Déjà Vu Is Getting Expensive.

Last night six women from six decades stood up and told stories about the older women who shaped them.

The format was thoughtful. The decades spoke to one another. The diversity on stage reflected the diversity in the room. The stories were strong. Entertaining. Moving. Generous. The audience listened.

We have become very good at this.

Across the country there are TEDx talks, Ignite nights, storytelling salons, leadership breakfasts, panels, keynotes, lightning talks, lived-experience spotlights. Five to ten minutes. A tight narrative arc. A personal story. A moment of recognition. Applause.

We have perfected the short-form epiphany.

 A well-told story shifts something inside a room. It connects strangers. It honours experience. It reminds people they are part of something larger.

Last night did all of that.

YES a well-told story can move a room. The question is whether it moves anything beyond it.

That was the question that followed me out the door – where does this go?

We have become fluent in describing the problem. We gather and name what is broken. We articulate the gaps. We platform lived experience. We elevate voice.

Then everyone disperses.

Across the country there are organisations devoted to women’s leadership, mentoring, storytelling, social change. Capable people run them. They apply to the same limited funding pools. They build parallel programs. They host adjacent conversations.

What I see far less often is a serious mapping of who is already doing what. A decision to strengthen an existing framework rather than create another one alongside it. A willingness to consolidate instead of duplicate.

Do we really think we are the first to recognise this pattern? Do we imagine history disguises its repetitions so completely that each generation encounters them as new?

I spend my time recording the lives of women in their eighties and nineties. They recognise repetition quickly. They have watched enthusiasm surge and fade. They have seen institutions splinter and reassemble. They have lived through periods when cooperation was survival. They spent decades holding families and communities together.

They want to see something built that gives them confidence their lived experience is valued

The operating system is what determines whether insight moves anywhere.

Here is what that operating system looks like.

Governance — who is accountable to whom, and for what.
Coordination — who is already doing this work, and how efforts align.
Funding architecture — whether we are duplicating grant applications instead of pooling bids.
Infrastructure — shared platforms, shared administration, shared databases, shared back-end support.
Decision pathways — how stories influence policy, practice, or program design.
Succession and continuity — what lasts beyond one charismatic founder or one funding cycle.

If intergenerational storytelling is to carry weight beyond an evening, it has to shape how we build, how we fund, how we collaborate.

Otherwise we are collecting wisdom and leaving it where we found it.

The gap is turning insight into action.

When Algebra Met Instagram: My Complicated Relationship With Algorithms


Back in school, “algorithm” was the word that stood between me and my dream of Arts/Law. Now it’s the invisible force deciding what appears in my social-media feed. Turns out the maths I once feared has followed me — with a sense of humour.

If you’d told me back in high school maths that one day I’d be voluntarily talking about algorithms, I’d have laughed (or possibly cried).

Back then, “algorithm” meant a set of steps you had to memorise, the difference between passing and finding a whole new life plan. Mathematics was never my forte, and the thought of tripping over a missing x was enough to keep me up at night. It was the subject that would decide whether I made it into Arts/Law or had to find something else to do.

And in the end, I’m rather grateful to say mathematics did, in fact, let me down.

Because that “something else” turned out to be storytelling,  and there’s far more humanity in that than in any quadratic equation. Still, I can’t help noticing that those same mysterious “sets of steps” I once dreaded have followed me all the way into adulthood, disguised in a new form: social-media algorithms.

These modern descendants of my old nemesis no longer live in textbooks. They live in my phone, deciding whether I see my besties’ social life, someone else’s new litter of border collies, a wombat rescue video, or an ad for something I swear I only thought about but never searched.

They’ve taken the old maths problem – find x – and replaced it with find Lynne.

Somewhere inside that invisible equation it probably reads:

Engagement = (Time × Emotion × Ads Seen) ÷ Willpower

And it’s definitely winning.

But I’ve decided not to resent the algorithm. It’s not evil, it’s obedient.
It’s simply doing what it was built to do: predict what keeps me scrolling.

