Today my heart is quiet.
And it knows deeply
that it has lived.
Today my heart is quiet.
And it knows deeply
that it has lived.
Shine, my sweet bloggy family.
Always be you.
In all your flawed magnificence.
This is the Apple Tree of Everything.
You may pick only one apple, today.
Hold it in your hand.
Look at it.
Really, look at this apple you have picked.
To say it is red is hardly enough.
There are black porous dots, scattered and bunched.
A deep red jacket of smooth and lumps— there is even a bruise.
This is your apple of the day.
Yours because you have picked it.
It is not perfect, but none of the apples on the tree are perfect.
For what is perfect when different is the only sameness the tree can offer.
This apple of yours is far from the ordinary you see.
And it is yours.
How completely beautiful.
Yes, you could judge them.
But if I were you,
I would breathe first.
Would you like to be judged
just the way that you are
because you are that way?
To judge another
is to place shame
in your own hands.
This I have learned,
and continue to learn,
the hard way.
One day, I will
And so will those
I continue to judge.
Can we become the peace
that glistens on the ledge of our differences?
Or will it be war swept under the carpet
for yet another age of humanity?
I see your needs. Do you see mine?
Can we surrender to the chaos
of boundless perspective?
Can we be soft,
I’m not the victim of circumstance. Of uncontrollable life. Of this eternal river that constantly flows and changes, sometimes lifting me right out of the water, sometimes flowing me steadily along. That’s what I try to tell myself, anyway. That I don’t believe I am a victim.
I try to tell myself that I am better than to play the role of victim in this life, but the truth is…I do sometimes fall into the belief that I am the innocent victim of others’ selfish storylines. This, of course, coming from the perspective of my own selfish storyline. You see the insanity of this, don’t you? It’s one of those funny things. A blind spot.
Many people can’t see past this particular blind spot in their day to day interactions with the world. I understand that. Even those who do have awareness of the me zone are still often hijacked by the small frightened human inside. I’m sure even the most Zen of buddhas has a cranky pants child in there somewhere, still a little bit shitty that Mum didn’t give them the lollypop they truly deserved. (They really did deserve that lollypop, you guys. We all deserved that lollypop. (*Wink face emoji*)
As humans, we can’t escape the glaringly obvious, can we? We are all biologically wired to be animals (and small children) on some level. I find this part of life so hard to make peace with, because there is a higher part of me who laughs at the little girl I’ll always be deep down. That little girl finds it SO liberating to be ever so passionately cranky at those who (she perceives) have hurt her. To really let out a great big you’ve done this to me! is one of the most freeing experiences there is. It also has the potential to wound others, and I will never subscribe to team an eye for an eye. Not ever.
The truth is, there can’t be an actual right way to be. We’re all programmed differently, and many of these differences are passed down to us from DNA born in a body, place, and time long ago. What if people are me-centric because they need to be in order to learn greater life lessons? What if there is a greater reason for all the chaos and nonsense we tend to judge as bad? I tend to think there is.
The other day, my inner lollypop girl wrote a poem, so frustrated by the victim mentality that seems to get in the way of life really shining for many of us. I’ve deleted it. It’s not my truth. My actual truth is love and compassion, it always has been, from very early on in my life, at least. And though my early life conditioning created many a limiting belief — that I’m slowly, but steadily freeing myself from—unconditional love is one belief I know I want to keep.
I do believe that I, and others, fall prey to the victim mentality from time to time as a result of being…oh, you know, human (omg, life, right?) But I’d like to continue to look at all aspects of myself and others from a place of compassion if I can help it.
With all that said, it’s liberating (and psychologically necessary, I feel) to release the roar that truly does live within, however irrational or me-centric its origins were. Creativity is such a beautiful way to do this (my goodness. Those crack the mega shits poems feel so good as they tumble out of my body.)
They’re just not the message I want to share with the world.
This is the message I want to share.
(Ps. Lollypop, anyone? 😛 )
there are certain truths
that whistle louder
through the weeping willows
of lake humanity.
bounces and drifts
over the still waters,
sweet and true.
gathers in clumps of stone
and shatters the peaceful flow,
once clear and blue.
among the willows
is true in all forms.
among the willows
in all forms.
And then she said goodbye
Each time, as if she’d forgotten the last.
The broken heart of precious memories:
a sting she can no longer deny.
She loved his heart and soul, despite it all.
Unconditionally, she has always loved
her heart will break
until it no longer
for what he does not choose.
Her deep blue sea.
A sea too deep for some to bear.
despite the sweetly ringing bell
of wholeness and grace within,
shocks her, still.
A truth to be seen,
to be held,
to be healed.
It’s important to me at this time (and, in fact, forever and always) to shine a hope for peace and equality for all.
We are one.
And though this song sings an Australian story, I sing it to the world. Because I am me, I am not on any one side; to me there are no two sides.
Today, we speak for our beautiful black lives: who matter now, and always have mattered. Tomorrow, perhaps we might speak for each and every life touched by the closed eyes (and heart) of intolerance.
For the less obvious among society who have been oppressed and eye rolled entire lifetimes long, often suffering in silence:
* the sensitives and empaths of the world.
* the quirky/odd ones.
* the wildlings.
* the nerds.
Mainstream society is very good at identifying the obvious marginalised groups and fighting for their inclusion and acceptance.
It’s time, though, to dig deeper by asking:
Who am I intolerant of?
Are they not human, also? Like me?
We are all worthy of being seen through neutral eyes, and we are all worthy of forgiveness and being held through our darkest days.
Embracing our individuality, and separating from the rigid judgements and expectations of mainstream culture, ironically, seems to be the way to remember we are one.
Being kind to ourselves, and our fellow humans as we work through our kinks, might also be a lovely thing.
So much love, my beautiful bloggy friends.
I’ll stop with my little bursts of unsolicited opinion, now, because I trust that everything in life happens for a reason. I trust that everyone finds the exact experiences they need in order to shine exactly the way they were always meant to.
Why, then, did I post this particular contradictory blog post?
Only the wind knows that, I suppose.
xx Your girl always, Brooke. xx
The answer to the question of peace lies within each of us.
We are all human.
We all have mothers, and sisters, and best friends, and bad hair days.
No matter who we are, no matter what we do.
Peace starts with unconditionally loving ourselves. It starts with seeing the ways in which we are a little bit shit or unique and realising…we love ourselves anyway.
This will allow us to see each other clearly.
This will allow us to see that we are just as flawed or unique as the neighbour we judge, and that is okay because we are human. This will empower us to choose growth, change, peace: we cannot choose these things unless we acknowledge the need for them in the first place.
It starts with seeing the oppressed, and seeing the oppressor and vowing to walk with them both until we have all walked into our sameness.
We can no longer hide from our shadows.
We have seen this day a thousand times before, and each time we’ve been too frightened to truly see, and move somewhere else.
We have fought wars, we have swept knowledge under the carpet… but we’ve collectively grown enough now and we know: this time is different.
We know this is the beginning of peace because it has to be.
And so we make the choice: seek acceptance of the self, and of the all.
Or keep hiding from what we know to be true.
The choice is ours.
I choose unconditional love.