A Beautiful Epiphany

From the depths of the ache came a beautiful epiphany.

A knowing that the day could be different, and would be different, if only I’d offer myself a brighter choice; something beautiful to fill my cup to just enough.

I stood in front of the bed, exhausted from lack of sleep.

How can you love yourself in this moment? said the whisper.

The answer: make the bed. Admire its softness.

Again, I stood in front of the bed, exhausted from lack of sleep.

How can you love yourself in this moment? said the whisper, once more.

A glass of warm lemon water. A candle on the ledge of the shower.

It was a normal weekday morning. A weekday morning that could have taken my whole day down had I not listened to the quiet voice of my heart.

I sat on the couch, still exhausted from lack of sleep.

Knowing I had lived beautifully.

Knowing that had been the difference.

Photo by annie untalan on


Shall I sing to you only of sun shiny days?

I cannot.

The clouds are grey over the meadow

and the rain falls fat and cold

upon the emerald green.

I will not tell you the sun is shining.

It is not.

The day is grey.

It is grey, and it is beautiful.

So incredibly beautiful, you see.


Dark Mistress

Oh, fear, my dark mistress sweet.

Play me into your arms of fright.

Chill me with crooked fingers.

Undress my calm,

tempt me into hiding:

I will rise.

And you will find the truth of me

has no room inside to hold you.

The truth of me flies

without you



A Beautiful Choice


What a beautiful choice.


The Pursuit Of A Beautiful Life

Failure is followed by trying again better.

And so I will never believe in failure.

I will only believe in the pursuit of a beautiful life.

loving diverse couple having fun in new own home
Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on



I Am Free

Dear History,

You do not tell my heart what it knows.

I tell my heart what it knows.

I do not compare my story to others.

I do not play into stories of fear, or guilt, or shame.

I do not welcome your pre-made dysfunction into my time

or my space.

I want what I want, and I choose it.

With bravery. And without hesitation.

I have hushed my heart for the last time.

This time, I say: enough.

I am me.

I am free.

blonde hair blur daylight environment
Photo by Sebastian Voortman on


Life and Death

I visited Nan, today. Beautiful Nan— she could light up a room just by looking at it, and all of us could feel her joy from a mile away. No wonder the cemetery she lives at feels so beautiful to me. But, do you know what? It’s not Nan being buried at the cemetery that makes it feel nice to me. It’s the general vibe of unconditional love that flows about the place; a rare feeling when you consider that, often, while we are living, unconditional love seems to be a thing only dogs know how to do.

Not at the cemetery. The love there (and I’m talking about the energetic stuff that lingers long after the visitors have gone) is pure and unconditional. I’d imagine there are many reasons for that. Firstly, the person isn’t alive, and it’s much easier to forgive and love a person unconditionally if they are no longer alive to trigger us into the negative (as perhaps at one time they may have.) Secondly, when a person dies, there is that glorious realisation that you actually kind of loved your person a whole lot more than you might have previously thought. That sort of realisation is bound to add a few extra love hearts into the mix.

I’m intrigued by the gravestones at the cemetery, too, particularly the words etched upon them. Usually, the plaque tells the story of a person who would be fondly missed by those they left behind, and I often wonder about that. What kind of a person were they when they were alive? What did they love, what were they good at? What do people miss about them now that they are gone?

As we wandered away from Nan’s grave, I asked my little boy what he thought of the place and, as any five-year-old would, his first inkling was to tell me it was a little bit sad (he’s going through a phase of  questioning death at the moment, so it was an accidentally well-timed visit, actually.) But then he went on to say that he liked it there, and I knew that he genuinely meant it because I really couldn’t see why a person wouldn’t like a place filled with such beautiful love hearts

With all that said, for any of my beautiful friends who’ve recently suffered the loss of a loved one: so many big hugs. At the moment, the cemetery may not feel like such a nice place to you. But I hope, over time, it will start to feel like the happy place I’ve described above, and when it does…I’ll bet all your beautiful love hearts will add another layer of lovely to the place. xx

trees in park
Photo by Pixabay on


Life to Come

She had spent too many hours of her life

fearing things

that might not come to pass.

brown hourglass on brown wooden table
Photo by Mike on




Beautiful, soft heart of mine.

I will play your every beat into the world

proudly, openly, completely.

Let them stomp together through the mud of their island.

We, dear heart, dear sweet, dear love.

We shall fly to the moon.


The Magic of Rain

Because rain was always meant to be magic.

Now do you remember?

women s gray dress
Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on