Bravery
is born
on the tender tears
of loss and disappointment.
Keep stepping.
You are so loved.
Tag: Care
Categories
Bright New Day
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.
Categories
A Little Story
A little story. A lovely one.
While standing in line at the shop, today, holding a baby in one arm and a pram in the other, the lady in front of me turned.
‘Please go ahead of us. I see you have two little ones and a baby. Please go ahead.’
I could have kissed her beauty.
I could have held her love in the air and said out loud for all to hear, ‘this is the kindness I choose.’
Instead, I said thank you.
Once. And once again.
True sunshine.
The end.
Categories
The Absolute Truth
I know the words I’ve spoken are true;
they have been wider and further than the ordinary kind.
Those words of the heart that stretch across souls, here they are: truth sending forth her deepest moan.
The absolute truth is unmistakable.
I know
I know
the absolute truth.
Categories
Kindness
Kindness is everywhere if we look hard enough.
And you’ll know how it feels, because you’ll know how it looks.
And if you know how it looks…
you’ll know your most important identity.
You’ll know how to be beautiful you.
Kindness is beautiful.
See it, feel it, know it kind of beautiful.
Or…not know it.
Kindness is kindness, either way.
Kindness isn’t something we need to think to life.
It is not a plan, it is not an order.
It’s a heart thing.
Our job is just to listen.
And breathe.
So, don’t try to be kindness.
Just move over.
To the left of the Sun, to the right of the moon.
And I promise you,
I promise.
Kindness will be there soon.
Categories
Remembered
The words were simple.
A question.
A question of heart and soul.
‘If you could be remembered for one thing,
what would that be?’
What would that be?
And I knew I wouldn’t be remembered for the jobs I’d done or the titles I’d held.
I knew I wouldn’t be remembered for the degrees I’d received or the knowledge I’d gathered.
I would be remembered because I loved.
I would be remembered because I tried
(I always tried)
to be kind.
And to love in spite of it all.
Categories
Sparking Joy
I folded the tee shirt and watched my hands.
They were beautiful as they moved, delicate in the way they twisted and rolled within the fabric. I’d never noticed them do that before. And just like that I’d found a way to enjoy a chore.
As I continued to fold, I paid attention to the creases and the folds. How sweet it was to fold the shirt in a perfect square. To run my hands over the smooth surface of the garment. Another new way to enjoy a chore.
I now have perfectly folded clothes, packed away in perfectly tidy draws and it makes me feel oddly at peace.I have opened the draws several times today, just so I can see all the loveliness again. Does that make me a little mad?
I found a way to spark joy, as Marie Kondo would say, and it reminded me to ‘spark joy’ in more aspects of my life than just the laundry.
Like here, for example. On this blog. In this post.
I might wish you a beautiful weekend. And you might actually have one.
That would spark joy.
That sure would spark an awful lot of joy.
I was in tears this morning, bouncing on my fit ball in front of the TV at my new favourite time of day (4AM).
I was watching the world news.
Small children were being handed over a fence to soldiers at the airport in Kabul, thankfully with no idea there is a better life for them out there somewhere.
And then there was me.
So small in the world, thinking of my own beautiful children tucked neatly, safely, away in their cosy beds.
I felt helpless.
I wanted to take all those beautiful people in Afghanistan under my wing and hold them there for a while.
I couldn’t.
I have no control over the mental state of the terrorists of the world, or the mental state of their fathers before them. Fathers who were taught by their fathers that love looked like fear. Fathers who passed this very fear onto their sons, and so on.
I have no control over the pain of these poor darling humans in Afghanistan, just trying to live.
But I have this blog.
I have my words and I have my heart.
And maybe I can’t make a difference for those poor people, but if you are reading this, and feeling in need of some love…I can make a difference to you.
So here I say this:
Thank you for being alive.
For being unique and wonderful you.
For being human enough to have bad days.
And for the strength I know you’ll find tomorrow.
I hope today is beautiful for you and I hope you remember the sun isn’t far away if it’s not.
Because even when the darkness of the world takes over, there is always something beautiful to find among the rubble.
This is my reminder to myself.
And this is my love letter to you.
So much love and strength to you all, my beautiful bloggy friends.
Thank you for being such a big part of my sun for so many of my days.
And so, life goes on.
xx Brooke
Categories
Human Like You
Do not ask me to hate
the ‘broken’ ones.
I am a broken one
because I am human.
You are too. You are too.
Do not ask me
to turn my soul inside out
so I might fit into your mould
of unrelenting judgement.
I am my own self, and I will love them,
even if you will not.
Always,
I will love.
Do not tell them they are broken
compared to you.
They are broken differently to you.
They are human, like you.
They are human.
Like you.
If she could hold the world with all her heart.
If she could soften the growls of the wildest of them,
she would.
Oh, she would.
Oh, she would.
brooke-cutler.com 