How precious.
A moment of softness.
A tender understanding
of life
and her aching sorrows.
Let me tell you,
this sorrow is painted in rainbows
for the good you bring.
Let me tell you
your shine
is all the light you need
to dull the aching moments
of goodbye.
May they find the hours
of my love for them
strewn upon these coloured pages.
May their names shine with my love,
and may their eyes light
with the truth of all they are.
May these hours,
and these pages dear,
show my children that love is pure
beyond thinking.
Love is…
love
is.
Life is a story I tell myself.
And I daren’t tell it wrong
for fear of the unhappy ending.
But what is unhappy?
And what is an ending
if a beginning is found
on the other side
of each new end?
He bought it in 1946 for six pounds, which apparently was quite the sum back in the day. He’s 92 and wonderful, my darling neighbour, Joe, I’ll call him. The gigantic relic of a dictionary was his. Now it belongs to me.
Joe and I lounged in his well kept living room and sipped champagne to celebrate my family’s one year anniversary of owning our home. He had remembered, not us. We were flawed with gratitude and awe.
As we sat, he told me stories of his life; the pains, the joys, stories of beautiful friends and loved ones here and gone. I could have sat there all afternoon. Instead I settled for an hour and a champagne, and two home-made yoyo biscuits (made by a dear friend of his, and absolutely delicious, might I add.)
The dictionary came up in conversation and I mentioned how I’d planned to buy a special one myself, some day. Brooke, the writer; of course she’d need to invest in something so truly lovely, full of all that writerly goodness. And just like that, the dictionary, the precious illustrated dictionary, had become apart of our family.
I will cherish it for as long as I live. Not because it’s the dictionary I’ve always wanted, but because it will remind me of a beautiful soul that has touched my life deeply.
As I sat with him I told him, ‘Joe. You have such a pure soul,’ and it’s true. I’ve never felt a person quite like him and I wish there were more people in the world who felt as beautiful, to me.
The purest of hearts. The ones that lift us to be our best. The ones we all hope we might be for others.
I plan to go for tea again with him soon, my darling friend, Joe.
I cannot think of how I might repay his kindness.
There is no need to be afraid of the
not good enough.
This weakness you perceive,
this pathetic softness you scold yourself for
compared to
she who declares herself strong.
Close your eyes.
Breathe and know this.
You are perfection
just the way you are.
For you must know this flimsy frailty
in order to recognise the goddess
who one day will rise within.
It must be.
For without this shadow
the towering goddess inside
would remain hidden to you.
Trust the journey.
Trust in the perfection
of messy life.
Bravery
is born
on the tender tears
of loss and disappointment.
Keep stepping.
You are so loved.
The wind was crisp
and the sun sang warm to my skin.
The rest of the world was too fast
to know bliss like that.
The truth is: the truth is too expensive;
a depth of emotion most are unwilling
to pay.
Humanity can’t see through true eyes.
Can’t see the fighting is a small child’s game.
Who are the adults?
Let me know when you meet them.
Wounded and scared;
don’t you know how deeply you once felt the world?
The carpet is there for a reason.
The broom is used by all until the carpet
spills the truth.
The truth, they say,
will set you free, and I am free
to tell you that.
But, then again,
the carpet is good, too.
‘Sun?’
‘Yes, Moon?’ said Sun as he fell into the evening sky.
‘I shine every night. I brighten the humans’ world. Why do they not love me?’
‘Moon?’
‘Yes, Sun?’
‘You have a chip in your tooth.’
‘Do I?! Oh, no! Maybe that’s why!’
‘Moon?’
‘Yes, Sun?’
‘It’s a tooth.’
‘I know. And I don’t want a broken one.’
‘But you have a broken one.’
‘Sun! You are not hearing what I am saying! The humans don’t love me and I don’t want a broken tooth.’ Moon stormed around the sky, looking for her lost boot.
‘Moon? I love you. And you have a broken tooth. Not but, and. Did you hear me? And you have a broken tooth.’
‘Sun. I have no idea what you’re on about,’ said Moon, putting her found boot on and keying in her crescent shine coordinates.
‘I know, Moon, I know. You’ll understand one day.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You will.’
And with that, Moon said goodbye and shone unconditionally for the humans below.
Let go.
For peace.
I send my heart
to those in pain.
Let me sit beside you in the dark.
Let me remind you:
darkness is the ship
to a bright new day.
brooke-cutler.com 