‘If You Have a Toilet, You Are Richer Than You Think’
If you have a toilet at home, you are richer than you think.
Many years ago, I read this, and I finally went and checked the real number. Of the roughly 8.3 billion of us on the planet, more than four in every ten, around 3.5 billion people, do not have a safe, private toilet. Only about 4.8 billion of us do. If you have one, you are quietly among the more fortunate half of the planet. The humble toilet we grumble about cleaning is a daily luxury billions don’t have.
This morning you turned a tap and clean water came out. You opened a fridge with food in it. You flicked a switch and light appeared. Slept in a bed, under a roof, behind a door that locks. For most of human history that was pure abundance. We simply stopped seeing it.
This is not about guilt, and it is not about feeling sorry for anyone. Real gratitude is not looking down at those who have less and feeling relieved. It is opening your eyes to how much good is already woven through an ordinary day and letting that warm you.
Our minds get used to everything. The new quickly becomes invisible, and we keep chasing what is missing while the full cup sits right in our hands. Gratitude is simply choosing to notice the cup.
So today, name three ordinary things you would truly miss if they were gone. The hot shower. The cup of tea. The toilet down the hall. You are not pretending life is perfect. You are training your eyes and mind to find the good.
What have you been treating as ordinary that is actually a quiet gift?
‘Your Natural Rhythm Is the Earth’s Rhythm’
Your natural rhythm is the Earth’s rhythm.
Last week we talked about how nature is how we truly rest. This week, let us go a level deeper, to the rhythm humming underneath it all, the Earth’s rhythm.
Have you noticed how calm you feel by the ocean, in a forest, by a fire, or in those slow moments just before sleep? That deep settling is not random. You are slipping back into your natural rhythm, the one you were born with.
Nikola Tesla said that to understand the universe, we should think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration. We are no exception. We are energy, humming at a frequency all day long. Our brains run at different speeds, measured as brainwaves. Stressed and busy, we are up in fast beta. Truly relaxed, we drop into the slower, calmer waves called alpha and theta, where we feel peaceful, creative and clear. That is our natural resting rhythm.
Here is the part that gives me goosebumps. The Earth has a natural pulse of its own, around eight cycles every second, which scientists call the Schumann resonance, and it sits right inside that same alpha and theta range. Our calmest rhythm is tuned to the heartbeat of the planet. When nature settles you, your body may literally be syncing back to the Earth.
The trouble is that modern life keeps us revved up in fast beta almost all the time. Notifications, deadlines, noise and screens keep the engine screaming, and we end up wired and tired, lying awake wondering why we cannot switch off.
The beautiful news is we can tune back in any time. Nature, slow breathing, stillness, meditation, hypnosis, music that moves you, or losing yourself in something creative, all gently guide the mind back into alpha and theta. This is coming home to ‘The Garden.’ As a hypnotherapist, it is the very state I help people reach.
‘What helps you drop out of the rush and back into your natural rhythm?’
‘Nature Is How We Reset’
Nature is how we rest. Find the place that does that for you and go there often.
We think rest means collapsing on the couch, scrolling, or binge watching another show. And yet we so often get up more tired than before. There is a real difference between simply stopping and truly resting.
Real rest does not just pause you; it restores you. And one of the deepest, simplest forms of it is nature. We are not separate from the natural world; we are part of it. Our bodies were shaped under open sky, near water and trees, not under screens and fluorescent lights. When we step outside, something in us exhales. The nervous system softens. The shoulders drop.
In my book I talk about how we seem to be quietly attuned to the rhythms of the Earth itself. The rustle of leaves, the flow of a stream, the warmth of the sun on your skin, these settle something in us far below our thinking, reminding the body that it is safe, and that it belongs.
Nature is ‘The Garden’ made real. Birdsong, a breeze through the leaves, green in every direction. Stepping into it is one of the fastest ways to walk straight back into the calm ‘Garden’ inside yourself.
Everyone has a place that does this. A beach, a bush track, a quiet river, a park bench under a big old tree, the backyard at first light. For me it is a few favourite spots around Melbourne that feel like open country, all within a twenty-minute drive, where I can sit in the quiet and somehow see things in my life clearly again. You know yours by the way your whole body settles the moment you arrive.
The mistake is saving it for the once-a-year holiday. Rest is not the prize at the end; it is the fuel for the journey. Ten minutes barefoot on the grass, a weekly walk among the trees, beats one big escape a year. Unfortunately we sometimes forget to go.
Where is the place that truly rests you, and when did you last let yourself go there?
‘We all have our own specific talents. Never compare yourself to others.’
We all have our own specific talents. Never compare yourself to others.
Every one of us arrived here with a particular set of gifts, a way of seeing, making, helping or creating that is ours alone. One of the quickest ways to lose sight is to spend your days measuring it against someone else’s.
