Where the Wild things are…

It’s that time of week again! That time you put your worries aside, put your feet up, grab your laptop or tablet and a bottle or glass of your favourite poison (Our’s is Whiskey in case any of our readers were thinking of gifts) before settling back in your favourite chair and reading through this week’s installment of A Mind of its Own. This week we’ve come home wrapped our hands around a cold frothy or two and explored our own backyard in order to write this wonderful piece.

Australia, home to some of the worlds most unique flora and fauna. It has one of the world’s most eclectic collection of animals known to man. As Australian’s we are pretty proud of our often odd and unique fauna so much so that our coat of arms, our money and even some of our sporting teams mascots and tv characters are based on the wonderful creatures that walk, swim and fly this fine land. So what does the most majestic of Australian birds and the most requested tattoo of Schoolies 2017 have in common besides being a great idea for this weeks blog?

Glad you asked! Besides being the drunken regret of many teenagers who now have this majestic bird branded on their bodies (remember kids, tattoos are for life! Unless you get them lasered off, i hear it’s painful though). The two have very little in common other than looking quite silly but if you’re going to be branded with something I suppose it’s better being a bird than a swastika or other ridiculous idea for a tattoo.

The 2017, Bird of the Year became from behind, beating out the Cassowary, Willy Wag Tail and a couple of other birds no one really gives a toss about to claim the title. The People had spoken and made their choice. The Australian White Ibis (Garbagius Birdius) or Bin Chicken as it is more commonly known has taken the crown and been named Australian Bird of the Year for twenty seventeen. We have been unable to get a comment as to whether they’ll be flapping up to the feeding trough and defending their title this year.

With it’s recent bout of fame and taking a beloved place in today’s society as it scabs through bins and eats out of the gutters. This walking, flying, squawking trash disposal can be found anywhere there is human waste. Parks, garbage tips and loading docks are some of their favoured territories as they spread their wings in the search of new delicacies left over by their human overloads.

This rubbish raptor has become the inland seagull of Australia. Keen to steal your hot chips, harass your small children and make an absolute pest of themselves they’ve maneuvered their way into the hearts and minds of today’s youth. If we are honest they aren’t the most attractive bird with their hooked beaks, scaly black long legs and white feathers they remind me of every Collingwood supporter I’ve ever met. Maybe it’s the black and white or maybe it’s just the lack of teeth and charisma. But either way this Rubbish Turkey has made a name and place for itself in today’s pop culture.

It did get us wondering why someone hadn’t capitalised and created a stick figure Ibis to join your family on the back window of your car. What is it about these birds that has Australia so enamoured with them? Is it there carefree no fucks given attitude as they pick at our scraps in the streets? Or there battler spirit that has them eating out of bins as degradation to their natural environments has forced them to adapt and overcome.

Like the Marines of the skies these birds have adapted and overcome. Once wading in shallow water and eating crustaceans they now find themselves perched on the lids of bins and like the homeless of the skies ready to go dumpster diving for their next meal. These birds now find themselves in amongst the concrete jungles fighting the homeless for scraps outside fast food joints.

This once revered bird in times gone by has managed to earn itself a bad bird title, developing a reputation for being disgusting, destructive, noisy and often dirty. With their inability to keep their feathers a clean crisp white this rubbish warrior has taken it upon itself to find new homes and a new source of food. There are many names for this modern-day survivor but it will forever be known as the Bin Chicken. What it’s rise to fame doesn’t tells us is this bird is one of only a few who has managed to adapt and overcome the destruction of it’s natural, native habit to continue surviving.

Next time you see one of these majestic birds pecking at your lawn or local sporting ground, eating out of the gutter or bin or chasing people for their hot chips just remember we turned them into the Bin Chicken we love and often fear today. As we expanded into their habitats and took over the waterways they relied on for feeding.

So to the Bin Chicken, Trash Chooks, Trash Turkey, Rubbish Raptor, Winged Rubbish Bin, Flying Trash Disposal, Dumpster Diver, we here at A Mind of its Own salute you! A true battler and a true Aussie icon that has managed to adapt and continue its existence despite the continued threat to your natural habitat. If you can’t beat em join em they say and that’s what you’ve done, traded water for rubbish.

While we joke and jest at this bird with a bad reputation and strange habit for eating rubbish, there is an important message to be taken from this weeks post. What you do has an impact, for every action there is a reaction and whilst we didn’t exactly cause the Dumpster Diver that is the Bin Chicken our ancestors certainly did and what we do in this life will have an impact on what our children and their children will see or in some cases not be able to see as it no longer exists. Do the right thing….

Over and out for another week, we hope you’ve found this blog insightful and educational. Till next week enjoy the journey.

Set Phasers to Stun…

Born in the driver’s seat of a Toyota Prius stuck in the usual Monday to Friday chaos that is the M1 motorway on my way up to the plastic beach scene that is the Gold Coast, this week’s instalment of A Mind of its Own was born out of pure hilarity thanks to the young man driving in front of me who clearly thought he was hot stuff in his fluro workwear and cheap petrol station sunnies.

So much can be said about the youth of today, so much so that I won’t even get started but this morning I saw a bumper sticker that pretty much pulled all of my thoughts about the youth of today, to front of mind and made me want to fashion a knife out of the McDonald’s straw on the floor to stab myself in the eyes so I didn’t have to read the downright stupidity plastered all over the P platers car stopped in front of me at the lights.

Clearly trying to make up for his lack of ability to lure in a suitable mate, the primate sitting in his Ute, window down, it was raining mind you, mullet flowing gloriously down the back of his neck and a tattoo sleeve that no artist would be proud to say was there work. Had more stickers plastered over the tailgate of his 1998 Holden Commodore than a children’s sticker book. Safe to say if you had a kid you wouldn’t not want them to understand the vulgarity of half the things stuck to the chipping paint job of the young tradesman’s vehicle.

So despite his distinguished appearance and classy manners as he turned spitting all over the car next to him, this charmer was clearly a hit with the ladies. Some of the best and no doubt classiest pick up lines in this kids vocabulary had to of come from his choice of cheap bumper stickers. With classics like ‘No Fat chicks, my ride will drag” to “Fat chicks, shoot em don’t root em” I started to wonder what this classy member of our societies parents were like and whether he had an ounce of ability to say something to woman that wasn’t sexiest, chauvinistic or bigoted.

Here at A Mind of its Own we try not to judge people on their appearance or choice of bumper stickers however the kid wasn’t doing himself any favours. From vulgar statements through to stickers of women in compromising positions with no clothes on and the creme de la creme of stickers plastered on his back window ‘No Root, No ride’ I’d be questioning any parents judgement letting their daughter step into this pillar of societies vehicle. I mean if he had one of those stick families sure I might think twice but there wasn’t even stick figures trying to procreate. If the MeToo campaign wanted a poster child of what young men should not be like this kids car wasn’t doing him any favours.

Watching him release the clutch, put his foot to the floor and grind through his gears while he sped off, I started to think about bumper stickers and what possesses people to plaster them on their precious vehicles. Thankfully not everyone’s choice’s are vulgar or disturbing but I still question whether they are a waste of money. Stick families, baby on board, my other car, these stickers aren’t handed out or found as freebies in magazines so what possesses people to fork out their hard-earned cash to ensure the people behind them receive a benign message they may, or may not remember five minutes down the road.

That being said the man or woman who came up with the idea to place a sticker on the back of a motor vehicle and saw the opportunity to milk the masses for a couple of bucks here or there was an absolute genius! Writing that I do feel that perhaps we also aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed if we aren’t seeing its a waste of money. I’d love to say it’s just the P platers but I know many an adult who has bought a sticker to draw attention to their automobile over the years.

Yes we know you just got a BMW it has its own badges to tell me what it is you don’t need to go and get the performance works sticker on the back so it looks like you’ve gone for the upgrade. Oh you have a baby on board? Why are you doing 120 in an 80 zone than love? Stickers, stickers, stickers and more contradictions than the King James Version of the bible. My favourite is the advertisement that a child goes to a private school I NEVER would have guessed by the type of vehicle you are driving and you never see those on a Ute they are usually emblazoned on the back of BMW, Audi, Volvo, Land Rovers or other high-end motor vehicles.

The choices are outstanding and every petrol station from here to Timbuktu stocks them. The Yanks love them, the Europeans all have them and us Aussies well if we are from the country you can bet we’ll at least have an R.M Williams sticker somewhere on the car as well as one advertising their local pub and no doubt something degrading towards women or people who are attracted to the other sex. Either way it’s all very redneck once our country folk get involved. The options when it comes to picking what to adorn your vehicle with are endless.

So bumper stickers, big waste of time and money? We’ll leave it for the public to decide one thing we have worked out though if you are trying to make a good impression make sure your bumper stickers and stick family aren’t involved in lude, rude or crude behaviour, there is a time and place for that and plastered all over your car isn’t going to help you. Like a chapter of how to win friends and influence people we’ll give you this advice for free. Life is like a box of chocolates and no one like the Turkish delights no matter how much they tell you they do.

Over and out till next week’s insightful chapter of A Mind of its own…

Slowdance on the inside…

Welcome to another installment of A Mind of its Own. This week we thought we’d throw on the whites head down the oval via a trip to the painting isle at Bunnings and rough up a few cricket balls before rolling the arm over to send down a barrage of half volleys, laughs and insights about the world around us.

It’s been the second biggest thing to hit the news in recent weeks only to be surpassed by the shambles of the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony that left us wondering how long it would be, before the woman responsible for Arsegate would be releasing a book titled My Crack, the story of the games unhidden shame.

Three men, one piece of sandpaper, a roughed up cricket ball and the scandal of the nation. Not since the infamous John Hopoate Incident in 2001 has a nation’s sporting world been rocked so heavily. There’s been the odd breach of the NRL’s salary cap (A new year another team) or the new round of AFL naked selfies but nothing that has brought a great sporting nation like ours to a halt like this has since John reached up and fingered several of his opponents anus’s.

As I sit in the office dual screens in front of me researching cricket’s current events it occurs to me that we need to just relax. What? I am relaxed you think to yourself and who is this guy to tell me to relax? I’m not talking about you the reader sitting there sipping your latte on a Wednesday morning while scrolling through our blog on the latest and greatest tablet or smartphone. I’m talking about society in general.

