As Nan raises the bat to celebrate clocking up the 100, may you enjoy this collection of 100 life lessons from the delightfully pragmatic to the simply profound, and always have the confidence to be unapologetically yourself.

Meet ‘Queen Pauline’

Born in Birmingham in 1922, if you haven’t had the honour of meeting her, Pauline Kermode (but you can call her Nan) is as sharp and witty as they come. A woman whose ripple effect trickles out far beyond anything she would ever comprehend, Nan is known for her sense of humour, her hearty laugh and her enlighteningly pragmatic approach to life.

She has long instilled in me a keen sense of fairness, a healthy dose of perspective and the love of a well-made cup of tea, and while she has experienced her fair share of trauma and tragedy, there is a distinct lightness to her that draws you in and makes you feel safe.

Leaving school at 14, she has worked in various jobs throughout her life — as a French polisher, a bookkeeper, in the Army Pay Corps, and even as an Avon Lady. She excelled in making lemon meringue pies, casseroles, anything with pastry, and she made an iconic chocolate cake with glacé cherries, which she would painstakingly balance in a container on her lap on the train from Albury to Melbourne to celebrate every single one of our birthdays growing up. A talented dressmaker and seamstress, she grew up during the Depression and bought her wedding dress with ration coupons. And my whole life she has worn the same wavy perm, had Nivea-soft skin, and a seemingly endless supply of Gingernut Snaps. For all intents and purposes, these things might make her appear like many other women of her era. But in so many ways, Nan is so unlike any of the women of her era.

A crack shot with a .22 calibre rifle, a 9mm pistol and a submachine gun on both sides, she moved to Australia and learned to drive in her 50s; went on her first rollercoaster in her 60s; travelled the world in her 70s; could do a headstand and cartwheel with ease well into her 80s; and helped me design a pair of Titillating Tassel earrings in her 90s. I told you, she is no ordinary grandma. 

With plenty of stories and sagacity to share, from the delightfully pragmatic to the simply profound, her wise words have given me a roadmap to help navigate everything that life has thrown at me so far. And having just taken her 100th loop-the-loop around the sun, I can think of no better way to honour her than to share 100 of the life lessons she has generously shared with me, with you. Think of it as ‘Queen Pauline’s Pocket Wisdom’ for a life well-lived. Enjoy!

On being yourself

1. Be yourself, no one else can be you.

Arguably the thing she utters more than any other, a reminder to always be yourself because ‘no one else can be you’ and ‘there really is not pointing trying to be anybody else, is there?’. She often then follows this with a rousing rendition of a line from Gerard Manly Hopkins’ When Kingfishers Catch Fire: ‘Whát I dó is me: for that I came,’ even if she butchers it slightly. 

2. Each to their own, as long as you’re not hurting anyone.

Her way of reminding us that you needn’t worry about what others are doing, that you can go about your life, as long as you’re not hurting anyone else. 

3. Please yourself.

Similar to the above, an important reminder to put your own oxygen mask on first and to do the things that bring you joy and contentment, regardless of the judgment of others. 

4. You don’t have to spend your life pleasing someone else.

I bet there are a fair few of us who wish they’d learned this one earlier in life. 

5. Don’t go losing yourself for anyone.

And that one.

6. Your life is the only thing you’ve really got that’s yours. 

She’s not wrong. And too many of us spend time wishing ours were different.

7. You must always have confidence in yourself.

Nan always says that, when she was called up to the ATS (Auxiliary Territorial Service), “that’s where I got my confidence.” Processing the pays for soldiers fighting overseas, writing ‘I’m sorry to inform you’ letters to loved ones, and visiting wounded soldiers in the local hospitals, so much of who she is — a generous and loyal person, with a strong sense of duty — was formed in those early days in the Army Pay Corps. She would also say that she “walked a little taller knowing that she was doing something useful”, which is a good reminder to us all to be of service first, and the confidence will come. 

8. We are not all the same, and that’s a good thing. Can you imagine how boring the world would be if we were?

Whenever I would lament that I wasn’t seeing eye to eye with someone, she would remind me that there is beauty and strength to be found in our differences. 

9. If you pretend you’re something you’re not, you’re bound to slip up somewhere.

10. Just be who you are, you have nothing to lose then. 

On her 100th birthday, journalist Sophie Else from the Border Mail came to interview Nan. She put together this great article, and was also generous enough to share the recording with me. So, if you want to hear a snippet of Nan saying this very thing, in her own words, you can listen below. 

