Jade Rose Leopoldo in Paris
I have a quote book. Just one of those beautiful recycled notebooks that you receive as gift and are too scared to use for your everyday scribblings. Instead I made a conscious decision at the beginning of the year to only write in it all those meaningful and funny quotes that I often come across when reading books, perusing through magazines and yes, even searching the Internet (if you haven’t yet discovered the joys of googling old movie star quotes then I suggest you do, they are perhaps even more ‘honest and refreshing’ than your average reality show).
Funnily enough, much like most things I always start and more often than not never finish, it is only three pages deep. The first page is littered with a handful of quotes all of which are beautifully scripted in some of my finest cursive writing with every t crossed and every i perfectly dotted. Turn the page and the neatly formed cursive writing appears to have fallen victim to a few too many red wines, as it leans on an almost incomprehensible slant. By the third page, my words have been printed, clearly a lack of time and care has besieged the nice sentiment that this book began with.
As I looked back on my abandoned notebook over the weekend I began to realise that it actually held the answer to a question that had been bothering me for days – what had I learnt in 2011?
Earlier in the week I had received an email from Onya’s editor Sandi Sieger asking me to submit a piece on something that I may have learnt in 2011 or a significant experience shared. So whilst I caught the train to work, went for a jog around Albert Park Lake and did my weekly supermarket shop I searched for the answer. Had I learnt that no matter how hard I tried it would always be my fate to miss my morning train? Had I learnt that I could run the entire length of Albert Park Lake if I stopped whining long enough to actually do it? Or had I simply just learnt that yes, I can cook.
Each of these ideas seemed to appear more pathetic than the next and I had to laugh at my inability to conjure up something meaningful to share with you all, something that I was hoping you could take away and apply to your own lives, knowing that I had achieved it myself. Then as luck would have it, my quote book came to my attention and as I glanced at the first page, I came across these words, “Don’t let fear ruin your choices”.
When I looked down to see where I had retracted these powerful words from I had to laugh. Devon Aoki? Really? Devon Aoki the stunning American/Japanese model, actress and heiress to a billion dollar restaurant chain fortune? It would appear that I had stumbled upon Aoki’s thoughtful musings in an earlier edition of Russh Magazine. Perhaps not the kind of iconic figure you often find yourself looking to for guidance, however whether she had conjured up these wise worlds herself or retracted them from someone else it suddenly occurred to me that this quote summed up a great deal of what I had learnt throughout the year.
Ashamed as I am to admit it, I often let fear ruin my choices. My fear often stems from a fear of embarrassing myself, a fear that I am not good enough, a fear of what others think and perhaps more so poignant a fear of the unknown. In order to appease the fear I have often replaced it with comfort, and by comfort I mean not doing what I necessarily set out to do. Because if you don’t have fear then you’re comfortable and isn’t comfortable more pleasing?
Ironically, as I began to reflect on the year gone by I noticed that all those significantly great events, moments and happenings had all occurred when I had taken a chance, when I hadn’t let fear guide my decisions. In fact when I surpassed the fear, I excelled. I excelled in the work place, I excelled in through my writing (which funnily enough found me venturing overseas for an internship) and I excelled in being able to turn a 5 minute run into 5km’s. Sometimes, however, it was the small things that really mattered, like bringing some lifeless plants back from the brink of death and excitedly watching the foliage turn from a lifeless brown to a vibrant green.
As I write this I can hear my friends laughing, because trust me I am the last person they would believe to have acquired a green thumb let alone be interested in the best ways to maintain a golden palm. But as of today, two weeks short of the New Year, I have decided to not let fear ruin my choices (and as such I am exposing myself to my friends as a green-thumbed enthusiast, with aspirations in maintaining a herb garden).
So it is with a slight fear that I am making New Years resolutions that I may not be able keep, but I am going to do it anyway – I plan on finishing everything I start, I plan on growing a herb garden and I plan on adding at least ten more quotes to my notebook before the year 2012 is out.
And what if I fail? Who really cares…