Picture a garden. The rose does not look at the sunflower and feel like a failure for not being tall. Each flower simply blooms as what it is, and together they make something beautiful. We are no different.
There is a well-known line, often attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, that ‘Comparison is the thief of joy.’ These days we scroll through everyone’s highlight reel and quietly measure our ordinary insides against their edited outsides. We always come up short, because it was never a fair contest.
Remember, talents come in every shape. Some people shine on a stage, others have a quiet gift for listening, making people feel safe, staying calm in a storm. These rarely get applause, and the world would fall apart without them. Yours counts, even when it is quiet.
And this is not a judgement; we all fall into comparing ourselves sometimes. It is simply a reminder to turn back to your own patch of garden and tend what is growing there.
‘What is one talent of mine that I tend to overlook because I am too busy admiring someone else’s or not seeing my own?’
‘Sometimes a Miracle Moves Through Us’
Have you ever witnessed something you could only call a miracle?
I want to share this gently, and with great care, because it involves someone I will never identify. Her privacy matters deeply to me. What I can share is what moved through a therapy room one day.
A client had recently come into my care, and in our first session, as she talked about her life, something came over me. I found myself answering things with words that poured through me from somewhere internally. It amazed her, and it stunned me just as much.
Near the end of the session, she told me something that stopped me cold. The night before, she had decided that if she did not find the answers she was searching for, she was going to end her life. Somehow, without ever knowing her questions, I had answered all of them. Then I asked her how she could turn her life around from now on.
The next session, I witnessed a miracle. She had taken her power back, and in one week, doing what she needed to do, she turned her whole life around. I want to be clear; the answers were already within her. I simply got out of the way long enough for something greater to move through, and the courage was hers.
This was not the first time. In my book, Where the F*ck Do Our Minds Go? I share a moment with a mate in the building Industry, Frank, who reached out for advice while wrestling with something heavy. The year was 1988. And without planning a word, I said exactly what he needed to hear, and it surprised us both. The same quiet place.
I drove home trying to understand it. I believe these moments happen to many of us when we quieten our own noise and let something larger move through. Call it intuition, grace, the deeper knowing we all carry, our guides, angels and our higher self. It is truly a miracle.
And if you are sitting where she was, please hear this. You matter, and the answers are often closer than they feel. Please reach out. You do not have to carry it alone.
‘Where in your life might a miracle be quietly waiting, if you got still enough to let it in?’
‘Want a Guarantee? Buy a Toaster’
Want a guarantee? Buy a toaster.
RIP: Arthur Malacos – 19/08/1960 – 12/10/2022
I saw this line in a movie back in the eighties, and it has stuck with me ever since. It got me thinking, and without wanting to sound too morbid, the only guarantee any of us are truly given is the date, still unknown to us, when we pass from this earthly plane. Everything before then is ours to shape. We have a choice to create a life worth living before that final guarantee arrives.
We are wired to want certainty for the rest of it too. We want to know a relationship will last before we let ourselves fall. We want to know the business will work before we leave the job. We want proof the leap will pay off before we take a single step.
Here is the gentle truth. Beyond that one certainty, life does not hand out guarantees. The only place you will reliably find one is stapled to the side of a toaster. A warranty, a money-back promise, certainty in a box. Life itself offers no such thing, and waiting around for one is one of the quietest ways we miss our own lives.
Think about your best decisions. Loving someone, having a child, starting something of your own, leaving something that was hurting you. Not one of them came with a guarantee. You stepped forward not knowing how it would end and did it anyway. That willingness, not the certainty, is what made it worthwhile.
Martin Luther King said ‘Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.’ You do not need the whole plan. You only need enough courage for the next step, and then the one after that. The staircase reveals itself as you climb.
And this is not a judgement, we all cling to the safe and certain sometimes. It is simply a nudge to notice where you have been waiting for a guarantee that was never coming, and to take one honest step anyway.
‘Where in your life have you been waiting for a guarantee before you let yourself begin?’
‘If We Were Meant to Be Alone, We Would All Live on Our Own Planet.’
‘If we were meant to be alone, we would all live on our own planet.’
There are billions of planets out there, surely enough for each of us to have our own quiet corner of space. And yet here we all are, together on this one small blue planet, loving each other, needing each other. That is no accident. We are here for love and connection.
Have you ever thought about someone, and moments later they call or message? Those little moments are reminders of the invisible threads running between us. We are far more connected than we realise.
Think of a forest. Above the ground each tree looks like it stands alone. Underneath, their roots are woven together, quietly feeding each other, the strong ones holding up the ones doing it tough. We are built the same way, to lean on each other and to be held when our own roots are struggling.
