My being in life feels slower. Gentler, and yet I’m sure this too shall pass, as all of life does.
I just read an old blog post, from 2019. The words were mine, written with my hands, dictated by my mind. And yet none of it felt real. It felt like a run away train of energy, and though it was my energy…this current version of me wanted to capture it. To slow it down. To calm it.
How strange life is.
I came here needing to write something, but I wasn’t sure what.
Now I understand.
I came here not to write but to feel. To notice.
To notice the change in me.
To feel the way my words want to linger in the air, rather than race full speed ahead.
These words, this energy wishes for authentic flow.
Just one step deeper. One step further into the stars, and I am there.
It is rare that I allow myself to come home, knowing the depths and where they can take me. Knowing that real life can never be a match to the perfect light I find in this place.
Why do I leave, I ask myself, when perfection is on offer, and the simple task of folding laundry is a beautiful gift of moment to moment life? Everything is soft in the moment. Everything complete, and I am wanting for nothing.
Thought is the destroyer of the wind that moves me, and yet I think, and I fret, and I think about why I’m fretting, and life becomes the scramble it was before I knew this beautiful home in the stars.
Today, this night, I feel a beautiful softness of heart. My eyes are tired, and my soul aches from all the disharmony in the world. And yet, gentle is here, and life fills me with memories of beautiful love gone by.
I didn’t think, ‘Oh. Gosh. You know, I better take more care in making these beds, I might be gone by tomorrow morning.’ It wasn’t like that.
I just folded the sheets over in a way that made my hands feel one with the sheets. I folded the pyjamas and placed them on the end of the bed while watching the way my hands moved; I marvelled at how beautiful those hands looked and felt to me.
It’s the most delicious season of life, this point in time where I’m naturally going with the flow that turns planets and unfurls flowers and plants.
I am just so grateful for all that beautiful loveliness, and I really wanted to come and share some of its whimsical wind with you.
And so I say:
I hope you know you are loved, but…I hope you also know it’s okay to forget, sometimes. Forgetting makes the remembering so, so precious. Truly.
I hope you always remember mistakes are the beautiful door to the changes life has been wishing for you.
I hope you learn to forgive yourself and others, and then go and eat a massive slice of chocolate cake on a random Tuesday, just because.
And I hope you…well, maybe I’ll leave this last hope up to you.
Hope something beautiful for yourself.
I promise, this wish will bring to you the most beautiful things.
Through misstep, the sweet path forward can be carved and tread.
I remind myself, often, that mistakes are beautiful. Contrast to what is ‘right’ brings truth to those who allow themselves to see their imperfections. It is okay to be vulnerable.
It is okay to fail.
It is necessary to fail in order to gain perspective.
I have a bad habit of getting down on myself and my imperfections, and yet I also sit here with eyes wide open. I see that every mistake was perfect. Every dark moment, shimmering with light.
Life is ugly, horrible, beautiful.
Life is mine, and yours, and ours.
I ache with gratefulness.
I ache with it.
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.comDay 22. Everything is beautiful
It’s becoming easier. Easier to find them, easier to keep them.
I suspect it is because I’ve been at this meditation caper for so long now that the benefits are becoming more obvious. My flow state is easier to come by and easier to recognise, and because of this, life is peaceful and fulfilling for the most part.
I thought it might be nice to share with you some of the ways I come about this state of flow, in the hopes of helping you find your own river of loveliness. It’s a beautiful thing, to know your heart and follow its whisper. And although your journey to the centre of you will likely be different to mine, I wanted to leave this little love letter for your soul, just in case my journey is able to help in some way.
Meditation. This could look different for everyone. Some might meditate by gardening. Some by drawing or colouring. Some by sorting grain into different piles (no kidding, it’s a thing, and I’m tempted to try it.)
I meditate the eyes closed way, daily. I also garden and draw, but I find that cleansing and grounding my energy via meditation works the best for me. Most of the western world denies the existence of subtle energy, but I feel it within my body, and because of this, I feel when there is a blockage.
Does meditation make me the perfect human? No, sadly not. But it does seem to help me in many areas of life. Parenting. Relationships. And creativity. It helps me feel more alive physically, mentally and emotionally. I’m beyond grateful.
Following the Breadcrumbs. We’re all a little bit the same, but we’re also very different. Because of the different part, it’s important to come to the understanding (at least it was for me) that although it helps to be inspired by others, ultimately we find our truth on our own. We hear the heart whisper. We follow the breadcrumbs.
When I first began following my breadcrumbs, I was still heavily influenced by the truths of others. In fact, I didn’t know I had a truth. All I knew was what this person thought or what that person did, and I assumed that they were right and so I should do their this and their that.
Eventually, I began following the little whisper of my own heart. The process was similar to following a breadcrumb trail. I’d pick up one crumb (idea/action) on the track and that would lead me to the next, and the next, and the next. This breadcrumb trail, followed fluidly, is my flow, a state of love and fulfilment unique to my own journey. It’s partly why I question the point of even writing posts like this: because you’ll find your own way. You won’t need me to write a ‘how to’ blog post. You’ll have you. You’ve always had you.
One crumb reveals the next.
On my journey, I’ve found that each step reveals my next action.
An example is what happened today, when we got home from our trip. I probably should have been unpacking. Instead, I found myself down on my hands and knees, replanting a cutting I’d taken from one of my other plants in the garden. This wasn’t in the plan, and yet I just went with the river to see where it headed. It headed to me clearing a new patch of garden, which now looks absolutely lovely and neat and promises so much more joy to come.
The thing is, I’d never even thought this garden might be a part of my future plans, and it was only after trimming back my other plants that I gave it any attention at all. Now I have plans to redesign the whole space. It’s already changed our yard so beautifully, no doubt the next breadcrumb I pick up will reveal something even more magical.
***
I hope that little waffle session has given you a little something to think about. I’m sending so much love to everyone and hoping a great big river of you comes along and sweeps you up. You won’t always stay in its current (at least, I don’t, because I’m human) but you will enjoy it when it grabs you, I’m so sure.
The kind of day that flows from start to end, like a delicious water feature lulling the water from plate to plate to plate, finally to rest in a peaceful pool below.
The bigger kids were perfect.
The baby was lovely.
I was in a state of peaceful balance, and as a Mum of three busy little humans, I’m so, so grateful for this state, always.
Isn’t life funny?
It’s usually when you’re most exhausted that peaceful days like today come along and provide the perfect contrast to the madness.
A beautiful day it was.
A beautiful day, indeed.
Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.comDay 10. Grateful.
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