don’t look after themselves you know.  They require a lot of maintenance, especially if left in disrepair for a couple hundred years.  The first few residency intakes functioned almost as working bees, helping to slowly bring the chateau back to life.  It’s been beautifully restored but still needs a lot of work.  Luckily, each artist is generously awarded the Denis Diderot Artist-in-Residency Grant, which goes some way towards paying for our room, board and studio space while in residency.  In return for the grant, artists are requested to bequeath one of their works to the chateau. A charming pact. 

As a writer, I wondered what I could possibly leave behind as my contribution.  I pondered the question for months, before being struck by inspiration.  I decided that I would interview everyone, gather all the interviews into a printed compendium and gift a copy to the Chateau.  Fucking brilliant, if I do say so myself.  The only problem?  I would have to interview everyone.  I am painfully aware of my inclination towards shyness in large groups of unfamiliar people, so a few weeks before we arrived I’d brashly announced my intention to interview all the artists in a group email, as a way of forcing myself out of my shell.  It seemed like a great idea at the time, but so far I’m not really feeling it, and I kind of wish that I had never made such an audacious declaration. 

I did have an amazing breakthrough last night, but I’m still feeling a little vulnerable and withdrawn.  To counter that, I have decided to artistically express myself sartorially, by dressing up for dinnertime.  I brought a couple of dress-up costumes with me, so why not?!  Tonight I wore a very short, very low cut black velvet dress with sparkles on it.  I was initially very uncomfortable with how short the dress was but I gained confidence during the night, and by the time midnight came around I was absolutely rocking it.  Did alcohol help?  A little.  Did my newfound confidence also help?  Definitely. 

And of course (of course!!!), once I stopped caring so very much about making these young artists like me, we all seemed to click more easily.  Our conversations weren’t as laboured.  I didn’t feel like a total social leper.  Had I been creating drama where there was none?  I’m certain that everyone here would be shocked to learn what I’ve been putting myself through.  There’s no way they could know that I’ve been torturing myself about our interactions.  I think it’s time to let it all go.  It’s day four and I am fully focussed now on being here, being present, and getting down to the business of creating beautifully written work. 

DAY #5 – TUESDAY, 17TH MAY 2022
Today I figured out my daily morning routine.  Yoga on the small platform jutting out over the lake, followed by a dip in the nearby swimming hole.  I took my bikini with me, but decided at the last minute to swim in the nude, shedding my clothes and slipping into the freezing cold water in just my birthday suit.  There’s something primeval and visceral about swimming naked, communing with nature as nature intended.  It evokes a sense of oneness with the environment, stripping away the formality and structure of modern existence.  I gazed up at the early morning sky as my feet brushed against the reeds.  I swam deeper, floating away, luxuriating in the feeling of playfulness and freedom as my skin prickled with the cold and the feeling slowly drained from my fingers and toes.  Afterwards, while drying myself with a towel, I wondered if a prudish neighbour might complain to Ziggy or Beulah about the chubby Aussie chick prancing around the grounds naked, but I figured if you can’t skinny dip at an artist’s residency, where the hell can you skinny dip. 

Walking barefoot back to the chateau after my swim, I came upon a copse of trees and noticed a path, guarded by two deer sentries carved from stone.  Giving them each a light boop on the nose, I followed the path and entered their woodland paradise.  Motes of dappled light shone through the canopy, shimmering on the green foliage. I looked around in wonder, feeling my heartbeat slow down in the enveloping serenity.  Were these woods infested with ticks?  Probably.  Was the path latticed with spider webs?  I can confirm that it was.  But I had discovered a perfect, tiny, natural wonderland, within a wonderland.  And for now, this place was my secret.    

My secret garden.

Later that day, I took a break from writing to have lunch in the shade under a big tree, overlooking the lake.  It was a simple meal of boiled eggs, cheese and a glass of white wine.  Afterwards I went for a walk down the hill to the waterfall, and looking down at the water I was reminded of the meditation exercise I sometimes do to calm myself when I’m anxious.  I tell myself to soften, and allow.  To just let things be, and to allow my troubles to flow around me.  I could see the water flowing over rocks and moss, into the lake below and I softened, and I allowed myself to become the water.  And in doing so, a torrent of tears welled up from deep inside of me and cascaded down my face. 

