Tag: Melbourne

  • Embracing the Suck… and Quitting (Yes, Really)

    At the start of this year, I decided it was high time to add another “adventurous me” badge to my collection: get a scuba diving license.

    Simple, right? I mean, I’ve run long distances for fun. I’ve trekked to Everest Base Camp. Surely, hanging out underwater, looking at fish, would be a breeze.

    Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

    Step 1: The Online Exam That Would Not End

    First came the RAID certification. Ten-plus hours of e-learning, dense manuals, videos, and quizzes designed to make you question every life decision you’ve ever made. The online exam felt like the final boss of a video game.

    I scored 86.6%. Yes, oddly specific, and yes, I celebrated like I’d just won an Olympic medal. Little did I know, this was only the warm-up.

    Step 2: Four Days in the Pool… and the Ocean

    Next up: four days of practical training.

    • Day One (Pool): Wow. This is serious.
    • Day Two (Ocean): Okay… I’m getting the hang of this.
    • Day Three (Ocean): I hate this.
    • Day Four (Ocean): Well… more on that later.

    Each day brought a new set of skills to master. And by “master,” I mean: perform them perfectly under pressure or face the terrifying possibility of having to do them again. In the pool, I could fake it. In the ocean… less so.

    The whole experience was supposed to be joyful — a break from the everyday, a chance to explore the underwater world. Instead, it became intense, serious, and, honestly, exhausting. Less “finding Nemo” and more “subaquatic performance review.”

    Step 3: Embrace the Suck… Navy SEAL Style

    There’s a famous phrase from the Navy SEALs: embrace the suck. The idea is simple: life will suck sometimes, so lean in, grit your teeth, and push through.

    I leaned in… and promptly realized something important. I wasn’t enjoying this. I wasn’t good at this. And, most importantly, there was no joy in sight.

    And that’s when it hit me: maybe embracing the suck doesn’t always mean push harder. Sometimes it means: admit this isn’t for you.

    Step 4: The Radical Art of Quitting

    On day four, I did something I rarely do: I quit.

    No dramatic exit. No shame. Just a quiet, deliberate, unapologetic nope. I walked away, and do you want to know the best part?

    I felt amazing.

    That weekend, I went back to the things that genuinely bring me joy — running, hiking, CrossFit — and had a renewed appreciation for my own “normal” adventures. I was relieved, happy, and, dare I say, proud.

    Step 5: Lessons From Sucking at Scuba

    This experience taught me several important things:

    1. Courage isn’t always about perseverance. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to walk away.
    2. It’s okay to suck at something. Really. You don’t have to be good at everything you try.
    3. Joy is a compass. If it’s gone, maybe that’s a signal.
    4. Embrace the suck… but selectively. Navy SEALs have one approach; life has many. Sometimes the bravest move is quitting with grace.

    So here’s my official advice for 2026: try new things. Fail spectacularly. Suck at something. And know that walking away doesn’t make you weak — it makes you human.

    After all, life’s too short to do things that aren’t fun (and, yes, that includes scuba, apparently).

  • Supernormal: Out of this world every time

    Stepping into Supernormal feels like walking into a space where great food, impeccable service, and good vibes collide. Whether you’re there to celebrate a special occasion or just grabbing a casual lunch, this gem promises – and delivers – a memorable experience.

    What makes Supernormal so extraordinary is its ability to make every guest feel welcome. It’s not just about the fantastic dishes (which are a delight in their own right), but the way the staff treats you like a VIP, no matter how you show up.

    Denim shorts and a t-shirt? No makeup? Full glam? It doesn’t matter. You have the freedom to show up 100% as your true self, in whichever way that is and Supernormal’s team ensures you feel comfortable and valued, bringing the same warmth, care, and attention each time. This kind of consistent, inclusive service is rare and sets them apart.

    You leave Supernormal not just full but already plotting your next visit. It’s like they’ve sprinkled something addictive in the air – or maybe it’s just the dumplings. Either way, Supernormal isn’t just out of this world; it’s the kind of place you’ll wish was just around the corner from your house.

    If you haven’t been yet, fix that. And if you have, you know exactly what I’m talking about.