Don’t be a Slave to the Man

So just to get some of the boring admin crap out the way first… Like, where the hell have I been all your life? And why the heck haven’t I blogged in forever? I shall explain.

I may have accidentally had an unscheduled extended break from the blogosphere for a while. Like somewhere around a year ish. The reason why? Well I started a new job. A job that came with a whole new lifestyle and a lack of routine. A job in which time just ‘flies’ by and I feel tired approximately 90% of the time.

I am a flight attendant now. I love my job. It’s fun, I get to work with some great people and fly all over the country, seeing cities I wouldn’t see otherwise. But boy, has it been a lifestyle change!

It’s no 9-5. Sometimes I start work at 4am, sometimes it’s 10pm. Sometimes I’m away from home for four days at a time, sometimes it’s only one.I usually only sleep in my own bed a few nights a week and miss my partner and doggo A LOT! There’s no routine. And I like routine. Even excercise has taken a bench seat. When I am home, I really value the time I get to spend with my two boys. I appreciate the sleep ins, being an introvert as much as socially acceptable and catching up on z’s. But I also have to find time for life errands, seeing friends and just general adulting.

The adjustment was especially hard when I first started. I was exhausted allllll the time (now I’m just tired the majority of the time), I was getting sick way too regularly (because, passengers and germs and run down), and did I mention I was always bloody tired? So naturally, my absence from One Active Life was to be expected in those initial months of finding my feet and getting accustom (both mentally and physically) to #cabincrewlife. But slowly, as I spent more time away from writing, the less motivated I was. I thought about it sometimes, but never opened my laptop. The more time away, the less passionate I became. To the point, One Active Life wasn’t even something I thought about anymore.

Writing used to be something I enjoyed. Something I loved. Something that gave me a sense of purpose and gave me a outlet for self expression. It wasn’t a burden. It was a joy. A way for me to clear my head and hopefully inspire others at the same time. So I’ve had to ask myself, how did I let it get to this point? How did I allow my priorities to slip?

I read a quote the other day which is relevant on so many levels, including this context. It said:

Your killing yourself for a job that would replace you within a week if you dropped dead. Take care of yourself.

Heavy. But holy wow isn’t it true?!

So many of us work so hard, we have no life left in us to actually live. To actually enjoy our down time, our hobbies, our passions, our families, our friends – the simple things. How freakn sad is that! Where’s the balance? And for the most part we are burning ourselves out for someone who doesn’t even appreciate or acknowledge all the hard work and overtime we put in.

To a large company you are disposable. You are just a number. A easily replaceable cog in the machine. If that’s all you are to them, don’t make them your whole life. Unless you are self-employed, living out your passion or perhaps working for a small business that truly appreciates you, I know you can relate! (Having worked for both a small business and large organisations, I’m raising my hands in an ‘amen’ to that!)

By all means, do your job, do it well, work hard but don’t take that shit home with you. Clock off and clock off mentally too. Don’t get too busy having a career that you forget to have a life. Stop working so bloody hard for a company that doesn’t value your worth and start living! Find a healthy work life balance so that in twenty years when you do look back, you remember doing more than just working, eating and sleeping.

And while I (clearly) have a lot to express about all this to the point I could go on to write a novel, I’ll try not to digress any further. Basically, I’ve realised that I too have allowed my job to take over my life this past year. And as much as I do love flying, (it’s not the job itself I have beef with, but the by-product of #cabincrewlife aka the tiredness, the fatigue, exhaustion and lack of motivation to do anything other than hermit), I’ve decided things need to change. I’m no longer going to be a slave to the Man. I’m going to do as much as I can to be home more often and manage my sleep. To enjoy my time off and spend time with loved ones. But most importantly, I am going to start writing again, rekindle that passion and maybe even feel purpose beyond serving tea and coffee on a plane.

I can’t promise it’ll be a regular thing but I am committed to do something for ME again. I AM going to fall in love with writing again.

Unit next time…

Love Eloise x

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When you want a hot bod but you also love food

My number one dilemma in life is this – What do I want most…a bangn’ beach babe bod or to devour all the delicious foods?

I love food! All the foods! Sometimes I really wish I didn’t love food. Any of the foods! Because well, what I would reeeeeally love is cheese-grater abs and the type of defined legs that don’t wobble when I walk.

Raw balls or buff biceps? Burrito bowls or a bountiful booty? Hot chips or hot rig?

Life’s tough decisions.

Going out for brunch and trying new cafes around Perth is probably one of my favourite past times. I mean, who doesn’t appreciate a piled-high avocado bruschetta or a decadent warm chocolate brownie?! My camera roll is a smorgasbord of screenshots of food to try and places to eat. Yet, there are just as many snaps of bikini babes and #fitspo motivation.

It’s like my brain is constantly fighting between ‘treat yo self’ and ‘eat for sustenance.’ I want to be able to eat all the yums, but I want a ripped rig just as much!  You see the struggle?

Taking your tastebuds to pleasure town is all well and good (in moderation), until the kilos start creeping on and your jeans don’t zip up anymore. And if that still doesn’t drive the point home there’s always that moment when you stand in the Myer fitting rooms and see your cellulite from every possible unflattering angle. Every last, wobbly inch of it!