In the gorgeous French countryside, surrounded as I was by beauty and peace and serenity, I wept.  I lifted my gaze towards the chateau, in all its majesty.  Were my tears precipitated by the previous few days of mangled self-perception and anxiety?  No, I don’t think so.  I was simply overcome with emotion at the sheer beauty of the place I find myself in.  And, despite my self-inflicted emotional rollercoaster ride, I still feel completely at home here.  As though a small part of me was born in this house, and was being welcomed back with loving arms.  What Ziggy has created here is a truly special place on earth.  It is a veritable paradise, and the artist within me feels small, but real for the very first time.  I could imagine myself living out the rest of my days here.  Writing at my desk, overlooking the vast, and glorious expanse of natural beauty.  Serenaded by the breeze murmuring through the trees, the distant, babbling waterfall and the lazy twittering of the birds.  Stopping every now and again to have some wine and cheese, and then writing some more.  Every single day from now until I die.  I could imagine this.   

I softened, and allowed it all to flow out, and the flowing brought with it a sense of being swept clean, followed by a feeling of peace and catharsis.  It’s OK to cry.  I am in a magical world, and it’s taken me a few days, but I finally do feel that I’m in the right place.  I know that I was embraced from the moment I arrived.  I just had to allow myself to be embraced.  I had to allow myself to feel that I deserved it and that I belonged here.

Walking back to my spot under the big tree, I heard footsteps coming up the hill, and I turned to see Marcie approaching with a plate of food.  She asked if it was OK to sit with me while she ate her lunch, and I said yes.  If it had been anyone else, I think I would have made my excuses and left, embarrassed by the evidence of tears in my eyes.  Instead, I found myself telling Marcie about my experience.  She sympathetically recounted her own feelings of heaviness from the day before, and we cried together.  We shared our stories and our pains, and our burgeoning bond was strengthened even more.

Tonight was kind of quiet after dinner.  Most of the regular night owls went to bed early after their big day trip to Dijon.  But Marcie and I stayed up and shared a bottle of rosé with Jonny and Jad, following them up to their studios on the second floor of the chateau to check out their work, where I was absolutely blown away by Jonny’s portraits.  He’s got such an interesting and unique style, very distinctive.  Very Jonny.  He uses his old, handwritten rap lyrics as an element of découpage, incorporating the paper and words into the background, and sometimes even into the portrait itself.  I absolutely love it. 

Once we were finished in his studio, Jonny jokingly asked me to walk him home to his cottage in the village, and I said fuck yeah, why not?  We poured ourselves a dram of whiskey each, and ambled back to his beautiful village house, arm in arm.  Along the way I mustered up the courage to ask him if he would paint my portrait, and he said he’d love to.  Squee!  After I’d made sure he was home safe and sound, I immensely enjoyed the stroll home by myself in the dark, under a canopy of bright stars.  Everyone else was asleep, and as I meandered around the Chateau, drinking in the night sky and savouring the cool air, I lovingly kept watch over them all.

DAY #6 – WEDNESDAY, 18TH MAY 2022
Today, I quietly snuck out and drove to the supermarket in Chaumont to stock up on more rosé, snacks and sparkling water.  I felt a little guilty about not asking if anyone else wanted to come with me, but it felt fantastic to get out by myself, and I enjoyed the freedom of having the rental car.  Later that afternoon, I had a lovely video chat with David who is in Adelaide with his family.  We are missing each other a lot, but I imagine that it’s much harder for him because I am so busy and engaged with everything that is happening here.  It was nice to have a chat and to see his beautiful face. 

And then, despite my cold feet, I just bit the bullet and went upstairs to interview Jonny in his studio.  And I am absolutely thrilled with the way it turned out.  He is such a wonderful subject, and such a cool, easygoing guy.  He really put me at ease and answered all my questions so beautifully.  I adore this young man.  He’s a delight to be around and we really connected in his studio.  I’m so grateful to him for making my first interview so easy, and now I’m actually looking forward to interviewing everyone else too.  I feel like it’s going to produce something really special. 

Afterwards I looked for Catherine’s studio, as we had talked about doing an interview in the afternoon, but she wasn’t there.  I wandered around and accidentally stumbled upon Beulah’s office, and she invited me in to chat for a bit.  We ended up talking for nearly an hour, and she told me all about her career in Australia and then Hong Kong, and what led her to the Chateau (and to Ziggy, wink wink).  She is so fun, so nice, so engaging, so encouraging, so lovely, so kind, so empathetic and so compassionate.  Yes, I know I’m gushing.  It’s on purpose. Beulah is perfect in the role she plays at the chateau, of making sure that all the artists are taken care of and are feeling OK.  I told her about the anxiety I’ve been experiencing, and she assured me that it was not unusual at all for people to feel like that coming into the residency, especially when arriving mid-way through a month long programme (which is something they’re working on avoiding in the future). It really made me feel a lot better.  We chatted lots, had some laughs and took some selfies. And I walked away feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Just two Aussie chicks in a chateau in the French countryside.

