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Life

What In The World?

Well. Isn’t the world in an interesting state. That’s more of a statement, rather than a question, really, isn’t it: hence the absence of a question mark.

I’ve been wondering if perhaps humanity, as a collective, might be going through the same sort of life stage as me. Sifting through all the nonsense, trying to figure out which pieces to keep, and which pieces to shiny up and multiply. Trying to figure it all out, really, and will we? Can life be figured out? What actually is a state of figured out? I don’t think any of us knows, which is probably why we’re all in a bit of a collective pickle stew, at the moment.

It interests me to no end, this state we find ourselves in: us versus them, such massive divides, each heart believing their own is the ultimate truth. It’s fascinating because it has me asking questions I really don’t think can be answered in a black and white sort of way. Where once I would have declared a certain type of opinion ‘wrong’, a certain type of person ‘wrong’, I’m finding it impossible to do so, these days.

How can one side say the other is wrong entirely when there is a fifty- fifty split in opinion: half believing one thing, the other half believing another? It makes me wonder if people might open up to the grand possibility that, perhaps, no one is right.

Perhaps we all just are.

Sometimes pleasant experiences arise from us simply being as we are.

And sometimes complete and utter chaos reigns, and quite frankly, disturbs a great deal of the beautiful many of us so cherish about life here on earth. Perhaps it’s a little like a bush fire. In order to see those beautiful new sprouts of green peeping through the forest floor, first the old trees must burn.

Who on earth knows what’s going on.

Who on earth (and all the planets) knows.

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Life

Sitting Up Here

Maybe I’m sitting in a tree, somewhere, looking down at it all. I’m sure my feet are dangling, and I’m probably whistling in harmony with the wind through the branches.

What do I see when I look down at my life? I see myself sitting quietly at a little white desk, typing away, visualising a peaceful version of myself up there.

Peaceful me would look down at the small children running circles around the house, see me wincing at the too many seconds of loud for comfort and she’d send a little caring my way. An invisible hug, maybe. Whatever I might need to soothe me.

She’d also look down and see me laughing to the point of holding my belly. The six-year-old. The most HILARIOUS trick anyone has ever played on me. He’s managed to pull it off, and I highly doubt he’ll be able to top such brilliance in both wit and execution again, but I’ll remain on guard, just in case. Peaceful me would know that’s the first time I’ve laughed like that in a long, long time.Then she’d send a great big smile my way.

Peaceful me would see the good and bad of it and whisper to me: it’s all good.

It’s all good.

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Categories
Life

Loveliness

Ah, the loveliness.

There it is again.

As smooth as the drifting river,

as quiet as the song of a mother

to the sky.

Lovely loveliness.

The sweetest of all the dreams.

Categories
Life

Holidays and Summer Wind

Australian summer and there I was, sipping a glass of wine beneath the gumtrees, wrapped in my best winter scarf and topped with a little woolen hat. The wind: shocking.

It’s not unusual for the country town we’re holidaying in to reach these frosty temperatures at night. I’m certain we’ll look back in years to come with fond memories of swaying gums and whirls around the caravan park on bikes, but I also think we’ll marvel at Mother Nature and her wacky sense of humour. During the day, it is not unusual for the temperature to reach forty degrees celsius and beyond, some years, and yet the blankets come out when the sun falls. It’s quite funny, really.

It reminds me of Melbourne (my hometown) and her ability to display every single aspect of all four seasons in one day. The rest of Australia laughs at our expense, but the truth is: Melbournians gladly identify with this peculiar trick of the weather. We happily declare it one of our most impressive party tricks.

I’m breezy and happy, today. After a solo journey back to Melbourne, earlier, to celebrate my beautiful Grandma’s 90th birthday (and a nice big heart-opening drive back, listening to music) I’m so grateful for all the experiences that have brought me here. To this place in my life, I mean. Not just to this dodgy little caravan park in the middle of nowhere.

I am reminded of the worth of life experience each time I feel the beautiful glow of wholeness beneath my skin. Each time I feel the spirit rise within me; the times I’m ready, and quite able, to speak the truths my heart knows to be absolute. I am not perfect. Life is not perfect, and never will be. But I am here, and I am grateful for these exhausting family days (and even you lot fall upon the grateful-o-metre of me…aww, sigh. Like, really, you guys. x) so a girl couldn’t ask for much more to help drift me through my days.

