Look who I got to hang with today...

I always wanted to meet Michael Jackson. In fact, I was sure someday I would.

I guess that plan has backfired... but I'll accept Jackie Jackson as a very fortunate second!

JJ was a lovely bloke; he opened the door for me like a gentleman and had no diva demands... he also teared up when talking about Michael, bless.

RIP King of Pop.

I think I'm a 'Yearner'

Yesterday I did something I used to love and never get to do anymore... while away a summery Sunday morning reading the Sunday Telegraph weekend newspaper cover to cover.

Who ever said contentment was complicated?

It was while partaking in this marvellous and much-missed task that I came upon social commentator Sam deBrito's column. This week was all about people who carefully select their friendship circle based on how each member clinically fits together, sort of like flipping through an Ikea catalogue.

While I know people who do that, I thankfully don't - but I do suffer from a condition also mentioned in the column - that pesky little thing called "yearner" syndrome.

Sam described it as people who constantly think about "the green-grass yonder, looking for a better car, clothes or career". It's basically people who naturally want more than they have.

I think I am one of these people. While (for me) this does not mean I don't appreciate my life and all that is in it, I just always want more... consistently desirous and cursed with sky-scraping expectations, I'm forever planning my next improvement or move towards bigger and better things.

This really isn't a good thing.

It means that while you are exhaustively struggling to clutch onto a better future, you have no room left in your arms to hold onto what's actually happening in the present - which is the only life you have.

Because I've been aware of this all-too-common scourge for some time, I recently attempted a 12-month meditation course, designed to kick my flighty mind back into the power of 'now'.

My meditation teacher (whom I affectionally call Obi Wan) once told me "life is but a series of precious moments... be careful you don't drop them".

I found the ancient practice a thousand shades of torture at first - but through sheer desperation, persisted - and then finally uncovered a clear path to a quieter mind.

I wrote about my meditation experience in a recent issue of Yen Magazine; here is the article if you hold any interest: (Just click on the photo to enlarge it in a new window)

n.b. I find it impossible to write without humour, so this article is very 'tongue-in-cheek'. Whatever that means. I can't say I usually stick my tongue inside my cheek when I joke. Perhaps I shall try it - maybe my jokes will sound funnier.

The most beautiful view

is the one I share

with

you.

Stocking Up (and Adam Lambert)

Here's my pile so far of all the essentials I can't get in Honkers!

(or have to win the lottery to pay for):

Board game

rice crackers

Praise fat free French salad dressing

hair bleach

dry shampoo

Aveeno moisturiser

fake tan

vitamins

puppy breath freshener for Otto

p.s. I've just received some very exciting news about my old job and Adam Lambert - stay tuned! :)

Breakfast with someone I used to know

Today I dragged myself away from the family home for breakfast at my old favourite cafe, in my old hood.

It's located in Sydney's inner west: an area close to downtown, but far enough away to feel a little more homey and a little less high-risey.

I used to live there, right up until I moved to Hong Kong; in fact I still own an apartment there, which I rent out to a Brazillian couple. I drove past it today - no green and yellow flag in sight... I don't know if I'm relieved or concerned. Does this mean they are packing to move??

The area is fabulously artsy - full of rustic cafes and second-hand bookshops, with a faint whiff of crystals, chakras, and street dwellers with wild eyes.

Walking down the main street was the first time I've run into my old self since arriving... and it felt entirely strange.

I could see myself walking up and down that same street each day; oblivious of what was to come, carrying groceries, window-shopping, meeting B for a date, having brunch at this very same cafe, doing up my brand new apartment.

Today I felt like I had never left - and suddenly Hong Kong seemed a million miles away.

I sat down for coffee with the old me. She seemed good - relaxed and happy. She felt at home.

That's when I knew - everything, all this - is going to be okay.

When I eventually do return to Sydney, Hong Kong will slowly be disremembered, and mornings chowing down on Chinese tea and dim sum in steaming hole-in-wall cafes, will once again become Italian coffees, newspapers and eggs in Sydney's inner west.

So not ready for that yet. But that day will come.

p.s. Here's what I had for breakfast: Looks disgusting, doesn't it?

But at least it's not dim sum.

Dear B...

I miss you.