Minnie*

Water spills on the kitchen bench. I locate the sponge, plonk it in the middle of the spillage and swivel my wrist around 180 degrees. As the blue wipe absorbs the liquid it takes on an emerging, altogether different shape. The sponge gradually darkens and expands transforming from a stiff configuration into a languid one, stretching as far as possible, taking on as much water as possible.

It may be the world’s worst memory trigger, but the humble kitchen sponge reminds me of Minnie.

She’s emotionally intelligent, diligent, an emphatic listener and a keen student of the School of Life, eager to learn all facets. Like the sponge, she’s thirsty for knowledge, and in bettering herself she seeks to empower others. It’s this selfless, mature approach to life that makes me stop, marvel and wonder, how? Minnie wholeheartedly believes in applied learning, in applying learned theory to the day-to-day. She makes the most of every minute, whether that be sharing stories with a friend over a coffee, practising yoga daily at 5.30am, discovering a new song while preparing the kids’ muesli bars, or simply just being present.

Minnie tells me that when she was pregnant with her first child she would listen to tapes on negotiation, figuring it would be a useful way to spend her time given her limited physical capacity. I shake my head in incredulity at this because I wonder how she finds the time. As the mother of two boisterous young boys she still manages to carve out niche moments in the week to make time for others, for the little but big things that count. She’s a practical thinker. She relays that when she and her family moved to a bigger house with a back yard, to justify the additional expense she identified ways that they could maximise the space. I love this thinking. It’s so straightforward, makes so much sense, though admittedly, for someone like me, I wouldn’t recognise it if it hit me in the face like a Fisherman’s Friend.

She explains we have to live our own lives. It’s like there’s this unwritten, yet seemingly codified societal pressure to live according to ‘standards’ or ‘protocols’. ‘But’ she refreshingly explains, ‘we don’t need to live the narrative of others’. In other words, what suits one person or family may not suit us and our circumstances. Who says you need to be at this stage in life? Or have acquired X number of possessions? As long as our decisions align with our values then shouldn’t that be enough? If there is beauty in the simplicity of life then happiness can be found under any roof, be it a house, an apartment or a tent. Who gives a toss as long as the foundations are strong?

The foundations in Minnie and her husband’s home are very strong. The love and warmth envelopes you like a duvet as soon as you enter. It is light and airy and filled with character and charm. The boys’ cackling laughter^ which emanates while they play imaginative games is mirthful and it sweeps throughout the house like a soundtrack to a movie. On walls there are signs of learning and personal growth, a chart that records when chores are completed, both individually and in collaboration, artwork, books and books written by one of the children. Subjects are discussed and explored; all round a culture of enquiry is nurtured. I love it.

Minnie loves golf and is a denizen of the course. Dad always taught me to ‘drive for show, put for dough’. While my drives have a tendency to bank left, soaring into the bushes Minnie’s drives arc high, long and gracefully down the fairway, and they are almost always preceded by a glorious pinging sound. We’ve played a couple of rounds together. On the first occasion she identified an error in her technique that allegedly ‘hindered’ her performance. After having conducted a post-round self-evaluation, she modified her swing so by the second time we played Karie Webb would have been shown up, no question.

If that isn’t enough she’s written a book. A book! Incredible. She had some ‘downtime’ when her in-laws arrived to visit from Ireland. In the mornings they often looked after the children so on these occasions she equipped herself with her laptop and set off to watch the morning sunrise while working on her book in her profession of occupational therapy. You read correct:

Mother of two children

Businesswoman

Wrote a book

Over this condensed period (I think less than a month) she wrote 23,000 words, a manuscript that is now published. She’s an accomplished author. It’s inspiring. Her personality almost taunts the naysayer congregation. ‘Tell me I can’t do something and I’ll show you otherwise’. This post can be read in the context of achievement, but it would fail if that were the takeaway. Minnie can see through pretension clearer than an ultrasound. She’s all about fairness, equality, justice, understanding people and the reasons they behave the way they do. She gets complexity, particularly when it comes to mental illness, and honestly, I think this is an area where few truly can.

She met her now husband on the Transiberian railway 17 years ago while passing through Russia. How their union came about is a wonderful story. Rewind the clock and her now husband was supposed to be travelling to Australia with another friend. When his friend couldn’t make it, Minnie made contact and the two ultimately became travelling companions. This companionship soon developed into a budding romance, one built on friendship first, trust on respect. Talk about sliding doors. She recounts they both remember the moment when they fell in love. It was while playing pool in Yerkaterinberg and even though they often held hands it took them two months before they could speak about the ‘thing’ that had developed between them.

Minnie is petite but she has the presence and heart of a lion. You notice. She has this beautiful lilting Irish accent that echoes of wisdom, reason and maturity. Like a lion, she’s strong, loyal and I can imagine would fight tooth and nail for a friend if they were in trouble. She doesn’t care about a person’s status and history. Couldn’t give a toss. What counts is them as a person, here, now, today. She constantly reminds me through her actions to live for the present and to be grateful for everything.

Minnie leaves everything on the field (or course rather) and I find that truly admirable.

* Not her real name. ^ I can almost hear her interjecting here, saying not always the case but as author this was my observation.