Before arriving at the chateau, all the artists had been introduced to each other on social media, and Christine was the person I’d instantly clicked with, and was most keen to meet.  She’s kind of like the perfect person, which can be a little bit intimidating.  She’s extremely beautiful, and a very talented artist.  But she’s also witty, and funny and charismatic.  She’s just very fucking cool.  I had really hoped that we would hit it off, but unfortunately that hasn’t been the case.  She seems quite aloof towards me, which isn’t really surprising considering the shitty vibe that I’ve been putting out.  For some reason I really feel the need to connect with her, but I just get so nervous around her.  So when Christine complimented me on my dress at dinner tonight, saying that she likes the way I’m making an effort to do something special every evening, it absolutely made my day. 

DAY #7 – THURSDAY, 19th MAY 2022
I woke up early today, with the beautiful morning light streaming through my window.  I’m already fantasising about buying one of the rundown cottages in the village and moving here when David and I retire. 

The big news today is that I found a tick in the crook of my knee, leisurely sucking away at my life force.  I was sitting down chatting with Marcie and just happened to touch my leg, feeling a protrusion behind my knee.  I thought it might be a zit or something and tried to scratch it away, but it wasn’t budging.  I looked down and saw a horrible, chunky brown thing sticking out of my skin, like something growing out of me.  Being a country girl, Marcie knew exactly what was up.  “It’s a tick,” she said, matter-of-factly.  And so it was.  I freaked out and ran upstairs trying to keep cool.  This was my first tick situation, and being Australian I can’t help but assume that all animals wish to do me harm, especially the ones that attach themselves to my body by burrowing their heads into my skin.  Beulah popped her head out to see what all the screaming was about and jumped into action as soon as I told her I had a tick.  She just squeezed that little fucker out, right then and there.  She’s my goddamn hero. 

After the excitement, Marcie and I spent some more time together, just chatting, checking out her latest installation down by the swimming hole, and then moving another of her pieces to the stables to photograph it in some beautiful light against a shabby chic background.  It turned out absolutely perfect.  I then interviewed her in her studio.  I could sense that she was a little bit nervous during the interview, but I think (hope) that I was able to put her at ease.  As always, it was really lovely to spend time with her.  She’s so easygoing and self-possessed, and I really enjoy being around her a lot.  I have a feeling that we’ll be friends long after this is over.

Standby for Part Two of my Chateau Orquevaux adventure.

Who’s that girl?

Header photo © Andrew Putschoegl

Ejo #158 – The Extraordinary People I Know: Melinda Norris (aka My Gratitude Partner)

Good Life, health, Interviews, Learning About Me, The Extraordinary People I Know, wellness, , , , , One comment

Last month I wrote about the gratitude practise that I have shared with my beautiful friend, Dr. Melinda Norris, for over eight years.  This month the two of us sat down (virtually speaking) and had a chat about our project, its benefits, and how easy it is to incorporate an everyday gratitude practice into your own life.  Please give a very warm welcome to my close friend, and longtime gratitude partner, Mel. 

I’m still basking in the afterglow of the wonderful day we spent together when David and I were in Australia last month. After dinner at your place, I noticed a copy of your thesis for your doctorate in Psychology being used (egad!!) as a keyboard stand.  And I was absolutely blown away by it.  It’s such an impressive work.  Can you tell us a little bit about it?
Of course. My thesis was an applied PhD as part of a longitudinal project with Victoria Police.  I followed 7,000 staff over three years with a focus on wellbeing.  My research particularly looked at how people cope effectively with the daily hassles and stresses in work and life.  Which strategies are most effective?  How stable is our behaviour over time?  And, how much can be predicted by our personality, versus learnt by life lessons.  It highlighted the value of humour and seeking emotional, and practical, support as three highly effective coping strategies.  It also showed that a lot of our stable patterns of behaviour are just as much, if not more, learned rather than purely a product of our personality.  Which is great, as it means we can learn new ways, and improve how we cope with the challenges that life throws at us!  

Mel’s opus

This might be an obnoxious question, but do you ever take inspiration from our gratitude practise and incorporate it back into your work as an organisational psychologist? 
It’s really rewarding to tap into my passion, research and personal experiences to help others.  So I do take inspiration from our gratitude practice all the time, and build it into work, formally and informally.  For example, I try to explicitly express my gratitude for any support and collaboration with leaders and team members.  This builds relationships and trust quickly, leading to more effective collaboration as a result.  It also helps me to appreciate the small things every day, and to get through setbacks better.  I notice I don’t get stuck in a negative mindset anymore.  I can bounce back quicker, and find a more optimistic outlook. 

