The Time Traveller

This past week I discovered how to travel through time. The wormhole I discovered works for travelling to the past and the future. Pretty cool.

So, I had to do something difficult this week. I had to stand and fight. I’ve always been a fighter, but then I’ve nearly always run or I haven’t had to run because the fight was at a distance. This fight is not like that at all; it’s in my face and it’s there all the time. It’s something I’ve deliberately chosen not to run from. It’s scary because I don’t know what’s going to happen next. It sure as shit makes me bloody uncomfortable, but that’s ok, cos guess what? Being uncomfortable is just a feeling and feelings can’t actually hurt you, especially when you’re standing up for what’s right.

This fight has provided me an awesome opportunity to visit the past. I was able to reflect back on many of my experiences where I had blamed myself for what had happened. It was my fault because I did the wrong thing, I’d told myself so many times, but through the lens of what is unfolding I can see that it wasn’t always my fault and that I rarely did do the wrong thing, but I’d been blaming myself for it nonetheless.

I went back to those experiences and saw them for what they were: not my fault, not my wrongdoing and it gave me freedom and peace of mind to see them for what they actually were; the transgressions of others for the most part; something over which I had and continue to have no control.

Not only did I get to reshape the past, but standing and fighting will no doubt shape the future. I am travelling to my future and making a mark on where life will take me by doing this hard thing, this difficult thing, this uncomfortable thing, this right thing.

I credit this whole adventure thing with my decision to stand and fight against formidable and resourceful opponents. I’ve looked back on the hard things I’ve done in my life: walking almost 400km on my own carrying a 22kg pack, getting up on a platform in the Queen Street Mall and giving a talk about embracing discomfort, hosting the Women’s Adventure Film Tour and basically just hitting home runs off the curve balls that life seems to love sending my way.

Being adventurous and being willing to embrace discomfort has given me the fortitude to tackle whatever life throws at me.

Bring It




Soapbox Warrior 1

An awesome friend and I went to Brisbane last week to see one of our favourite bands, Mumford & Sons. We hung out in the Queen Street Mall for a bit and I thought it was a great opportunity to see how much I could scare the pants off myself and also make my awesome friend totally uncomfortable in the process!

I jumped up onto a big wooden bench and gave a talk for six minutes about the transformative power of being uncomfortable:

talk queen st mall jan 2018

I gave the same talk the day before in Bundaberg, but the reaction there was weird: it was like I didn’t exist, even though I was shouting at the top of my lungs and there were two ladies from the council setting up an art project right near where I was screeching. They didn’t look in my direction at all and neither did anyone else, well, that I could tell anyway. “See?” I said to the cool guy, “I told you I have the super power of invisibility!”

In the mall though, people stampeded on and on, but there were quite a number of them who stopped momentarily and one man even stayed until I’d finished talking so he could congratulate me and shake my hand. That made me feel pretty damn good! Invisible: Bundaberg, Invincible: Brisbane. Together: Courageous and unstoppable! A good set of super powers if I do say so myself.

I got scared doing the talk both times, but both times I didn’t implode. Doing stuff like this makes me feel like I own the sky. It’s a pretty cool feeling and cooler still is that the sky is so damn huge that we can all own a little bit for ourselves; the asking price: a tiny piece of your comfort zone.

Speech Transcript

Step onto the path and courage will find you






He got broken

For sale: One slightly used-up husband. Still goes, but needs some small and large repairs. Major units still functional. Heart pea-sized but has good beating capacity, if not a bit slow. Will come good with some encouragement, but only on Tuesdays. Good manners, mostly good hygiene. Domesticated. $50 ono.

There’s this cool guy I’m married to and I kind of broke him the other day! I took him on a hike. I wrote the above in my journal at the end of the 39km.

We went to Fraser Island and hiked from Kingfisher Bay Resort on the Western side of the island to Lake McKenzie, then onto Central Station and retraced our way back to Kingfisher two days later. He mostly got broken on the last day. I didn’t make the poor fella do it all in one day!

He’s mostly recovered now. Maybe I won’t even sell him, but who can tell what the future holds. I hope he’ll come on more hikes with me. If I can persuade him of that, then he might get to stay.

It was a good reminder that I have totally lost touch with what it’s like to start from ground zero and that not everyone is ok with walking at 7km/hr carrying a hefty pack. Oops, my bad!





