Natalie Stockdale (Guest) · 03:10
Okay, thanks, Evelyn. I might start with, um, earlier on with, um, my childhood. I grew up in the country and my parents sent me to boarding school in Melbourne for 6 years. I boarded for 6 years and I actually hated boarding school, to be honest. I felt like I was imprisoned and I could not wait to get out and have freedom. So I had to stay in Melbourne after boarding school for compulsory education. My father said, "You're not to go anywhere, not to leave Melbourne until you're educated." So I thought the plan that came to mind was if I became a teacher, then I could teach anywhere in the world. I didn't have to be stuck in a city because I developed a very quick aversion to cities after being in boarding school. So I finished teachers' college and then I took off up to the Northern Territory and wanted to get— I wanted to go to the bush and to isolated areas for adventure and also to work with Aboriginal children. So I taught in a very isolated Aboriginal school in the middle of the Northern Territory. And then from, from there I went over to, over east to Queensland, to Outback Queensland, to Longreach area. And again, I wanted adventure and I wanted to teach and, and I wanted to be in the bush. So I taught as a governess on, on a sheep and cattle station in Western Queensland, um, met someone, we married, and, and I taught at School of the Air in, in Longreach when we married. And my husband at the time was an overseer on a sheep and cattle property not far out of town. We both thought, "Oh, this is very comfortable. This is nice." But we both sought more adventure and more challenge. So at the start or early on in the drought of 1990, the drought had already had its bite on the Longreach area. At the same time, the sheep prices, the wool prices collapsed. Land around Longreach was, was really cheap at that time. So we thought this is a good opportunity, perhaps our only opportunity to buy land. So we had a big, big mortgage and we bought a very rundown old sheep and cattle station which was 60,000 acres, about 100, 110 kays out of Longreach on the Thompson River. And we thought, we're both so young. I was in my early 20s, about 23 when we bought the station. And my husband was just a few, few years older, and we're both very optimistic but also very naive. We thought the wool prices will pick up and it's got to rain, it's got to rain soon, we both told ourselves. And it didn't, it didn't rain for, for years. And so I maintained my, my part-time job teaching at School of the Air, even though it was 110 k's to town on dirt road. And my husband was working a lot of the time off the station doing and also getting— making an income. And so I was on the station quite a lot of the time alone, and all my 3 major life challenges happened to start with D. So the first one that I'm about to describe was drought. So those drought years throughout my 20s and 30s were really, really tough. For me, the hardest part was watching the animals suffer. Particularly the sheep and the cattle. We had 7,000 sheep, and most of them died or were shot during the drought. And yeah, I was there alone a lot of the time, and sometimes it'd be weeks, weeks where I wouldn't see another human. But that was okay because I had certain resilience tools that I was applying unconsciously, but they enabled me to cope. So some of those include social contact, even though I wouldn't see people for weeks at a time. We had telephones, so I remember calling one particular neighbor who was a widow who lived next door on another station. We'd call each other once a week and check in with each other. Sometimes when my husband would come home, we'd invite other neighbors over or we'd go to neighbors' places and have social get-togethers. And we'd just savor those moments. Sometimes we'd have picnics on the river, on the very rapidly drying waterhole. And just savour those moments of joy until next time. Gratitude was another resilience tool that worked very well for me in those times. I was really grateful to have a home in the bush, grateful to have my loving and hardworking husband, and also very grateful for my pets. And my animals and pets were very important companions to me at the time, even my little chooks. I had little Bantam chooks, um, that would come, you know, sunset, they'd come up to the veranda and even sit on my lap and be patted. And I had a pet, our pet sheep, um, and, you know, cat and, and our Kelpies and some Jack Russells. So I had quite a menagerie of animals. And they, yeah, they, they, their company I always treasured and was always grateful for. And at sunset, when it cooled down, would I take the animals for a walk along the, the track. Sometimes with— I'd carry a handsaw and cut the mulga branches down for the sheep as we walked along. So although the drought was really tough, I did cope with it with those resilience tools that I just outlined. For people who haven't experienced droughts, I'll just share a brief story which illustrates how sad and how hard they can be. The 7,000 sheep were dying, but very slowly, slowly dying. Like with a flood or a