Kathleen from Brisbane has a snazzy fold up Brompton which fits under her desk.

She says “I haven’t figured out the clothes thing. I can keep my top cool, but am I the only one who ends up with a sweaty bum?” Um, nope.

Kathleen, please email us at info@sarahwilson.com.au with your contact details, and one of Cyclestyle‘s gorgeous bike baskets will be on it’s merry way to you shortly!

Enjoy x

As many readers of this blog might have gathered, I’ve recently packed up and gone north for a few months to write a book. To be starting a new chapter feels fresh under the armpits and frolicky in my soul. As you might have gathered from posts of late, I’m also very anxious. It’s the biggest project I’ve set out to complete.

It feels like I’m stepping into a brand new field.

To answer a few questions:

Why north?

I’ve come to the Byron hinterland (the trees and hills back from the coast) because it’s 10 hours from my distractions. I say this a lot here – these days you can’t whinge about being interrupted or bombarded and not getting anything done. Because you will be constantly. This is life now. So it’s up to to put up your own parameters. And install the barbed-wire fencing. I tell everyone I’m away for a few months, they leave me alone and will forgive me for not returning emails. Also, I won’t be tempted to take on a quick MC job, or help some charity launch an appeal or duck out to have a coffee with some guy working on a cool project who wants my thoughts etc.

Also, I love heat and steaminess and trees and hills and up here I’m myself. I’m not a city girl.

Finally, up here, on my own, I’m scared. I have no mobile reception. Which I love. Being scared is good. It jolts. It forces the mind to grasp at new things.

What’s the book?

I was commissioned a year ago by a publisher to write a book. It’s due this month. I’ve not started. I have an extension (ergo, I’m getting serious and heading north). It’s a bit like my Sunday Life column, a bit like this blog, but includes all the bits in the background. It’s not memoir, it’s not self-help. It’s…well, it’s yet to be written.

Perfectly, I have to be my truest self to write this damn thing. I have to be my message. And, so…

This is what I’m doing with my blog…

It will be business as usual, mostly.

This week I get over myself

Is there anything more refreshing than a good ole “get over yourself” whack to the noggin? There you are having some first-world, self-righteous, control-freakish throw down  – your latte arrives cold and made with non-chemically decaffeinated beans, you have under-thigh burn because one of the kids left the heated car seat dial on high – and someone mentions their baby has cancer. Or that they’ve lost their business. It makes us pull our head in. And get perspective.

Recently we got a collective whack. There we were, complaining about a $179 parking ticket (as I was) or a broken toaster or whatever, and footage started rolling in of Queensland families who’d lost everything – the car, the toaster, their livelihoods and loved ones. It was insta-perspective.

I think we enjoy these whacks. They pull our greed, our negativity and our listlessness into line and remind us what life’s all about. They build a bridge so we can get over ourselves and onto more grounded pastures.

This week I enjoyed such a whack. On Tuesday I chatted with Nick Vujicic, a Californian-based Australian motivational speaker. Vujicic ‘s 27 and has no arms or legs. He was born this way and now travels the world trying to remind people how to get over themselves.

My first video*. Rather thrilled. Especially since it’s an interview with David Gillespie, the author of Sweet Poison, who inspired me to quit sugar almost three weeks ago. It was a stinker of a day when we did this in the garden of one of my favourite Bondi cafes, Greens.

It’s a little long. We tried to edit it. But he answers so many of the questions you’ve all been asking, such as:

What’s the deal with chocolate? Why is a glass of juice more fattening than a glass of milk (when the bottle says “fat-free”)? How long do cravings last? What to look for on packets?

Tell me what you think…

* Thank you to Jo for her handy cam work. And for those who followed my search on Twitter for the best, most elegantly simple video camera for use on a blog, all informed and passionate feedback pointed to The Flip. So that’s what I went with.

I wrote a post recently on what I wear on my bike…how to dress to ride…sans lyrca. I write these blogs to inspire you to ride a bike. My motivations are pure!

Here, a few extra pics and some that you lot sent in (thank you!). Also, our friend  Joyce from Cyclestyle has VERY kindly offered to giveaway an oval wicker bike basket (see below). As an aside, Joyce just gave birth four days ago, 10 days late!  The criteria will be…hmmmm…someone who’s just embraced bike funesss…a new recruit! Send in a pic via the comments of your new wheels (and a cute outfit) if you can.

I found these pics of Baba – an Australian stylist living in Paris who I interviewed years ago when I was a feature writer at Sunday Magazine. Gala Darling posted them on her blog recently and did a wonderful write up on Baba. A gorgeous read.

Baba uses black leggings creatively. Have black leggings. Will travel (even in f*ck off stillettos in the snow).

Reader Cammy this week asked me this:

“I’m an anxious person, very annoying, but you have made me feel like maybe I can deal with it. Thanks!! How do you deal with anxiety and  enjoy things when you’re feeling anxious. Please! I would love to know what you do.”

I’m a very anxious person. It’s the background soundtrack to my existence. When you’re an anxious person, you notice things a lot. I’ve noticed there are different types of anxiety. But regardless, I reckon the beat (or buzz) of the soundtrack is the same. It’s common to the human experience.

At different stages in my life anxiety has ruled, and crippled, me.

The thing is, you can struggle with it. Or you can work with it. I don’t think we’re not meant to be anxious. I don’t think we’re not meant to be anything. We just are.

Happiness is generally impossible for longer than 15 minutes. We are the descendants of creatures who, above all else, worried.” Alain de Botton

Worrying about worrying is very familiar to the anxious person. Constant monitoring of your level of “Hey, I’m cool”-ness is too. Ditto, thinking that everyone else goes home content and anxiety-free, jumps into bed and sleeps sound.

I reckon we all get to the bathroom mirror on our way to the bedroom at night and look at ourselves and wonder if we’re doing this caper called life right. None of us are. All of us are.

I love Stephen Fry for the fact he reminds us of this, constantly sharing on Twitter his doubt and anxiety and sadness. Dave Eggers, too, in interviews.

Anxiety has made my life good

I don’t particularly feel like dwelling on the anxiety bit of Cammy’s question. The “how do I enjoy things” bit is more interesting. I think anxiety pushes us. It exists to do so – it’s part of the flight or fight mechanism and helps us friggen fire up.