Trust me, I’m a doctor.

I think I got really lucky that you asked me to be your gratitude partner. You’re someone who’s made the wellbeing of others their life’s work, and I don’t think it gets any better than that! Do you remember how our gratitude challenge started all those years ago? 
Yes, I clearly remember how it started.  I was reading your Freedom ejo in our kitchen and getting really engrossed in your story.  I got the clear sense that you were committed to staying in Dubai for a variety of good reasons (career, travel opportunities etc.), but that you missed Australia desperately (your friends, family, the environment and climate).  And I got the sense you were struggling with the downsides of your day-to-day life.

I still miss my friends so much.

I could relate.  I too was struggling to feel the joy in my daily life, but for different reasons.  I was working in a high pressure, deadline-driven job with a lot of responsibilities.  Working four days a week, but squeezing what felt like at least five days of work into those days.  I was also a parent to two gorgeous young boys, and I wanted to be more a part of their lives.  I felt so much guilt and sadness, having to utilise before, and after, school care.  I found a solution with a nanny for a few years.  Kim picked the boys up from school, helped them with homework, and prepared dinner three days a week.  Still, I felt incredibly torn.  I wasn’t succeeding in all my roles in life like I wanted to.  And that was just the two most consuming roles.  I also wanted to be a better wife, a better friend, and a better sister.  There just weren’t enough hours in the day, the week, the year!  I was efficient like a ninja, making every minute count.  Doing so much work on my daily commute, so that I could drop everything when I got home and be fully present.  But I still couldn’t help feeling torn between my career and my family. 

I’d been trying different strategies to enhance my wellbeing and help make my life more enjoyable, and less stressful.  As a psychologist, I knew of the power and benefits of practising daily gratitude, empathy and mindfulness.  I tried writing a gratitude journal, but found it tough to stick with, so that strategy didn’t work well for me.  Something was missing.  A key ingredient.

As I read your ejo that day Chryss, I was inspired by the idea of a gratitude partner.  Adding a social component to any wellbeing strategy has an amplifying effect on the benefits.  Just like exercising with a fitness partner; you enjoy it more, you keep up the habit, and therefore you experience the full potential benefits on your wellbeing.  I was so delighted with the idea and thought that you would be the perfect gratitude partner for me.  You seemed like you’d be open to it, like you needed it too; and we were good friends.  Friends that had lost touch a bit over the years, but you were a friend I could trust, and be open with.  A friend I wanted to stay close to, but found that hard with the tyranny of distance. 

So I wrote to you then and there in my kitchen, letting you know that I’d read your ejo, and that I could relate; that I thought we’d both benefit from sharing the things we were grateful for with each other at the end of every day.  I suggested that we keep it simple.  I didn’t want it to feel hard, or like a burden for either of us.  I hoped it would help me to stick to my commitment and form a new habit.  But more importantly, I hoped that you would reciprocate, and also experience the benefits of practising daily gratitude.  What eventuated was much more than I’d ever really hoped for!  It certainly proved that my idea of adding the ingredients of social connection and reciprocation was incredibly beneficial. 

After the success of our first year of gratitude, we both decided that we wanted to keep it going.  What is it about our gratitude project that’s kept you wanting to continue, year after year? 
I’ve found it so helpful to have you as my gratitude partner.  It has definitely been the key ingredient that’s contributed to the desire to keep at it, and to continue the routine.  For me, it makes it so much more than just searching for, and noticing, all the good things that happen each day.  It makes it interesting and rewarding. And it’s the reciprocal nature of the relationship that makes it really special.  Having you, Chryss, as my gratitude partner, was a winning selection!  You care as much about it as I do, so we are well matched in our commitment to the habit.  You’re also a friend whose opinion I value, and a friend who I want to stay close to.  One precious outcome was that our old friendship was rekindled and deepened.  Actually, I don’t communicate this regularly with anyone else!  So the relationship provides me with a strong social connection, and frequent deep exchanges that I really enjoy, and need, to experience my best life.  