We place our heroes on pedestals like infallible gods only to become extremely enraged and upset with them when they make a mistake. Sports men and women seem to cop it just as much as anyone else. The only good thing to come out of the recent cricketing scandal is Bunnings profit margin for the first quarter of the year. In the last month alone sales of sandpaper have gone through the roof and the average age of customers has lowered by 20 odd years. But no on a serious note, why do we feel these people, yes they are people like you and me whether they be athletes, celebrities, the kid who walks your dog or your mum and dad aren’t capable of making monumental mistakes?

Have we become that much of a politically correct society that anything deemed questionable should come with a warning label stating you will be judged and looked down on for all eternity should you proceed. We all love social media but has anyone here read George Orwell’s classic 1984? Well yeah it’s happening people, no matter what you do, where you are, big brother is always watching. Except in our case big brother just happens to be every man and his dog with a smartphone.

I feel for parents these days, it must be tough, your child can be an absolute arsehole and you can’t even give them a little smack to bring them into line without the fear of being branded with the child abuse tag, whilst they continue to runaround terrorising the neighbourhood. Anyways bringing things back on track…

In the case of our cricketers it just so happened to be a curious cameraman trying to confirm whether rumours of Cameron Bancroft’s nickname Donkey were true or not. I’m still questioning why he lingered so long on Cam’s crotch and apparently so is his wife. So our captain does the right thing and falls on the sword, he takes his VC along with him and the perpetrator of the whole event just so happens to get less time in exile than both of them.

Maybe it just that we (Society) thought our cricketers, not all just our Australian team were above such acts. We are Australia we don’t need to cheat, we have some of the best players in the world. I mean we know our league boys like to pee into their own mouths and defecate in pot plants or pretend to have sex with dogs and cause a downright ruckuss. While our AFL boys just like the marching powder a little too much and try swimming across the Swan river in an attempt to escape the police and the union guys well they are just private school pest who haven’t grown up. But our cricketers no they are saints, they are the good boys of aussie sport, they don’t have guys who try to set records for the most amount of beers drank on a flight between Australia and England or drug test that come back positive for banned substances. No they are the darlings of Australian sport…

No they are not, if you’ve read some of the books published by former cricketing greats they were just as bad as everyone else. They had fun, they were successful and we loved them for it. The difference being back then we loved a jokester and we enjoyed the on and off field antics of our sportsmen. Nowadays they need to be setting a good example for the kids who sit glued to their ipads or phones from the time they come out of the womb. As they are so impressionable. Put down the bloody technology, go outside and use your damn imagination to come up with something to do.

The facts of the matter are that scandals, like gossip around the water cooler at lunchtime spreads like wildfire. For those in media it also helps to sell news. We make a mountain out of a molehill because it sells papers or in this case sandpaper. Nobody’s infallible, we all make mistakes, we all do things that can be deemed questionable, the difference is we are not in spotlight for the entirety of our professional lives like our athletes. Most people learn from their mistakes and take the second chances they are given with both hands. In the case of some of the Rugby League players they are quite slow at learning that a second chance is a gift don’t be stupid. One concussion too many could be blamed but then again do we really think they are the smartest people?.

As for our three cricketers in exile on the Northern Beaches of NSW in their million dollar plus mansions. They now have plenty of time to lay on the beach counting their cash, while they think about what they have done. I for one wouldn’t mind being put in that naughty corner. Only time will tell whether it has been a valuable lesson for these three lads and whether the Australian community wish to bring them in from the wilderness. One thing is for sure we won’t be winning a lot of games over the next 12 months and Cricket Australia will have every sandpaper company knocking on their door with offers of endorsements.

Australia is no stranger to a sporting scandal from fingers up bums to salary cap cheats to sleeping with your teammates wife. It’s safe to say that when it comes to sport it doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from. At some point the elation, excitement and thrill that comes from winning could drive you to do something stupid just to get that rush, that feeling one more time. As Australian’s we might feel we often dominate on the field but we are all susceptible to one thing. Being human and being human we will all make mistakes at some point in our lives..

I must have been sleeping for a lot of the last few years, sport has eradicated the larrikins, hollywood has outed the perverted and the politicians just keep racking up the frequent flyer points on the way to see there lovers and somewhere along the way the Emily seabomb became a term of endearment amongst friends or a joke by the northern territory tourism office to bring in unsuspecting travellers to the crocodile infested waters of Darwin.

So to all those aspiring athletes out there, don’t do anything stupid around anyone with a phone, camera or any piece of technology and if you need to put yourself on a social media ban in case you are inclined to say something, or do something that may upset someone because we all know someone will get offend in our modern PC Society. Actually if i was a professional athlete my advice would be unless you are competing just stay at home and become a hermit. People can’t even go to the shops in their ugg boots anymore without someone scoffing and judging them or getting upset at the sheep that was slaughtered for your feet to be comfortable warm.

In some ways living in a politically correct society is inspiring and refreshing. The LGBT and I am sure I am missing some letters in their community can now legally marry. Campaigns like MeeToo are empowering women to speak out about sexually harassment and assualt, R U Ok empowers all of us who are struggling to speak and yet we all feel we need to judge and look down on not only those in the spotlight but those around us who do something wrong. We don’t even try to understand why or let them explain we just come down on them like a ton of bricks.

Until next time, be good, be nice and try to be a little less judgemental of our overpaid athletes 😉 Thanks for reading, The team at A Mind of its Own…

Boogie Fever…

Where’s my dancing socks, cause me and the boys are going for a boogie. Two blogs in one week! How lucky are you guys! I couldn’t miss the opportunity to talk you all through the opening ceremony. With the games now in full flight it was only fitting the team at A Mind of its Own reviewed the tragic events of the night.

Toted to be the best opening ceremony ever to be held in Australia the Commonwealth Games did not disappoint. Ah well it did… Let’s be honest I wasn’t the only person sitting there in the first five minutes ashamed to be an Australian and questioning whether I was watching the opening ceremony or sitting in a year eight geography lesson. That being said it was visually stunning and I hope sitting in the stands at Carrara Stadium that those lucky enough to have $495 to waste on a ticket could see the same thing I watching from the comfort of my home with a cold, full strength beer.

The continuation of cringe worthy incidents that will only further shame the backwards and somewhat Bogan ways of the Gold Coast kept coming throughout the evening. With the Marathon not scheduled for a few days viewers can rest assured they didn’t miss anything too spectacular as they dozed off during the 4 hours of mind numbing and often confusing performances. Ok they did miss a few things.

The opening ceremony was doomed from the start, the first bad omen happened when tickets were printed with the wrong day. Not only were they printed but several hundred were sent out to proud recipients before this error was realised. This was then followed by yet another beautiful blunder in the official program when England was listed as an African nation. I’m sure our once masters would have been please to be placed amongst one of their colonies with which they gathered slave labour before distributing it throughout the world.

But we weren’t done just yet, the opening skit took us to the beautiful beaches of the Gold Coast where 3 surfers questioned whether aliens existed. Like most of the nation and the millions of viewers who had tuned in around the globe this complete and utter rubbish left me scratching my head wondering what in fact it had to do with the games. From there we were transported to our year eight geography class. Only to have Migaloo destroy Australia. And here I was thinking we’d be invaded by China or at least nuked by the North Koreans but no our nation is squashed by a white humpback whale. Safe to say we are not off to a good start and many of us are still shaking our heads and cringing in embarrassment as our nation is showcased around the globe.

Christina Anu comes on next and lip syncs her way through ‘My Island Home’ while getting up her ten thousand steps for the day. Once this is done we finally see some decent performances as the true owners of this land break out the didgeridoo and showcase their culture for our guest. We probably should have started with this traditional performance, half the audience might still be awake at this point. I bet right about now those people in the stands are starting to think there $400 odd dollars were best spent elsewhere. Some poor chick loses her bikini bottoms in the middle of gold coast local Ricki-Lee’s performance and with 100 of towels and performers around her you’d think someone would help the poor girl out. Nope she’s left to fend for herself as investigations are launched into what will now be known as arsegate.

Both verses of the National anthem were sung leaving many to mumble their way through the second verse as a lot of Australian found out for the first time in their lives that our anthem is a lot longer than what they thought. If it wasn’t so late at night I am sure many a child would have rocked up to school this morning questioning their teachers why they hadn’t been taught about the second verse. Oh that’s right it’s Australian to shorten everything. Why didn’t we just sing the usual short version. Then again if we had of done that we wouldn’t of got to see families in the Rydges pool laying on pool noodles or the local tradies down the pub after a hard days yakka.

We finally get to the team’s themselves only for us to realise there are a crap load of nation’s to get through and that Britain was once a powerhouse of this world. Shame they didn’t think of that before Brexit. Scotland enters first and the nation has a good laugh when Channel Seven commentator Tamsyn Lewis says to no one in particular “You always love it when the Scots come out in their kilts, don’t you?”

So we get through all the nation’s and again have a laugh once more laugh when Tonga walks out to ‘I touch myself’ pretty sure they would of had no idea, nor what the song was about. The Aussie finally emerge led by Captain Courageous himself Mark Knowles. He leads from the front for part of a lap before disappearing into the pack to hangout with rest of the athletes as they slow wave to the 35,000 strong crowd in attendance.

I don’t know whether it was before or during the teams coming out that we lost Camilla the duchess of somewhere, let’s just call her Charles’s shag. It didn’t help that after all the team’s were finally in the stadium that the honorable Peter Beattie rabbited on. If I was Camilla’s shoes I would have been reading Ok Magazine as well to see who wore it better between Megan Markle and Kate Middleton.

While all this is going on we are still waiting for the baton to make its way to the ceremony, the somewhat Dyson looking stick has us all wondering how long it will be before Dyson lodge a patent suit against the Commonwealth Games Committee for ripping off one of their products. The relay runner’s might have appreciated it a little more if they had of got the cool air technology functioning before the event. Finally the golden girl of the pool enters the stadium with the Queen’s Dyson in hand, Susie O’Neill then proceeds to do the slowest lap in the history of the commonwealth games of the stadium before handing it over to some giant girl. Oh wait that’s former Australian netball captain Liz Ellis for all those playing at home.

The Queens Dyson is then handed over, where a couple of oldies try to open it while looking for the instruction manual to get Lizzy’s message out only to have a kid pop out of nowhere to show them how it’s done. Again another product that it not user-friendly unless you are a millennial or younger. Not sure why Lizzy couldn’t have just given the message to Charles and Camilla but I guess tradition is tradition and the producer did need to fill another couple of minutes.