11. Good, bad or ugly — you’re you. What you do and who you are is entirely up to you.

Keeping up appearances and trying to be someone you’re not is exhausting, and you won’t be any good at it anyway — because you can only be you. It’s little wonder that she’s lived so long, when she hasn’t wasted an ounce of energy trying to be anyone else except for herself. 

12. You’ve only got one life, LIVE IT. 

Always said with much gusto, these seven and a half words are ones she utters daily, imploring us all to get out there and live our lives. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint Queen Pauline, would you?

On living a good life

13. ‘What is this life, if full of care, you have no time to stand and stare?’

Quoting the opening two lines of the poem ‘Leisure’ by Welsh poet W. H. Davies (1911), you will not have a conversation with Nan where she doesn’t remind you of this. A poignant and powerful reminder that if we are too ‘busy’ rushing about with our heads down and bums up, we will miss the things that make this life great. 

14. You’re only here once. Make the most of it every day. 

Basically the Nan version of ‘YOLO’, you are probably starting to sense a theme here — you’ve got one life, live it, don’t waste it pleasing others, and please yourself instead (as long as you’re not hurting anyone).

15. Look around and enjoy what you ‘do’ have. 

16. Make sure you’ve always got something green to look at. 

17. What’s the good in being perfect, you’ve got nothing to aim for? 

18. As long as you know you can do it, you don’t have to bother. 

Never one to prove anything to anybody, or to extend herself overly much in the name of ‘achievement’. She calls it ‘lazy,’ I call it economical.

19. Don’t concern yourself with thoughts of what you ‘should’ be doing. Just be. 

We waste so much time ‘shoulding’ all over ourselves, a reminder to be more human be-ing, less human do-ing.

20. Life wasn’t meant to be this difficult and half the time it’s our own damn fault!

Life is hard enough, you don’t need to add extra layers of things to feel bad about. And while she wouldn’t use these words exactly, I interpret this as her reminder to me to watch the stories we are telling ourselves and not to double down by feeling sad about feeling sad, or feeling guilty about feeling guilty. 

21. Allow yourself to feel good.

This might seem overly simplistic, but in a society that makes a helluva lot of money out of finding the bits that hurt and pressing them harder, to actually allow yourself to feel good — or give yourself permission to put the guilt and the shame and the fear aside for a moment — is a radical act.

22. “You could believe in yourself, you know?”

I know, Nan, but ugh, do I have to? 

23. ‘Geddon’ with it, just throw out your chest, and lift your chin.

Whenever Nan needed a bit of gumption or the strength to do something hard, she seemed to channel her Mum. A fierce and no-fuss woman (so I’m told), standing all of five foot tall, Nan once told me that “she never let anything knock her down and keep her there. And, boy, did she live through some things that could have knocked her down.” Chest out, ladies.

24. Don’t tidy up too much, it is the mess that makes the house a home.

Nan always kept a tidy home, but she would allocate cleaning to certain days and times. The rest of the week — she wouldn’t worry about it, for this very reason. Similar to her recital of ‘what is this life if full of care,’ I am reminded of the poem by Rose Milligan that begins: 

‘Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better

To paint a picture, or write a letter,

Bake a cake, or plant a seed;

Ponder the difference between want and need?’

25. Always have music on around the house.

Because why would you walk from one room to another when you can dance? 

26. A little bit of everything is good for you.

27. Half a dozen chips will do. 

Said no one ever, except Nan.

28. Everything in moderation.

These last three lessons would be the extent of her ‘diet’ tips. Of course, she grew up in a time of rationing, but in her adult years, she never restricted herself, or beat herself up over having a piece of cake or a couple of biscuits. You could eat whatever you like, as long as it was always in moderation. Anything else is just greedy.

29. Look at the situation and think: can I control it? If you can, then do something about it. If you can’t, then there’s no point in worrying about it.

30. ‘Where else would you live?’ 

Ok, this one needs a bit of context. A few years ago, Mum and I went to a mindfulness class. When Mum told Nan about it, she said: ‘what in the devil is that?’ You know, a class where you learn to live in the present moment, to which she replied, rather matter of factly: ‘Well, where else would you live?’ It was quite unthinkable to her that you would spend an ounce of your time (or a dollar of your hard-earned money) thinking too much about the past or trying to predict the future. ‘What a waste of life, and what a waste of money’. We’ve had to tell her that it doesn’t come quite as naturally to the rest of us, and we have to learn (or unlearn) it!

