Categories
Life

The Art of Living Carefully and Beautifully

I made the beds as if it might be the last time.

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.

xx Brooke

Photo by Teresa Howes on Pexels.com
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Home On The Wind

And today I built a garden.

I toiled and sweated, pebble by piece.

And today I met my soul again,

today I knew my home.

How blissful to find home on the wind.

How dear to follow the heart

where she leads.

Day 23. Following the sweet windy trail.
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Ugly, Horrible, Beautiful

Through pain, love and connection can be found.

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.com
Day 22. Everything is beautiful
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Breadcrumbs

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.

All the best, lovely bloggy friends.

xx Brooke

Photo by Felipe Borges on Pexels.com
Day 19. Flow
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Dancing Girl

She danced like no one was watching.

She went to that place where all artists go when they create.

She is my daughter and she is five, but actually she is ageless, and it was this beautiful, ageless essence that danced her.

We thought we were there to watch a busker play his peaceful guitar.

We weren’t.

We were there to watch her.

And to know it was a moment so precious that those of us who witnessed it won’t forget.

My darling girl.

She danced like no one was watching.

Photo by Tiu1ec3u Bu1ea3o Tru01b0u01a1ng on Pexels.com
Day 16. Magic.
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

A Beautiful Day

It has been a beautiful day.

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.com
Day 10. Grateful.
Categories
Poetry

Sweet Muse of Mine

Where do you go, sweet bell?

Where do you hide

when I long to feel your voice

sing through my bones?

I only know you;

the place I call home.

I only know you, dear constant voice

of heart,

of soul,

of love.

Oh.

But here you are again, little bird.

Here you are with the words I have missed,

the song I have so wished to hear on the wind.

Stay a while.

Please stay a while, sweet muse of mine.

Categories
Life

Creativity Rises

I intend to write one thing and another is born.

Creativity rises.

It controls me, not the other way around.

The poem I’ve just written began with a feeling of being stuck. Stuck in COVID lockdown. Stuck in a middle ground of dried up creativity.

So I sat down. I opened my computer. And I saw a cupboard on the blank screen of my mind.

I was in there.

In a dark cupboard, looking out at something…a little brighter.

The story began from there.

But it wasn’t the story I’d expected. It was something different, not at all what I’d originally planned.

Isn’t

creativity

amazing?

It drives.

I am just here.

Allowing it to be what it chooses.

Photo by kira schwarz on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

A Mysterious Animating Force

The sweet divinity that lingers at the edge of life.

Writers and artists know it well. Actors and musicians feel it within their bodies. And none of us have any clue as to what it is. Not even those who believe, beyond a doubt, that they do know the source of this most beautiful, magical wind.

To understand this force would surely be like bottling and dissecting infinity. How could you bottle a never ending force like that? More to the point, how could you ever truly understand what it was or where it had come from? I just don’t think it would be humanly possible.

I read a book a little while ago, by Sue Monk Kidd, named ‘The Book of Longings’. I’ve been re reading it, and last night I couldn’t help but smile as I came across a familiar idea. The invisible divinity. She mentions it in the book, and right away I knew I had to share it with you all. Surely as readers and writers, both, you have felt this invisible magic. How beautiful it is to know we are not alone in our recognition of it.

The act itself of writing evoked powers, often divine, but often unstable that entered the letters and sent a mysterious animating force rippling through the ink.

Sue Monk Kidd. The Book Of Longings

At University, I studied writing. One of the units I studied was called, ‘Writing: Finding your Voice’ but the thing was…it never seemed as simple as that, to me. That we each have a ‘voice’ we can use to write with in a unique and beautiful way, or that one could simply ‘find’ this voice. Like finding a tennis ball beneath a shrubby, weedy bush in the desert.

All I can say about this mysterious voice is that I feel its magic arise when I relax my entire body and stop thinking. I’ve heard the phrase thrown about that, to evoke the force, we need to ‘get out of our own way’. To me, this is both entirely accurate and also impossible to comprehend.

Just whose way are we getting out of exactly?

And what, exactly, is the mysterious animating force behind it all?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

All I Am

How lovely it is

to find home again.

In this home

I am what I am,

and what I am

is a river,

a rock,

a lion,

a ballerina.

What I am

is all I am.

All I am

is all there ever was.

All I am

is all

I am.