the happy cactus

Back in the 80’s and 90’s, to navigate your way around we had a Refidex or Street Directory. Most Queenslanders called it either Reffo or Gregories. In my case, we said Reffo. It was not an easy feat to navigate your way around; all this was pre-internet and pre-google maps. Not all maps were sequential either, as in, turn to the next page to get to the next suburb or street. You would look in the top, middle or bottom corners of the page to see which page you had to turn to next to continue your journey. Most of the time, you would hold or turn the Reffo around so the street in front of you was matched to your direction. And you had to update it every year because residential development was booming and new areas that were not there in the beginning of the year were suddenly there by end of the year. By the end of the 2010’s, I finally had a smart phone and google maps to help me go where I was headed. With a sat nav to help guide you nowadays, nobody should be getting lost or headed in the wrong direction. It seems our every move can be marked and located without any hassle.

Travelling interstate in the early days was tough, especially for an in experienced youngen like myself. You had to purchase an interstate map or if you were lucky enough, your parents would have owned the RACQ Australian Roadmaps book that had all the small towns marked in and across Australia. When we drove to Melbourne, as kids we would follow the map and call out what town was next, what we bypassed and what attraction to see in the towns. The Big Prawn in Ballina; The Big Banana in Coffs Harbour; and The Big Merino in Goulbourn. These were the easy days. Simplicity reigned with ease and the hardest choice was to pull into the next town early enough to get a feed from the local fish and chipper. The roadmap marked places you had driven through, and what towns and attractions to expect in the future.

The same can be said about life and I’m talking in general here, and specifically about my own personal experience. You used to have the old foldout roadmap to help guide you as you grew up with the towns clearly marked. Firstly, you’re born and all the usual hoo-ha that comes with being an infant until adolescence. Siblings come along, kindy, preschool and primary school all seem to happen at once and amidst the busyness and ruckus of life, the hardest decisions tend to be who is up for playing Marco Polo in the pool or riding our BMX bikes on our property. Then your simple life changes into the next town of high school, preteenager, friendship groups, and sleep overs. Once you find out many things have changed, including your body and your hormones, it is yet another decision that you are faced with. Again, as a preteenager, these decisions were life and death (at the time of course). Your heart gets smashed by your secret love who has dated Maxine instead of you. Your best friend Kathy has befriended Hazel and you somehow have been replaced. The next town is not as easy to navigate your way around, and you wish you could just leave because it’s lonely juggling your emotions, boys, friendship groups, and your education. You understand that you are really not producing good grades and you prefer to have your girlfriends around to chat incessantly about Rodney with his shaved head and scraggly rats-tail, Glenn with his cool mullet and one earring, and of course, Frank with his bad-boy persona that screams sexual attraction.

Moving your finger down the map, you can see the next town is bigger than what you just left and the allure of bright lights, older boys, well dressed girls and a soundtrack that has nostalgia written all over it is just what you need. You are encouraged to leave high school at year 10, because let’s face it, you’re old enough to work and earn money rather than try be an academic which your parents clearly know you are not the smartest of the seven and strongly advise dropping out. Hence entering the new well-lit town with hopes and dreams of earning money so you can buy a car, pay your board, buy new clothes and shoes, and have enough left over to participate in the activities normal young people do such as movies and dinners at Pancake Manor.

This however, this town, this lifestyle is not all glamour and glitz. Working is hard and your bosses  secretary Nicci who, along with her cat-like claws and a venomous agenda, would belittle you for being ‘peppy and happy’ all the time. I was 15 and she was only 24 but she seemed so much older, and meaner, and unhappy. Then you consult the roadmap for a different suburb and work your way out of that workplace towards another. This town has the makings of a decent boyfriend, a best friend, and a plethora of friends. Albeit encased around the word church but really with a cult mentality. Don’t get me wrong, rules and regulations are the backbone of society but when you are under a regime that dictates who you can and cannot communicate with, is a damned cult my friend. After spending 10 years in this town, the roadmap depicts a town way, way down the road. Miles away from where the cult-town is situated, so you pack up your baggage, bad teachings and bad habits and move your family away. To begin with, the town is lonely and there are several tumbleweeds gracing the empty streets along with a few starved dogs. Ever so slowly you step out of your comfort zone, pick up your educational studies where you left it 13 years ago, and begin your journey along the mature adult learning road. It takes you six years to complete it, all while raising your two babies, and home day-care a 7 month old, working weekends, and sacrificing your time and energy to achieve a career in education. You find your life-long friends at university and suddenly the roadmap shows the town is actually a city and a thriving one at that. This town, this roadmap that life has you on has been one of the best decisions you’ve ever made and you are so glad that you took that wrong turn and ended up here.

Having kids has a different roadmap altogether and I am glad that my town was there to help. Not always but mostly. Raising children would be way more easier if there was an instruction manual but alas there is not one. We sort of just fumble our way through and become adamant that we are not going to be like our parents but unfortunately some traits sneak in.

The roadmap doesn’t always show you where you should be. It provides options, different decisions, possibilities and what-ifs; we just have to cruise down the highway and if we feel like a new adventure then find the next servo, refuel, put air in your tyres and munch on a pie and sauce while you read the map. Life is a not linear, it’s not sequential nor is it going to have giant signs that clearly state what you need to do, or which way you should go. Implementing a sense of self and trusting your gut instinct has drastically helped in my recent decision making. It has not been clear half the time, but I do trust my inner roadmap. I see where I have been, and am so thankful.

I look forward with an unguarded openness and deep prayerfulness that I don’t miss the town I am supposed to go to next. I do refer to my roadmap in regards to advice from my closest friends, my darling brothers, my mentors at work and especially my husband. My daughter has always been a wise old soul and she is great at sound advice and a good slap of truth when required. The same is with my son. He will say it like it is and although he doesn’t always see the bigger picture, he will never let me make a decision without bringing up all possibilities of the outcome.

My roadmap might not be a paper copy that I can physically hold, nor is it digitised so I can book mark towns I might be interested in but I guess it is a combination of people and my intuition.

Life really is a big ole highway, and I wanna make sure I am equipped to make informed decisions to help me arrive where I am meant to be next.

Big love x