By now even the athletes are fading fast, the canteen has run out of beer, hot chips and meat pies and all the spectators are not looking forward to getting back to their cars only to discover some derelict from the back of Nerang has cashed in on all these cars parked in the one place and scores himself a couple of fist fulls of assorted change and you’re having to pay for a new window. The ad almost writes itself for MasterCard, Opening ceremony ticket $495, new car window $400, seeing that poor girls bum live before it’s beamed around the globe = priceless.

Unfortunately folks we are still not done yet, with the games now officially open, we better have some more song and dance and who better than Delta Goodrem to come out fitting in perfect to the gold coast scene as she prance’s around Carrara Stadium without and shoes. We can forgive baton bearer Damien Ryder he was at least running on the beach for most part of his relay but Delta what’s your excuse? We thought you were better than that. Surrounded by big burly blokes for all the ladies out there thinking this is what your typical gold coast male looks like, i hate to be the bearer of bad news those were Delta’s dancers.

Are we done? I think we are finally done, i think we’ve come to an end and the athletes can head back to the village and pump the stilnox, EPO and whatever other performance enhancing drugs they dispose of in the bins around the village. The spectators can jump back on the buses to sit in traffic for hours on end and those of us at home we can retire to our beds to wish it all away as though it was a bad dream.

Safe to say that this was not our best effort and it will be undoubtedly remembered for bare bums, weird skits, geography lessons, lip syncing, no shoes, boring the royals and down right fuck ups. Sportsbet are actually taking bets and I kid you not as to what the next screw up of the games will be.

If you are venturing out to watch some of the events, or sitting in the comfort of your own home with a cold frothy enjoy and until next time. It can only get better from here.

A Mind of Its Own…

What ever happened to the DJ?

Disclaimer – Like all my blogs the title has nothing to do with the content…

Not all writing is easy or comes naturally, I for one can safely say that I often struggle to put my thoughts down and articulate what I am thinking. This week at A Mind of its Own we went to the public for ideas of what our next installment should be. There were some great ideas put forward and the intellects over at Punisher23 Gaming didn’t disappoint with some politically charged suggestions that would require a great deal of investigatory work along with an unbiased opinion in order to give a voice to both sides. Unfortunately I had neither the time nor the unbiased opinion on some of their topics.

Some of the other suggestions were quite comical, while others were just downright crude, lude and too rude for a family friendly blog such as this. What we settled on at A Mind of Its Own was a topic that will take a lot of people outside their comfort zones in terms of what they believe. What is reality and what sits in the land of make believe. When I started A Mind of its own I did say that it literally could and would take on a mind of its own.

So where to start, well that’s a damn good question, I guess we need to start with the truth and how this writer went from ignorant and disbelieving because he didn’t understand nor did he want to understand to finally getting a insight into something I thought was total and utter bullshit to put it bluntly. Yoga, meditation, himalayan salts… To me it was all hippy crap. If i wanted any of that business I would be living in Nimbin smoking weed and having a great old time.

It’s no great secret I suffer anxiety and depression like so many others in the world. I battled with it for a long time before finally accepting it and seeking some help. It took me even longer to own it and talk about it with friends and family. Let’s face it despite social media and all the charities and organisations focussed on mental health and wellbeing we and I am referring to men here are still somewhat living in the past where it’s not ok to talk about your feelings or ask for some help. It is still perceived that doing so is weak and makes you less of a man.

Once I finally owned it and was able to speak up about it, I was also able to open myself up to trying new things. Yes I needed a little shove in the right direction from time to time and there is still a part of me that looks at things and questions the sanity in even trying them but the more I discover and learn the more I am open to trying new things when it comes to improving my mental health.

You could say that’s what lead me down the path of starting A Mind of its Own and writing this particular piece. Through trying new things I found that meditation allows me to process my thoughts, calming my mind allowing me to not have a torrent of thoughts bouncing around in my head like a pinball machine. It also lead me to explore consciousness and the effects mental health has on our conscious mind and our subconscious. Safe to say like Alice I went down the rabbit hole on this one. My discovery was some super cool scientist, who have a theory of everything and some explanations to questions I have been asking for years.

Everyday people are diagnosed with Anxiety, Depression, Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia, Attention-deficit, hyperactivity disorder, post traumatic stress disorder and obsessive compulsive disorder. These are just to name a few of the so called mental illnesses that have been diagnosed, documented and neglected in my opinion by western medicine over the years. By neglected I mean explained away as though there is something wrong with the person and the only way to treat it is through a lobotomy or drugs that make you so docile people question whether you are actually alive or part of the zombie apocalypse.

In the past we would throw anyone showing signs of mental illness into an asylum and allow the doctors to conduct atrocious experiments on them in what they would call “research” and development of ways to treat mental illness. It’s funny you say the words mental and illness together and watch the reactions on peoples faces around you. Like people with mental illnesses have a death sentence or some highly contagious disease.

Funny how a little ignorance and a lot of misunderstanding can go a long way to helping people form an opinion of those who suffer from Anxiety, Depression and various other mental illnesses. Funny thing this they are just like you and I, they have good days and bad days. Chances are there bad days a lot worse than yours though. People who suffer a mental illness have absolutely nothing wrong with them. In fact I’ll go as far to say that they feel more than your average Joe. They are in touch with the emotions where most people are not and are very intuitive.

As I said like Alice I went down the rabbit hole on this one, you can partly thank my wife and the other part is inquisitive nature. As a kid I would pull things apart to see how they worked. Mind you I could never get them back together and when I did it’s safe to say they weren’t in working order. Much to my mother’s frustration. I can’t pull apart my brain to see how it’s wired and I am not even close to being a neurosurgeon. That left me with one option, question everything, research the hell out of it and write it all down.

Now before this goes any further I am going to ask you to hear me out and reserve all judgement till the very end. Thanks to my father in law I came across a physicist named Tom Campbell. Now Tom just happened to write a book that peaked my interest well it was actually a three book series. The series being My Big T.O.E or My Big Theory of Everything. It was these books that started my exploration and want to understand more and more.

I mean the guy used to design missiles for a defence contractor and through meditation ended up writing a book about the physical and non-physical world and working with some of the world top minds to study consciousness why wouldn’t I continue to read on and try to understand his thoughts and theories on where this took take us.

So diving in like an olympic swimmer I started my exploration albeit rudimentary into the world of meditation, astral travel, higher levels of consciousness and looking after my overall mental health. I was like a machine i would exercise every morning, meditate and then head off to work where I would be productive for long hours at a time before coming home and reading more and more into the wonders of the conscious state before discussing with my wife. She was somewhat overjoyed at the fact that she’d started this whole thing and that I was actually interested in learning more about it rather than being an obnoxious arse who laughed every time she spoke about a topic that I thought was hocus pocus nonsense

How does this all relate to Mental Health issues I can hear you asking you yourself?, while others are asking why they’ve bothered to read this far into it, but are now thinking well I’ve come this far I may as well see what the crackpot has to say. Your interest is somewhat peaked though you have to admit. Where’s this all going?

Ok so let’s flip this all on its head… What if people with mental illnesses are the way they are because they are more in touch with their higher consciousness, higher being or whatever else you might like to call it. I’m talking about about our conscious self. Our connection to everything in our physical and non-physical world. There are those who believe we go on from one life to the next. That our conscious being transitions from one body to the next. Some people will call it religion although I have been told not to confuse spirituality or religion with our consciousness. You’ll note that throughout time in every major religion there has not been one female god. Has no one ever questioned that? Before we get side tracked let’s get back on track with our hypothetical about our conscious going from one body (vessel) to the next.

If this be the case, would it not be reasonable to then assume that people with Anxiety, Depression and other mental illnesses could just be more aware of this higher level of consciousness? Are they more connected with everything around them? It’s at this point that you (the reader) start thinking and questioning whether the guy that has written this is all there and whether he himself should be thrown in the looney bin. But just stop and think for a minute about all the times in your life where something has happened and you haven’t been able to explain.

I’ll be honest 5 years ago if someone had of said any of this to me and hinted that the reason I am so anxious all the time is because I am more in tune with the universe and feel everyone else’s pain and thoughts. Yeah I would of called Bullshit there and then. I still to this day question it but then I am reminded through little things that happen on a day to day basis, there are things that science can’t explain or in this case there are plenty of scientist that are working to explain it.

As an example, the other day I was sitting in my favourite chair and I was reminded of a dream I’d had a couple of months earlier. Now this dream was very vivid and I remember my mum and Gary (my step dad) being at my house. I remember what I was doing at the time and I remember the conversation we were having in my dream.

This is where it gets a little freaky… That dream became reality and we actually had that conversation the other day. Deja Vu! How do you explain it! What is it? Well if you talk to the crackpot scientist that are currently studying all this they’ll tell you that it’s a little thing called Astral travel or cross dimension travel. You haven’t gone forward in time to a future that is yet to exist, you are remembering an event from another dimension that is exactly the same as the one you are currently in.

Ok so reading this it does sound a little hokey pokey however if you allow yourself to think about it, this isn’t the first time consciousness has been introduced. Religion, Science Fiction and various other forms have touched on an ongoing consciousness or soul. Many a science fiction writer has written books or screenplays about transferring peoples conscious being from one body to another. Religions talk about coming back in the next life or being reborn.

So back to people who have mental health issues, what if they have already subconsciously tapped into a higher level of consciousness and what they are experiencing is not actually anxiety, depression of other mental health illness but an awakening of their being? What if they are able to bridge that gap between the physical and non-physical. What if they can understand the universe far better than most people on this earth. Some of the greatest minds on earth suffered mental illness throughout their lives.

To most philosophers the word consciousness connotes the relationship between the mind and the world. To writers of the the spiritual or religious realm it connotes the relationship between mind and god. Being that I am not religious and my thoughts on consciousness fall closer to the philosophers take I have to tend to agree that it is the relationship between the mind and everything around us.

There are two things that can be taken from this, are there actually higher levels of consciousness that allow us to understand and feel everything around us? And do those who suffer mental illness have an inside track to opening up those higher levels of consciousness?

I could continue writing and writing on this topic or anything really to do with mental health as I’ve taken it on my own shoulders to be a voice for those who can not or do not want to speak up but still feel empowered through others being able to stand up and say hey yeah I am a suffer! So what?