Right. Off to drink my tea and snuggle up with, what is turning out to be, one lovely heart-filling book.

So much love, sweet bloggy friends.

Eat the cake. xx

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Categories
Life

Christmas Love Hearts

Dearest Bloggy friends,

Merry day, to you all. Just taking a moment to send you all the love hearts (because I can’t seem to stop myself- and because love hearts are the best).

To those of you struggling to make it through the joy of the season: it’s okay to cry. Please do. How beautiful it will feel to release.

To those of you who have found joy and more: I’m so pleased for you. Life is for living, and joy is one of the most beautiful seasons.

To the parents: rest. It really will be okay.

And to the rest of you: yes. I do think you should have that extra slice of cake.

Lots and lots of love, Brooke. xxx

Categories
Life

This Is It

Death, I suppose, does that to us. It’s one of those accidental growth inducing things that none of us actually want, but do end up getting from time to time. Lessons in perspective. Lessons in gratitude, these are just some of the positives that can come from death knocking on our doors. But today, death has broken me. And my empath metre is still reeling.

I’ve just read an article written by a Mum recounting her five-year-old sons final days. Cancer. To say I struggled to hold myself together wouldn’t be accurate. To say I fell to pieces is absolutely correct. What a devastating, devastating thing: to lose a child, and yet people do experience this sort of loss in life, and far too often for my liking.

I felt I owed it to that precious little man to reiterate the message his beautiful, heartbroken (positively grace-filled) Mum put out into the world, on behalf of her little boy. To live and love, is surely the greatest gift. To live now, to be grateful for this. What’s here. What’s out the window and how beautiful it is. To see that it’s pointless fussing over the little things, when there are even more little things to honour and cherish in this mixed bag of a life we live.

This Mum. She was given a beautiful gift, in the end, when her son’s final words were: ‘I am happy Mum.’ I am happy, Mum. It makes you think how dumb we are worrying about the extra weight we might put on over the holiday period, doesn’t it? It makes you think that, in the end, all we’re really here for is to realise nothing matters but the people we love, and love itself.

Anyhow, I should stop this because it’s going to take me down, again, but I think I’ve said it all, anyway. Most of you already know the way I view life. It is short and beautiful, and we have one chance.

One sweet, sweet, chance.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

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Categories
Life

An Open Heart

You might think the glow of an open heart to be impossible outside the honeymoon phase of romantic love, but I assure you: it’s quite possible. And it is very, very lovely, my goodness.

When I relax into the warmth in my chest, I feel the most beautiful sense of softness and love radiate through me. Especially when I’m listening to music. It’s as though a night light has been switched on in the dark of me, and there I am, ready to hold it out to the world in search of someone to share its glow with.

A physical feeling of heat and light, is the best way I can describe my version of an open heart, and there are not many natural feelings like it at all (apart from the primal urges of childbirth, perhaps, which…actually, I should write a post on that, sometime. Childbirth is often painted for its painful side, but overlooked for the absolute primal miracle it is.)

I’m so terribly unfinished in terms of my emotional healing from the past, but there are some beautiful things going on in my life in the now that I’m grateful for. For the first time in my life I’m happily rising early to do yoga. Every morning. I’ve done it for a week, and I know I won’t stop because I’ve decided it, firmly. It feels far too beautiful to wake my body up in such an earthy way, and it’s linked with the very best part—I’m no longer rushing around and frantic when it comes time to whistle the kids out the door. In itself, that is a small step in the right direction.

It definitely helps that I’ve found the most beautiful, gentle yoga teacher on YouTube. Every time he whispers ‘relax, it’s alright, it’s all good’, it’s like it activates something within my core that knows he is one hundred percent right. That, no matter what, it’s alright, it’s all good.

Anyhow, I just wanted to check in with my real voice and let you all know I’m still here and that, no, I’ve not got a poetry writing robot posting here on my behalf. Although, truly: I’ll be if I know where some of my writing comes from. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: some of the words I write really do not feel like my doing, at all. It’s all very magical and lovely and strange.

