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.

Photo by Maksim Goncharenok on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

A Story

It smells like a roast

but it feels like a story

of love,

of a garden,

and of home.

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Flight

Her flight

was sweet.

And every bit as magical

as the hummingbird

sipping honeysuckle

beside her.

Categories
Poetry

Garden Of Memories

This bliss springs from gratefulness.

The sweet garden of memories

we planted within

my heart.

Categories
Life

Be A Flower

Have you noticed how flowers open in groups? How certain flowers within the group open first, followed closely by a new lot that, for whatever reason, begin to grow and change at a different time.

But always they open as a group.

This is an important thing, I think.

Within their group, some flowers open together. Some individually. Some die just as the next lot begin to open, but one thing seems as sure as the sun does shine—

Every flower exists to open.

This is the natural way of things, I think.

Humans could learn a lot from flowers. We could learn to let the opening process be what it will be. You cannot stop a flower from opening as it will, and no matter how hard you try…you cannot stop a human from opening as it will, either.

So open as you will. Be a flower.

This will be your gift to the world, I think.

 

 

Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Fairies

Life is too short to dismiss the possibility of fairies.

I’ve never seen one.

And the imposter within me doesn’t even believe.

But I’ll never stop looking.

I’ll never stop pestering my children to look.

And when we find such magical lands as this…

I’ll look harder.

Ps: This is a public garden about twenty minutes from my home. Isn’t it the most beautiful place?

xx Brooke

Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Autumn

I’m lounging in the sun chair, peering into the Autumn.

The window’s grown cold, just like everything else around here that once was warm. It’s like we’re in a corridor. At one end: summer. At this end: winter. Maybe we’ll build a fire today.

The leaves are tumbling and it’s the most beautiful thing, to stand among the twisting and falling: orange, yellow, red. I’ve always marveled at the beauty of autumn, but this year seems different.

This year I feel the falling.

It’s a sense of relief, as though maybe this is a new start for my lovely tree friends, a shedding of old skin, the beginning of a new life. Beautiful trees. You begin again with such grace, such beauty. Such confidence.

It really is quite lovely of you.

photography of child pushing the wagon
Photo by Jennifer Murray on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 22. The Garden

Once upon a time, there was a garden.

And this garden—

Well.

It was the most magnificent garden in all the land.

Because, in this most darling of places, every day was a new season…

autumn blooming blossom bright

And every day was more beautiful than the last.

Everyone thought so.

Even those who could not walk the shady path with their own two feet.

Especially those who could not walk the shady path with their own two feet.

bloom blooming blossom blur

But there was darkness in this garden, too.

Darkness that bled up the roots of the trees.

Darkness that wandered and swayed and crept along the weeds,

gobbling up all the gentle hearts that lay open in its wobbly path.

brown wooden spider formed statue photography

Most were afraid of the darkness.

But the girl.

Oh no, the girl was not afraid.

The girl would never be afraid, for her heart was as golden as the sunshine.

And golden hearts (as everybody knows) need not be afraid of the dark.

adult air beautiful beauty

For the girl, each new day in the garden was beautiful.

So full of charm.

And grace.

And daffodils swaddled in polka dots…

pexels-photo-413707-e1526989885215.jpeg

And magic.

Magic lived in that garden too, did you know?

Well. You do now.

And the girl…she was the master of every little trick.

Every little miracle.

person holding clear glass ball

So, next time you wander the brightest day…

You might think of that girl.

Of her garden made from all the darling things.

And you might wish that you were there with her—

Two dreamers, marveling at all the lovely things.

Yes. What a sweet dream that would be.

close up of tree against sky

The darling blog of May