Categories
Life

Proof of Glum

I’m hovering over the heater. If my pants were made of plastic, in fact, they’d have melted to my legs by now.

That’s beside the point, I suppose. The point is…actually, there is no point. I’m just feeling a little glum and I wanted the world to know that this sort of thing happens to people.

Sadness. Pain.

It happens, and here I am, gifting you all with the gloriously heavy mud bricks of proof. Proof of glum. (Thank goodness I made this a little blog of everything. Today, it’s my diary.)

I wonder if any of you remember the girl who started this blog. Perpetually happy. Not a cloud in the sky. She was a little soul starved, certainly, but she was sparkly, and happy happy happy. She could walk in nature and listen to music without bursting into flaming sobs of aching life.

My life is broken. And it’s also the greatest, most beautiful magical life I’ve ever known; a creative adventure that touches me to the very core. Can you see the utter confusion I’m dealing with here?

I’m angry. At everybody and nobody at all.

I’m sad, because I am.

I’ve just read a wonderful article about the creative brain, actually, and how creative folk do tend to go through bouts of depression and the like, just because of the way we’re wired. Because of the often self imposed isolation (umm, me.) Because of the heightened senses (umm, also me.)

I suppose it’s a seperate can of worms when you throw in a marriage seperation, two small children, a global health pandemic and a raging angry sea of humans. I feel all these things deeply. And where once I buried pain as soon as it struck, I now allow myself to feel it. (Who even does that. Blurgh.)

I don’t want anyone to worry about me. The clouds always clear. Usually by morning (so there’s the bright side girl, being annoying again.)

But life, hey. ☺️ Sometimes I just feel a little more human than I really want to, and I suppose the next part of my journey is learning how to be okay with that.

I’m certain I must be known around town as that girl who walks and cries. It’s the music. It quite literally becomes me, to the point where I feel like I’m a floating puff of emotional cloud. It’s not even my emotion. Its the emotion (the energy) of the song. People must think I’m barking mad as I float along, sometimes whimsical, sometimes in tears.

Anyway. Fascinating. Wonderous.

Achey.

I’ll get there. x

So much love, bloggy friends.

This ol’ softy, Brooke.

Categories
Poetry

Tonight

Tonight

I tear again.

The ache of a mother

remembering her ducklings, sweet.

It’s a long, long road to the deep end of a soul.

And some days ripple and crash

more than other days do.

The rain falls inside.

Tonight.

mother holding her baby
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

Categories
Fable

The Bear

‘You must not fuss,’

said the boy to the bear.

‘This pot may no longer overflow with honey.

But look.

At the pot.

At its rainbow shine,

at its faded inscription.

This pot has been cherished.

And because it has been cherished

it shines,

and it fades

all at the same time.

Who cares if the taste 

of its beautiful

is over.

A memory of life,

enough to feed the two of us,

still lives in your hands.

Let us sit

and eat it together.’

close up photography of honey
Photo by Three-shots on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

Healed

And then she said goodbye

again,

and again,

and again.

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

all things,

all people,

him.

Unconditionally

her heart will break

until it no longer

longs

for what he does not choose.

Her deep blue sea.

A sea too deep for some to bear.

And this,

despite the sweetly ringing bell

of wholeness and grace within,

shocks her, still.

A truth to be seen,

to be held,

to be healed.

Categories
Life

Submissions

A few months ago I received a wonderfully exciting email letting me know that two of my poems are in the running for potential publication. A card company (based in America, I think) is holding them for a while, seeing how well they might hold up within their market space. If the poems do look as though they may sell…my words, and my heart, will be floating across a greeting card or a thousand. How exciting. Since I was young, I’ve thought that might be a nice dream to achieve.

This afternoon, I sent three more poems off for review, and two children’s picture story books. Imagine that: all it takes is to write and believe, and suddenly the world becomes something new. Possibility. And possibility then becomes a beating heart, sent to replace the old one that went about the day without too much more to hope for.

This is the beginning of a beautiful new life, for me. I’m in love with myself for the first time in my life. I’m thrilled to have found a beautiful connection with my writing; unlike ever before, it flows without even the thought of a pause.