That being said if you get a chance to read it or prefer an audiobook Tom Campbell’s My Big T.O.E is available of Amazon and Audible. Or if you are a complete tight arse there is a PDF copy floating around somewhere that you can do google up yourself a copy.

Until next week enjoy the journey and hit us up on instagram!

The wonderful team at A Mind of its Own…

The Final Countdown…

No this isn’t another blog about music or the band Europe who created a classic in The Final Countdown. Finally something magical is coming to the Gold Coast and no it’s not another plastic surgeon, professional footballer who’ll hang around for a season or another attempt at creating a professional sporting team who will only ever be mid table finishers at best.

With only four days to go before the biggest event to come to the Gold Coast since star-dust circus graced the shores for Burleigh beach. The team (A guy sitting behind his laptop all on his own) here at A Mind of it’s Own thought we should get into the Games spirit and hangout with a blue Koala with a weird sounding name and have a look at what’s going to happen over the next two weeks.

Firstly TV’s in households across the national will be tuned to channel 7 and only channel 7, allowing the nation to forget our recent cricketing shame. The only ball tampering going on will be the adjustment of the crown jewels as men lower themselves into couches and settle in the for the duration of the games with an iconic Australian beer. For the Queenslander it’ll no doubt be a XXXX, the Welshman will have their NEW, the dirty Mexicans have a variety of choices but it would be disappointing not to see they sipping on a stubbie of VB. The South Aussies can’t go past a Coopers the west Aussie will be hitting the Swan lager and the rest of the nation well depends what’s in the fridge I guess.

While the rest of Australia gets set for their couches to finally discover butt indents while they glue themselves to the TV for two weeks watching athletes in tight-fitting clothes romp around the Gold Coast like a bad episode of the bachelor. The residents of Gold Coast are preparing for their lives to be turned upside down. With the roads in and around the Gold Coast already bumper to bumper outside of peak hour the added pressure of the Games and closure of roads will make getting anywhere a nightmare for the 2 weeks of competition.

So travelling to the games might become an episode of the greatest race and I look forward to hearing how it goes for all those venturing into the heartland of Games activity as they try to get a look at the Aussie athletes battling it out with the rest of the Commonwealth nations. There’ll be nations no one knows or has heard of like Kiribati or New Zealand and the Gold Coast will see people from all walks of life visiting to watch some expensive event while they pay two times the usual rate at a three star hotel out the back of Nerang.

So the statistics well we don’t have any all we can tell you is like any other event where there are both male and female athletes the games committee have invested heavily in condoms and safe sex promotions for the village. They are warning locals and tourists to plan their travel and prepare for delays. They’ve built some new venues and even made a dedicated lane for athletes and officials on certain roads throughout the GC. We’ve literally done zero research on this one ladies and gentleman, well that’s a lie we research what events were taking place next to the actual sports that people will want to see.

The long list of sports has been profiled one by one to give you an overview so you know what you are watching from comfort of your own house and we’ve given you the names of some of the athletes or participants to watch as recommend to us by the official games guide. One thing we do know for sure, there will be an influx of selfies on instagram around some of GC’s iconic places and a lot of overseas people holding Koalas and patting poor old Skippy meanwhile scaring him to within an inch of his life. The things out wildlife do to satiate our tourist industry.

Regardless of what you decide to watch over the next couple of weeks it has once again sparked an age-old debate that has raged in local drinking holes across Australia over the years. Is it a sport? Well here at A Mind of It’s Own we’ve settled that questions for you the reader.

Athletics – Event

With iconic events such as the frisbee toss, spear throw, gate jumping, ball and chain toss circle walking and reverse limbo why wouldn’t you want to come along and watch these modern-day hunters show their skills. They’ll show you how they can run, jump and throw things at imaginary animals taking us right back to the days of ancient Greece where they lubed each other to show who was the best warrior. Keep an eye out for that guy from Melbourne with the abnormally large calves and that girl from Sydney that does that little dance before she jumps over the fences. As always the Jamaicans will put on a good show almost like they are chasing after the Red Stripe vendor on the beaches of Port Royal. Either way these hunters turned athletes will be showing us exactly what it used to be like to hunt in the days before firearms.

Badminton – Sport

Like many people we’ve become perplexed by this sport, it’s a cross between tennis and volleyball. It raises the question as to whether this game was invented for those who couldn’t quite manage to make it in either sport. Are they hitting a miniature peacock back and forth over a net? What is that thing it’s like a deformed tennis ball with wings? Going by the age-old adage it’s not a sport unless it involves a ball I can’t tell if i am watching a sport or an event of grunting people trying to hurt miniature animals as they salvo them back and forth across a net.

Basketball – Sport

LeBron, Jordan, Bryant, Curry, Durant, Chamberlain, Westbrook, Duncan, Johnson, Bird and Nowitzki just to name a few. None of these greats of the game will be dunking, alley ooping or hitting fade aways over the two weeks of the games. Safe to say we’ll get see some 3rd string ballers from the Lithuanian premier league. If we are lucky enough the Boomers will have recalled some of their benchwarmers from the NBA to light up Townsville and Cairns, that’s right you heard it here first the Gold Coast Commonwealth Games and you have to venture to Cairns and Townsville to watch a Round Game. The women’s bball will see the likes of Babbage and Jackson back from the WNBA so it might be more thrilling than the men’s as these two big birds show the country that women can indeed dunk…

Beach Volleyball

Sand, surf pounding in the background the iconic Coolangatta overlooking the newly constructed temporary volleyball court. The ultimate perving event for both Men and women. Swimwear, tanned and toned bodies this could just be the sport of the gods. It’s got it all, something for everyone to enjoy. It’s highly competitive, it was in Top Gun and it’s got skimpy little outfits. I for one am sold on the beach volleyball. I’ll apologise to my wife now, I will be watching the volleyball.

 

Boxing – Event

Street fights and bar brawls brought to the masses. Trained fighters who like to punch the snot out of each other. Someone back in the day cashed in on a major marketing opportunity when they realised they could get people to pay to come and watch something they can get in their local pub for free on a Friday night watching Johnny insult Tom’s manlihood, wife or choice of clothing after he’s had a skinful of the amber ale and starts to get a little lippy to one to many patron. The men and women will throw on some gloves, mouthguards and headgear to make it look a little more civilised for the masses but you’ll no doubt still get to see some blood, big hits and knockouts as these professional pub fighters slug it out in the ring for your viewing pleasure.

Cycling – Mountain Bike

Penny Farthings with suspension racing through the hinterlands of the Gold Coast dodging deadly snakes, spiders and whatever else may lurk up there. Well this will be an event to watch. They’ll be hurling down hills and climbing like they are on sections of the tour de france. This is one of three penny farthing events we will see on the Gold Coast over the next two weeks and is sure to attract a big crowd giving the growing participation in the sport of the recent years thanks to its inclusion in the Olympic games. That won’t stop this writer from yelling things like “It’s a push bike, get off and push it!”

Cycling – Road

Unlike the mountain biking this Penny Farthing race will involve laps of the Gold Coasts pristine roads. Who are we kidding the roads are only so good at the moment because they’ve been relaid specifically for this event. Lucky none of it heads onto the M1 we’d have the whole group in the peloton and no break away groups experiencing the true traffic of the Gold Coast as they race around the roads in effort to prove their dominance in the most drug fueled sport in the world. It’s safe to safe that ASADA, WADA and any other anti-doping authorities will be watching this one through a microscope and the intake of peeing in cups will rise quickly after the conclusion of this event.

Cycling – Track

The Nascar of cycling, whether it be individual or team pursuit my favourite part of any track cycling is watching these guys stack. Sad and not every nice i know but having experienced a velodrome stack myself I know how much it hurts and also how funny it looks from the outside looking in as someone replays your crash to you, over and over cackling the whole time.

Diving

Jumping off a platform into a pool of water, well safe to say this is another sport where the stacks are spectacular. The slap of skin as it hits the water after an ill timed tuck or attempted triple somersault can make even the manliest of blokes squirm as they imagine themselves being that person. Credit where credit is due though these guys put life and limb on the line as they push themselves to do something sillier than their last attempt all because they are judged on difficulty and application.

Gymnastics Artistic

The bitchiest sport at the Commonwealth Games… As highlighted in thousands of movies over the years it’s not called Gymnicetics. Well that being said the things these athletes put themselves through just to get on the squad is well who knows really but we are looking forward to the vault, tramp, rings and bars as athletes hurtled themselves at the apparatuses in an attempt to get perfect scores for their team or as an individuals. Coles and Woolworths close to the events have stocked up on hairspray and glitter incase teams didn’t get their buses full of the junk through customs but no doubt the athletes will need a little top up of hairspray to ensure there isn’t a strand of hair out-of-place or there leotards start riding up.

Gymnastics Rhythmic – Event

I can only take a pot shot at this like tin cans on the fence and Pa’s old 22 shoulder ready to have a crack. I’m assuming the difference is Rhythmic contains all the floor events like the bowling ball, ribbons and clap sticks. Again this will be a hairspray fueled event with the change rooms become like brown paper bags at Coomera train station on a Thursday afternoon as the kids wait to head home. My only hope is that through all the events we hear the dulcet tones of one Rampaging Roy Slaven and H.G Nelson commentating. Nothing like seeing a battered Sav, Sausage roll and whatever other hard moves these athletes perform in their quest for gold on the big stage.

Hockey – Sport

Ah the sport of women… What? Only women play field hockey right? How many male hockey players have coped this through the years from their mates or obnoxious bullies in the school yard. Yes here in Australia the Hockeyroos had the limelight for years having won Olympic gold but the Kookaburras have managed to bridge that gap in the last decade as we’ve developed some greats of the sport who will go down in history. With many of the top ten nations involved in the Commonwealth Games the hunt for the gold medal will be hotly contested in both the men and women’s competition. There are so many big names to watch out for we could almost to an article just on the hockey. We’ll just throw you some of the Aussies to watch. Watch out for Bone, Fey and the little pocket rocket and captain from Crookwell NSW Emily Smith. Over on the men’s side watch out for Whetton, Beale, Govers (Blake not Keiran) and retiring legend of the game Mark Knowles. The English and Indian’s will put on a good show and this particular writer is interested in watching the Scottish boys Bain, McIntyre and the Forsyth brothers battle it out as I reminisce about coaching them when I was a wee lad myself.