Another surprising benefit for me has been that I’ve felt heard, understood and even supported through some incredibly difficult times by our relationship and regular contact.  We agreed not to communicate negative things, or use it as a place to complain.  We didn’t want that to creep in.  We’ve both been very good at keeping that promise, demonstrating discipline and sticking to our commitment.  And I believe that has maximised our experience, and the benefits.  We keep each other going, encouraging each other and reinforcing the practice.  There are days, here and there, when we don’t communicate, but we always catch up.  These pauses tend to happen when we are on holidays, or deeply engrossed in a busy and challenging time.  Which is when it matters the most to keep at it.  The other partner keeps sharing and asking questions to nudge and help the other person along, but without guilt or judgement.  It has always felt supportive and uncomplicated.  Never a burden or a hassle.  Just a reminder that this helps, and that there is someone who cares and notices, in loving kindness.

It has also cultivated empathy.  You share in the other person’s triumphs and challenges. You realise that everyone has small and big struggles in their lives, regardless of how “successful” or “happy” they seem on the surface. You live through that with the other person.  Another thing Chryss, is that you always have a way of asking me very insightful questions or making thoughtful comments that trigger self-reflection, or just help me feel really understood and supported. 

Thanks Mel, I feel exactly the same way.  I always love getting your feedback, or a question probing more deeply into something I’ve shared with you.  And I think that’s another facet of our routine that has contributed to us becoming closer.  It’s never just a list of things.  It’s a real conversation. 

So, you and I have both experienced some pretty big emotional challenges over the last eight years.  Can you talk about how our gratitude practise may have helped you get through some dark times?
Our partnership started just fourteen days before Cara, one of my closest and most treasured friends, was diagnosed suddenly with terminal breast cancer.  It came out of nowhere, and at a stage that ruled out the hope for remission.  The only options were lots of treatments to prolong and preserve her life.  It was devastating news; news she only shared with me and one other close friend for a long time.  During that period I had a demanding job that required a huge amount of my energy and brain power.  And I was a mum to two beautiful primary school aged boys that needed me too.  Around the same time, my oldest son was suddenly, and frequently, hospitalised with recurring post viral myo-pericarditis.  Essentially, his heart, and the lining of his heart, became inflamed every time he became unwell with a cold or flu.  So as you can imagine, my life at that time, and for the next five years, required a lot of emotional energy each day.  It made practising daily mindfulness, gratitude and empathy critical for my own wellbeing.  Critical for sustaining myself during significant upheaval.  I think this helped establish a strong habit early on in our partnership.  I really needed it!  It got me through five incredibly hard years, and the death of a dear friend.  I coped well with this, and felt resilient, even greatly in touch with the meaning of life.  Trivial upsets, I could see clearly as being just that!

Three months before Melinda’s friend, Cara, passed away, she and some friends took a very special trip to Uluru.

Over the years, things have improved and I’ve not had so many huge challenges in front of me.  Or maybe I have, but my perspective has changed me forever!  Actually, when I reflect on this now I can see that there have been huge challenges – a global pandemic, my son having surgery on his heart in between lockdowns, and my nephew being diagnosed with leukaemia.  Mostly, I’ve come to realise that it’s like going to the gym each day to stay fit.  It’s only a habit if you keep it up; it only has the desired impact if you keep the recipe consistent.  You can’t expect to stay fit, if you don’t work out regularly!  Practising gratitude daily is the same.  It only works well if you form a rewarding habit that keeps you coming back for more!

Do you have any suggestions for people wanting to start their own gratitude project with a friend?
Find someone you feel you can share this experience with.  Someone who matches your commitment, and also desires the same outcomes.  Someone you care about and are motivated to help.  Most importantly someone you can be honest with, that won’t judge you, but simply offer support and encouragement.

Develop and agree to your own guiding principles for how you share.  Maybe you love writing in a journal each night.  You could simply photograph the page, and send the photo to your friend.  Maybe you send an email, or start a chat in Signal or WhatsApp.  You can make this your own.  But whatever you do, I’d recommend making it easy to do each day for you and your partner.

The only core element that I’d say must be included is finding and communicating at least three things each day that you were grateful for, no matter how small.  The secret is in noticing and being grateful for all the little things each day that we often take for granted.  If we only notice the big positive things in life there can be a long time between drinks!

In last month’s ejo I offered to be a gratitude partner to whoever was interested in trying it out for themselves.  A lot of people told me that they enjoyed the ejo and that they loved the idea, but so far no one has taken me up on my offer.  Why do you think that might be?  
Perhaps they need time for the idea to take hold.  I think you have to be ready for it, and really want it.  You and I had already been working up to it, so our desire and readiness was matched.  Snap!  Perfect timing; perfect partner.  I wonder if people also see that you already have partners in me and your sister, so they don’t want to add to that.  Perhaps they’d rather find their own special partner?

