Categories
Poetry

This Great Love

I am the soft of you

and you are the soft of me.

There is nothing

that taints this great love.

Nothing,

not even the words

you cannot say

while I stare,

while I marvel at your majesty

and blooming life.

Sweet nature.

Sweet love of my life.

I see you, darling.

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.

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Categories
Poetry

Just A Rose

A rose is just a rose

to those who choose

not to know her.

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
Life

Tulips

How lovely the humans are

as the tulips tip toe around them.

Categories
Life

Soul Skating

I attacked the garden today. Actually, as usually happens, the garden attacked me—but my goodness I enjoyed the time out there with all that green and lovely stuff.

Until about thirteen seconds ago, this post was going to be about my interesting emotional state whilst chopping, weeding and sweeping all the clutter into neat and tidy piles. But the final sentence of that last paragraph there has triggered me into a new train of thought, so I’m going to go with it.

This morning I took my Son roller skating for the school holidays, and while skating around the rink with the little roller cutie, I got to thinking about how light and floaty skating made me feel. As I whizzed around, light as a feather, it felt as if the energy within my body had found its most comfortable physical state.

‘Hah. Interesting,’ I thought. ‘Humans do seem to be attracted to things that take the heaviness off our frames. Sky diving. Swinging. Swimming.’ Why would that be, I wonder? I’m sure there’d be some kind of boring scientific explanation for it, as usually there is in this very orderly adult world we live in.

But maybe it really is because our body is, in fact, an additional extra. That our souls have all kind of just landed and gone: ‘Right, I forgot. I have a body, now. Gosh. Well, what on earth am I going to do with this heavy thing, then?’

Sometimes I feel the lightness of my bodily energy clearly, and other times I don’t feel it much at all. I feel it when music mixes with it. I feel it quite a lot when I’m in nature (nature feels like a deep breath of clean.)

And that brings me full circle, back to paragraph one; the trigger that changed the entire trajectory of this blog post. The thought of how my energy felt while being out with the garden today, versus the thought of how it felt while skating. Can you see how my brain made that giant leap, and consequently ended up drowning you all with another tale of woo woo? (I wonder if others feel as random as I feel sometimes.)

Today’s skating experience made a clear adjustment to my nervous system, and it made me wonder why. And what. And how. So I’m probably going to keep wondering about that a bit longer. And maybe someday I’ll try and find out the real truth about why roller skating feels sooooooo goooooooood.

Ps: I’m totally gonna get some roller skates.

woman in white shirt and denim jeans carries skate shoes and tote bag
Photo by Jean-Baptiste Burbaud on Pexels.com

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
Poetry

Rain

Maybe

this whole time

instead of running away from the rain

we should have been running into it

asking it questions,

like:

‘If you can feed the green under my feet—

what is it, rain, that you can do for me?’

woman in white shirt with green background
Photo by Anastasiya Lobanovskaya on Pexels.com

Categories
Nature

The Story Of a Soul

Sometimes

my soul hangs off me

in strips.

It makes me think of the bark

that peels from fat-trunked trees;

old layers tearing off in shards—

like maybe

the tree

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

need

to be hugged.

Just like we do.

adult couple dock fashion
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