Lawn bowls – Sport

Forced out of retirement to participate, half the competitors in this event drag the overall average age up but what they lack in youth they certainly make up for in their ability to get their balls closest to the jack. For your information the Jack is not a man and they are not playing some sick perverted game it’s that little white ball they aim at with their big black balls. Hmmm actually this isn’t sounding very good as i type this out. Besides that the oldies enjoy it and will be missing there midi, pot or pony of mid strength at the far end of the green for the next two weeks. One thing we do know, it won’t be this gang in trouble at the end of the games for trashing in the village…

Netball – Sport

The game that makes women want to pash the blokes, makes them want to tell dirty jokes, netball, netball. What a game, tall chicks in skirts jumping around a court throwing a ball to each other before trying to shoot it into a little ring, scratching and gouging each other. It’s non contact they say… Have you ever seen a netball game? Those chicks are hard-core, they make rugby players look soft and funnily enough a lot of them date footballers, I wonder who wears the pants in those relationships. People to watch ahhh well for that we’ve had to research the interweb and trust google is giving us a fair indication of who’s who in the netball zoo. There is ex-swans full forward Kurt Tippetts sister Gretel, she’s almost as tall if not taller than him and her ankles are a lot sturdier and her close mate Kimberley Ravaillion and some english bird Helen Housby. All recommended by google as some of the top competitors at the commonwealth games to watch. It would also have to be one of the only sports at the Commonwealth games where there is not a single male competitor. You can be guaranteed though there’ll be plenty in the stands though cheering the ladies on as they battle it out for Commonwealth gold.

Rugby Sevens – Sport

The scaled down version of the apparent game played in Heaven. Who doesn’t want to watch a bunch of blokes as they shove their heads up each others backsides and squirrel grip each other as they try to form a slack attempt at a scrum with not enough players. They’ll have rolling mauls and rucks and one man line-out? It’ll be fast, fun and furious and with both the Australian Men and Women’s teams dominating the tournaments around the world recently they are sure to go into the games as hot favourites for the gold. Google has instructed our research team that the convicts need to watch the mother country as they once again look to assert some dominance over the colonies. With household names like Caslick, Williams, Green and Staples in the women’s team and Anderson, Killingworth and Longbottom taking the paddock for the men we are sure to see some rugby worthy of being in heaven,

Shooting

Time to dust off the old musket and pace out the steps, grab grandpa’s double barrel and oil it up finally a sport for those who don’t feel comfortable with a racquet, bat or stick in their hands. Animals make way for paper targets and clay pigeons as these farmers turned athlete’s for the next two weeks find themselves on the big stage amongst all the city folk as they try to visual the perfect shot in which they’ll win a gold medal that will find a home in their gun safe with all there guns and bullets. People to watch out for? Ah is that Michael Diamond fella still about or has he been arrested again?

Squash

The sport of the advertising community, a game in which you can picture middle-aged men standing around in their short shorts smoking a Winfield Blue talking business before stepping into the court where game faces drop and goggles are put on for the match ahead. Who would have thought smashing a little rubber ball against a wall would become a sport but like many other events at this years Commonwealth Games it has. A game formally dominated by India a recent google search lead me to the Dunlop Professional Squash Association World Rankings and it’s the Egyptians and English you have to watch out for. Poor old Australians rank mid to late teens that being said it could be a battle of Ashes come the Gold medal match and I’m not sure who we should tell you to watch out for in this event.

Swimming

The creme de la creme of survival sports not sure how this ever became a sport but it did, as far as this writer is concerned it’s a survival skill. If you don’t swim you drown plain and simple but somewhere we as human beings with a competitive streak managed to turn it into a sport. Two guys in a river “hey mate if we don’t swim we will drown how about we race to the other side?” “You are on old chap”… We then expanded it and decided we needed to challenge ourselves and throw in long and longer distances and breed fish instead of humans. So the sport of swimming was born and many a little fish was made to swim laps in their local pee infested pool as their dreams of gold grew.

Table Tennis – Sport

This will be the slowed down version of the game without the chinese, Taiwanese and well most of the Asian countries involved. Our only hope is for one of the colonised countries to come to our add and grace us with a future champion of the game. Played in caravan parks, garages, games rooms and around the world most Australians have taken to the alcohol fueled version of this game that involves throwing the little white ball into cups filled with alcohol in order to make your opposing team drink. Unfortunately due to the spirit of the games or some crap like that we won’t be seeing any competitive drinking events until after the games have officially closed.

Triathlon – Event

The ultimate event showcasing survival skills at their best, there’s a bit of running some swimming and the racing of the modern-day penny farthing all combined into the one event. This event will showcase the amazing beaches of the gold coast along with some roads what more could you want. Watch out for the likes of Snowsill, Curry-kenny oh wait I think they’ve both retired. You might have to consult google to check out who is still on the circuit these days.

Weightlifting

As if going to gym isn’t bad enough already we’ve given the roid ragers an excuse to get in their and throw the weights around as they look at themselves in the mirrors. Trying to best each other as they load up more and more weight on the bar to out lift each other and put strain on their necks, shoulders and backs that they will pay for later in life these men and woman eat sleep and breathe protein powder. I don’t know what it is but weightlifting often reminds me of those two guys from the circus who wear leopard lift one should leotards and have sweet moustaches and are ridiculous strong. Unfortunately it’s not that comical or entertaining as we watch athletes, strain, grunt and try not to fart as they lift 100s of kilos to out lift their competitors.

Wrestling – Event

Guys in tights hugging each other on the ground if there was ever an event to be championed by the LGBT community this would be it. Throw in some jelly and beers and you’ve got yourself a best seller. All of Gold Coast will be there trying to be in the ring, circle or whatever it is that try to pin each other down on to get a win. Unfortunately there is no jelly just the skin-tight lycra and silly little helmets to protect their ears. Holding on by the skin of it’s teeth this could be the last time you see wrestling at a Commonwealth games let alone an Olympics. Who watches wrestling?

So to all those arm chair athletes out there, we hope you enjoy the games and remember we are only taking the mickey. All of the above mentioned sports have their place and all have famous athletes who we here at A Mind of It’s Own respect highly. Thanks for reading and until next time peace out!

Extract – Fire for Effect

The follow is an extract from my Book Fire for Effect, an Action thriller that I’ve been passionately working on for the past couple of years. I’m almost at the point where I am ready to get it edited and make the final changes before publishing. Anyways I hope you enjoy and it leaves you wanting to read more.

 

Enjoy and look out for the next installment of A Mind of it’s Own coming this week…

Catherine Collins head rolled from side to side taking blow after blow from the Pakistani she’d nicknamed sneakers. He’d become quite fond of dishing out punishment on a regular basis over the last few days since they’d arrived from the cave in Afghanistan. She had no idea where she was or how they had moved her. At night when she wasn’t being handed a dose of backhands and blows to her body, when all was quiet waves could be heard crashing against a cliff before retreating back into the sea. She’d traced various routes in her mind to keep herself busy and assumed they’d moved down through Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Yemen and across the water to Somalia where she knew her Al-Qaeda captors had plenty of fans, followers and Muslim extremists friends to hide them from the world. That was her best guess given she knew that the agency would have people out looking for her. There would be bounties placed on the heads of anyone she’d come into contact with over the past 12 months with ties to Al-Qaeda. At night when she was listening to the water pound at the rocks below as it had done for centuries she heard the low whispering’s of the guards, Catherine thought she was starting to lose it when she heard what sounded like Russian accents chatting away outside her cell.

Sneakers continued to give her the good news as blood and spittle exploded from her mouth as her head snapped around to the right with the connection of  the back of his hand to her cheek. With her left eye swelling shut, her lips starting to crack and dry blood dotting her body she was physically in bad shape. Catherine’s pretty face now looked like a plastic surgery gone wrong. She was thankful that she still had all her teeth, fingers and toes.

Finally sneakers let up cutting her free from the rope that had been keeping her upright suspended in a stress position. This particular position had been criticized around the world for being used in renditions to create discomfort, pain and finally muscle failure during interrogations as a way of extracting information. Collapsing to her knees she wet herself, thankful to feel the warmth as her own urine trickled down her legs. Moments later her body shut down and she was out cold lying in puddle of urine and blood. The two mixed together swimming their way through grouting of the tiles beneath her as they flowed towards a drain in the middle of the room.

Cold water hit her naked body sending a reaction across her skin like she was being poked with thousands of pins, shocked and now awake, the water made the cuts stung and heightened the pain of the swelling beneath the bruises. Shivering her body covered itself in goosebumps, the bodies natural method of trying to retain warmth. She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging herself in an attempt to conserve warmth. Bucket after bucket of ice cold water rained over her before running down her legs and pooling beneath her. She watched as the water turned a brown translucent color as the dried blood flaked from her skin and mixed with the water. As soon as it had started it felt like it was over and she was once again left sitting in a darkened room.

Catherine crawled around on all fours, feeling her way around the room as she waited for the one eye she could open to adjust to the little light filtering into the room. She’d been moved to a room with a drain in the middle of the floor that was tiled from floor to ceiling. Her clothes had been taken and they had bucketed her in cold water, they were cleaning her up. Her mind worked at light speed processing what this meant in between each burst of pain coming from her leg. Was this the end? Would she be sat down in front of a video camera and beheaded like the video clips she had seen on CNN, Al Jazeera and every news station around the globe.

Continuing to crawl around she found fresh clothes in the opposite corner to where she had started. She sniffed them recognizing the lavender smell most likely from washing powder. She pulled on the track pants and hoodie which was 3 sizes too big for her and draped past her waist covering her bum. Pulling the hood up to cover her head she giggled to herself thinking back to her childhood where she had hooded up to keep the world outside at bay letting the darkness envelop her. Sitting in the corner she gazed across at what she now recognized as the door due to slither of light fighting its way in between the bottom of the door and the floor. The sight in her right eye had adjusted to enough to the ambient light filtering into the room. Looking around the room objects began to take shape. From her surroundings Catherine was able to make out that she was in a wine cellar, empty wine racks hang from the roof above her, she could just make out the marks on the floor where racks had been dragged out through the door gouging the tiles as they were dragged across them.

