Categories
Life

Devastated

I’m devastated, I really can’t paint it any other way.

Melbourne, my home town, has gone into stage four COVID restrictions (the highest level: full lockdown, but for essential food/medical needs), which is very much necessary given the rising case numbers, but also very much a kick in the gut for those of us who are already struggling a little with life in general (hello to all the parents of sweet-faced three-year-old, terrorists.)

The struggle is a little more real for Melbournians, today. Yesterday, it felt like I’d been stuck in a mud-brick home with two small children climbing the same walls they have been climbing for months. Today all the windows have been boarded up. Considering I’m human, and not yet floating in Buddhist Monkville…I’m not living my brightest day. I’m aching at the prospect of the dark tunnel lengthening, and although I know It’s possible to change my thoughts in favour of more joyous ones, I don’t really want to do that, today.

I want to say: I know I will be okay.

I want to say: I know we will be okay, together, and a big part of me believes it— in fact the shining depth of me believes it. Still, it’s hard. And today I feel like I need to be the person that voices my pain, in order to act as a mirror for anyone else who is struggling with this. We’ll struggle together.

Empathy and compassion are my two favourite words on a good day, and these shit-storms of life are usually where those two traits are birthed and polished, within even the hardest of human hearts. So there’s one good thing. And interestingly, even with my natural inclination towards empathy, I’ve also been triggered to dive deeper into that aspect of myself in order to keep the peace at this tough time.

We all experience the world through our own focused lens, and my goodness it can be hard to understand the views and behaviours of others, sometimes, especially when they differ so radically from our own. But the last thing we need is to separate at this time.

So I’m here to say to those of you who are struggling: I see you. It’s so bloody hard to be human at times like this—really, so very hard to push through the dark curtains of life unknown, but we will. And when we do, we will be so proud of the growth and change we’ve produced as a society, I’m so sure. When looking back at the mountains we’ve each climbed on this COVID journey, we’ll very likely value our freedom and peace far more. We’ve got to see that as a win.

Lastly, I’ve been a bit tardy with my thanks to those of you who have pushed past your comfort zones in order to meet the needs of the more vulnerable in society, whether it be health care workers or those offering compassionate care to those in need. How beautiful you are.

No really. You’re beautiful. And you make me proud to human alongside you.

All the best, everyone.

We’ve still got this.

xx Brooke

woman in yellow tshirt and beige jacket holding a fruit stand
Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

 

 

Categories
Life

My Contribution

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I keep my distance from the news.

I have to, because the moment I face the full ache of this thing, I feel the pain of the entire world. Already, I’ve felt the fear of the dying and the sorrow of their loved ones. I’ve intuited the secret shame of the many humans walking the earth who are afraid that they will be next. (It’s okay to be afraid, by the way. You already know that, though, don’t you. )

Anyway, I’ve felt it all, and…I’ve felt helpless, quite frankly— especially since I’ve been wallowing in a pit of my own selfish pain for quite some time now. Because life (all of it, the whole joyful ache) still happens, even when there is a monster on the loose.

So I zoom right out, and I really look at it all. 

What can I do about all these aches everywhere? All the lonely people. All the fearful people. All the dying.

Guys. I know what I can do.

I can write.

With all my heart I can write, with all my days, I can write. For you— for anyone that needs something more than what they have—until there is some relief in sight. Until we are all able to live fully and wholly for ourselves again.

I can’t cure this disease (omg, lol, no ha ha ha) nor can I erase the ache of a world in despair.

But I have lived. And I can write.

And so I will write.

Over the coming weeks, I will do my very best to show up here every day, and often, with new life, new breath, new feeling…just because I know that it is right.

I know that it is right.

So get ready to live it all through me. Love. Heartache. Tenderness. Humanity. Peace. Fire. Sex. Sensuality. Softness. Community. Spirit. Sunshine. LIFE.

Everything. All of it.

Because that’s what this place was always meant to be:

The Little Blog of Everything.

With all that said…let’s kick this virus in the butt with all the bloggy goodness.

Just because we can.

So much love, bloggy family. I may, or may not, love you all dearly. (Oh, okay. You’ve got me. I so completely do. 🙂 )

xx Brooke

adult archery beautiful beauty
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com