How This Blog Began

I originally wrote this as my “About” page on 13th June 2017, however on 28th October I’ve moved it to act as an introduction to “The Illness”, as although it was how this blog began, I am feeling the need to exercise written cathartis less frequently now.

It is important to me that I honour the extremely tough period I went through though for it has truly made me, and is what started my exploration into minimalism.

Hi there, I’m Lani, pleasure to meet you!


Well, this was me in happier, healthier times – sometime in the warm New Zealand spring of 2015 – before I was prescribed two medications for a problem it turned out I didn’t have. I’m still me, but the chaos which ensued beneath my hard-earned 6-pack has turned my life upside down and (nearly) wiped the child-like grin off my currently-pale face as I struggle to regain my health, whilst trying to grow a business and attack the goals I’ve always so tightly held for myself.


This is me more recently – still Lani, but older and wiser, 10kg lighter and $10,000 poorer. In May 2017 (as I write this, that’s last month) my body finally signaled it’d had enough of pouring out of an empty cup by giving me a “quinsy”, or “peritonsillar abscess” (think pain, needles, scalpels, and a lot of blood), complete with three nights in hospital.

In hindsight I was bound to end up there at some point, but more about that in my first post.

What I’m recovering from is a chronic digestive disorder called SIBO. Treatment is unpleasant and in New Zealand, somewhat experimental and costly. Fortunately it seems likely I will be reimbursed under our government’s “Medical Treatment Injury” cover, since I developed it as a result of incorrect medical treatment. My prior impeccable health has no bearing on my ability to overcome it, and although the severity of the illness inhibits me from living my normal life, the good news is that I will recover fully, with time and patience.

Normal life for me looks like this: 4.45am starts, nice long gym workouts before “work” (I’m one of the lucky ones whose work doesn’t really feel like work in the traditional sense, but I don’t know what else to call it) interspersed with copious amounts of homemade peanut butter. Outside the daily grind lies numerous the odd espresso martini or Gewurztraminer, brunch with friends and family, running, singing and coaching a choir, planking poolside (evidently), playing various musical instruments, “working” some more, reading about everything and writing about finance, food prepping, renovating my home into my dream home, figuring out the least arduous way of cracking open macadamia nut shells from my garden – you know, all the good things in life. I intend to add to, adjust, and re-prioritise these activities once I’m well, which will be exciting and maybe even blogworthy.

Over the last twelve months I’ve found sporadic journalling to be extremely (and, unsurprisingly) cathartic and for some time now have been contemplating making my journey public, for not only my sanity¬†benefit, but others’ too. You see, the lessons arising from chronic illness are bountiful. They have changed me, they have improved me, they have opened my eyes, such that I feel compelled to share them in the hopes that someone else can learn and grow as I have, without the undesirable catalyst of adversity.


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