the delicate slice of sun
the delicate slice of sun
Have you ever stood in an angry ocean and fought to keep your balance?
Have you ever been out walking in a gale and desperately tried to continue walking in a straight line?
Have you ever mowed the lawn and realised the hills in the backyard were absolutely not made for lawn mowers (more specifically, humans with little patience, with lawn mowers.)
Opposition everywhere. Challenges of control, everywhere.
Why did you fight what was, do you think, rather than going in the direction the opposing force was taking you?
How did it feel when you were fighting?
There was resistance in the body and the mind, wasn’t there. Your muscles were tensing, and your mind was fighting the natural way of things because your mind told you that the ‘right’ way was for ‘you’ to remain in control.
Your mind told you that you were the centre of the universe, in those moments, didn’t it. That if the force wasn’t with you, it was against you, and omg how dare it be against you. (cue anger, frustration, pain, and probably all the f*#@s.)
We’ve all been surviving for so very long in a way that goes against the natural way of things. Who could blame us for fighting, though, when we haven’t even been aware of the whole earth/universe/human connection thing.
We say things like ‘go with the flow’ because we hear that sort of thing in childhood, but no one really explained what it meant, because no one really thought about it for too long. Go with the flow? But what does that even mean?
No one knew. Until they finally did.
Until they had no choice but to surrender to the ocean that was. Until they’d stood against the windy backdrop of life, been knocked off their feet, and realised, finally, that there was no point in fighting for control of the ocean, the sky, the sun, the rain.
Or, you know, the back lawn.
Over the past twenty four hours, the universe has taught me a lesson that’s been in the making for a lifetime (I’m 37, lol, how dramatic am I?) and even though I’ll go back to being the forgetful muffin I was yesterday, today I see the lesson and I know the truth of it down to my bones.
It feels much nicer to become the wind that blows you, rather than to resist the flow of what just is. However frustrating the wind, the sea, the back lawn. It just is. And if it was going to be any other way…it would be.
Today, I saw the ocean I’ve been battling, the one that’s tossed me around for so, so, so long. My first instinct was to fight it. Instead, I became aware of the wave, and then I became it. I let go of what if, and I surrendered to what is.
And though it meant that ‘I’ wouldn’t be getting ‘my’ way…I somehow knew there was no point in fighting the natural way of things.
So I just didn’t.
What does it mean that a leaf looks so much like a feather, and a feather looks so much like a leaf?
Not many of us.
Because for far too long we’ve been busy.
Busy making sure the water cooler knows whose ex was the meanest.
Busy trying to remember what was on T.V Tuesday night, last year.
Who even knows what is going on with this July energy, but if you are diving deep into the guts of you, or kind of feeling a little bit like there is a thick layer of mud painted onto your skin, too…that would probably be because—drum roll— July-kind-of-sucks. Just today alone I have failed to even start anything I’ve set out to do, to the point where the day will be gone soon and I will still be wondering when it is going to start. (Disclaimer: this could also just be a ‘me’ thing, but I’m going to say it’s an everyone thing. It feels like it’s probably an everyone thing.)
Guys. I’m just here to say that it’s totally okay to eat all the doughnuts if July is, in fact, having its way with you, too. Go on— the sugary ones with jam inside are particularly awesome, as long as you don’t heat them up to the point of tongue burning. (Omg. Ouch.)
That reminds me of a fun story, and I reckon I need to tell it…if only to lighten us all up a bit. 🙂
It was when I was about eight, I’d say. I was an only child at this point, and my wonderful, fun-guy Step-Dad had taken me to Lunar Park (an amusement park) where we were plonked on a picnic bench, gobbling up hot jam doughnuts.
Everything was going well until he dropped the sugar bomb:
‘Right. Here’s a challenge. I dare you to eat an entire doughnut without licking the sugar off your lips.’
I could have died.
The way the story ended is kind of vague to me now. I’m pretty sure it ended with me meeting his challenge successfully but coming to the conclusion that, because of the amount of concentration needed to keep me from licking my lips…I didn’t enjoy the doughnut one little bit.
So, essentially, I won.
But I also lost. So mega big time.
And that was the day I realised I will never say no to that kind of sugary goodness ever again.
Happy July-ing, everyone. And happy weekend, too. xx
if this tree can feel the music
that plays into my ears,
and through my soul.