Sitting still she opened her mouth slightly to block out any internal noises allowing her to concentrate on the sounds emanating from outside the door. Once again she heard the sounds of waves crashing against a cliff but this time the addition of squawks could be heard  most likely from seagulls as they flew overhead. For over an hour Catherine sat listening and concentrating on the sounds around her. The only other sound she heard was the heavy footsteps of the guards pacing the corridor outside her cell. Counting in blocks of 60 she worked out it took roughly 6 minutes for the guards to complete a full lap of the compound. She stored that little nugget of information away for later when it may come in handy. If she got the opportunity to escape she would need to time her movements to those of the guards outside. Tiring again Catherine crawled to a dry corner and curled up into a ball.

It had been 2 months since the convoy she had been travelling in had been ambushed in the foothills of the Hindu Kush. The convoy had been struck swiftly and with the precision of a Special Forces unit. The IEDs that had disabled the column had gone off in unison disabling the first and last vehicle in the column blocking in the remaining vehicles while the ground units swarmed over them. There were casualties, as well as a lot of cuts, bumps, bruises. Some of the support elements had been taken out of the fight before it even began. She replayed the events in her mind. The soldiers that had taken her had to be special forces she was sure of it  the more she remembered. They moved weapons pressed into their shoulders , muzzles up searching for targets, treading softly around the cars while searching for something, someone, searching for her. She had blacked out as they had ripped her from the vehicle. But the knife, the knife that had cut her seat belt played over and over in her mind as she slowly drifted off to sleep. A Karambit but not just any Karambit she’d seen it before she just couldn’t remember where.

She woke to the sound of the door opening, the hinges protesting as the door swung inwards.. Balling herself up in the corner Catherine waited to be given her daily treatment from sneakers. She had no idea how long she had been asleep. The footsteps of three men indicated their entrance to the room, opening her eye slowly she caught a glimpse of sneakers in his usual attire, Adidas shoes, pants and an urban camouflage anorak. The two other men were dressed in boots, jeans tight tee shirts and black leather jackets. They looked like mobsters with their slicked back hair and gold jewelry hanging around their necks.

The three men approached as she tried to press herself further into the tiles in an attempt to escape their grip. As they moved closer she could smell the stench of cigarette smoke and their foul breath as they pulled and grabbed at her, bringing her to her feet before them. Sneakers balled his fist and thrust out with a jab to the abdomen. His two new friends scolded him, pulling Catherine to her feet once again. Directing him to lead the way, the two mobsters dragged Catherine from the room. She let her head bobble from side to side taking in as much as she could without letting on that she was gathering information of her surroundings.

They moved up a flight of stairs arriving in a massive dining room with round tables arranged all lined up against large plate glass windows that looked out over the black sea. In the middle of the dining room a man and woman sat alone at a table. Eating a meal of what looked like fresh crab, washing it down with glasses of champagne. Sneakers pulled out a seat for her at the table with the man and woman and shoved her into it before nodding at the couple. He turned on his heals and marched back down the stairs with his mobster mates in tow. Catherine  was poured a glass of water by a woman in traditional afghan dress who appeared out of nowhere and began serving her a plate of traditional flat bread and dipping sauces. Pulling the plate close Catherine ate slowly at first with her head down not wanting to look at the couple seated less than a meter away dining like they were the king and queen of a castle.

Hunger soon overwhelmed her body and she started shoveling in mouthfuls of bread  washing it down with glasses of water. A tall man appeared dressed in full BDU’s he was a medic. Catherine identified the red cross on the shoulder patch. He was also Russian if she was to believe the flag patch adorning the other arm. He strolled towards the table a medical pack slung over one shoulder. Pulling out a chair he sat opposite Catherine and began looking her over before opening his pack and rummaging through it. First thing out of the pack a penlight that he shined directly into her good eye before trying to open the heavily swollen and bruised eye. The stethoscope was next checking her breathing and pulse before he finally removed steri-strips and a small scalpel laying them on the table. The sight of the scalpel cause Catherine to fidget in the chair as she tried to draw away from the Medic. Now finished in his bag he reached across and pulled Catherine’s chair closer to him. Slowly and methodically he dabbed at each cut and abrasion with antiseptic soaked gauze cleaning them thoroughly to remove any foreign objects.

Checking the swelling around her eye he cut it like a boxer would to relieve some of the swelling before again reaching into the bag and removing a syringe in which he injected into her brow a shot of local anesthetic to numb the area. He swabbed the cut and pulled the skin tightly together before using the steri-strips to keep it together.

Now done with his check he placed everything back in his bag. As he got up to leave he pulled a second syringe from his pocket and stabbed her in the arm pushing down the plunger to inject the brown liquid into her bloodstream. He gave it a minute or two before speaking.

“You’ve been injected with SP-117, my bosses are going to ask you some questions you should have no trouble telling them the truth now as it is highly effective”. With that he turned and left the room.

For Catherine the world started crashing in around her. The room started to spin and the man and woman sitting at the table with her went in and out of focus  before blurring completely. The Russian truth serum was now well and truly coursing through her veins. Trying to keep a grip on her mind, she could feel a darkness creeping over her. The man stood and walked towards her, he went in out of focus as he approached.

Pulling out the chair in front of her he sat and moved his face within inches of hers. Smiling he watched as her pupils dilated trying to focus and sharpen the image in front of them. The powerful drug was taking effect. He leaned in even further before speaking.

“I’m am Yuri Bin Laden and this is my wife Fatima, you may of know her father? You pigs gunned him down in his sleep while his wife and children lay within meters of him. Your country is the reason you sit before me and you will tell us everything we need to know! I warn you now my wife can be very persuasive if you do not tell me what I want to know, do you understand?”

Her words appeared to come out slow and slurred but she couldn’t make out whether it was actually happening or that was the drugs making her think it “I do understand, what do you want with me and where am I?”

“You are in Europe, but where you will never know, you can try and escape but it if do know this, no one will know where you are or that you have gone from this world”.

“What do you want from me?” she said once again, this time defiance rising up in her voice.

“See you are catching on Catherine” he smiled knowing that he had caught her off guard knowing her real name.

“That’s not my name, my name is…” he cut her off raising a hand to silence her before she could finish the rest of her sentence.

“You are CIA are you not? Catherine Collins born September 2nd 1986 in Bay City Michigan, attended Bay City Central School before accepting a scholarship to Columbia University, that’s where your file became a little thin but it pays to have friends in high places, should I go on?”

“What do you want with me? I haven’t done anything wrong!” he looked at her with hatred in his eyes, raising a hand to slap her, she flinch into the chair, pleased with the result he continued on.

“Recruited into the CIA fresh out high school you spent a further 3 years after completing your degree in language schools and are fluent in Farsi, Pashto and Arabic as well as mandarin and Cantonese, All very impressive I must say. Under your alias Lindsay Stone you then joined the NBC as a reporter and were assigned to the Middle East as your language skills gave you an advantage over others at the NBC. Your boyfriend or should I now say ex boyfriend was Navy no? Chief Petty Officer Macintyre Tavish or Mac as he is better known, served aboard the USS Spruance, his jacket is pretty thin but his time serving his country is commendable, not a warrior though perhaps the CIA positioned you in his life, something to do with his role as an intelligence officer? Despite this you provided yourself with a strong cover for what you really are Miss Collins. A Farangi, a spy, infidel and I should wipe you off the face of this earth in the holy name of Allah. I won’t as it is his will that I find out what you know and use that information to do his bidding”.

“What do you want to know?” he asked, aggression and hatred wore across his face as he gazed intently at the woman before him.

Yuri’s wife stood walking around the table to pull out a chair next to them both. She was dressed in traditional Afghan dress that was brightly colored, Catherine giggled as the colors on the dress went in and out of focus creating a psychedelic rainbow of colors before her. She reached out and grabbed Catherine’s hand.

“Catherine we are both women of honor, I serve my husband and honor my father’s wishes in the jihad against the western nations that oppress our people across the Middle East. What Yuri and I would like to know is how much do they know about my father’s wishes and how much do they know about Yuri and I? Can you please tell me??” She pleaded with Catherine in a sorrowful tone.

“You are a beautiful woman and I would not like anything else to happen to that beautiful body of yours”

Out of now where with lighting fast reflexes she drew a Karambit from beneath a fold in her dress, driving  it down to the hilt into Catherine’s thigh. She then pulled the knife towards her the sharp blade parting the muscle and flesh with the ease of butter. Pulling the knife out of the wound, she smiled as she inserted 3 fingers into the wound and removed the small pill shaped tracking device from Catherine’s leg. Holding it in between her thumb and forefinger she notice that it wasn’t emitting a pulsing light like it was designed to do. Dropping it to the floor Fatima crushed it with her heel to ensure that it would not give away there location.

“Now will you answer my question so that I can get the medic back in here to sew you up before you bleed all over the floor you silly white whore?”

Catherine could feel the words rising through her chest, desperately she pushed them down forcing her mind to focus on anything else other than answering the questions before her. She’d been trained against all types of interrogation including waterboarding but the SP-117 was designed to prevent her from suppressing her thoughts or feelings. Her drive to keep herself alive pumped much needed adrenaline into her system allowing her some modicum of control over her thoughts. Fatima gazed into her eyes searching for an answer but she was not going to get one.

Catherine managed to spit what little saliva she could produce at Fatima scoring at direct hit as it landed on her face in an act of defiance. A fist flew from the right and collected Catherine across the jaw. The hard right cross had split Catherine just above her cheekbone and would add to the swelling on her face. She spat blood onto the carpet and rubbed her face where Yuri had hit her. He asked her again in a cool even tone laced with malice; she shivered as he spoke knowing what was coming next. Within seconds another punch knocked her to the ground, bunching herself into a ball to try and protect her stomach and face out of instinct. She willed herself to pass out. This was met with an increase in ferocity as Fatima and Yuri kicked at her kidneys. They got off on inflicting pain, laughing  as they kicked and stomped away at Catherine’s back and arms trying to get her to open up from her protective little ball.

It was a full 5 minutes in her ball being kicked and punched before Catherine finally blacked out from the pain. Waking groggy several hours later she found herself lying on an old canvas army cot, she’d been stripped of her clothes once again and the knife wound to her leg had been sewn shut and wrapped in a bandage. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about what could have happened to her in the moments after she’d blacked out. Had she woken and told them everything? Had Sneakers and his mate had their way with her? She thought of home and for the first time in a couple of years she thought of Mac and what she had done to him in service of her country.

Sobbing uncontrollably her thoughts kept coming back to him. Catherine had known everything about him, she knew he was a highly decorated Navy Seal, she also knew he was part of the raid on the safe house in Abbottabad, she knew he had things he wanted to tell her but couldn’t as he thought he was protecting her. If only she’d told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth they might still be together today and she might not be rotting in a wine cellar somewhere in Europe.

