What’s your next best move, baby-cakes?

Crater Lake, Cradle Mountain National Park, Tasmania. The cool kids.

There is often a really clear answer to a question like “what’s your next best move, baby-cakes”?  You just automatically make choices.

Have you ever felt your options open up a “sliding doors” kind- of movie moment (you remember the fab film with Gwnyneth, the defining moment which lead to romance, an alternative life?).

Have you felt like you could choose to do one thing that will lead down one track; another thing and there’s a new trail, with a whole different vibe and crew along for the ride?

There’s that kind of liveliness about the regional coastal area where I’m living in Tasmania at the moment, autumn is just filled with events ( and the usual regional social ‘bobs your uncle’ go- to’s) every weekend.  Choose between a funky musical/ story-telling event like, the bighart Acoustic Life of Sheds Project, or go along to your neighbours Body Shop party.  Like I said, some decisions are easily made, but have you stopped to wonder just how much you’ve actually changed the course of your life at times…

Jane’s Shed, photographed spectacularly by Hannah Sadler, March 21, 2015.

Stop the clock a moment to consider.

This fortunate situation you’re in;  having choice, opportunity and motivation to give new things a whirl.  What are some of the defining turning points of your life to date?  There are no doubt surprising and dumb choices that have each thrown up new experiences in front of your face.  New people, work or travel experiences realigning your trajectory.  Knowledge.

Are you hard-wired for endurance, you stick to a task; perhaps you even have an old grind that has consumed a good part of your life?

Some relationships seem destined to dog you for all your days, others blow in with sweet promise.  Light bright liasions.  Safe people.  Heart pumping people.  Together or alone; the power of places, of stories.  The intricacies of life.  Choices.

How lucky are we?  Having the freedom of choice.

Tasmanian Aboriginal Petroglyphs from the Arthur- Piemen Reserve, like a signpost or a story. A blog post from pre- colonised Tasmania…

For part of my novel redraft (number three) research, I revisited some favourite places on Tasmania’s West Coast recently.  I met some interesting locals and immersed myself in the quiet solitude of the coastline here.  The decision to go down to Arthur River and do this research (adding so much value to my writing practice), was fed from many different moves, sources, people.

It felt like I’d just come from the scrub out onto the beach, with a fresh water source, a sheltered bay close by for shellfish collection and the ultimate hut site with 360 degree views across the landscape.  The petroglyphs were like an ancient cairn.  I was on the right track.  I’d got to the right place for this time, anyway.

It was arguably my best move, getting my barge arse down to Sundown Point before the business of redraft number 3.