For me, it was the Target change rooms (those bloody mirrors don’t lie) and the realisation that my bali holiday was no longer months away, but just a matter of weeks. Maybe those sneaky kgs were easily hidden in the cold winter months under layers of clothes, but now the sun is (occasionally) making an appearance again, shit’s gettn’ real yo. And did I mention I go to Bali in less than 2 weeks?!

If like me, you struggle to say no to temptation as much as you should or you are also stressing that bikini season is fast approaching, well it’s time to get your shit together! Food should be fuel for your bodies not just for sensory satisfaction. Before reaching for that treat, ask yourself, is this going to nourish my body and fuel me throughout the day? Is it going to help me achieve my desired body? Are my goals really worth sacrificing for that piece of cake? Will I regret it later? Is a fleeting moment of tastebud satisfaction more important than feeling happy, confident and sexy every single day?

Look, I get that it easy to say ‘no’ in theory (especially for me right now, as I sit here writing, love handles and stomach rolls buldging as a reminder of all the calories consumed the past few months). It’s easy to say, ‘I’m not giving in to temptation anymore!’ but when you come face-to-face with a cabinet of raw treats will you still have that focus? Or will the internal monologue start all over again as you debate with yourself whether to eat the cake or not.

I’ll tell you what works for me in these moments, other than knowing I’ll be in sunny Bali exposing all my limbs in under two weeks. It’s this.. DON’T GIVE UP WHAT YOU WANT MOST FOR WHAT YOU WANT NOW!

And so from here forward I’m going to go all Charles Boyle (hello Brooklyn Nine-nine fans) and only eat for sustenance now! Or at least try.

Love Elo xx

Are You Drowning in Stuff?

I moved house recently, which is fun and exciting but also rather tiring and draining. During the time-consuming and painful process of packing and relocating my things, I came to the realisation that I have accumulated a lot of stuff. A lot of clothes, a lot of shoes, a lot of books, stationary, jewellery and basically just a lot of meaningless crap.

Now, considering I am basically a gypsy, having officially moved seven times in the past five years (did I mention I like change?), in which each time I managed to significantly eliminate the quantity of useless junk I own, I have to admit that I’m kind of surprised, and frankly embarrassed, by the amount of unnecessary shit I have somehow still retained.

Seriously, the volume of virtually unused and (for the most part) unloved clothing that I found hiding away in my drawers or squished to the back of my closet was ridiculous. Yet for some reason I felt it necessary to keep hold of it all ‘just in case I wear it again’. Well, that ‘just in case’ moment never seemed to occur, and so this time I sucked it up and chucked it all straight into the good Sammy’s pile.

I wouldn’t call myself a hoarder. I don’t really have that much stuff and I don’t buy things very often. Yet whilst packing up my life, I did feel a strange and unjustified connection to some of the things I have accumulated. An unwarranted attachment to books I had never read and necklaces I’d never worn. Each time another item was ditched in the bin or thrown towards the salvos collection, I felt some momentary grief. It stung a little bit. I was hesitant to part ways. Though not because I was mourning the loss of that pair of high waisted denim shorts. Nope. I felt sadness for all the money that had been wasted over superficial crap. All the money that I was basically just throwing away. All the money that could’ve been put towards better things.

Better things like travelling and experiences. Exploring and chasing adventures. Weekend road trips, spontaneous mid-week outings and dinners with friends. All the stuff that create lasting memories, not just collect dust in the back of a cupboard somewhere. That’s what I believe life is all about- collecting moments, not things.

It was money that could have helped feed a homeless man on the street or rescued a stray puppy or provided a water well for an entire village in a third-world country. Yet it was money just sitting in my wardrobe achieving nothing, providing no purpose, collecting dust.

It makes me angry. Both at myself and at society. Angry that I wasted so much money on useless possessions, but mostly angry that we live in a world where such a huge importance is placed on materialistic things. We are a society ruled by consumerism. We want our houses to resemble a photograph in an interior design magazine. We spend money on new outfits, only to wear them once. We are constantly upgrading to the newest technology when what we already have works perfectly fine.

Why do we do it? Why do we feel the need to dress up our lives in sparkles and glitter? Western society has put unrealistic expectations on us to always be, look and have the best of everything. Social media, with its #fitspo models, online clothing boutiques and sponsored posts is hugely to blame too. Instagram and Facebook encourage us to become fixated on appearance and possessions. Social media makes us become aware of products we didn’t even know about, yet suddenly we need them.

It’s easy to get sucked up in it all. Become victim to the way of the world. It surrounds us everywhere we go. It is constantly in our face – consciously and subconsciously. But I guess we each, as individuals need to decide what is more important to us? Stuff or unforgettable experiences? Having an amazing wardrobe or helping others?

Here’s some fuel for thought…

No one is going to stand up at your funeral and say, “She had a really expensive couch and great shoes.” Don’t make your life be about materialistic stuff.

That right there, sums it all up.

Love Elo xx