The trick is to feed it wisely.
If I linger on outrage, it serves me outrage.
If I linger on kindness, it serves me more of that.

So perhaps I’ve finally found my kind of maths after all.
A simple human equation that even I can live by:

Joy = (Time spent offline × Actual friends) + (Laughter ÷ Comparisons)

It may not get me into Arts/Law, but it’s a pretty good formula for life.

#Algorithms #SocialMedia #MathsHumour #DigitalLife #Storytelling #AttentionEconomy #JoyEquation

Walking Through History: How Our Gait Tells the Story of Where We’ve Come From

I have always noticed the way people walk. Maybe it is because I was born with club feet. My parents were relieved when, after twelve months in plaster, the specialists announced my legs were fixed and I could walk straight.

Growing up on a farm, you were taught to look closely at legs. When Dad was buying horses or cattle, he studied the way they stood and moved. Sound legs meant sound stock. He would point out faults as people walked by. “Lady-toed,” ( the medical term is “Out-toeing) he would say, or “bow-legged.” It was never said unkindly. It was a way of teaching me what to look for, and I think a quiet reminder of how lucky we were that medicine could fix mine.

Now, travelling in Europe, I have noticed something curious. So many people seem to be lady-toed or bow-legged, far more than I ever see in Australia. It made me wonder why.

The Science Behind the Way We Walk

How we walk, our gait, is shaped by a mix of biology, lifestyle, and environment. Orthopaedic specialists and physiologists agree that posture and leg alignment are not random. They reflect the forces our bones and muscles have adapted to since childhood.

Genetics and early development
Our bone structure is partly inherited. Some families naturally have a degree of varus (bow-legged) or valgus (knock-kneed) alignment. In babies and toddlers, these angles are normal stages of growth. Legs usually straighten by around age seven. If nutrition or muscle development is interrupted, those angles can persist into adulthood.

Vitamin D and bone health
Historically, bow-legs were common in northern Europe because of rickets, a condition caused by lack of sunlight and therefore vitamin D. Without enough vitamin D, bones do not harden properly and bend under the body’s weight. Australia’s abundant sunshine almost eliminated rickets early in the 20th century, whereas in cloudier climates it lingered longer, possibly contributing to more curved leg alignment in older generations.

Footwear and walking surfaces
Podiatrists point out that shoes influence how we use our feet. In cities with cobblestones or uneven streets, people walk differently: shorter steps, feet turned slightly outward for balance, what farmers once called being lady-toed, or what doctors now call out-toeing. In Australia, soft surfaces like grass and sand encourage a longer, straighter stride and stronger foot muscles.

Exercise and body mechanics
Regular movement, especially barefoot play and outdoor activity in childhood, strengthens the small stabilising muscles in the feet and lower legs. Where children spend more time indoors, sitting, or wearing rigid shoes, those muscles can remain weaker, subtly changing gait and posture over time.

Cultural posture habits
Anthropologists note that regional postures, such as how people sit, rest, or carry weight, also shape leg alignment. Years of cycling, hill walking, or sitting cross-legged can influence muscle balance around the knees and hips.

The lady-toed, pigeon-toed  or bow-legged look is not simply genetic. It is a visible record of how our bones, muscles, shoes, sunlight, and habits have worked together since childhood. The way we walk, quite literally, tells the story of where we have come from.

And for me, each step is a quiet reminder of how fortunate I am to have been straightened out, to walk without pain, and to keep walking all these years.

#WalkingThroughHistory #GaitScience #EveryStepTellsAStory #HumanMovement #ObservationAndMemory

What If We All Learned to Have Better Conversations About Mental Fitness?

Last week I attended the TEAM Walker Mental Fitness workshop with HSE Global and The Man Walk. It was an extraordinary day. It was  practical, thought-provoking, and full of ideas I know I will use.

