Monthly inspiration
I read about seven magazines every month,
but WellBeing is where I get the most value
for money. I read the magazine over many
days, sometimes weeks, as it’s like a thick
book just with a beautiful cover and inner
page layouts. I love all of the columns,
especially “Raising a Shy Child” and
“Stoicism”. This month, I really look forward
to trying the recipes featuring Indigenous
ingredients, especially lemon myrtle.
Jessica ThomasOverfl owing with love
In this moment, I am overflowing with love.
I have just spent the morning at one of my
many local beaches in Port Stephens, with
my seven-month old baby boy. We lazed about
on a picnic blanket under a shady gum tree,
dug our toes into the wet sand and laughed
as we splashed in the shallows. My son and
I give and receive endless love, love that I feel
in the depths of my stomach, my heart, my
head, my bones. It is a love I first shared with
my mother, who died 10 months before my
baby was born. I am thankful for my mother
and our love as I continue to share it with
all my children, my husband, friends, wider
family, and across encounters with others.
Sarah AndersonDid something resonate
with you in this issue of
WellBeing? Tell us! Write
to WellBeing, Locked Bag
154, North Ryde, NSW
1670, email wbletters@
umco.com.au, comment
on our Facebook page
or Instagram account:
@WellBeing _Magazine.
We reserve the right
to edit all letters.From the editor
It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was dropping envelopes into my friends’ mailboxes. On
each of the envelopes I had written, “to be opened on Saturday”. My friends didn’t know it
yet, but inside the envelopes were blindfolds (well, airline eye masks and a few headscarfs).
Come Saturday, I was taking six friends and my fiancé, Henry, on a surprise adventure.
Before I continue sharing this great adventure story, I’ve got to take you to the summer
of 2017. Henry and I had just moved to the area and were spending our days at the beach.
A crew of us would surf until dark, throw comfy clothes over our salty skin and meet for
a chicken parmigiana at the local bowling club. There, we’d discuss the waves of the day,
the upcoming swell and how much we all loved “paradise”.
This chicken parmi was like no other: Italian tomatoes simmered for hours, fresh local
chicken that was perfectly crumbed, a salad that wasn’t the slightest bit soggy and,
to top it off, a dollop of truffle mayonnaise. It fast became a ritual for me and my friends.
Then, the bowlo changed owners.
Devastated, we shared one final supper. It was a sad day; not only had the parmi brought
us all together twice a week, sometimes more, it had introduced Henry and me to paradise
and set the tone for our new life here up: a life that involved nature, the ocean, deep
connections and so much time — all the things we yearned for when we lived in Sydney.
I can hear you asking, “What does any of this have to do with six friends and my
fiancé blindfolded?” Well, after a long, cold winter and a dearth of chicken parmis and
regular catchups, I found myself in an intense Google search that ended with what
I hoped was the bowlo chef’s number. I gave it a call. A guy picked up and I launched
into my story about rituals and chicken. There was dead silence on the other end,
followed by a bellowing laugh. “Mate, that’s my recipe! I even cooked for the Queen,”
a Kiwi voice replied. I recognised it instantly; it was Nathan, the chef we all admired.
“I’ve got a new place out at Brunswick Heads,” he said and my hopeful heart raced —
“but I haven’t put parmis on the menu.” I responded with a groan, to which he added: “But
you’ve inspired me, Kate. For one week only, I’ll put my infamous chicken parmis on the
menu. Tell all your friends!” I was ecstatic; this was music to my ears!
I couldn’t just “tell my friends” as Nathan had suggested. This had to be a moment.
Which is why my friends and Henry are waiting blindfolded just a few doors down from
Nathan’s new joint. They’re hungry and excited. They’re also holding a raw egg each, which
I thought would mess with them a little bit: what came first, the chicken or the egg?
One by one, I walk my blindfolded friends slowly inside and sit them down. When the
chicken parmis are placed in front of each of my friends, I see their noses begin to twitch
and tingle. I clear my throat and share the final stage of my surprise: a poem I wrote about
rituals and rebirth. They listen intently, innocent as to what’s to come. Finally, I invite my
friends to slide their blindfolds up and, as they do, I see shock then pure joy spread across
their faces. They can’t believe what they see! The original parmi resurrected from the dead!
Full and content, I look around. These are the people I’m taking into the next phase of
my life. These are the ones who will be there for all the “big” moments. Together, we’re
moving through our 30s, buying houses, developing careers, having babies and “adulting”
in a brand-new way. But, among all of those big life moments, we can’t forget to celebrate
the rituals we’ve created or the memories we’ve shared. Some of those moments might, at
first, seem trivial but trust me: there’s magic to be found in the strangest of places.
Spring is a wonderful time of the year to consider who you are and how you want to be.
I hope this issue, our first ever Renew Me edition, encourages you to revisit old rituals,
rebirth new ones and experience a renewed state of body and mind.Kate Duncan EDITORcommunity
YOUR SAY12 | wellbeing.com.au