The wind, I think,
The breath of the earth.
The song of the trees.
And we will bathe in her softness,
and every day.
The wind, I think,
rolls all days into one.
May she catch us
and show us
the truth in her song.
She floats on the wind
as they stare.
And they will never know her
as their own.
Never see her truth
as anything other
than feathers in the garden.
Yet, she knows herself, dear.
And she knows, darling softness,
that a field of daisies
and dandelions waits for her
Where the soft things come together
And today I built a garden.
I toiled and sweated, pebble by piece.
And today I met my soul again,
today I knew my home.
How blissful to find home on the wind.
How dear to follow the heart
where she leads.
Through pain, love and connection can be found.
Through misstep, the sweet path forward can be carved and tread.
I remind myself, often, that mistakes are beautiful. Contrast to what is ‘right’ brings truth to those who allow themselves to see their imperfections. It is okay to be vulnerable.
It is okay to fail.
It is necessary to fail in order to gain perspective.
I have a bad habit of getting down on myself and my imperfections, and yet I also sit here with eyes wide open. I see that every mistake was perfect. Every dark moment, shimmering with light.
Life is ugly, horrible, beautiful.
Life is mine, and yours, and ours.
I ache with gratefulness.
I ache with it.
I know the words I’ve spoken are true;
they have been wider and further than the ordinary kind.
Those words of the heart that stretch across souls, here they are: truth sending forth her deepest moan.
The absolute truth is unmistakable.
the absolute truth.
I’m going to gift myself something beautiful, tonight.
I’m going to gift myself time.
I’ve been running on full speed, trying to be everything I can be, just in case I run out of minutes in my day.
Most days, as a Mum of three little ones, I do run out of minutes.
So, tonight I will sit and breathe.
I’ll not need to go anywhere, I’ll not need to do anything.
All I’ll need to do
And the time starts…
It’s becoming easier. Easier to find them, easier to keep them.
I suspect it is because I’ve been at this meditation caper for so long now that the benefits are becoming more obvious. My flow state is easier to come by and easier to recognise, and because of this, life is peaceful and fulfilling for the most part.
I thought it might be nice to share with you some of the ways I come about this state of flow, in the hopes of helping you find your own river of loveliness. It’s a beautiful thing, to know your heart and follow its whisper. And although your journey to the centre of you will likely be different to mine, I wanted to leave this little love letter for your soul, just in case my journey is able to help in some way.
Meditation. This could look different for everyone. Some might meditate by gardening. Some by drawing or colouring. Some by sorting grain into different piles (no kidding, it’s a thing, and I’m tempted to try it.)
I meditate the eyes closed way, daily. I also garden and draw, but I find that cleansing and grounding my energy via meditation works the best for me. Most of the western world denies the existence of subtle energy, but I feel it within my body, and because of this, I feel when there is a blockage.
Does meditation make me the perfect human? No, sadly not. But it does seem to help me in many areas of life. Parenting. Relationships. And creativity. It helps me feel more alive physically, mentally and emotionally. I’m beyond grateful.
Following the Breadcrumbs. We’re all a little bit the same, but we’re also very different. Because of the different part, it’s important to come to the understanding (at least it was for me) that although it helps to be inspired by others, ultimately we find our truth on our own. We hear the heart whisper. We follow the breadcrumbs.
When I first began following my breadcrumbs, I was still heavily influenced by the truths of others. In fact, I didn’t know I had a truth. All I knew was what this person thought or what that person did, and I assumed that they were right and so I should do their this and their that.
Eventually, I began following the little whisper of my own heart. The process was similar to following a breadcrumb trail. I’d pick up one crumb (idea/action) on the track and that would lead me to the next, and the next, and the next. This breadcrumb trail, followed fluidly, is my flow, a state of love and fulfilment unique to my own journey. It’s partly why I question the point of even writing posts like this: because you’ll find your own way. You won’t need me to write a ‘how to’ blog post. You’ll have you. You’ve always had you.
One crumb reveals the next.
On my journey, I’ve found that each step reveals my next action.
An example is what happened today, when we got home from our trip. I probably should have been unpacking. Instead, I found myself down on my hands and knees, replanting a cutting I’d taken from one of my other plants in the garden. This wasn’t in the plan, and yet I just went with the river to see where it headed. It headed to me clearing a new patch of garden, which now looks absolutely lovely and neat and promises so much more joy to come.
The thing is, I’d never even thought this garden might be a part of my future plans, and it was only after trimming back my other plants that I gave it any attention at all. Now I have plans to redesign the whole space. It’s already changed our yard so beautifully, no doubt the next breadcrumb I pick up will reveal something even more magical.
I hope that little waffle session has given you a little something to think about. I’m sending so much love to everyone and hoping a great big river of you comes along and sweeps you up. You won’t always stay in its current (at least, I don’t, because I’m human) but you will enjoy it when it grabs you, I’m so sure.
All the best, lovely bloggy friends.
Tasmania is beautiful.
And that feeling of being outside of your life, even just for a little while, is so intriguing and lovely, it’s no wonder humanity clings to the promise of the odd holiday, every now and then.
The escape from reality.
The escape from too much of something that none of us can quite put our finger on.
I’m so grateful for the contrasts of life. If it wasn’t for those aching days, moments like this beautiful one (a moment that finds me at a large wooden table, the ocean over my right shoulder) wouldn’t feel quite so extraordinary.
Day two of the Tassie trip.
On this tired night,
I know I have been blessed.
And so it is
I send a seed of this sweet day
into the arms of the sorrowful.
And I say to them:
take this day and make it yours,
then you will know the sunrise
Such a beauty has been this day.
Rest is now.
Rest is now.