The strongest takeaway for me was the TEAM process. It is simple, memorable, and effective  and I believe it’s something worth sharing as widely as possible. Imagine if more people had the chance to learn it, whether through workplace training or in schools once students are old enough to understand it.

Mental Health Is Something We All Have

We all have mental health, and where we sit on the mental fitness continuum shifts over time. At the green end, we are thriving. We are connected, engaged, and looking after ourselves. At the red end, symptoms are intense, persistent, and affecting daily life.

The earlier we notice changes in ourselves or others, the easier it is to respond in a caring way. That is where TEAM can help.

What to Look For

Before we can use TEAM, it helps to notice when someone might welcome a conversation.

Signs can include changes in:

  • Thinking — more negative self-talk, overthinking, feeling like a burden
  • Behaviour — withdrawing, cancelling plans, neglecting self-care, overcompensating
  • Feelings — feeling overwhelmed, numb, anxious, or losing interest in things they enjoy

These changes can be subtle, especially in people we see regularly, but they are often the gentle prompt we need to check in.

The TEAM Process

TEAM offers a simple guide for connecting in a way that feels supportive and respectful:

  • T – Time to Talk: Create the moment. Remove distractions, show the other person they have your full attention, and let them set the pace.
  • E – Empathy: Listen to understand, not to reply. Be present without making the conversation about you.
  • A – Ask and Educate: Ask how they are really going. Offer information or resources in a way that feels helpful, not overwhelming.
  • M – Mobilise Support: Offer to walk alongside them as they connect with other people or services who can help.

It is not complicated and it can make a difference.

Like any skill, it becomes more natural with practice, and many people find comfort in having a framework to guide these conversations.

Why It Matters

TEAM takes the uncertainty out of knowing how to start or sustain a conversation about mental fitness. It creates a shared, respectful way to connect, to show we have noticed, and to offer help that feels genuine.

If more people were given the chance to learn TEAM, in workplaces, community groups, and at school when the time is right, those moments of connection might happen more often, and earlier.

In a Crisis

Sometimes signs point to a more urgent situation, suicide, panic attacks, or trauma. In these moments, TEAM still applies, but “Mobilise Support” may happen straight away. You do not have to fix the situation alone, but you can be there, stay present, and help connect the person with professional support.

My Takeaway

The TEAM process is more than an acronym. It is a practical, compassionate way to notice, listen, ask, and support.

Everyone benefits from feeling confident in these conversations. Offering more people the opportunity to learn TEAM feels like a simple, positive step towards making those moments of connection a natural part of everyday life.

Because if we know anything from history,  whether it’s the slow erosion of our universities or the quiet disappearance of important stories, it’s that decline often happens unnoticed until it’s too late. The same is true for people. We can drift from the green end of the mental fitness continuum toward the red without anyone marking the turning points.

When you ask, you’re not just making conversation. You’re creating a record in the present moment, a way of saying: I see you, I’ve noticed, and I care enough to ask. And then your task is simple but not easy: stay curious, let them finish, and resist the urge to fill silences with solutions.

In the same way that knowing the past helps us “do the future better,” knowing where someone is at right now gives them the chance to change the next chapter. And just as societies forget their own stories at their peril, we can’t afford to forget to check in on the people beside us.

Sometimes the most important thing you can do is exactly what historians fight to do. Pay attention, ask questions, and hold space for the answers, even when they’re complicated.

Mark Burns Emma Boucher and Emily Turner

A big shout out to Mark Burns from The Man Walk. We all benefit from having people like Mark who recognise how important it is to upskill all of us to be more effective in supporting mental fitness — and who create opportunities like this workshop so we can learn and grow together.

And a huge thank you to Emma Boucher from HSE Global. Her facilitation skills are extraordinary, warm, engaging, and filled with practical insight that made every part of the session both valuable and memorable.

