Categories
Life

Bullies and Paradox

Fragile would be an excellent word to describe me in the face of the western world’s bullying culture. I’ve been hearing the same internal whisper over and over for the past few weeks: fortify, Brooke, fortify, says the quiet voice, barely heard above the noise.

I’ve been away from facebook for a very long time, but over the past week or two I’ve gradually dipped a toe in to see how things are going. I’ve loved reconnecting with my lost people, I won’t lie. And things have been lovely and positive for the most part, which has been a nice surprise.

But. There was that one moment. The one that derailed me, the one that had me questioning: what do I do with the way I feel about this? What do I say to myself to help it feel a little better inside? Apparently the humans have come up with a term for the ache I came across. Cancel Culture, is it? Where a person is shamed for holding a view that is not generally agreed upon (and therefore, cast out of society, via pitch fork) is the general gist of it.

In this case, I came across a post which mentioned a man ( out of respect, I’ll not name him ) who has received quite a lot of back lash in the past due to his alternate views regarding health and wellness. The post was celebrating his downfall (I can’t remember the specifics) and the comment below the post was so vicious, it actually ached within me. It really had me wondering. Are we really still there? Slavery may have been abolished, but apparently we are still bullying the innocent (which is much the same thing, in my eyes.) Many a time in my life I’ve considered becoming a hermit. Tonight, I edged ever closer.

I would consider myself an extremely forgiving and compassionate person, but I have to say: I am struggling to find compassion for the bullies of the world. I try so desperately to see the higher perspective, to be there for everyone while we muddle our way through the chop, but it’s so hard. It hurts to say that, because I really do feel that every person is beautiful in their own way, even those I don’t necessarily resonate with.

I was bullied very badly early in high school. In fact, it was so bad that the whole class cheered when I was called out of the classroom on my last day at that particular school. My Mum thought I was going to kill myself. I was happy enough to snuggle up with the joys of my imagination until it all went away. Still, it’s clearly done some damage.

Perhaps this is why the current day bullies, trolls (whatever you might call them) feel so horrible to me. Perhaps this is why I find it very difficult to wait out the course of their abuse in the hopes that they might one day learn kindness and understanding via the consequences of their bullying ways.

The interesting thing is (and here’s to the absolutely mind boggling paradox of life): I am placing the same judgement on these bullying individuals as they have placed on that poor fellow who just kinda doesn’t believe what they believe. Life, hey. I’ll leave that old chestnut with you to mull over a while.

The nature of the universe is chaos. It is not black and white, and this is where us humans do seem to struggle. We seem to need the polarities and contrasts to help us to fully experience life. The differences in life create experience, and beauty, and deep, deep life.

I just wish deep, deep life was a little gentler, sometimes.

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Categories
Life

Giving Back

What did I actually do for others, apart from give them my love? What did I do to help lift their burdens, to help them maximise their true life potential by easing (or helping to expand) life for them in some small, practical way. There were openings and offerings on occasion, of course, but I never did figure out how practical kindness worked when it was outwards facing and flowing.

The practical part was where I tended to get stuck. I’d have a beautiful, heart-warming idea and then I would find some excuse not to follow through. Partly it was because I was (cough: am) a massive procrastinator. More often than not, though, my practical kindness was thwarted by selfishness.

During the time I was separated from my husband — during the very little money part, during the very little time part, during the depression part — I found myself needing to accept the help of others, really for the very first time in my adult life. And, finally, I learned the importance of being there for others.

I did my Pop’s garden, today—I’m ashamed to say, for the first time (usually I’d leave it to my aunties and uncles). But today, I bought the most beautiful statue I could find at the gardening shop, plonked her in the garden bed by the back door, and pruned until a lovely halo of flowers surrounded her soft-grey concrete. Here I was using my kindness and creativity to practically help my most cherished humans. And I knew it was right.

Usually I’d just sit there on family visits, and we’d have tea, and we’d chatter and laugh, and I’d go home feeling beautifully fulfilled and very much loved. Quite selfishly fulfilled, I would say, looking back, now. Today, though, I gave back. And it truly did feel like I had come home.

My Nan was the gardener of the family. She had the softest, kindest heart, with a great big burst of generosity and passion coursing through her soul, and she loved that garden just as much as she loved her family. Roses were her favourite. And now they are mine, probably because they were hers.

So I’m going to make it my mission (well, one of them) to put all my heart and soul into that garden. For my family. Because I love them so dearly, and because they’ve given and given and given to me, in more ways than I’d ever be able to recall.

It’s my turn, now, to give back.

So I will.

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Categories
Inspiration

I Believe

I believe you can do that thing

you think you can’t do.

I believe.

I do.

I believe in you.

Categories
Poetry

Sleep

Each moment is new and beautiful in my eyes.

This heart has been touched

by the wind of change

enough to know that everything begins

but nothing ends.

Not really.

Not really.

And so I sleep in the arms of the one I love,

knowing I am safe,

knowing I am home.

Knowing nothing has ended

or broken.

Knowing that everything goes on

and on

and on.

Categories
Poetry

The Rose

I wrote this poem for the beautiful father of my children, today.

I wrote it on a white sheet of paper, using a fine tip pink pen and I left it beside a jar of soft pink roses on the kitchen counter. Then I snuck out of his house, with a smile, wondering what he might think when he discovered it. ☺️

I’m sharing this moment with you all because I believe beautiful moments are a gift to be cherished. I hope you do, too. ☺️

I also believe it’s important to share beautiful moments in the hopes of inspiring more beautiful moments in the world. And heaven knows we need that right now.