I’m happy with magical and lovely and strange, if you are. xx

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Categories
Life

Some Days I Fall

Some days I fall. I’m not a good mum. I’m not a good human. I’m not a good me, on those days I fall.

It’s not a consolation to know that I do not fall alone. That humanity itself is in constant fluctuation, that some days we rise and some days we fall. I’ve fallen. Me. The writer of these words, the feeler of these aches. On those days I wish for more, I also wish for peace. The two do not go hand in hand.

But it’s not as easy as finding peace and being happy with that. Without this beautiful depth—without this wild and wistful wind that moves me—there would be no passion to whoosh me along the creative river of life, the river I know and love so well.

Is it about lowering the expectations I have of myself? Or is it about lowering my expectations of life? What, I wonder, would help me to feel at peace in a world that so often clips my wings.

I was given wings to fly.

I long to use them.

Is this me, using them? Right in this moment, is this the way I was meant to fly? To write about love and loss and sorrow and sacrifice? About life at its best and life at its worst and how, at some level, it’s all the same thing, anyway?

What is it all for?

And when will I stop asking: what is it all for?

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Categories
Life

The Deep Breath

The eucalypts are alive, here. For whatever reason, this part of the world seems to be windy more often than not, and I’m so very pleased about that. Life seems to flow more with the wind.

I wonder, sometimes, if you all wonder where I disappear to when I’m gone for a few days without any hint as to where I might be. In this case, I’ve escaped the hustle and bustle of the city, with my family, and we are enjoying the most beautiful post-lockdown deep breath.

This morning, as I meditated by the pool, overlooking the giant swaying gums ( sigh ) I felt at ease. The wind on my skin was refreshing and, rather than distracting me, seemed to bring me into a deeper state of peace. The birds and their jarring squawks seemed at odds with the peace I sought, and yet it all became me. Each squawk felt no different to other thoughts or feelings that float in the air around me, daily; and that, to me, seemed so profoundly beautiful. To feel the world as a part of me. It was all the lovely things.

Now. If you’ll kindly excuse me. I have some more lovely deep breaths to catch.

Lots and lots of love.

Brooke. xx

Ps. My sister is here. She is the sun.

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Categories
Life

Shining

It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Awake at 3:30 am, and really not at all tired, actually.

So I thought I’d pay you all a visit and just waffle for a while.

I’m not sure why I’m awake. I’ve had a very emotional day, perhaps that’s it; I’ve not been the best with sticking to a proper meditation routine, over the past few weeks of crazy busy. For me, a break in meditation usually means that when I do happen to find a nice rhythm, again, the heavier stuff I’ve been carrying tends to clear in waterfalls of tears. It’s lovely, really. I’m more than happy to cry out my pains, especially when I see all the good it’s done me so far.

I’ve lived enough in my life to have found many pieces of the human pie, which continue to blow my world apart, beautifully. On the surface, many of these ‘growth’ opportunities have looked like pain, and yes, in the day to day living part they’ve been painful to go through. But they have shown me things I need to heal, and they’ve also shown me how far I’ve come since I was that soft, quirky, shy little girl who would back out a cafe door at the moment of entry, if the owner looked even the tiniest bit like a meanie. And that feels really, really lovely to me.

To have gone from being someone who has buried most of the difficult things I’ve faced in life, to now be looking at them and daring to move through them bravely: I’m very proud, I have to say. I’ve still got no idea half the time, and I’m still so brokenly human, but life is for living and that’s what I’m doing.

Not only that, but I now have the promise of a beautiful soft internal world to return to when the waves of human nonsense have passed on through. I know the soft girl’s energy very well, now, so when I fully embody the beautiful warm breeze of her, I know I’m home, and I’m grateful. What a gift. I’ll never take such feminine softness for granted.

It’s such a dense and horrible world at times, which still has the ability to topple me (like the bullying post I wrote the other day) but I am getting there, I think.

I should probably try to sleep, I suppose. 🙂

So much love, bloggy friends. You know you all mean the world to me. I hope you’ve all been sailing through your own human waves and coming out shining. If not, that’s perfectly okay. You will shine again. I’m quite sure of that. xx

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