(but make sure you can repeat and are not dead from adventuring too hard)





“I saw ’em wasted”

I went to a party the other night. It was pretty cool. I danced and danced and danced and then I danced some more. Cotton Eye Joe was the best song of the night. Yeeharr!

From the dance floor I saw the cool guy I’m married to talking to a dude I didn’t know, so I went and said hello. The dude was very drunk. He and the cool guy had known each other for a long time, so they were reminiscing about the good ol’ days. Someone asked about music and the drunk dude and the cool guy were very excited to realise that they both loved Hilltop Hoods, with The Nosebleed Section being both their favourite song. I can’t exactly recall how the conversation unfolded, but it went in general direction of getting wasted and how great being wasted is. “I saw ’em wasted!” The drunk dude exclaimed when we were discussing Hilltop Hoods and their live shows. Someone must have said something about the high cost of seeing live music due to expensive alcoholic beverages and the associated problems the consumption of such beverages bring when it comes to transportation and waking up the next day for work. “Did you ever consider that you don’t actually need to be drunk or to even drink any alcohol at all to have a good time?” I asked. The drunk dude looked at me momentarily like he didn’t understand, but in the end he said, “I like to have a few beers to relax.”

If someone can help me understand this, I’d really love an explanation! Does that mean that people who don’t drink alcohol are unable to relax? Does that mean that people who aren’t drunk can’t have a banger of a night out? I think it might mean that society has generally accepted that any event, especially of an evening, is only made enjoyable by the consumption of alcohol.

When I used to drink I thought the same kind of thing as the drunk dude. I believed that to have a good time I had to be drunk. I bought into this because I saw it all around me and I never stopped to question it, not once. If I’m really honest, I guess I was a bit afraid to give being sober a go. I didn’t want to invest a heap of money in a ticket for a concert and not enjoy it because I was sober. I didn’t want to be left out and I wanted to continue to hold the title of “life of the party”.

Only when I stopped drinking did I discover that the best nights out I’ve ever had have happened when I was totally sober. I couldn’t dance for 4 hours straight when I was drunk. I couldn’t get up the next morning and go climb a mountain. I couldn’t drive myself home, all the way from Brisbane (4 hours away) if I was drunk. I couldn’t save a shitload of money if I was drunk and I couldn’t be sure of living a long and healthy life if all I cared about when I went out was getting drunk.

I’m not saying that everyone who drinks was like I was or is like the drunk dude from the party, but have you ever stopped to think about why it is that you drink? Have you ever stopped to think that it could be a different and maybe better experience if you decide to go sober for a change.

Steve Jobs said, “in your life you only get to do so many things.” What things will you choose? Will you choose to only “see ’em wasted” or will you choose to see things as they are and enjoy the experience in all it’s glory? Will you choose to be the life of the party, but for a different reason, and ultimately will you choose to dance like this all night long:

Theodolite and Back

It was around the 20km mark that I started to question my sanity. “Why did I ever think this was a good idea?” I asked a big hairy biker dude who had crossed over to my side of the road to check out the beach. Of course he had no idea what the hell I was on about and looked at me sideways and said, “What? Going for a run?” (I’m not sure who runs in hiking boots but hey, whatever makes your hair blow back). “Nah, a bloody long walk. It’s 33km,” I said and I could see him shift ever so slightly away from me as though I’d just revealed that I had a necrotic skin disease of the airborne variety. He laughed an uncomfortable laugh and made to walk off, perhaps back to his bike to ride the flock away from me, although he beeped as he rode past me later on his Harley.

It’s hard to accept that other people don’t necessarily care about the things that are important to me. I get so caught up in something being the nexus of the universe that it seems perfectly natural that every other person on the planet would feel the same way. After all, who doesn’t want to find the nexus of the universe, but when I tell someone about something I’ve done or something I’m excited about and they just go, “oh, ok” and go back to swiping on their phone, or talking about what happened on the latest instalment of some boring TV series  it’s a good reminder that just because it’s important to me, doesn’t mean it’s important to other people.