So much love, my beautiful bloggy friends.

Give the love hearts, always.

No matter who, no matter what. xx ❤️

xx Brooke

The Rose

Life is like the sweetest rose.

Layer by layer,

it reveals its true beauty.

In its own time

it opens

and becomes

everything

it was always meant to be.

Categories
Life

Always

Where do you go

when you are locked away

inside yourself?

Don’t you know that you are lovely?

Don’t you know

your beautiful smile was made

to light up your day,

and mine?

Never forget,

sweet friend:

the sun rose for you, too.

Not just for the others.

Never forget:

you are perfectly

perfectly

perfect.

All ways.

Always.

Categories
Life

Unconditionally

Bloggy friends?

If ever there comes a time

where you think you have no one,

please remember

that is entirely untrue.

If you feel alone,

If you need more love

more connection

more safety

than you have?

I’m here.

You have me.

I just wanted to say that.

xx

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 31: Kindness

Most would consider it an embarrassment, I suppose, the darling life lesson that found me at the supermarket yesterday. But to me, it was a beautifully mysterious lesson, one I will never forget.

We’ve all had that moment, I’d imagine. The moment we see a person with a small handful of things lined up behind our massive trolley full, and the done thing is that we would usually let them sneak in before us. (No judgment if you don’t, we all have our reasons: shyness and social anxiety happen. And are absolutely worthy of understanding and empathy.)

Anyway, I’m waffling already, sorry.

Back to the supermarket line.

I had a full basket of things, not just a couple of items, and the lady in front of me had a trolley that was about three-quarters full, so according to my calculations…she really would have only taken a few extra minutes to check out than I. Still, she offered to have me pass, and would see it no other way.

I’m always so touched by genuine kindness, and this time was no exception. How could I return the kindness, and have her know just how much it meant to me? Could I pay for a small amount of her shopping as a nice surprise? No. I was paying by card. Could I buy her one of the mint packets sitting on the counter? Umm…no.

And that’s when I saw the bag. A beautiful country style shopping bag: I would buy that for her, and as I was leaving I would turn around and hand it to her, knowing we had both done our bit to brighten each other’s day.

The cashier announced the amount I owed, I opened my purse and…my card wasn’t there. My only way of paying for two bags worth of groceries and the special surprise bag…was-not-there. I was gutted. I walked away, without my bags, knowing that when I returned the kind lady would be gone, and I would have a random bag that I really didn’t need.

But as I drove home to pick up the very pesky card that had left itself in my jacket pocket, the universe flashed me a feeling here and there and suddenly I was face to face with the truth.

It was all meant to happen.

And it was meant to happen exactly as it happened in order for me to learn a lesson. What was the lesson? The lesson was kindness—my most fluent, and cherished language. And why did I have to forget my purse in order to remember that I value kindness above most things?

Because if I’d not forgotten my purse…I’d have given that bag to the lady.

And If I’d given it to the lady… I wouldn’t still have it, always to remind me how beautiful it feels to both give and receive kindness.

***

Well. 🙂 We made it my beautiful bloggy friends. 🙂 All the way through these darling days of May, and as always I’ve been so ridiculously grateful for your company. I really didn’t do an awful lot differently, did I, apart from add the word darling in here and there. Ha ha ha. Thank goodness I’m such a love hearty girl, in general, hey. 😛

Until we meet again, Brooke. xx

assortment of fresh vegetables with lemon in food net
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

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Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day Six. Darling Is The Fall

She wobbled along, the little darling on wheels.

Two wheels (which seemed to be the problem.)

Mum balanced her own bike between her legs, guiding her duckling as best she could, until at last:

there was flight.

girl wearing vr box driving bicycle during golden hour
Photo by Sebastian Voortman on Pexels.com

As I strolled along behind the two,

occasionally glancing into the shedding trees,

the Mum within me hoped.

Please let the little duckling balance.

Please let the little duckling fly.

black and brown duckling on concrete floor
Photo by Bryan Underwood on Pexels.com

After a while, the two disappeared and I forgot the darling struggle.

Forgot the invisible cord that attached my empathy to the shake, wobble, roll.

Once again, I was lost.

Within the bliss-filled world of me,

I was lost.

young satisfied woman in headphones with fresh red leaf listening to music with pleasure while lounging in autumn park
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Until I was no longer lost,

but right back where I began.

Face to face

with one

precious

fallen

duckling.

broken heart love sad
Photo by burak kostak on Pexels.com

Everything within me wished to reach for her.

To hold her for a while.

To look into her eyes, and have her understand

that without the fall…

the true beauty of flight

would never be known to her.

cheerful mother and daughter having fun on bed at home
Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Darling was the little duckling

that stole my heart on this darling day of May.

Darling was how hard she tried.

And darling was the invisible cord of life

that connected us.

photo of woman teaching her child on how to use bow and arrow
Photo by Rainer Eck on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Poetry

A Better Day

There’s a hurricane in your pain.

It whirls around my body as I feel you;

all the moments

that sliced you open

and exposed the parts of your soul

you’ve tried so hard to forget.

I see you,

and I hope that you

will find the clarity to

one day

see yourself beyond the

broken.

You’ve always been beautiful.

You’ve always

been on the road

to a better day.

human eye
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