And when life knocks us around and we want to withdraw, please remember, reaching out when you feel most like hiding is one of the bravest, most human things you can do. And this is not a judgement, we all retreat into our shell sometimes.
We were never meant to do this life alone.
Who could you reach out to this week, simply to let them know they matter?
‘Love Rarely Announces Itself When It Walks Into a Room.’
Love rarely announces itself when it walks into a room.
We expect love to be loud. The grand gesture, the big surprise, the expensive gift held up for everyone to see. And yet the truest love is usually the quietest thing in the room.
Someone can hand you something shiny and still leave you feeling unseen. Someone else does the smallest thing, and you feel known right to your bones. A person who truly loves you doesn’t always reach for the flashiest gift. They give you what you actually need, the thing that quietly says, ‘I’ve been paying attention.’ It might cost next to nothing. The worth is in the care behind it.
My father barely said a word, and his love was everywhere. ‘We are family, and we help each other,’ was about as much as he would say. My mother loved strawberries and cream and would never buy them for herself, always giving outward, rarely to herself. She left me with a line I will never forget. ‘If you truly love me, show me while I have my eyes open. The day my eyes are shut, it’s too late.’ (Dimitra Malacos, 1930 to 2009).
And this is not a judgement, we have all given the rushed gift and missed the quiet chance. It is simply an invitation to notice the subtle ways love already moves around us, and to add a few of our own.
‘How Is the Law of Unintended Consequences Real in Our Lives?’
Is the law of unintended consequences real in our lives?
Think about the best things in your life right now. The people, the turns, the moments that changed everything. How many of them did you actually plan? If you are like me, almost none.
We like to believe we are in control, mapping it all out. The truth is softer and stranger than that. Every choice we make sends out ripples we can never see the end of. A small yes. A kind word. A door we almost did not open.
Years ago, my mother watched me solving work problems on the phone at her kitchen table, shook her head and said, ‘How haven’t you gone mad listening to this every day?’ She had no idea those few passing words would start my whole healing journey. One small comment, ripples still spreading today.
It works the other way too. A harsh word thrown in a fiery moment sends out ripples we never meant, and often cannot take back.
Here is the gift in it. You cannot govern where the ripples land. You can tend the stone you throw. Act from a calm and open place rather than a cluttered one, and leave people and places a little better than you found them. The rest you release.
What small thing could you do today whose ripples you may never fully see?
‘Anger and Shame feed each other.’
Another aspect of anger is that it is the fuel to shame.
Have you ever sat in your car outside your own home, telling yourself, "be calm, don't lose it tonight," quietly wanting a different outcome to yesterday, and to the day before that?
You walk through the door, and in no time at all, the anger comes out. Later on you sit there confused, asking yourself, "Why did I react like that? That is not who I want to be."
In my book I call it 'The Werewolf Within.'
It was never really about what happened at the door. Underneath the aspect of anger was shame, and a pile of other emotions. The shame was the fuel, and the werewolf delivered the anger.
Anger is just one facet of a diamond, that all of us are multifaceted. Turn it to the light and something softer is almost always hiding behind it.
As the saying goes, "You cannot see your reflection in boiling water." When the water calms, what might your anger be protecting you.?
‘Um. The Atomic symbol for confusion.’
Um. The atomic symbol for confusion.
We have all been there. That foggy, stuck, “I don’t even know what I’m feeling or what to do next” place. And most of us treat confusion like a dead end, a sign something has gone wrong with us.
Here is a gentler way to see it. Confusion is not the end of the road. It is the step right before clarity.
Think about it. You only feel confused when your old way of seeing something no longer fits. The fog is not a wall, it is a sign you have outgrown the old map and a clearer one is forming. Confusion is clarity, still getting dressed.
The mistake we make is running from the fog, numbing it, scrolling past it, staying busy, anything to not sit in the not-knowing. And whatever we run from, waits for us. The way out of confusion was never around it. It is through it.
So when the fog rolls in, and this is not a judgement, we all get lost in it, try not to panic. Get still. Ask one honest question. Clarity is closer than it feels.
What are you confused about right now that might simply be clarity on its way?
'The limits of our language become the limits of our inner world.'
‘The limits of our language become the limits of our inner world.’
Someone asks how you are, and out comes “not too bad,” “fine,” “yeah, I’m good.” Someone asks what’s wrong, and the best you can manage is “I’m angry” or “I’m over it.” Not because that’s the whole truth of what you feel, only because those are the only words you were ever given for it.
We were taught spelling, maths, grammar, a thousand things about the world out there. Almost none of us were taught the language of what goes on inside us.
I know this one from the inside. I grew up in a Greek-speaking home and started school with barely any English. I was put in a special class, and I carried a quiet belief for years that I was somehow less. I wasn’t short of intelligence. I was short of words, in the one language that room counted.