bushfire, both horrific, but it's over quickly. But with droughts, it's very insidious and a slow, slow death and long-term suffering. And it wears you down and certainly wears the animals down. And at one stage, we had to make the decision, what do we do? We still have starving sheep. And we decided to shoot 2,000 sheep when my husband was home, um, one, one weekend. So we set up some portable steel sheep yards about 10 kilometers away from the house, and I was on my horse, my stock horse, and I was walking behind this mob of 2,000 sheep, and we're walking them to what became the killing yards. And my, my husband was also in a, in a ute and picking up the sheep who, you know, who collapsing and couldn't make it, and walk them to the killing yards and my husband had the rifle and he shot them all. I remember riding my horse back to the homestead hearing the bang of the bullets all the way. And it was heartbreaking because it's not really what we were expecting. We were wanting our animals to be flourishing and it was quite the antithesis of that. They were suffering and dying. So over years it does, anyone who's been through really severe Western Queensland droughts. It is tough, but as I said, I did have certain resilience tools that I was very grateful for. So in the outback, in the bush for my 20s and 30s, and then my husband at the time decided he had enough of grazing. So we thought, okay, well, let's start a new way of life. What are we going to do? Neither of us knew, so we thought, let's— follow our hearts and do some— just do something that would really lift our hearts and excite us. So after we sold our property, we both went on our individual dream holidays, and I went to the Bahamas to swim with dolphins. I just always thought that would be a wonderful thing to do, to swim with wild dolphins. So I flew over to the Bahamas, and unfortunately I arrived at the same time as a hurricane, Hurricane Rita, she was called. And so unfortunately I wasn't able to swim with the dolphins, but after the hurricane passed, I was able to sail with the dolphins. And that was the first time I'd ever been on a yacht, first time I'd ever sailed. And then there were the dolphins in the sea, and I absolutely fell in love with the dolphins, of course, but also with sailing and the ocean.— and I thought, "Wow, this is— ocean life is really for me." So that was a turning point. I met my husband back in— he had his experience too when we met back in San Francisco, and I was excited about my experience, he was excited about his experience. So we thought, "Let's create a new life based on these new interests." So we bought a lovely property on the far south coast of New South Wales. And it was, I think it was about 200 acres on a river estuary. And my husband had, he had his business plans with horses. And I ended up buying a yacht and started a sailing charter business with whales and dolphins. I wanted to really share my love and passion for animals, and particularly those animals with people. So I had my sailing charter business for a couple of years, and we were living— I was just so full of gratitude, was so happy. In fact, one of my girlfriends called our home Happy Valley because we had, um, our menagerie of animals, the stock horses that we'd brought from Queensland, um, our kelps and working kelpies, Jack Russells, more chooks. And also I adopted two Pigs who played Wilbur in Charlotte's Web, and they, um, they used to all live together in a, in a big undulating beautiful paddock with a lake. And anyway, life was pretty idyllic, and we had 3 daughters at that stage, and the 3 daughters were going to a nice little bush school. Anyway, I thought, um, and I was grateful, I was so grateful for everything that we had because it was such a contrast to our life in, in the outback. And I was so grateful that the girls were going to normal mainstream schools instead of school of the air. I was even grateful for the wheelie bins. There's a wheelie bin service so we didn't have to take our rubbish into our own big hole in the ground. And I was grateful that we had clean, like really clean water instead of dam water. Because in the bush when we had dam water, we couldn't have white clothes because everything just turns brown. So we actually had clear water and I remember being so grateful for that because it meant that we could have white clothes. Yeah, you know, it was— they were really happy golden times, but they were short-lived. So that brings me to the second D, or second challenge, which was divorce. My husband met someone else and the marriage ended after 18 years— together for 23 years and married for 18 years. And I wasn't ready for that, nor did I have the resilience tools that I needed for that. And I didn't cope with it well. I was stressed and I held on to my stress. And I made— I know now that when you are stressed, it affects your cognitive functions, including your decision-making. So I ended up making poor decisions, decisions that I would do, would have made differently now if I had these, if I had the skills that I now have. So I ended up going down to— I had to close my