#MentalFitness #TEAMProcess #TheManWalk #HSEGlobal #MarkBurns #EmmaBoucher #WorkplaceWellbeing #CommunityWellbeing #MentalHealthConversations #Upskilling #Lifeskills #WellbeingTraining #SupportEachOther #ConnectionMatters #ListenAskSupport #WorkTalkSupport

 

Some conversations leave bruises even when no one raises their voice

This post is personal. Every now and then, I use my blog as a journal and I write something just for me. If something I’ve said lands with you and it helps, I’ll be grateful for that. If it does, please leave a comment.

I thought we were talking about land. History. Legacy. I thought we were having a conversation between two people who had both lived long enough to understand the weight of inheritance , and the ache of loss.

But somewhere between the conveyancing records and the development maps, something else entered the room. A quiet hierarchy. A tug-of-war over whose version mattered more. And every time I tried to bring in the human story , the people, the emotion, the cost,  I was redirected back to documents, dates, deeds. Like that was the only kind of truth that counted.

And then came the part that hurt in a way I wasn’t expecting.
He said he had to get back to his grandchildren. He said it more than once.
And he knows. He knows that my story is different. That there are wounds in my life that have never closed properly. That I don’t have grandmother duties to return to.

He didn’t say anything unkind. But sometimes, it’s the absence of care that stings the most.
Because what I needed in that moment wasn’t data.
It wasn’t validation.
It was recognition, that standing here, trying to honour the past and speak for the future, I am doing it alone. And I am doing it anyway.

And that counts for something. Even if he couldn’t say it.

What I’ve come to realise is that even conversations that hurt can be useful. Writing this helped me move through it, but shaping those moments into fiction has been even more rewarding. The experience gave rise to a new character in my novel, a solicitor named Lionel Greaves, who represents the quiet power of institutional knowledge, and the harm it can cause when wielded without care.

Lionel Greaves is a man of standing in the community, respected for his memory and precision, but not always for his empathy. He trades in certainty, not sentiment. To him, law is order, not fairness. He rarely intends harm, but often causes it through his refusal to see the emotional consequences of his words. He believes he is helpful. He doesn’t realise he is also dismissive. And in doing so, he becomes a quiet antagonist, not through malice, but through omission.

#EmotionalLabour #LegacyAndLoss #PersonalTruth #InvisibleGrief #FamilyDynamics #Estrangement #HumanDignity #SpeakingFromTheHeart #GriefIsReal #HoldingSpace #QuietStrength

The day the power came back on

You don’t appreciate something until it’s gone. Water. Power. Peace and quiet.

Last night, the wind didn’t politely rustle the trees, it came tearing through like it had a grudge. By the time it blew itself out, the power was gone, pot plants were on their side, and a grain auger had blown over on Jamberoo Mountain Road.

That’s not where I live, but it’s the road that connects Jamberoo to the Highlands, and when something blocks it, it matters. Especially when it happens at 4 o’clock in the morning. Our local RFS crews were out there in the dark, again, answering the call. I think there were nine callouts in our area alone. They don’t clock off. They don’t wait for daylight. They just get on with it.

Photo Credit Jamberoo RFS

Here at my place, the damage was minor. A few pot plants got knocked over. I went to stand them up and realised some had rooted into the ground,  poor things. They might not survive the shock. But if that’s the worst of it, I’m grateful.

I came from out west, where the weather has its own brutal personality but wind wasn’t really part of it. I lived on a farm there too, and I can’t remember the power going out once. But here on Saddleback Mountain, nestled in rainforest, the trees fall like bowling pins in high winds , and with them go the power lines.

Usually it’s our side of the mountain that loses power. This time, the whole village went down. No lights, no heating, no water, unless you’ve got a generator or a gravity-fed tank system like I used to. These days, I rely on a tank and a pump. And while the dairy up the road was whirring along thanks to its generator, I was standing in my kitchen staring at the tap and shaking my head.

I headed into town to buy some water, only to find the shop I’d planned on was closed. Of course, no power, no till, no open door. But then I ran into Warren at Kings Patisserie, who offered to let me bring down containers to fill with water. I would have, if I had anything other than a few jars.

