And then she roared again.
And then she roared again.
There you are
behind a soft, uncertain smile,
surprised that you are loved.
You are loved.
It is your expectation
that has made it seem not so.
You see the world and ask it to hold you
as you wish to be held,
and yet this is not the way life works.
Life will hold you as it holds you
so that you may learn
Love is born in the quiet room
between expectation and reality.
Hold yourself in your quiet
and you will finally say:
I am loved.
I am loved.
I walk the streets listening to music that makes me cry.
I suppose I will do this until I have made peace with my past and become all that I am in this moment forever onwards, but for now, this is me: and me feels achingly beautiful. Like snow.
To walk the streets in this way, releasing newly risen anger and pain, is the gasp for breath I’ve needed to take for so long. Was I holding my breath, all those years? What did I do with anger and sadness before I learned to tie them in a ribbon of apricot sun?
I am no different to the one who reads this. Each of us travel through childhood gathering scars we will carry for the rest of our lives, or at least until we face them. I am facing mine, now.
I am feeling the anger and the pain.
I am also feeling a greater love than I’ve ever known.
For the sweet little girl I was, and still am in many ways.
For the beautiful people who loved me. How they nurtured my softness, how they pained to see it tarnished by the hardness of the world.
This is the gentle home of me.
Please, come in, just the way you are.
Who are you?
What do you need
to feel like
the you you’ve forgotten you are.
Hint: It’s the first thing that comes to your mind, bloggy friends. Doing that thing will help you live your best life. I’m so sure.❤️
Ps. I’m going to take another break, I think. I’m doing a Writing for Children’s Picture book course, so I might benefit from a bit of space while I move that through my world.
Please feel free to stalk all two years worth of my blog if you miss our daily love ins. You know I love nothing more than sharing my heart with you all. Go nuts. xx And have an amazing week. ❤️
May each day
bring each heart
a brand new shining sun.
This morning I was taken back to the year 1997, when I sat glued to the television, hoping with all of my everything that a man named Stuart Diver would be rescued from beneath a mountain of rubble — the devastating result of a landslide at Thredbo: an Alpine Village in New South Wales, Australia.
The landslide at Thredbo broke the heart of just about every human in Australia, I’d go so far to say. Stuart was the sole survivor of the landslide that killed 18 people, including Stuart’s wife, Sally, who drowned in the rising icy waters beside him.
This post has no direct link to Stuart Diver and his shining human spirit, but it does have a few indirect links to (and hopefully a few reminders of) the magnificence of the human spirit. So I’m writing these words in honour of Stuart, and also in honour of every human who knows how beautiful it feels to shine through our dark times together.
Right now, twenty three years after Australia came together so beautifully for the good of one man, humanity finds ourselves in the united states of everyone hates each other. Just when we need each other the most.
What happened all those years ago, however tragic, was the most magical shining human thing I’d ever experienced. Aching life had brought us together. All of us. Every Australian, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, personality type: we all became one as we anxiously waited to see if our mate Stuart would pull through.
We cried real tears as we witnessed the beautiful bond between rescued and rescuer. We winced at the thought of Stuart’s journey beyond the rubble (which, tragically, only got worse before it got better when Stuart lost his second wife to breast cancer.) My point is: we ached. And we ached together.
We’re not those united humans, anymore. We’re about a gazillion aspects of our oneness, bursting into about a gazillion fragments of hate and pain and judgement. What might happen if we take a moment to remember just how beautiful we are, together? What might happen if we sat in our quiet for a few moments and just loved each other fully?
Currently, humanity is healing from about a billion years of collective shadow trauma, so the mature part of me wants to be kind to us as we vomit up all the nonsense we’ve shoved down for so long.
But there is another aspect of me who wants to shout at us for being dicks, and say: ‘Guys. We’re not getting it. We need to just stop and see the bigger picture.’
Sorry for the cranky pants.
I suppose I might post a soft and fluffy poem on here tomorrow.
But did they give you a box of darkness?
Or was the darkness
already inside of you.
Waiting for someone to press:
I’m feeling such a tender ache within me, this morning. The aching quiet, I call it, this softness. This knowing of connection between humans and life, between humans and other humans.
Tenderness — more specifically, sitting within the depths of this beautiful, intense feeling with others — is something I’ve accidentally avoided in the past. I had no idea I’d been avoiding it until…oh, about ten minutes ago when I realised how beautiful it feels, and how much I’ve been craving it. And avoiding it.
I thought I wore my heart on my sleeve. I do wear my heart on my sleeve, so it’s easy to see how I’ve fooled myself. But when I really think of the years gone by, I think of that bright, bubbly sunshine I used to be…and I see that her sunshine was a wall. Of protection. A wall to keep the depth of intensity in. Or out.
I still get a little scared. I still want to run. But every time I run, I lose a beautiful, beautiful moment of human connection that could have changed two human lives for the better. Every serious moment I cover with humour, I suppose, is way of rejecting myself and the truth of what is asking to be.
Perhaps I’m over thinking it. But to me this is more of a feel, a feel that is running very deeply through me on this cloudy morning.
This tenderness is so lovely, far too lovely to live without.
From now on, I choose to be brave.
Shine, my sweet bloggy family.
Always be you.
In all your flawed magnificence.
come find me sweet.
Spill your goodness
into the arms of the day,
until the sun shines on the fields