Although she had been order to end there relationship by her supervisors she’d fallen for Mac years ago and hated herself for the way she had treated him in the end. The more she thought the tireder she got and before long she was once again sleeping.

The infrared camera blinked to life on the monitor before them.  Fatima and Yuri stood watching Catherine sleep. She spoke in low hushed voice in her husband’s ear, vowing that she would break the woman’s will and spirit to live in order to find out what they needed to know. A smile crept across Yuri’s face as he thought of the warning he had given Catherine about Fatima. He knew she would stop at nothing to extract the information they were after. He thought of previous westerners Fatima had tortured, she had taken them to the brink of death only to bring them back time and time again until they were begging her to kill them. They had all broken, they always did, Fatima had learnt her techniques from the Serbians who were renowned for the torture methods. He pulled her close and kissed her passionately before turning to the monitor.

“Sleep well Miss Collins for when you wake you will wish you had listened to me”.

Travelling Man in the back of a van…

Ok so there is no van, no car, no trains only planes in this edition of A mind of its own… In this week’s installment we discuss life on the road as I travel for work. You’ll get to see the confusion, boredom and often harrowing events many people experience who have to travel for work on a daily, weekly or monthly basis. The costs involved and the time it often takes to get from one place to another despite using air travel to get there.

So where to and why you ask? Good bloody question not sure how I drew the short straw in the work pool of resources who could travel. Well I actually have a fairly good idea when the bosses in the ivory tower ask questions like, Do you have kids? A dog or cat? Anything that would preclude you from travelling once a month? And my answer is no,while my mind is thinking yeah my lack of will and pay. It’s almost as though they just handover the short straw with cheshire cat grins strewn across their faces. As to where that would be our Nation’s capital and the city of churches for starters.

Two visually stunning landscapes steeped in European design and architecture but lacking in terms of things to do once the working day has finished and are about as interesting as a documentary on watching paint dry. So we’ll start with Canberra, before any of you get upset, I spent a lot of time growing up there so I am entitled to my opinion when i say it was a lot more fun when you could buy fireworks without a license, porn was on sale on every corner and the politicians were all over each other like a rampant Red faced Barnaby Joyce.

To start with unless you are flying from Sydney or Melbourne there are no and I mean no direct flights unless you have your own private jet, which unfortunately this aspiring writer has not managed to finish his book let alone sell a copy of it although, I have at least a couple of sales confirmed thanks to the family and close friends I’ve instructed to buy it whether its any good or not. They can always use is as a doorstop or the old regift come Christmas time. Now back to A mind of its own and our work travel segment.

For a Northern Rivers resident the fact that travel means I am on the same time zone each day that I am away is a complete thrill, heading into a different time zone just to head back to the time zone you came from is quite a funny experience. When you leave for the gym at 6am and arrive there at 5:30am it has people going hah?? And then there are the times your wife asks you what time you need to be at the airport for your trip and then finishes her sentence with “Our time or Qld time” it can often feel like you are in a time warp.

The good thing about flying out of Coolangatta or the Gold Coast Airport as it is better known during daylight savings is the hour up my sleeve. 6:00am flight, sure no problems I’ll actually be at the airport at 6am despite the fact that I’ve already been awake for 2 odd hours and it’s 7am literally a 5 minute drive down the road while my plane is taxiing down the runaway. It gets confusing, trust me on that one.

I am one of those people who likes to be early, I hate being late and I hate having to rush, a complete control freak when it’s my time. It often frustrates my wife as I rush her out of the house so we aren’t late to events or work. I think it started as a kid as my mother is always late and it frustrates the hell out of me. So arriving at the airport with plenty of time allows me to get a coffee and browse all the shops but let’s be honest Gold Coast airport does not have a great variety of stores to peruse while waiting for your early morning flight. What it does have though is a heap of tables and chairs which makes it ideal for someone like me who can use the time to work on their book or write the next installment of their blog.

Getting on the plane is always like playing a game of Russian roulette, will I or won’t I get a spare seat next to me, will they move me to an exit row? Will the person beside me leave me in peace to stream inflight entertainment or will that chat away incessantly for the duration of the flight not realising that I am not paying attention and in some cases have drifted off from boredom over hearing how they’ve adopted there tenth cat named Whiskers.

Or will i end up between two people who’s lack of thought for hygiene creates a fear of hippies and a want to provide the world with organic deodorant at prices so low you could barter for it with a leaf. I wouldn’t be the first traveller to have this fear and if I could afford it i’d be sitting myself up front clinking complimentary champagne with all the pollies instead of being stuck in cattle class with Arthur and Martha who run the local commune out the back of Byron Bay and haven’t showered since the revolution in the 70’s.

Sometimes I get my wish and I’m left to watch reruns of some tv show whilst snacking on my complimentary biscuit and water as we make our way towards Sydney or left to read the latest installment by Cussler, Clancy, Flynn, McNab or Ryan from my large selection of paperbacks waiting for a bookshelf at home that I have been to lazy to go out and buy.

The ride itself is mostly smooth as the gravity defying tin cans rattle through the sky at close to 1000 km per hour but when the weather hits it’s like being on a roller coaster at Movie World as the taste of your last meal hits the back of your throat and you frantically reach for the barf bag only to realise they haven’t replaced them. Then that awkward moment hits, your brain catches up to your body and you realise you have two options…

Either you become that awkward passenger that vomits everywhere or you swallow. For me dignity will always win over pride. Time to suck it up princess and swallow your own spew. I would love to say that i have never had to do this but sadly I have and as I sat there waiting for my flight back to Brisbane to leave the runaway swallowing my stomachs own fireball concoction somewhere in the skies over NSW someone I know was suffering the same fate.

I’ve often questioned if heaven is real and the more time I spend at airport I start to feel it might be. Not being remotely religious I imagine that waiting to get into the pearly gates is a lot like waiting an hour or two and in some cases a whole day for your connecting flight. The patient people are allowed access and the frustrated and infuriated people who are anxious to get home or to wherever they are going are denied access and sent below to the fiery depths of hell or in this case to fly with Tiger Air and take there luck on whether the flight will actually leave or not and if it does will it be on time.

Second flight in and I suffer the same issues, people on planes annoy me… Just take your seat, sit down and be quiet for the duration of the flight. Take a nap, relax but do whatever it is that you need to do not to annoy me as I try to enjoy my trip. Oh and if I could have the window seat that would be greatly appreciated I’m sick of the cabin crew hitting me with the drinks cart as they hurtle down the aisles passing out light snacks with the captain speaking in the background about how long our journey will be and what time he or she will have us disembarking at the gate.

Another thump into the tarmac and we are on the ground. A short taxi later and we’ve arrived at our destination. The wing bridge is moved into place for passengers to disembark through to the terminal. For those that have baggage they head to the carousel and wait, wait, wait and some more waiting for the flashing light to come on and the thing start to spinning around like an appealing ride with bags as obstacles to hurdle. I tend to just stand around watching people, some refreshed as they start their adventure others exhausted from the 40 minute flight.

To the cab line I march with self importance, all suited and booted looking sharp as a tack I must say. Wheelie bag in tow looking like a real professional who knows what he’s doing. Fake it till you make it they say well I guess you could say that’s me in a suit. Having to wear them is not exciting it does not make me feel important or special but I do it as first impressions last. Suits are not the ideal travelling attire just FYI, give me a pair of trackies and a t-shirt anyday.

It’s the cab trips I really love, I’ve always been interested in a Cabbies story particularly our friends from overseas and what brought them to Australia. Dishing out nicknames like Trent and Wok a cab ride can be as fun as you want to make it. A lot of them are quite happy to have a chat and surprisingly my attitude towards conversation is completely different to the one i take when I step onto an airplane. My favourite question of “do you use Uber?” in recent years often sparks an interesting conversation and to my surprise after a little encouragement 90% admit they use Uber rather than grabbing a cab. Why because they don’t have to wait for a random cab driver to drive past or call the cab company and order one only to be told there is a wait and have to call back in 20 minutes and ask where there cab is.

Once at work the fun of meetings begins, I’d love to say it’s all boozy lunches and dinners with clients but sadly it not, usually it’s sitting around in a conference room giving or going through a presentation or sitting in a secure room pouring over documents that you can’t make copies of but can write out by hand if you so choose to. These are usually followed by more meetings and just to add on we have a few more meetings about the meetings.

By the time the day is done we have a little time for going through the million emails that have piled up through the day and returning a few phone calls of the people who have called more than once. A quick flick through instagram to see if anyone has posted anything more interesting than photos of lunch and breakfast and it’s usually out to dinner where if work is paying you know I’m hitting the bar for a few beers.

The hotel, motel, holiday Inn, well thankfully i don’t have to stay at a motel or the holiday Inn. The accommodation or diggs are usually quite good, minimum queen size bed, little desk, fridge and bathroom what more could you want? Foxtel is usually hooked up and if you press your luck you might get work to splash out for a movie or two on your expenses. Very unlikely and rare that happens.

I’d like to say i venture out and see a little more of the Nation’s Capital as it continues to expand out and try and steal more of NSW’s land while I’m visiting but the truth is i tend to stay in my little bubble close to the office where i know an escape to the airport is only a cab ride 10 minutes and a stress relieving walk to beer is just across the road in the hotel bar.

So with the Nation’s Capital all stitched up as a place famous for scandal, penis statues, expensive ugly pieces of art besides its roads, porn, fireworks, politicians and public servants who have more flex time built up than a brick wall it’s on to the city of churches. Another thrilling plane ride dodging conversations and poor hygiene with the men and women who oversee the flights in there bright colours layered on lipstick and often over the top put on smiles. Really who wants to deal with the drunk guy in 3B who asks for a tinny of your best beer and winks like a creep everytime. I can guarantee there is one on every flight.

Founded in… well who really cares when it was founded. As always some stuff happened, the white man went there and treated the indigenous people poorly and a city was formed. Upon landing in Adelaide it feels like it was founded only yesterday. It’s a little backwards and like stepping back in time. I almost feel like i should be climbing out of an old twin prop and hailing down a horse and cart for the long journey into town. Where I’ll walk into my hotel and some child will call me governor and offer to shine my shoes for a penny.