Instead, I bought 24 bottles of water, which Warren sold to me at a very generous price. That’s the kind of neighbour you want in a blackout.

When the power came back on, I was bundled up on the couch like a retired snowman, debating whether to light a candle or eat another biscuit. I heard the fridge click. The TV  blinked. The lights came on, and I wandered around my house flipping switches like I’d never seen electricity before.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? How much we rely on the things we rarely think about. And how quickly we remember our luck when they return.

So here’s to the power crews. To the RFS out before dawn. To Warren and his water. To the neighbours with tractors who clear fallen trees.

And to the humble joy of a working espresso machine.

#SaddlebackMountain #Kiama #RFSheroes #OutageAftermath #WindyNight #GrainAugerDown #WarrenToTheRescue #KingsPatisserie #RuralRealities #PowerPerspective #CommunityKindness

Navigating Moral Uncoupling in Education and Society

This post is part of a series I’m doing on Moral Uncoupling, a topic that I often ruminate on: how we can flip the social norm by uncovering the magic sauce that drives meaningful change. Articulating the ethical equations behind decisions might risk oversimplifying complex matters, but the greater risk lies in forgetting these calculations altogether. By bringing these sacrifices to light, we can honestly assess the decisions being made and work toward a more ethically grounded society.

As adults, we must be the role models who walk the talk we teach in schools, embodying the values we want our children to carry forward. Our actions, more than our words, will shape the ethical landscape of the next generation.

This post has been inspired  by an article in the SMH “The price of a life? Don’t tell me, at all costs” by Sean Kelly, published on 12th August 2024,

Recent discussions, such as those highlighted in the Sydney Morning Herald article on the real cost of societal choices, underscore the concept of “moral uncoupling”—justifying harmful actions for perceived greater goods. Whether it’s speed limits set at the expense of lives, prioritising economic benefits over human lives, or media companies relying on gambling ads, these compromises raise ethical concerns.

The concept of moral compromise is evident in both societal decisions and the media’s practices. Speed limits are a clear example of how society often prioritises convenience over safety, leading to a normalization of harm. Politicians and media companies, like those relying on gambling ads, often justify harm by arguing it supports a greater good, such as journalism. This conflation of issues masks the ethical implications, raising important questions about how we quantify the value of life and the moral consequences of these decisions. Both society and policymakers must challenge these compromises and demand accountability for the sacrifices made.

In education, particularly within the High Potential and Gifted Education (HPGE) Policy, we see a push to integrate ethics into the curriculum. Yet, teachers are struggling to incorporate these principles effectively, as ethics hasn’t traditionally been part of their training.

The HPGE Policy promotes the development of intellectual, creative, social-emotional, and physical potential, with a significant focus on social-emotional learning—where ethical decision-making comes into play.

To bridge this gap, schools are increasingly involving parents to help teach these ethical principles, ensuring students are not only intellectually challenged but also morally grounded. By addressing the challenges of teaching ethics, we can better prepare students to resist the pressures of moral uncoupling and navigate a complex world with integrity.

As adults, we must be the role models who walk the talk we teach in schools, embodying the values we want our children to carry forward. Our actions, more than our words, will shape the ethical landscape of the next generation.

#MoralCompromise #MediaEthics #PublicInterestJournalism #GamblingAds #SocialImpact #Accountability #EthicsInSociety #ValueOfLife

 

3 AM Raison Toast and Flat White Festivities to Flip the 3am Night-time Dread

What do they call it when you wake up at 3 AM and beat yourself up? Ah yes, that’s the classic “Middle-of-the-Night Self-Flagellation Hour.” But hey, I’ve decided to rebrand it as “3 AM Raison Toast and Flat White Festivities!”

