Editor’s letter

Itry hard not to sweat the small stuff, to not worry about the things which aren’t important in the bigger scheme of things. My husband would certainly agree that’s my philosophy on the home front and suggest perhaps I could be a little less laidback sometimes. He’s more likely to interpret my “don’t sweat the small stuff” mantra as a big fat excuse for being messy. He might be on to something there.

Anyway, at work I’m pretty calm most of the time, considering how busy it gets. But occasionally there’s one of those days where the pressure is on, everyone needs something from you and things progressively get on top of you. And then they snowball! I’m sure many readers will know the feeling.

Friday was one of those days. The magazine was on deadline and I had an extra project due. It had been a tough morning – the end of term means the kids are tired and narky, and my husband was away – but I zoomed in early to finish some intense writing. After three hours of interruptions and trying to keep my cool, I finally finished.

And then I lost the whole thing. True story. I didn’t know you could get pins and needles in your face, but that’s how it felt as I went into minor meltdown mode. I flipped out, drank a peppermint tea, slowly calmed down ... and started again. When I finished and my thermostat had reset, I breathed deep and began editing stories for this issue.

Then I read Calli Cleland’s story (page 38) and everything paled into insignificance. She’d lost her soulmate of 15 years – the beautiful man she met at her school ball, wed and had four lovely children with. In the blink of an eye, he was gone, struck down crossing a road a block from our office. I read and wept. It was a stark and tragic reminder of how precious life is. We never know what the next day will bring. For me, it put the world into perspective in a heartbeat, a reminder to cherish every moment and hold your loved ones close.

My love and thoughts go to Calli and her girls.