Ok, ok it’s not that bad they have colour TV and all the mod cons and some new looking buildings in amongst all the churches and early european settler design and architecture. There cricket facilities are amazing and there love of Aussie rules is second to that of only Victoria. The mighty Crows and Power can be seen idolised throughout the city. They have an amazing array of homeless people who get up and down the main shopping precinct begging, busking and often running from the law as they nick something from a rack hanging close to the front of a store.

Like Canberra there is a little bar scene popping up with Whiskey bars and microbreweries. The problem is trying to find them, it would seem they are that trendy they don’t have signage or a door on the street. Head down the back alley worrying about whether you’ll be mugged and you just might find on of them. I just can’t help thinking that everything would look so much better with a lick of paint. It reminds me of a big country town whenever i am there.

No matter where i venture the people are friendly and there is always something interesting going on. If there isn’t I am sure I’ll attempt to make it interesting by imparting myself and my knowledge on the people around me whether it’s wanted or not. That’s one of the great things about being in Australia and being able to travel this great land, we meet so many people from all walks of life, who all have their own stories or stories from others they’ve met along their journey through this life.

It’s not the travel that kills me, I actually like flying and have always been amazed by the science and engineering that goes in to lifting those giant birds into the sky and keeping them there. It’s the things to do once my working day has ceased. Part of it is that travelling also throws my routine right out the window. Despite my best intentions of packing running gear, I can never seem to pull myself out of bed when I am away to do anything. It could also have something to do with trying to gain entry into the beer olympics with my coworkers and suffering the effects the next day but that’s a blog in itself.

At the end of the day my favourite part of any trip is the moment those wheels touch down and home is within a short ride home. I love the flexibility of being able to travel but i also love where i live and the person i share that house with. Work travel is good it breaks up the monotony of the Monday to Friday grind.

I can image with children travelling for work would be difficult not only would you be leaving your partner alone to look after the kids but you could also be missing out on key moments of their lives. So for me I’ll get the travel done before they arrive and no we aren’t pregnant I’m just pointing out that it would be and is easier to travel when you don’t have children, young children.

Whilst some weeks its a pain in the backside most of the time it’s easy and provides me with material for my book or this blog in which you can choose to laugh at or ignore my banter in which i poke fun at place and people I’ve met along the way. Until the next blog which i have no idea what it will be about but I’m sure it will have A Mind of it’s Own…

I’ve got music and it makes me feel alright…

Whether it be the dulcet tones of your favourite singer or the long riffs of a guitarist slashing out a solo, music can evoke emotions in all of us we often didn’t know existed. It often starts in the extremities working its way through your body like a wave forming, than crashing on a beach only to be drawn back out by the tide to repeat the cycle. It might start as a tapping of the foot, the clicking of your fingers or the drumming of a nearby object and before you know it the beat and rhythm have wormed their way inside until your whole body has involuntarily joined in and you find yourself sounding like a strangled cat in a back alley somewhere as you sing along at the top of your lungs.

That’s the effect music can have on you!  As I started writing this blog in my mind this morning, ironically I was singing to myself, driving along in the car and it got me thinking about what my first piece should be about on A mind of its Own. With music blaring away, other drivers looking at the crazy guy either talking to himself of singing along it got me think about other people’s reactions to music and how it can lift them in some cases and in others bring a tear to the eye.

Personally I am big on lyrics, I’ll admit a catchy beat is always fun to listen to but lyrics are where I really start to enjoy music. Perhaps it’s the creative element and the aspect of empathy that music allows that I enjoy so much or maybe in some past life I was a famous musician (If i was it certainly didn’t carry into this world). Either way for me music is a tool I utilise most days to help control my anxiety and depression and help me concentrate at work when I’d rather be anywhere but there.

Music plays a bigger part in our day-to-day lives than we often think, for someone like me who thrives on routine, music is a big part of my daily routine. I don’t listen to the radio in the morning on my way to work I put on a playlist and sing along right up to the moment I park the car. In the gym I listen to my own tunes while in the background some high intensity workout song plays for the roid ragers throwing their dumbbells around as they lift more than actually should to get those Hollywood muscles pumped.

I got thinking about how other people utilise music or react to music for example having played sport all my life and thinking about athletes getting ready for the big game or race an image comes to mind of someone sitting there with a pair of Beats by Dr Dre on their head, phone in hand, eyes closed focussing while their foot taps out the beat. Does the music help them focus or does it calm their nerves and what are they listening to? For all i know they could have Britney Spears blasting into their ears. No judgement from me, I used to annoy my teammates by singing Mmmbop while I warmed up before every game but hey it worked for me…

The power of music to evoke feelings and emotions has been utilised throughout time. Motion picture from its inception has utilised music scores to set the scene for the viewer taking it from the big screen to the small screen. Where the utilisation of small instrumentals let you know something scary is about to happen or something fun is around the corner. It didn’t take long for the madmen in marketing to get on board with Brands adopting music, paying royalties to the owners that when heard associated the listener with their product or service.

I was looking at taking a deep dive into the science behind the music. After reading several articles I decided to stop, thinking about how this Blog about music could soon turn into a book if I didn’t draw a line in the sand somewhere. So i’ve chosen to skirt around the science all you need to know is there have been studies. You don’t have to believe me but if you do a google search on Music and Science you will come across thousands of articles and studies on how music affects the mind, body and soul. If I had the time I’d spell it out for you all, however between work, writing this, a novel and playing sport I feel my wife might disown me if I don’t find some time for her in all of that.

That being said there have been studies carried out that show music can cure some forms of insomnia. Shoppers tend to buy more when classical music is playing and certain music helps us work out as we tend to increase our tempo based on the beat and rhythm. The articles and studies went on to explain that white noise helps concentration levels in office environments. A litany of studies have been conducted since the beginning of the 20th century.

The articles and research papers that drew me in tended to be those that discussed Anxiety and Depression and the use of music to help combat the effects. I guess you could say I have a vested interest. The studies conducted showed music has a soothing effects as sensory pathways had to compete with pain pathways. Playing music or getting people to participate in music based tasks can be used as a distraction and is an effective among those who can become easily absorbed in cognitive activities.

This isn’t the first piece I’ve written about music and its effect on the mind, body and soul. I’ve always loved music since I was a little kid and have been lucky enough to have a very eclectic taste. I’ll thank Mum and Dad for that one. Unfortunately I was not gifted with a good set of lungs, unique dancing feet or the dexterity to become a successful musician. Although for those of you who have seen me dance you could say that it’s quite unique.

Whilst having the ability to lift people music can also send us spiraling in the opposite direction with memories they may bring of a time, place or person that is painful. What we often associate with music goes along way to showing that with memories we capture more than we often think. For example the trigger of a memory through a certain song or lyric of a song. I remember being in Scotland several years ago (OK I was a young pup so it was well over a decade ago) I was missing home, the weather was miserable, I think it was snowing, close to Christmas and I was slipping and sliding in the big white van I got to drive around for work.

After deciphering the thick Scottish brogue of the DJ a song came over the radio that immediately had a lifting effect on me as it reminded me of home and my mum, I’d love to say it was Land Down Under by Men at work being Australian but it was not. It was Eagle Rock by Daddy Cool and to this day whenever I hear I automatically think about mum. Just like whenever I hear Billy Joel I’m reminded of Dad.

I have always said there is a song for every moment, every emotion and for everyone. Whether it is a reminder of the past, present or dreams of the future music plays a bigger part in our memories and dreams than we often give it credit for. The premise of this was always to get you thinking about music and the properties behind it, how much of a role does it play in your life and what emotions and feelings does it stir within you?

I’m sure I am not telling you the reader anything you don’t already know but it does get you thinking!  Do I have my own song? Something that reminds me of me when I hear it? Or a song that is special to you? Lyrically I could pick a long list of songs that I can empathise with the artist as they pour out their heart or sing about a time in their life something happened.

If you are interested in reading more about the effect music has on our brain and body there are plenty of articles available on the net however the book ‘Why we Love Music’ by John Powell is a collation of research and information that he spent over 4 years gathering before releasing the book.   

For now I’ll take a leaf out of the Beautiful Girls book and leave you with this quote of their lyrics ‘Cause I got music and it makes me feel alright, I got this here music and it helps ease my mind, Cause I got music and it takes away the pain, Got this here music and I’ve got everyday.

What to expect, when you’re not expecting…

Last week the idea came to me via the voice the sits close to my shoulder every night, nope I am not crazy I just have a smart, suggestive wife who told me I should  start a blog, well i guess more of a site in which I can share and showcase my writing, my views and opinions on topics that are close to my heart and need a voice. Whether that voice be mine or someone else’s.

And so A Mind of It’s Own was born out of both necessity and my need to put pen to paper or feel the touch of a keyboard beneath my fingers as my thoughts are poured out about life, love, liberty and the liveliness of the Australian community around me.

Like the title suggest this blog could take on a mind of its own, it could end up anywhere and everywhere. Knowing my own mind and the way it motors on every piece of information before analysing it, we could end up exploring some deep dark personal crevices regarding my own personal struggle with Anxiety and Depression.

I’m sure there’ll be some good times shared and some bad, some topics people don’t want to hear about and some they secretly do, but are  too ashamed to admit. There will be times I’ll throw out to the public for them to provide a topic in which I’ll diligently research, if it’s interesting, otherwise I’ll probably just end up copying and pasting from Wikipedia to the disappointment of the avid fans I know I’m sure to attract.

I’ll share stories of friends and family and people who I don’t know, some will be fictitious and others will be the truth and nothing but the truth. I will however always protect the identities of those involved. Unless they ask me not to then you’ll get to know all about them and what they do Monday through Sunday.

There’ll be times where I’ll just post chapters or ideas of books or pieces I am working on, for people to provide their opinions both good and bad, but take it easy I do have feelings.

No matter what the topic or post, I can promise you (The reader) that you will get a no holds barred account of what my mind really thinks. You’ll be glued to your seats, with your eyes bulging, brain whirring, stomach churning in what I can guarantee will often be and empathetic journey of the mind.

And always remember! These views are solely my own and by no means represent the views of my wife, employer, family, friends and acquaintances or anyone else who feel they might have been thrown into my world through my thoughts and feelings.

Feel free to challenge me, disagree with me or tell me I am completely nuts in the comments section of each blog entry, But I reserve the right to delete any comment for any reason what so ever (abusive, profane, rude or anonymous comments) – so keep it polite, please.

TC