So, what do you do when you wake up at 3 AM? I used to lie there replaying all my life’s bloopers—super fun, right? Now, I’ve turned it into a mini celebration: “Yay, it’s time for a flat white and toast!” Then, it’s a toss-up. Sometimes I channel my inner domestic goddess—folding laundry, vacuuming, even washing the floors (who am I?). Other times, I just lounge on the couch with a book. Whatever keeps the positive vibes flowing. And soon enough, I’m back in bed, snoozing like a baby.

#EarlyMorningMagic #FlatWhiteFestivities #MidnightMunchies #PositiveVibes #NightOwl #DomesticGoddess #3AMAdventures #NighttimeDread

 

The Lens We Choose And How We Craft Our Worldview

Our biases are often created by who we choose to surround ourselves with and our life experiences.

Scrolling through social media, it’s clear that we humans have a knack for crafting narratives that suit our viewpoints. Take, for instance, two images I stumbled upon recently. The first one boldly declared, “Obesity began to rise as we swapped animal fats for seed oils,” among other swaps. The second image, dripping with rustic charm, claimed, “True medicine comes from the earth, not a lab.” Both are powerful in their simplicity, but they also reveal how we love to champion ideas that align with our personal beliefs.

The Obesity Conundrum

Let’s start with the first image. It paints a vivid picture of a world gone astray, where our dietary sins are laid bare. The message is clear: modern lifestyle choices are the root of our expanding waistlines. But is it really that simple? Sure, ultra-processed junk food and sedentary habits are well-known culprits in the obesity epidemic. However, the story is much more nuanced.

Swapping animal fats for seed oils isn’t necessarily the villainous act it’s portrayed to be. In fact, many seed oils contain polyunsaturated fats, which can be beneficial for heart health when consumed in moderation. On the other hand, vilifying plant-based diets overlooks the benefits of consuming more fruits and vegetables, which are linked to lower body weight and improved health outcomes​

The Medicine Debate

Now, onto the second image. With its idyllic display of herbs and tinctures, it romanticises the notion that true healing only comes from nature. It’s a beautiful thought, and there’s certainly wisdom in traditional remedies. But let’s not throw the baby out with the bathwater. Modern medicine, despite its sterility and sometimes impersonal nature, has eradicated diseases, extended lifespans, and saved countless lives. Penicillin, anyone?

We must appreciate the scientific rigor behind modern pharmaceuticals. Many medications are indeed derived from natural compounds, but they undergo extensive testing to ensure they are safe and effective. While it’s great to sip on chamomile tea for a mild headache, I’m reaching for the ibuprofen if I have a migraine. Balance, as they say, is key​

The Power of Perspective

These images underscore a fascinating truth: we often promote what suits our viewpoints. It’s comforting to find validation in simple, clear-cut answers to complex issues. But reality, much like a well-cooked stew, is a blend of many ingredients. By all means, cherish your grandmother’s chicken soup recipe, but don’t shun the flu shot.

We gravitate towards narratives that resonate with our beliefs, sometimes at the expense of a balanced perspective. It’s like choosing to focus only on the vibrant flowers in our garden while ignoring the weeds that also play a role in the ecosystem.

Embrace the Complexity

In the end, it’s vital to celebrate both our ancestral wisdom and the strides made by modern science. Each has its place in our quest for health and well-being. By embracing a more nuanced view, we can appreciate the benefits of a balanced diet and the advancements of modern medicine without falling into the trap of oversimplification.

So, the next time you see an image that neatly aligns with your beliefs, take a moment to adjust your lens. You might just discover a richer, more complex world waiting to be explored. And who knows, you might even find joy in the simple things—like a hydrangea flower caught in a spiderweb, reminding you of the beauty and intricacy of life itself.

#HealthDebate #ObesityMyths #NaturalMedicine #ModernMedicine #BalanceIsKey #HealthyLiving #PerspectiveMatters #WellnessJourney #DietAndHealth #ScientificAdvancements #TraditionalWisdom #HealthyChoices #MindfulLiving #EmbraceComplexity #SocialMediaNarratives