Fair enough.  I do hope that more people give it a shot.  But if the idea of doing a gratitude sharing project like ours feels too daunting, what is one piece of advice you can give to people right now to find more gratitude in their lives?
Even the act of thinking about what you are grateful for is beneficial!  So I would try to notice gratitude in the moment, to be mindful of it.  Most importantly, to express it then and there if another person is involved.  Express your gratitude to others explicitly in the moment, when you feel it.  They’ll appreciate it and you’ll feel better for it.  Be specific about what you’re grateful for, and why.  What’s the impact on you?  A simple wave when someone lets you in, while driving.  A clear thank you to your partner for making dinner.  Thanking your colleague for offering to buy you a coffee. It’s not that hard but it makes your day, and the day of others, so much better. 

I know you’re a super busy working woman and mother Mel, so I really appreciate you taking the time to have this awesome chat with me. I’ve really enjoyed taking a deep dive into our very special gratitude ritual, and I hope that by sharing it with the world we’ve been able to inspire others to look for, and express, more gratitude in their day-to-day lives.  And finally, at the risk of sounding terribly corny, I’d like to express how very grateful I am to you for being there with me, every day during the last eight years. And how grateful I am that I can count on you being there with me again tomorrow.

I’m grateful every time I see Mel’s megawatt smile!!!

Ejo #157 – Gratitude

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Today, I was grateful to get up early, watch the sun rise and put the finishing touches on this ejo.  Yesterday, I was grateful to be able to give my friend a hug after learning that his mum had died the night before.  And on Sunday, I was grateful to spend the day picnicking with my sisters, aunt and cousins in Cape Schanck.  I am a gratitude queen, able to find things to be grateful for, even in the most difficult of circumstances.  Damn, I could represent Australia at the Gratitude Olympics.  I am that good.  But how did I get there?  How did my gratitude muscle get that strong?  Just as an elite athlete needs a team, a coach, and a training partner to improve their physical performance, I too have a training partner. A gratitude partner.  Someone who has committed to the challenge of sharing gratitudes with me.  Every. Single. Day. No. Matter. What.

I’ve known my friend Melinda for about 28 or 29 years (shut up, you’re old!).  We even lived together for a while in the mid 1990s with our friend Svetlana.  But after we all moved out and went our separate ways, Melinda and I didn’t stay super close.  Like most of my friendships after I moved to Dubai, we’d exchange an email every now and again, and we’d catch up at the big parties that David and I throw whenever we visit Melbourne.  And that was OK. It was enough.  

But that all changed eight years ago today, when Mel and I started a challenge to email each other one gratitude a day for a whole year.  We both happened to be going through a rough patch at the time, struggling to find positivity in our day to day lives.  Melinda was feeling overwhelmed as a working mum to two young boys, trying to balance work and family commitments.  And I was missing my friends and family in Australia.  I yearned for the easygoing way of life back home, and wasn’t enjoying living in Dubai at all.  Everything about the city was getting on my nerves, and bringing me down.  And I wasn’t afraid to write about it.  In fact, some of you might remember that I used to write a very acerbic ejo series called Things I Hate About Dubai, in which I unabashedly bashed the shit out of the city, on the regular.  I used to really enjoy doing that, but in January 2015 I decided to decommission that series when a reader of mine called Flo wrote to me to express dismay at my attitude.  

Flo scolded me, “I am so disappointed by your latest post, and this will be the last one I read from you, as we do not share the same vision of expatriation.  Indeed I am very disappointed by the way you think.  I experience this every day in France where I keep hearing people say they don’t like anything (or anyone) about it, and it just pisses me off.  This is so disrespectful.  You may not understand, and you might even be angry at me, telling me not to come back to your ejo if I don’t like it.  But I just need to express myself!”

For my January 2015 ejo, which was titled Freedom, I responded to Flo, and defended my right to express dissatisfaction with certain aspects of life in Dubai.  But secretly, Flo’s words had pierced my heart like an arrow.  I had imagined that I was coming across as mischievous and spicy, but what was happening when I allowed myself to wallow in my negativity was that I just came across as… well, negative.  And I didn’t want to be negative.  I’d spent too much time and money on therapy to allow myself to slide back into old thought patterns and behaviours.  So while I publicly justified my opinions, I privately resolved to not write a single bad word about Dubai for a whole year.  For my own mental health and wellbeing.  I wanted to change.  I wanted to do better.