business, sell the yacht, close the business, and, um, and we had to sell the property as well. It was 2009, GFC, so we lost a lot of money on with everything with the sales. So I thought that if I go down to Melbourne, and by that stage I had a degree in animal welfare. And I thought if I go down to Melbourne, I could start again as a humane educator, teaching people about animal welfare. So I was lucky, very lucky, to be offered a job as a humane educator down in Melbourne. So I went down, and my 3 daughters didn't want to come with me because they I could completely understand they had an aversion to cities because they'd only been in the bush. They wanted to stay in their familiar surrounds. So I made the very tough decision. They didn't want to come with me, so I told them that I've got to go because I've got to provide for them and provide for me and for them. So I went down to Melbourne and they stayed up there in New South Wales with their father. That was absolutely heartbreaking, devastating. I remember driving away and looking in the rear-vision mirror, seeing my 3 girls huddling and crying in the mirror. Still makes me sad when I think about it now. And I went down to Melbourne and it was— even though I was among 4 million people in Melbourne, it was the loneliest time, loneliest experience I've ever had. Down there. But yet I was working as a humane educator and I thought this is— it's meaningful work and I'm being a role model for my girls, you know, to be a provider. So I battled on, I pushed through, and I didn't have the resilience tools that I used in the bush. I wasn't grateful. I wasn't grateful other than being grateful for my job opportunity. I wasn't grateful for anything else. I didn't have friends down there. I didn't have my animals. I didn't have the bush. I didn't have nature. I did exercise, I suppose that was one resilience tool that I applied at the time, but anyway, it wasn't enough. I lacked the tools that I needed to take care of myself. And consequently, 18 months after the marriage broke down, breakup, I ended up with the third D, disease. I ended up with cancer, with breast cancer. So that knocked me down for about a year. I had treatments, surgery. Thankfully, the surgeons did a fantastic job. I had a mastectomy and a rebuild and chose, despite all the pressure, I chose not to have chemo. I just wanted the cancer cut out, and then I just wanted to be left alone and to rebuild my health alone. That was just my choice. I'm not by any means saying this is what you should do, but that was what felt right for me despite the pressure. By the way, there was so much pressure by the medical industry to have more treatments including chemo, but anyway, that's aside. So I had survived the cancer. When I was recovering from the mastectomy and rebuild, that was a major operation. It's called a tram flap reconstruction. Some of the women who might be listening might have had experience with tram flap reconstruction, but it's quite a no-cuts a lot of muscles through your core and transplants that flesh from your belly area into the breast area. And it takes quite a long time to recover. I remember not being able to walk for about a week. And you know what, while I did recover, I thought I don't want to stay home and be miserable thinking about myself. I thought I want to use this time of my healing time to help animals again. And so there was a campaign, an issue in South Africa, an animal welfare issue that needed help, needed international help. So I voluntarily flew to South Africa and did some volunteer work helping an animal welfare campaign, which I'm glad I did because now I realize that having a purpose and kindness are actually— they are tools for resilience. So unconsciously, I was actually using those tools for resilience. And then I came back and then I was offered— and I had this amazing opportunity to work again in the animal welfare world for the Jane Goodall Institute, which is an organization that helps to promote protection of great ape chimpanzees, great apes, and also kindness to all animals. I ended up— I had the very good fortune of becoming the CEO of the Jane Goodall Institute Australia, and it was a very meaningful job, and I was so grateful for it. And I was there for nearly 4 years, and then— but all the time I was thinking, "Hmm, why did I become so sick when I've never been sick before and breast cancer is not in my family history?" So I thought, "Why?" And the oncologist— I asked the oncologists why, and they each each of them said, "Oh, it's random. Oh, you've been struck. It's just like being struck by lightning. It's just bad luck." But I thought there was probably more to the story, so I discovered the link between stress and disease. I realized— learned that when we hold on to stress and toxic negative depleting emotions for a long time, it compromises our immune system and opens the door to cancer. To disease, and in my case it was cancer. So I became more interested in personal development and in that link between stress and disease, and also between happiness and resilience. So I ended up resigning from my job and stepped