On being a good listener

Nan is possibly the most patient and skilled of listeners I’ve ever met. There’s no hidden agenda, no need to be ‘right’ or to problem solve, she simply understands the magnitude of bearing witness (my words) to what others are going through. Here are some of the lessons she’s taught me about the power of listening:

31. You can never truly help anyone if you can’t be there to listen. And most times, that’s all they need.

She would often say to me that: “all people really need for you to do is listen. Be there to listen. That’s quite a help, you know, for someone in trouble.”

32. By telling you the problem they can see the answer for themselves. 

33. So many people think: ‘I don’t want to know.’ You might secretly think that but you’re helping by being there and just listening.

34. I think bad things, I just don’t say them. If people only knew what I was thinking.

35. Just let them say their piece, and then you can ignore it. 

36. If you haven’t got anything decent to say, shut up and just listen.

37. You sell more by listening to people's problems.

So those last few are probably a little more self-serving than the magnanimous ‘be there to listen’, but Nan is big on the fact that — by listening — you are doing people a great service. We often talk about when she first came to Australia and she got a job as an ‘Avon Lady’ . She mainly did it to meet people, but she soon found that the secret to being a good salesperson (or just a good human) is to be a good listener. 

Listen to their problems. Listen to their truths. It doesn’t mean you have to agree with them, or that you have to take them on as your own. But listening is one of the greatest gifts you can give another person. With wisdom like that, it’s no wonder she became an award-winning Avon Lady.

On letting go

There is a saying that always reminds me of Nan: ‘she who travels lightest, travels furthest.’ And as I sit here, reflecting on her 100 years — 100 years mind you where she has seen the invention of everything from penicillin to sliced bread as my cousin Zoë wrote in her piece for The Canberra Times — it is her refusal to be weighed down by baggage, emotional or otherwise, that I have always admired. And it’s not because she puts her head in the sand and ignores what’s going on around her — she just chooses to conserve her energy for the things she can control, and lets go of those she can’t. A few words on the art of letting go:

38. There's no point in worrying.

39. It’s a waste of life, being negative.

40. I can’t think of a thing that being damn miserable proved. What’s the good of being miserable?

41. Do what you can, there’s nothing else you can do — even if it doesn’t solve all the problems.

42. Where you’re going wrong is: you’re taking on too much of other people’s problems.

43. You can’t solve everybody’s problems, or else what’ll they do?

44. If you’re having a bad day, it doesn’t last forever. 

45. If you haven’t had a bad day, how will you know when you’re having a good day?

This one she says this to me a lot. And I always like to think of the ‘bad days’ as a little reminder that, because of them, I know what the ‘good days’ look and feel like. 

46. Things will always be better tomorrow, and if they’re not, they’ll be better the next day.

47. Leave some tears for tomorrow, don’t cry them all today.

I will never forget her telling me this when I was little. The idea that we only have a finite amount of tears, and that we need to be strategic with them — I love it, despite how scientifically inaccurate it may or may not be. 

48. You can’t outrun your problems.

Another moment I will never forget. I was going through a particularly difficult time in my late 20s, and my anxiety was off the flip charts. I decided maybe a change of scenery would help, so I took off down the beach. I still felt terrible, so I rang Nan. 

I told her that I was having a hard time and that I’d come down to the beach to try to make myself feel better, and as if finishing my sentence, she said: ‘and let me guess, your problems followed you.’ How did she know? She was right. She then followed it up with this gem, ‘you can’t outrun your problems.’ Instead, it’s best just to deal with them and move on as best you can.

49. Put your favourite thing on the telly and have a sherry. And when you’ve had that one, have another! 

Sure, if I followed this one to the extreme, I’d have ended up with square eyes and a drinking problem. But she meant you can give yourself permission to do anything that makes you feel better, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else and is done in moderation, remember?

50. If you feel it’s wrong, accept the fact that you’re feeling like that and think: can I do anything about it?

Acceptance is key. Judgment prolongs the suffering. 

51. Never say ‘why me?’ Always say ‘why not me?’

A good reminder not to feel sorry for yourself, at least for too long.