While I was making an effort to be more positive by not slinging shit at Dubai, Mel was doing something even more proactive and constructive to bring more joy into her life.  You all remember the #100happydays challenge, right?  Post a photo a day of something that makes you happy.  For one hundred days.  It was a lovely idea, encouraging participants to focus on all the positive things in their lives.  The challenge went viral, generating over 30 million happy moment posts on Facebook.  I probably should have taken part in the challenge, but I remember just not feeling it.  It seemed a little forced and superficial to me, which is probably an indication of where my head was at.  Melinda did take part in the challenge, and she got a lot out of it.  But once she’d finished the hundred days, she was left with a feeling of “now what?”  It occurred to her that a longer term commitment to a daily practise of positivity would be more beneficial than a flash-in-the-pan, social media challenge.  Something she could share privately with a trusted friend, rather than posting online.  Being a Doctor of Psychology, Mel knew that the idea was a good one, but she was unsure of how to implement it in a practical way. 

And then she read my Freedom ejo.  And she had a lightbulb moment.  She wrote to me, “My unrequested thoughts/suggestion for you to do with as you wish.  For improving your ongoing wellbeing in the place you reside, I think there is much to gain in training your mind to see and appreciate even the smallest positives around you each and every day.  Even in the country I love I’ve found myself in the mental habit of critiquing every experience and overlooking so many positives.  The 100 happy days challenge helped to shift my mindset, as I was struggling to focus on the upside of everyday life.  It definitely helped to be publicly forced to find something, anything, each and every day.  I often consider doing 365 happy days!  Instead I’ve decided to do “gratefuls” this year.  Here’s what I’d like to propose.  I will send my grateful to you each day.  Don’t feel you have to respond in detail, or at all.  If you’d like to share your gratitude in return, well, that would be an amazing honour.”

Of course I said yes.  And the rest is history.  Along the way we negotiated some guidelines.  We’d exchange a gratitude, every day for a whole year.  We would make an effort to not repeat ourselves, so that we would always be on the lookout for new things to be grateful for.  And our gratitude emails would be a no-complaint zone.  The goal of the project was to be totally focussed on things that we were grateful for, and not an opportunity to whinge about life.  We both understood that the intention of this wasn’t to paint an unnaturally rosy picture of our days, but rather to acknowledge that despite the inevitability of things not always going our way, we could still find something to be grateful for.  

Melinda and me in 2015, less than a month after starting our gratitude challenge.

I remember how delighted I was after just the first few days of exchanging gratitudes.  From the very beginning it felt like a really positive and optimistic ritual, and I really enjoyed reconnecting with Melinda, and reigniting our friendship, getting to know each other all over again.  Getting to know each other even better than before.  

But devastatingly, only fourteen days into our challenge, Mel’s mettle was sorely tested when she received some terrible news about her close friend Cara.  She wrote to me, “Today I’m struggling to be grateful as I learned some very sad news that one of my closest friends has cancer that has metastasised to her bones.  So I guess I’m grateful for my health, and that she feels supported by me.”

Over the next five years, our daily gratitude practise helped Melinda deal with the burden of initially having to keep her friend’s diagnosis a secret, of being there when Cara needed her, and of knowing when to step back when she needed space.  Melinda was there when her close friend battled chemotherapy and radiation therapy, and she supported her when she became sicker after taking part in an experimental trial.  She held hope for her friend, even when things were hopeless.  She honoured Cara’s final wishes, and at the end she said goodbye, long before she was ready to let go.  Mel tells me that our daily gratitude practise got her through the hardest five years of her life.  And I am beyond grateful that I was able to be there for her, in that way.

Today marks the 2922nd day that Melinda and I have exchanged daily gratitudes.  What started as a one year challenge, blossomed into something that I can’t even imagine my life without, and the two of us have been at it for eight, glorious, years.  Along the way we’ve both become more positive and more resilient.  We’ve both learned to laugh in the face of adversity, and we’ve developed the ability to find acceptance and peace when things don’t go our way.  For instance, on Thursday, 19th January 2017 I had a skiing accident on the slopes of Nagano, Japan tearing the ACL in my good knee.  My email to Mel that day read, “Today I was grateful beyond belief to everyone that helped me when I crashed on the mountain and hurt my knee.  David, who came running down to check on me and then carried BOTH our pairs of skis back up a very steep slope.  The ski instructor who noticed I wasn’t well and called the ski patrol.  The ski patrol people who skied me off the mountain on a special stretcher.  The hotel who sent someone in a car to pick us up so we didn’t need to catch the bus, and then drove us to the doctor.  The clinic where they looked at me straight away and were so kind.  The lady at the hotel who was SO concerned for me and let me lean on her as I limped to the elevator – later on, at dinner, she made me a beautiful origami crane and told me she hopes I feel better soon.  It’s been heart-warming to the max.”  