aside from my work for animal welfare, which was a really, really hard decision actually. I felt a lot of guilt. With, with that decision because I thought I'm abandoning animals. Because I always thought up until then my life purpose was to be of service to animals. I really felt that in my heart, and it still actually is in my heart, but I needed to just step aside and go in a different, a different direction. So I resigned, and then I began the study of mind-body medicine and kinesiology and various stress management therapies such as the therapy from the Institute of HeartMath. And, um, I became very interested in, in that and I started my own wellness business or resilience training business called Stockdale Wellbeing back in, uh, 2018. And there I had a, a client and he was suffering from anxiety and he was pacing up and down. He was so agitated, he couldn't sit down. He was walking up and down so agitated. And he said, "How do other people make the pain go away? How do other people find happiness again?" And I thought, "Gosh, they are really good questions." And thinking back when I was going through my challenges of the divorce and all the trauma that that opened for me, I would have loved to have known how do other people rise from that type of trauma. Sorry for the interruption. This is Ian Westmoreland, the founder of Katsuki Heroes, and thank you for listening to this story from one of our amazing heroes. Our mission is for these stories to provide hope and inspiration to people experiencing life challenges and to also educate the broader community on how best to provide support. If you would like to help us continue to produce more hero stories and cover more adversity themes, we would welcome all donations. These can be made via our website, kintsugiheroes.com.au. The donate function is at the bottom of the homepage. We'd also welcome any feedback. You can email me direct using ian@kintsugiheroes.com.au. Now let's get back to the story. I was living on my yacht in the Sunshine Coast and COVID had begun. So I thought, this is a really good time to explore the answers to that question, how do other people rise from pain? So I wrote my first book while on the yacht. And my first book is actually here. It's called Campfire for the Heart. And it's a book of 30 people. They're all Australians, actually, 30 Australians. Including Lindy Chamberlain-Creighton, Matt Galinsky, Gail Shan. Quite a few of them I found on by watching Australian Story and Landline. And anyway, it is a book of 30 people and how they've risen from pain. And that brings me to where I am now. In 20 or 2022, I wrote my second book, same theme, but this time with my second book, which is called Campfire for a Woman's Heart. It features the story of 25 remarkable women women and how they have risen from pain and trauma to happiness and peace and self-empowerment. But from both my own life experience and all my study of mind-body medicine and stress management, as well as writing the stories of many, many people who have risen from hardship successfully, I have formulated or distilled a list of 25 resilience tools. And what I do now, when— if I am facing hardships or challenges, which are ongoing, of course, just because we're resilient, it doesn't mean that we don't face ongoing challenges, that challenges and hardships are an inevitable part of life experience. But what I do now when they occur is I think about my list. Sometimes I even actually look at my list of 25 tools and I ask myself, what tools do I need to apply now to help me through and help me rise from this challenge. So I have now accumulated a bank. So my advice to people who are suffering or who maybe have experienced any of those, you know, droughts and divorces or diseases or any other trauma, my advice is to be prepared. Be prepared for pain with a robust bank of resilience tools. Actually write them down. Write them down and draw upon those that you need. And there'll be different tools for different situations. One of the most common that I use is called the Stockdale Paradox. James Stockdale was an American soldier during Vietnam and his plane was shot down. As he was descending down into Vietnam, he knew that his life was changed. He knew that he was going to face hardship. And as he was descending, he knew that he would— that he would— it would not only be a turning point in his life, but it would actually be an experience that he wouldn't trade. He would turn this hardship into a positive experience. And how did he do that? He ended up there tortured and imprisoned for 7 and a half years. Although he suffered, he did manage to survive and thrive. And how did he? One of his main keys, has now become known as the Stockdale Paradox. So he always maintained optimism that he would prevail, he would get through this, but he balanced that with realism. He addressed the reality of the situation. He didn't put his head in the sand. He addressed the reality of the situation and did what he had to do in order to survive, but he never gave up. He never gave up. And I know with Lindy Chamberlain-Creighton, when she was in her abyss after