As my hand touches the smooth of her grey,
I let the music sing up her spine,
until I can feel her smile.
Until I can hear her whisper:
‘Thank you. It’s so beautiful.’
I believe the world is a puzzle, and we are the pieces.
All of us.
These guys. (Awwwww. xxx)
But no, I mean really. That’s what I believe.
We’re a puzzle.
And though we don’t often tend to think of it…
we all have our own special reason,
our own unique connector points
to make the world exactly the way it’s meant to be.
Maybe it’s time to be brave, and ask out loud:
What does my puzzle piece look like when it’s home?
What makes it bop, and zing, and burst with yes!
Most of us have at least some of the answers figured out.
Just maybe not all of them, quite yet.
Because, actually, we’ll always be still learning, right?
We are all unique.
And if we really are a puzzle (which I truly think we are, by the way)
we need to be our uniqueness.
Otherwise, we won’t fit.
And if we don’t fit—
The puzzle will start to look a bit like…umm, yeah.
(Never mind. We’ve still got this, guys.)
We all have a yearning inside of us
that tells us, quite firmly, where and how we belong
in the puzzle of us.
And yet many of us deny we can hear it,
for fear of being judged by the people who deny the puzzle exists.
(Those people, I suspect, keep their eyes closed for a reason.)
This is the start; I can feel it in all of my bones.
I don’t know where my connector points are.
I don’t know how to slot myself comfortably into place.
But I also know that doesn’t matter, for now.
The main thing is…I know about the puzzle.
And knowing about the puzzle has shown me
that we are all on our way to something good.
I’ve decided to surrender.
The universe has given me quite the kick up the bottom in the past year and reminded me of just exactly who I am and then some (and when I say, ‘and then some’, I mean AND THEN SOME.)
For instance, I was just out with my friend, the moon. A full moon tonight, which previously wouldn’t have phased me except now it does for reasons only known to the universe (and maybe the moon, and maybe the angels, and even aliens if you believe). Because If the moon moves entire oceans…how did it take me so long to wonder what it does to me? And when it’s at its fullest, and its energy is at its most vibrant…what then? Have you noticed how a full moon changes you? If anything, it’s made me feel a little bit cheeky, tonight. (Uh, oh. The nutter girl will be writing this blog post, it seems. :P)
Earlier today I was standing at the kitchen sink, blissing out to music, gazing at a tree over the fence…and it occurred to me just how python-like the arms of it were: thick, muscular shaped things, twisted up and around and everywhere. Again I wondered. How did I miss that? Thirty-six years of looking at things made of plastic and glass and human, that’s how.
But the most shocking thing that I’ve missed—something that makes my heart cry just to think it—is the friendship that nature makes with itself. How did I miss the wonder of the trees and how they reach for each other over pathways, their leaves meeting only centimeters apart as if to touch fingers in the most delicate of ways?
I was sleeping, that’s how. I was the bear that slept a thousand winters and woke up in a whole new wonderous world, and here I am now trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out just where and how I fit in.
So I’m deciding. I won’t be going back to sleep again— from now on I’ll be wide awake to the beauty of it all, no matter how many people think that I’m crazy for randomly loving trees so much. I’ll be deciding to live with more of my heart than ever before. I’ll be deciding to love as much as naturally flows through me, and if that means loving the stars and the moon and the sun a little more…then it’s happening. It’s happening, guys, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
Surrendering to ‘the flow of me’ means a few new things will be happening in my life, one of which you will very likely notice. I’ll be posting here as often as I feel called to post, from now on— and if that means posting more than once a day (like this) I might just do that.
Because just as the moon shines on the sea, and just as the trees go hand in hand…I write. It’s just the natural way of things.
Right. Did I hear someone say ‘cup of tea and a bickie’?
Why, yes. I think I did. xx
The wild in me
of the wild out there.
this whole time
instead of running away from the rain
we should have been running into it
asking it questions,
‘If you can feed the green under my feet—
what is it, rain, that you can do for me?’
my soul hangs off me
It makes me think of the bark
that peels from fat-trunked trees;
old layers tearing off in shards—
might be crying.
So that’s what a sad soul looks like?
When I walk in nature
I wonder if it’s true.
Maybe a tree wears its soul
on the inside…
and the outside.
And maybe trees
to be hugged.
Just like we do.