52. You can keep chipping away for your pound of flesh, but what will you do when you get it? And what will it cost them to give it to you? How will that sit with you?

This wasn’t said to me directly, but it was quoted to me often whenever I felt wronged or like holding a grudge. The thought that, at the end of your crusade, you would be left holding a pound of flesh that you’ve scarred someone to get (even if they’ve hurt you), was always enough to help me let go. Almost like the quote attributed to Nelson Mandela, and sometimes Pema Chödrön, that ‘holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.’

53. Take your time to wallow, but life goes on, like it or lump it. So pull your socks up and get on with it!

Heard it here first. So, what’re you waiting for?

On taking a balanced view

Nan is a world-class fence sitter, “I’m a Libra, you know”. But it’s not because she doesn’t have an opinion (she has plenty), it’s because she likes to take in both sides and see things from different points of view. Here are some of her favourite adages on taking a ‘Libran’ view of life.

54. Things are never black and white, there are always shades of sepia.

55. Be an optimist, and if you can’t be that — at least be balanced.

56. Look at the whole picture, that’s what I always say. Stand back a bit and look at it.

57. Imagine you’re on the moon, looking down, at all the people scurrying about like ants, worrying about this, that and the other. Does any of it matter?

58. Always take both points of view into consideration. 

59. It could be worse. There’s people dying in (insert country here).

There is a particular country she often mentions, but I’ve left it out, lest I offend a whole host of communities. 

On ageing

It did strike a few of us on her 100th birthday that Nan wasn’t really the least bit interested in reaching this milestone. Although she maintains that the best age is 32 (all downhill for me from here), she really couldn’t give two hoots about age and never has. Here are a few of her musings on getting older:

60. Age is just a number. 

61. Some people are old when they’re barely 50, and that’s not old. It’s all in the mind, and according to how old you feel.

For the record, Nan low-key hates ‘old’ people. But it’s not an age thing, it’s a demeanour thing. If you’re crusty and crotchety and set in your ways, don’t bother trying to sit at her table. 

62. A small amount of time can be good, if it's valuable — more so than a long time if it’s neither hit nor bit. 

63. Variety is the spice of life. It keeps you young.

64. It’s not the cough that carries you off, it’s the coffin they carry you off in.

And while it’s not the best recording, you can hear her finishing my sentence here with a rousing rendition of ‘it’s not the cough that carries you off…’

The many FaceTimes of Nan (2020-2022)

On money

Money habits and stories can pass from generation to generation and, if left unexamined, can cost us in more ways than we realise. A few years ago, I had the chance to interview Mum and Nan for a ‘Mother’s Day’ feature for Ladies Talk Money. What I stumbled upon was a treasure trove of sage money wisdom and a few cracker stories on why it’s important to always live within your means. 

65. Debt leads to worry and worry doesn’t make for a happy life.

Nan shared: “we weren’t ‘well off’, but we always had the best of everything, until a few months later when there would be a knock at the door, and someone would repossess the furniture or whatever appliance it might be. My father spent money he never had. Because he was so hopeless with it, it was up to my mother to manage the money. 

“At home, I always took care of the finances because it was something I was used to after the Pay Corps. I paid the bills, I managed the accounts. I was never one for these families where men have all the money and give their wife some money for a bit of ‘housekeeping’, and to ‘keep’ them!” Right on, Nan.

66. Always live within your means. 

67. Don’t spend more than you can afford to lose.

And this is from a woman who loves the Pokies. Nan would set an amount each time that she felt she could afford to lose, usually $10, maybe $20. And she would happily play the pokes, drink her complimentary cup of tea, until they both ran out and she’d pop on home. She would often follow this by saying…

68. It might not be as much fun, but you have to make sure you’re not spending money you don’t have!

69. Always pay what you owe.

I have memories as a child of seeing Nan writing in a notebook which bills were due and what they were for, and then putting the cash she earned as an Avon Lady in between each page. It was so that she knew she had what she needed, and so that she didn’t owe anyone anything. She’s never had a credit card and has always been very conscientious with money. Always generous, but never overindulgent.

70. Do the best you can with what you've got.

71. You will always have enough. 

She tells a story of a ‘gypsy’ or Roma woman coming to the door when she was a kid in Birmingham, grabbing her hand and then looking up at her and telling her that she ‘will always have enough’. It gave her confidence that she would never be without, and that she would always find a way. And she has.

