More than two and a half years ago I started this blog as a way to express a voice inside of me that was abruptly communicating in a language I could understand. When I started writing here I was in a process of discovering who I was. Who was Tresna Lee once I removed myself from a 12 year relationship, the corporate job and a life that was based on what I thought I “ought” to do?

The process of writing, and comments that came from others, was a large part of moving closer to finding that answer.

With time the voice turned inward, my notes became more cryptic and my desire to share intimate thoughts with an unknown audience were overtaken by a mixture of self consciousness and desire to defend my privacy and of those who I was close to.

I still write, but now it remains unpublished. It’s helped me to express myself more clearly (without my internal editor wanting to have a say or pick on my grammar) and it’s actually enhanced my self awareness because I’m not stunted by self censoring.

I read something earlier this year, I now can’t even remember where, but a sentence stuck with me…

“Don’t fall in love with the original idea”.

In the context of the article it related to entrepreneurial endeavours, that the first idea you think is so kick-ass amazing may not be THE idea that has legs enough to stand on.

For the longest while I’ve felt like a neglectful parent, having abandoned this place and letting the months slip by. Occasionally I fret about what is and isn’t visible. I feel like I have to follow through with the original idea. Here I am struggling with things I feel I “ought” to do, rather than what I want to, just as I was three years ago. Holding on out of obligation only stymies what is to come… whatever that may be.

So in the next little while Dear Universe will be packed up and put away in storage, perhaps to be picked over in the future. As too will other projects that once I ferociously fought for but now days can’t (don’t want to) muster the same levels of energy for.

I’m happy with my current way of discovering who I am. In the mean time if you really want to know who Tresna Lee is, perhaps we should have a martini sometime.

Wash a tumbler with Absinth and fill it with ice.

Fill the botom of a Boston with ice while you’re at it.

Add in 30ml of a hard Gin, 60ml cloudy apple juice, 3 drops of Plum Bitters.

Stir.

Lovingly stir…

Strain. Drink. Rinse. Repeat.

I know. I know. I’ve been a bit quiet and haven’t shown you much love lately.  Trust me, there’s lots of started letters, photos taken with you in mind…..you’ve been in my thoughts but I’ve not quite had the words to explain what’s going on.

Let just say I’ve been busy. Distracted. Consumed. I’ll get around to explaining some time, but for now I’ll let you in on a little project of mine that’s just had a bit of kudos thrown it’s way.

Geisha 2.0 was an idea that started almost a year ago. It began over coffee with Eddie – me talking excitedly about friends I’d taken out the week before for an eating adventure in the city.  He sensed my passion, noting the way my eyes lit up as I described exploring Melbourne’s food and wine with good friends and conversation.  “Why don’t you do it as a job?” he suggested.

Having just finished a shift, my hair was tied up with pens stuck through the back. Eddie said I looked like a Geisha – and that what I “do” was similar to the way they create hospitable environments for people to relax and enjoy themselves. The name “Geisha 2.0” got thrown in. Cue Laughter. Realisation. The idea found a nook in my brain and I let it rattle around for a few months, seeing how it felt…

A long story short – I woke up one day knowing that’s what I was. A taste lover. An experience seeker. A nurturer. A conversationalist. An energy builder. Most of all, a dreamer.

I could be a modern-day Geisha – and I was ready to take on Melbourne.

Walking to the station playing grown-ups in our suits,

we both feel like 17 year olds.

Our fingers poke out from our sleeves,

reach for one another –

perhaps as a way to test the reality of the situation.

You put money on my myki, and

for the rest of the day as I touch on and off

I am reminded

of the way you kissed me at the traffic lights –

both a hello and a goodbye

pressed in to my mouth with your lips.

You are half way to Paris. Somewhere there is an empty seat – 17 and a half inches of space that was supposed to be mine for 13 hours.

Don’t take it personally. I did the same thing about the same time last year – letting the Eurostar leave London without me and instead choosing to take the biggest leap of my life.   Who would have thought that Paris could be less appealing than a little city way down here in Australia?

Paris less appealing than Melbourne?

Well I’m telling you that right now, for me, it is.  Melbourne is where it’s at and for so many delicious reasons.

In staying I get to spend more time with the friends who make me happy.  People like Michael and Andrea, Dom, Em,  Claire, Joanna and Kate.  People who push the boundaries of what I think is possible.  People who make me feel like skipping.

In staying I get to drink coffee each day in my favourite spots. Places like here, here and here.

In choosing Melbourne over Paris I can visit old faithfuls like Cumulus, Movida Aqui and The Middle Park Hotel and continue to disover newcomers like PM24 and Union Dining. I get to dance. I get to eat.

Staying means I get to grow my new little business Geisha 2.0 and work slowly on my passion project foodhands.

Being in Melbourne means I get to attend Mindful and spend time with people I admire like Jules and Jan. I get to see if we can get Lex to Australia just through the power of awesomeness and generosity.

In not visiting Paris I get to, instead, have my first birthday celebration since that day.

So I know I left you waiting – your engine running and you feeling a little under appreciated as you sat with an empty seat way up in the back. I know you wonder why I wouldn’t want Paris and it’s croissants, Louvre and endless cheese…..

Well, it’s because here in Melbourne I have everything I need.  Here in Melbourne I have an expansive horizon and a heart that is cracked open as far as I imagine it could possibly ever be.

So have a safe journey. Send my regards to the Eiffel Tower.

Sometimes we feel like we have gone full circle – as if we have returned to the beginning.

Perhaps it is not the beginning at all, but the natural end?

A year ago I broke your heart in just a few sentences.  We had twelve years together – a life equally divided down the middle and a future built with two sets of hands. Who would have thought that everything we dreamed for ourselves would be played out in different parts of the world, surrounded by different people and and running along seperate paths.

Last week at work, at the end of service, a group of us were standing around polishing glasses and singing songs that use the name of a person within the lyrics.  Who knows how it started, but that’s the kind of mindless thing that seems to happen at one o’clock in the morning after a particularly long night running around in a restaurant. Well, that and the consumption of numerous drinks….

Anyway, someone asked me if anyone had ever written a song that had my name in it.  Little did they know!

My name means love and the radio is filled with songs of love found, love lost and everything in between.

As I walked home that evening I got to thinking about love and the ways in which we express it to the people in our lives. Why do we feel more loved by some people than others? Why is it hard to express our feeling of love, of affection and care, to some people and not to others? Why does it sometimes feel impossible to say the words “I love you” to one person and not another?

Gary Chapman wrote a book years ago called the 5 Love Languages.  I remember being an early teenager when I first read it and not really understanding it beyond the context of my parents and the way in which they expressed love for me. My Mum gave words of affirmation and my Dad performed acts of service, perhaps why it was always more obvious to me that Mum loved me – we speak the same language. Words actually speak louder than actions to me.   If we acknowledge that people communicate love, and feel loved, in different ways I think we get better communication within our relationships.

Love isn’t all about romance, flowers and sappy George Cloony films.  It’s about tenderness, compassion and feelings of connectedness with other human beings. Love is the stuff inside you that feels good, the opposite of fear and all that is positive in this world wrapped up in to a single concept that can be expressed in the English language with just four letters.

Or, if you speak Balinese, just six little letters that spell out the word Tresna.

My door is open.

Would you care to send some visitors?