Here is the thing. A whole rich inner world, disappointment, grief, longing, shame, gets crushed down into the few blunt words we have. Angry. Frustrated. Fine. It’s like trying to paint a sunset with three crayons.
And this is not a judgement. We all do the best we can with what we know today. The good news is you can grow the words at any age. The moment you can name what you feel, you can begin to understand it, share it, and heal it.
What are you really feeling, underneath the word you usually reach for?
‘Where There Is Water, There Is Life.’
Where there is water, there is life. You are mostly water. Tend to whatever keeps you flowing.
Around 60% of you is water. You already know that when you do not drink enough, everything slows, your body, your mood, your thinking. Water is life, and you are mostly made of it.
Here is the deeper part. It is not only the water in your body that needs to keep moving. Your energy, your emotions, your days, they are all meant to flow too. When we dam them up, when we hold in the hurt, sit too long in the same worry, or stop doing the things that make us feel alive, we go stagnant. A still pond turns cloudy. A moving stream stays clear.
So gently ask yourself, what keeps me flowing? Maybe it is moving your body, or letting a feeling finally move through you instead of holding it. Maybe it is rest, or good water, or time with the people who lift you. And this is not a judgement, we all get dammed up sometimes.
Tend to whatever keeps you flowing. That is how you stay clear, and alive.
/What has gone a little stagnant in you, and what would help it flow again?/
'What gets you out of bed in the morning? If you cant answer that, then that's the work!'
'What gets you out of bed in the morning? If you cant answer that, then that's the work!'
So many of us are running on autopilot. I call it living your "Temporary Destiny." The good news is right there in the word temporary. Nothing about your default is fixed.
Not the alarm. Not the mortgage. Your why. Your purpose isn't found in a flash. It's grown, one seed at a time. So, What's one you could plant today?
'No one frames a house on their own. The same is true for our lives.'
'No one frames a house on their own. The same is true for our lives.'
Not because it's heavy or hard to do. Because doing it alone was never the smart way.
Same goes for what you're carrying in your head. Reaching for a hand isn't weakness. It's just the smart way to build.
You call in a sparky when it's not your trade. Your mind is no different. Sometimes you call in someone who knows that job.
You were never meant to do it all solo.
It’s Mindful - Not Mind-Full
It's mindful, not mind-full.
Two words a hyphen apart, and worlds apart to live in. A mind that's full is crammed, racing, reacting to everything. A mind that's mindful is simply here — present, aware, awake to this moment.
Most of us live mind-full and call it normal. Mindful is a choice, and it's always available.
Right now, which one are you?
‘Are you carrying more baggage Than luggage?’
'Carrying more baggage than luggage.'
At times we travel through life with more baggage than luggage.
Not the suitcases. The invisible kind. Old hurts, grudges, regrets, fears, the "you're not enough" voices we packed years ago and never set down. Carry it long enough and you stop noticing the weight.
There's a Zen story of two monks who came to a river, where a woman stood unable to cross. Monks had vowed never to touch a woman, yet one of them simply lifted her, carried her through the water, and set her down on the far riverbank. Hours later, his companion was still stewing on it, and finally asked how he could have broken the vow. The monk replied "I set her down at the riverbank hours ago, why are you still carrying her?"
‘What are you still carrying that you could set down today?’
‘Everything has a Load limit’
‘Everything has a load limit.’
"I'm at the end of my tether." You have heard this or said it in times when things are overlaoded. A tether only has so much length. Reach the end and it pulls taut. No amount of straining gives you another inch of rope.
That isn't weakness. It's a load limit, and everything that carries a load has one. Steel, timber, concrete, and yourself. You're not the exception.
Rest isn't weakness. It's maintenance. A tool left running hot burns out. You already know this. You've just never applied it to yourself.
'The most important 150 millimetres on any job is the average space between our ears.'
The most important 150 millimetres in your life is the average space between our ears.
Put two traders in front of the same market. The optimist sees it climbing as it falls. The pessimist sees it crashing as it rises. Same screen, two opposite worlds. Why? We never see the world as it is. We see it through the filter of our own thoughts, beliefs and patterns, and most of that filter was installed in us before we were seven.
Success or failure so often starts right there, in that small space. The good news? The filter can be reshaped.
What are you seeing right now that might just be your filter?
'The truest sermon you'll ever give is simply the life you live.'
‘The truest sermon you'll ever give is simply the life you live.’
We think our influence is in what we say, the advice, the lessons, the opinions. It isn't. The people around us, especially our kids, learn far more from how we live than from anything we tell them.
My father barely said a word about how to be a good man. He simply was one, and it rubbed off.
What is your life quietly teaching the people who love you?