Walking a long way is important to me. I usually like to do it while carrying a monster of a pack, but on the 33km walk to Theodolite Creek and back I only had a small day pack that weighed around 5kg. I can’t even really call it a hike. It was too flat, the pack was too light and I had fish, chips and a chocolate milkshake at the local takeaway shop.  Milkshakes are one thing I fantasise about when I’m on a hike. I usually get involved with telling myself stories outloud about the kinds of food and drink I would like to drive into my face. It really takes away from the fact that I feel like I’m dying, but it doesn’t help my hunger, in fact nothing does, not even food!

I’d never walked as far as 33km in one day before. I think 22km was it. If I hadn’t tried this I would never have realised how far it’s possible to walk in one day. It made me wonder what could be possible if I pushed myself and tried new stuff whenever the idea came to mind or whenever the opportunity arose.

The world is an unbelievable place and even people who think they know a thing or two about life can be catapulted into outer space every now and then when they cross paths with an enigmatic stranger, push themselves further than they thought possible or keep at something even if it feels like they’re failing. These experiences give life a new and exciting edge and will foster the desire to gain similar experiences again and again. Before you know it, you’re living right inside an ever-expanding circle of adventure where it only matters what’s important to you, not what’s important to the world at large.

The enigmatic stranger…just kidding, it’s Jon Bernthal. I guess TV shows are good for something after all.




Surrender to no Toilet

There’s this poem that’s on the wall of a toilet I’ve been to a few times. One of the lines says “…gracefully surrendering the things of youth.”

Why? Why should youth be surrendered at all, and really, what is youth anyway? Why should a poem, or anyone else for that matter, be the boss of telling you when it’s time to pack away all the things you once loved and to put behind you the opportunities for growth that contemporary thinking tells us are the rightful property of only the young; you know, stuff like learning new shit, taking extreme risks and being bold and courageous; dancing in the street, running a marathon, sailing across an ocean; learning a new language, becoming a surfer or riding a horse for the first time.

As far as poems go for offering life advice, I do prefer the one that says “…do not go gentle into that good night.” It’s a poem that implores “…rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

Anyone of any age can do anything they want. There are actually no age related restrictions for people who are over 18, only the restrictions we put on ourselves. We live in a youth obsessed culture because we’ve swallowed the idea put forward in the toilet poem about needing to surrender youth. Bullshit. We don’t need to surrender anything. An attitude of decline will bring decline as will an attitude of surrender.

For all of its length and breadth, life must be embraced; acted upon, lived in both its extremes and its comforts. This is where having an attitude of adventure can let you live a life that is longer and broader in experience comparative to your lived years.

Fill your live with adventure and

become someone who never has to surrender anything.




Speech Transcript

We’re more alike than we are different.

Maybe you’ve become stuck on the idea of what kind of person you think you are.

Perhaps this comes from pre-defined roles and what you’ve learned from society at large and your own personal experience.

Ideas that teach you that the boundaries of being female are finite and limited.

Have you ever considered that there are actually no boundaries?


Courage to be bold, courage to accept the challenges that life sends flying your way on some random Tuesday doesn’t grow OUT THERE. It grows IN HERE.

And really, you know that, you do, because you live it everyday.

And, like the air you breath, it would be impossible to live without it.

That courage that you synthesise to get through the everyday, the courage that grows INSIDE HERE,

Is the same courage that it takes to be bold,

To be adventurous and do something new and amazing that could change your life in a way you NEVER thought possible.

I never thought it possible that I could be on stage speaking to a captive audience,


About something which I have always been passionate about.

I never thought it possible that I could hike almost 400km on my own carrying this 22kg pack on my back.

But I was able to do these things and lead the amazing and awesomely adventurous life I do by taking small steps.

All adventure begins with just one step.

Even these amazing and skilful women we’ll see in these beautiful films began their adventures with just one step.

Adventure doesn’t have to be climbing mountains or being the best, fastest or youngest at something.

Adventure lives in simple acts of courage where you decide to

Question an old belief.

Talk to a stranger.

Cut your hair differently.

Try a chai latte for the first time.

These simple acts build on each other giving you confidence and synthesising courage so that you can become the best version of yourself that you can be.

Someone who lives a life that matters.

Someone engaged in a purposeful existence beyond the bounds of an individual life.

Someone who can shape the course of the future.

I hope you enjoy the films and I hope that I can continue to bring the show and others like it to this beautiful part of Qld, where we have access to the most amazing natural landscapes and seascapes in Australia.

I’m Jennifer Parry; your local host for the Bundaberg screening of the Women’s Adventure Film tour.