she was falsely accused of murdering her baby Azariah. And she was in prison and she was treated very badly in prison. And, um, in the book— before the book, um, Linda shared with me that she also used the Stockdale Paradox. She, she knew it was going to be hard. She didn't pretend it was going to be a holiday in prison. And she was given dreadful jobs, awful jobs to do in prison, but she just rolled up her sleeves and got on with it, faced the reality of it, but never, never gave up. She always knew that the truth would prevail. So that's the Stockdale Paradox. Another very useful tool that I use is acceptance, just accepting what you can't change and finding peace with that rather than resisting, resisting, resisting all the time. I do have a storyteller in my first book, Campfire for the Heart, Bill Brayshaw, he talks about acceptance and how he used it when he was 5 years old. His story is called A Northern Territory Love Story. He's from the Northern Territory. When he was 5 years old, during the war, during the Second World War, they had a Polish refugee staying on their farm. And he said the family all went out working on the farm and every morning their cat would just climb into their wood stove to warm up while the door was open, and then, you know, cat would be warm. And then this one particular morning, the Polish refugee didn't realise the cat's routine and he closed the door on the cat accidentally, or not realising the cat was there, and stoked the stove and burnt the cat. And Bill Brayshaw, a little 5-year-old, came into the kitchen with his family and they could all smell and see that what had happened. And someone opened up the door of the oven, and he said Bill was crouched down looking into the oven, saw the dead cat, burned cat, and he said he turned around to his family who were all looking at him, all waiting for his reaction, and he said he had to accept it. He said there was no, no point, no point in wishing it didn't happen and in becoming distressed about it because it had happened. Acceptance. And he said, never forget the first time he used acceptance, and he used it throughout his life with all the other various, you know, tragedies and challenges that he faced. So that's very important. Detachment is another one. Detachment is when— it's often misunderstood. Sometimes people think detachment means you don't care, but detaching doesn't mean you don't care. Detachment means when you can step back from a situation and look at it with objectivity. You can feel the emotions, but you don't get caught up in the emotions. You don't let the emotions control you. An example of a time where I used detachment was not long after my mastectomy and my rebuild, and I actually— I'm scarred from hip to hip all the way across, and it's quite a prominent scar from the surgery. And I went to a bathers shop, and I wanted— and I asked the sales lady for bikinis that would be high enough to cover my scar. And she said, "Ah, breast cancer these days is just like catching a cold." She said, "You just get a little sniff, then you get over it." And I thought, wow, to myself I thought, wow, that's a really interesting response about breast cancer when, you know, so many women die of it and it impacts probably most of us in some— either directly or indirectly. But But that was her experience, so I practiced detachment. I just paused, thought, well, that's her level of understanding, and let it go. I didn't let it upset me, but I didn't buy her bikinis either. But that's— detachment is also very healthy. Sincere self-care is another one. And I don't mean self-care like lighting a candle, having a bath. I mean really asking yourself how you would like to be treated. It means— sincere self-care means treating yourself as you would treat someone that you really love. So sometimes self-care means asking people— if you're living with someone, it means asking people to understand that you need something, you know, like you need some— 'You need to be alone,' or, 'You need to go and do something.' It's sincere self-care. Having a life purpose is another tool. Almost every storyteller in my Campfire books talk about how their tragedy or trauma has presented them with a life purpose. I think that's very helpful. Steve Parrish is one of the storytellers in the first book. He's the renowned photographer, wildlife and nature photographer. And he talks about a creative life purpose, having a creative life purpose. When we have a life purpose, it helps us to focus on what, what matters to us rather than being just distracted by other things. Um, and our life purpose is dynamic. It can change. Like, mine used to be to, um, to be of service to animals, and that is still very much a part of who I am, but it's not entirely who I am and why I get up every day. Now my creative life purpose is about fostering love and kindness, so to animals, to nature, to each other, and also to ourselves. I think the world would be so much better if we were all kinder and more loving, because we can choose peace. We can choose to be peaceful. We can choose joy. We can choose happiness. It's a— it is a choice.