Categories
Poetry

To Escape

But if you only have eyes

for the way you think life

should

be,

then surely you are forgetting

to live.

To truly live.

As you are.

In this moment, this

version of life that you

so desperately wish

to escape.

Categories
Poetry

My Own Peace

Some days,

I take a deep breath

and ask the world to soften.

The world never does soften.

So I fall behind its wind,

and I find my own

peace.

Categories
Poetry

The Very Same Breath

But surely you know

the earth still breathes

the very same breath.

The very same breath.

And surely you know

we earthlings do breathe

the very same breath.

The very same

breath.

Categories
Life

It’s Funny How Life Hits You

It’s funny how life hits you.

Whilst taking a shower earlier, life hit me in a simple, yet profound way.

A sudden wave of gratefulness. For hot water, my goodness, such a simple thing: taken for granted every single day by far too many.

How grateful I felt for that water. How grateful I felt to have access to water, at all.

In that moment, I wished so desperately that those around the world who have never known the beauty of hot water on skin, might know that delicious feeling one day.

It’s funny how life hits you.

Photo by Armin Rimoldi on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

This Way, Life

If not this moment,

when?

If not under this orange-grey sky,

beneath these sweeping willows, fair,

where?

How do we taste the rain

and know it is good

if we do not open our mouths?

The warm salty promise

of new found life,

calling us home,

asking to grow our bones

in partnership with the sun.

When? Where? How, life?

Now.

Here.

This way, life.

Categories
Life

This Is It

Death, I suppose, does that to us. It’s one of those accidental growth inducing things that none of us actually want, but do end up getting from time to time. Lessons in perspective. Lessons in gratitude, these are just some of the positives that can come from death knocking on our doors. But today, death has broken me. And my empath metre is still reeling.

I’ve just read an article written by a Mum recounting her five-year-old sons final days. Cancer. To say I struggled to hold myself together wouldn’t be accurate. To say I fell to pieces is absolutely correct. What a devastating, devastating thing: to lose a child, and yet people do experience this sort of loss in life, and far too often for my liking.

I felt I owed it to that precious little man to reiterate the message his beautiful, heartbroken (positively grace-filled) Mum put out into the world, on behalf of her little boy. To live and love, is surely the greatest gift. To live now, to be grateful for this. What’s here. What’s out the window and how beautiful it is. To see that it’s pointless fussing over the little things, when there are even more little things to honour and cherish in this mixed bag of a life we live.

This Mum. She was given a beautiful gift, in the end, when her son’s final words were: ‘I am happy Mum.’ I am happy, Mum. It makes you think how dumb we are worrying about the extra weight we might put on over the holiday period, doesn’t it? It makes you think that, in the end, all we’re really here for is to realise nothing matters but the people we love, and love itself.

Anyhow, I should stop this because it’s going to take me down, again, but I think I’ve said it all, anyway. Most of you already know the way I view life. It is short and beautiful, and we have one chance.

One sweet, sweet, chance.

This is it.

This is it.

This is it.

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Categories
Poetry

Home

Living carefully and beautifully,

I know I am home.

Categories
Life

Shining

It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Awake at 3:30 am, and really not at all tired, actually.

So I thought I’d pay you all a visit and just waffle for a while.

I’m not sure why I’m awake. I’ve had a very emotional day, perhaps that’s it; I’ve not been the best with sticking to a proper meditation routine, over the past few weeks of crazy busy. For me, a break in meditation usually means that when I do happen to find a nice rhythm, again, the heavier stuff I’ve been carrying tends to clear in waterfalls of tears. It’s lovely, really. I’m more than happy to cry out my pains, especially when I see all the good it’s done me so far.

I’ve lived enough in my life to have found many pieces of the human pie, which continue to blow my world apart, beautifully. On the surface, many of these ‘growth’ opportunities have looked like pain, and yes, in the day to day living part they’ve been painful to go through. But they have shown me things I need to heal, and they’ve also shown me how far I’ve come since I was that soft, quirky, shy little girl who would back out a cafe door at the moment of entry, if the owner looked even the tiniest bit like a meanie. And that feels really, really lovely to me.

To have gone from being someone who has buried most of the difficult things I’ve faced in life, to now be looking at them and daring to move through them bravely: I’m very proud, I have to say. I’ve still got no idea half the time, and I’m still so brokenly human, but life is for living and that’s what I’m doing.

Not only that, but I now have the promise of a beautiful soft internal world to return to when the waves of human nonsense have passed on through. I know the soft girl’s energy very well, now, so when I fully embody the beautiful warm breeze of her, I know I’m home, and I’m grateful. What a gift. I’ll never take such feminine softness for granted.

It’s such a dense and horrible world at times, which still has the ability to topple me (like the bullying post I wrote the other day) but I am getting there, I think.

I should probably try to sleep, I suppose. 🙂

So much love, bloggy friends. You know you all mean the world to me. I hope you’ve all been sailing through your own human waves and coming out shining. If not, that’s perfectly okay. You will shine again. I’m quite sure of that. xx

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Categories
Poetry

Every Drop

You think you are one thing.

You are not one thing.

You are the entire ocean.

Take your time,

be every drop.

Categories
Poetry

Soft and Quiet

The time for soft and quiet has come.

Rest.

Lay down the bones of sorrows past.

Yesterday is a hush,

no longer ringing her angry bell.

She knows it true.

The time for soft

and quiet

has come.

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