72. The thing about money is that there never seems to be enough of it, people always want it and they are prepared to kill for it! 

73. It’s only money. 

To be fair, she thinks she’s quoting my Dad when she says this, but she says it so often that I now associate it with her. A good reminder that we imbue money with so many stories, ideas and measures of our ‘worth’, but at the end of the day — it’s only money.

74. Most of the important things in life are not ‘things’ at all, you just need ‘enough’ to enjoy your life. The good thing is that you decide what ‘enough’ is.

Read that one again. It’s good.

On cake, wrinkles and the importance of washing your sausages

We’re on the home stretch, so let’s hit it with a little rapid fire wisdom on everything from wrinkles to washing your sausages (you’ll see).

75. Always take the nearest cake on the plate, never reach over, it’s not polite.

76. You can eat and drink as much as you want on your birthday, because what’s the point of a party if you can’t be sick (pirate voice optional).

77. You can’t have a ‘bit’ of a drink, you can only have a ‘drop’. 

78. Holding a grudge is pointless, it just puts lines on your face. 

79. Always brush the back of your hair. (She thinks that people always forget to do it because they can’t see it.)

80. Always put your lipstick on, it will make you feel better.

I will never forget a fundraising campaign I helped run in 2015 for The Global Women’s Project following the devastating earthquakes in Nepal. Nepal was one of those countries that always fascinated Nan, but that she never made it to, so I went in her honour in 2014 and it nearly cost me my life (a story for another time). 

A year later when the earthquakes hit Kathmandu and surrounding regions, I was telling her about it and what we were fundraising for. She was most insistent that someone ‘make sure the women have lipstick’. While I can’t say it was top of the priority list, she said that, during the war, lipstick was one of the most valuable commodities. That women shared and eked out every last ounce of pigment because it made them feel ‘normal’ and like ‘everything was going to be alright’. I never forgot it. And to this day, I put on lipstick whenever I feel like I need a little more courage to ‘face the day,’ quite literally. 

81. Never buy tables with square edges. 

82. Never give a bag or purse without a dollar coin in it. It’s bad luck.

83. Don’t put new shoes on the table (also bad luck).

84. Never put your umbrella up inside (again, bad luck). 

85. Never have dead flowers in the house (you guessed it, more bad luck).

86. Never wear pearls (bad luck, but this one seemed to be specific to our family).

87. Never clasp your hands around crossed knees, it invites bad luck into the family (so much bad luck).

88. Don’t eat too much pork, it gives you indigestion (bad luck, but for your digestive system).

89. Always have a drink handy if you’re eating something with nuts in it.

90. [When you put perfume on your wrists], don’t bang them together, you’ll bruise it.

91. [When you’re cooking with lemons], always rub some on your elbows — it gets rid of the dirt.

92. [When you’re gardening], always plant one for the birds, one for the snails and one for you.

93. [When you play golf], just go up and hit the bloody thing. Don’t spend too long thinking about it.

94.The best books have a bit of crime with a dash of romance.

95. Use Nivea face cream every night, and you won’t need to worry about Vortex (she meant Botox, but same difference).

96. Colour attracts the eyes, it gives people something interesting to look at. 

She always has plenty of great advice about how I can make my market stalls better. This from a woman who has never owned anything black, and never worn denim (except for one ill-fated shopping trip). Can you imagine? Nothing black and nothing denim. 

97. It’s up to the girls to show the boys how it’s done. 

98. Always wash your sausages. You don’t know where the butcher’s hands have been.

99. Men, you could really do without them.

And lastly, on the secret to longevity

On her birthday, surrounded by her family, she was asked to reflect on the fact that ‘times are a lot different now, aren't they?’ “Certainly,” she said, “but you still have to breathe in and out. So that's all the same.” Of course, her secret to longevity is:

100. Breathing in and breathing out.

Just keep breathing. Pretty simple really, when you think about it.

There you have it — 100 things my Nan has taught me in 100 glorious years! I feel so lucky to call this woman my Nan, and even luckier that I have been able to spend so much time with her that I now know what she would say to me in any given situation. 

Have you met Nan or is there something I have I said to you, courtesy of Nan? I would love to hear!

EDIT: My beautiful Nan passed away peacefully in April 2023, at the ripe old age of 100, surrounded by family and caring staff. Her words guide me as much now as they ever did, and I will carry them with me always.