I’m falling apart quite often, still, and rather confused about the whole ‘love’ thing: why I didn’t just stick to seventeen year old me’s decision to swear off men forever, is absolutely beyond me.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Man, or no man, I have an open heart that’s ready to share. And it’s so beautiful to have it flowing and connecting with everything that I am…I could take or leave romance, I suppose.

Maybe I’ll just write about it, instead. ☺️

Categories
Poetry

Sleepy Heart

Sleepy heart,

whisper to me

of laughter and love;

comfort trickling down

the mountain of mysterious

life.

Shall I bring the sunrise?

Shall I wipe away these tears

with the sweet knowing

of tomorrows smile?

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 12. Darling Days

The echo of two hearts

drifting down the hall,

and all the darling days

we skipped arm in arm,

like children;

no more.

All the beauty of our yesterday,

I remember you.

Fondly,

I remember the darling days,

and I smile

as I crack down the middle

again.

Another fork in the road.

Another road of destiny

to travel.

Without you.

man in black long sleeved shirt and woman in black dress
Photo by Jasmine Wallace Carter on Pexels.com

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Categories
Life

Connected

I felt connected to myself today, somehow more grounded than I’ve felt for a long while.

It was a surprising— and much longed for—shift in energy, I have to say. It reminded me of the early days of this blog, when I was still me enough to feel steady on my feet, but not me enough to know I was about to fly somewhere. And I didn’t know where I was about to fly, all I knew was…it was going to be somewhere else. 

Somewhere alive.

Somewhere free, somewhere so incredibly beautiful— and as it happens, that place is slowly finding me. Slowly, very slowly, but it’s finding me, and I’m grateful.

I’m grateful to those of you who’ve stayed with me through the waves. The highs and lows of a newly single Mum of two, who, quite frankly, still has quite the way to go before finding anything that looks remotely like stability.

But I’m getting there.

And today…well, today made me think that I might just be a little closer than I thought I was to getting back to the grounded girl (woman) who started this blog.

The depression has been the killer for me, I think. The uncertainty of a life gone mad, threw me (and continues to throw me, actually) under the bus of life, and given I’ve isolated myself fairly solidly for, oh, you know, my whole life…I’ve largely been dealing with all these changes alone. So, guys…it’s kind of sucked. Majorly. Just a little bit. (I should point out that I’m not placing myself in the role of ‘victim’, here. I’m aware that every step of my journey has been mine to take. I’m just pointing out what has been.)

Actually, I’m so truly grateful for many things. Having you guys to come back to, my two particularly patient besties, a really rather reasonable ex-husband (and positively brilliant Father, might I add), and a Dad of my own who takes my breath away with his steadfast, gentle there-ness. I mean, really, what’s an upside-down life when you have all of those wonderful things to turn your frown around.

You may have noticed the changes to my blog, and if not, that’s okay. I’ve never been very good at noticing peoples’ new hair cut either (even if they’ve had long hair and cut most of it off).

One thing I can guarantee will not be changing is my absolutely bonkers personality; the girl that brings you ‘dad’ jokes one day and mushy gooey poetry the next. The thing that this ‘awakening’ has taught me is that I am a blank canvas. I can be whoever I want to be, whoever I enjoy being the most. 

And so I’ll keep being that slightly random (okay, pretty bloody random) girl you all know so well, if you don’t mind. I never did fit into a box, and I’ll never aim to fit into one either.

I’m just very randomly me.

And I’m so glad I’ve got a very lovely band of lovely heads (you guys!) to spill all my tears and love hearts onto, every now and then.

(Aww. xx)

cropped-img_1085.jpg
This old random, hey. 😛 xx

Categories
Life

The Ache Of Ever After

When the sun joins hands

with the silver white mountain tops,

she will remember him.

And an ache will drift slowly

across the heart left

between them.

An ache of ever after’s

‘what if.’

An ache

always to linger on.

Categories
Life

Sleep

It’s 4:11am.

The waves of a broken life roll through me like an unwelcome surprise upon a drying shore.

I think about hot chocolate and the sound of the ocean, because they soothe me.

Thank goodness for hot chocolate and the ocean.

Perhaps I might open up and let them flow a little deeper into me.

Perhaps, then, I might sleep again.