I know that in the past I would have let that accident wreck my day, my holiday and even the next few months of my life, as I hobbled around in pain.  I know that I would have wallowed in self-pity and misery.  And the reason I know it is because that’s exactly what happened in 1995 when I tore the ACL ligament in my other leg in another skiing accident (no, I’m not a very good skier).  But my gratitude practise gave me the ability to rise above it this time, and to deal with it positively.  It allowed me to see that my injury didn’t have to define me, and that despite it being a bit of a bummer, there were so many other, wonderful things to focus on.  I was getting really good at this gratitude thing.  

And then my Mum died. And somehow, I was still able to find a number of things to be grateful for, even on the worst day of my life. On the 26th March 2019, I wrote to Melinda, “I feel tremendous gratitude to my Mum for all her unconditional love my whole life.  I am grateful that she and I texted yesterday, and that we got to see her recently on our trip back home.  I am grateful to David for being so supportive and caring and loving and gentle.  And for buying us both tickets back home.  I’m an absolute mess right now but really grateful that even during something as devastating as this I can still find things to be grateful for.”

When you can look around you and see things to be grateful for, when everything else in your life is falling apart, you’ve reached a higher state.  You rise above.  You transcend.  And that is a super power.  Daily gratitude has given me fortitude.  No matter what happens, everything is OK.  It’s always OK.  

Melinda’s not the only person I exchange daily gratitudes with.  My sister Mary and I also do it, via text.  We started about four and a half years ago when we both took part in Zimmy’s Happiness Project, a three month course designed to rewire our thoughts and actions, creating new habits scientifically geared towards increasing our happiness.  A major pillar of that course focussed on gratitude, and one of the tasks was to share five daily gratitudes with a partner.  I was already really adept at finding gratitude in my day to day life with Melinda, but Zimmy’s project required a little more.  Not only did it call for five gratitudes a day, it also required them to be shared with someone in person (or via video).  I was really grateful that my sister was doing the project with me, and that she accepted my invitation to be video gratitude partners.  It was still a task that took me slightly out of my comfort zone, but doing it with a family member, someone I loved and trusted, made it a lot easier.  During the three month project, Mary and I exchanged videos every single day, talking about all the things we were grateful for, which was a beautiful way to feel more involved in my sister’s life, something which I’d always felt I was missing out on, living so far away from her.  It was a wonderful and easy way to get to know her better.  It deepened our relationship and helped us create a more enduring bond.  

I feel the same deep bond with Melinda.  She shares her intimate life with me.  I know when she’s had a great Pilates session, when her husband cooks a yummy dinner, when her teenage sons help around the house, and when she’s had a good night’s sleep.  And I share parts of my life that no-one else in the world, apart from my husband, knows.  Melinda knows when I’m happy.  She knows when I’ve had a good day at work.  When I’ve had a relaxing bath.  When I’ve had an earth shattering orgasm.  When I’ve found what I’m looking for at the supermarket, or when my favourite colleague is rostered to work with me.  Melinda knows when I’ve had an interesting dream, and when I’ve been upgraded to business class on a flight.  She knows when I’ve had a satisfying shit.  When I’ve been paid, and when I’ve been able to bring one of my houseplants back to life with a little extra TLC.  She knows when I’ve found a spare lip balm in my car and when I’ve discovered a really cool new TV show.  She knows when I have fresh towels, and when I sleep on fresh, clean sheets.  She knows when there’s soft toilet paper at work, and when someone’s recommended a great new podcast.  Melinda knows when I’ve had a breakthrough in one of my sessions with Zimmy, when the price of Bitcoin’s trending up and when the tower toilet, which is prone to blocking, is flushing again.  And she knows all the wonderful, thoughtful, kind, generous things David does for me every single day. She knows everything about my life, and being able to share that all with her is a beautiful gift for which I am very grateful.  

Melinda and me a couple of days ago. Gratitude partners for life!

In 2015, when Melinda and I first committed to our daily gratitude challenge, it was a challenge.  Sometimes it was hard to find something to be grateful for.  Sometimes I really struggled.  And sometimes it just felt impossible.  But we stuck it out, and we got better.  We got really fucking good at it.  I really do feel that if more people practiced daily gratitude, the world would be a much better place.  My life is undoubtedly better for it, and I want to be able to pay that forward.  If sharing a daily gratitude with a friend sounds like something you’d like to try, then I’m your girl, so hit me up and let’s do this. It might be hard at first, but if you stick to it, it’ll get easier.  I promise.