Beautiful are the moments
where I remember
you are you,
and I am me.
Perfectly.
Beautiful are the mornings
the sun shines on cobwebby thoughts
and there I see the glimmer of truth.
How beautiful you are.
How beautiful I am.
How beautiful.
To know that different
is not another word for wrong.
I’ve come to realise that creativity is just the art and flow of being yourself. There’s really not a lot more to it than that.
At its core, creativity seems to be made of the absolute depth of who we are. And the depth of who we are is always waiting, somewhere beneath the surface, to be shared in its most resonant form. (I believe this is true for every human being. Not just those who are considered creative types.)
For me, the purest form my creativity takes is music. My voice, in particular, seems an extension of the calming, soothing essence that naturally seems to spill from the deep, internal parts of me…and so my music always does seem to reappear in my life, no matter how far I stray from it.
For a lot of years I judged myself (my voice, my performance capabilities) based on what others were doing with their own musical talents. Somewhere in my teen years I grabbed a hold of the idea that, although my talent was constantly being validated, I didn’t have a voice that could compare to a real singer. According to young human me, real singers had a range that reached far beyond the heights that my limited range could. Real singers were perfect, never to stray a note in pitch at all.
How sweet it is to have found the most beautiful new gift of evolved perspective when it comes to my music: that being…my music is my essence. Unique and beautiful, and only mine, never to be compared to any other. My voice and my music are here to achieve their own purpose. And this purpose has nothing to do with an out of this world range or perfectly crafted technique.
There may be singers who use a wider range of skills to express their musical essence in order to thrill…but to thrill is not what I am here for. I am here to express the depths of my heart. I am here to heal with my voice and perhaps to bring peace, calm and emotion to those who connect with my music, writing and creativity. How beautiful, to finally come to know this of myself.
And so I continue to release my musical essence as it is.
No more excuses.
No more foolish voice within trying to compare my musical self with others.
They are all beautiful fruits to be savoured and cherished in the fruit bowl of musical life. I am a different fruit, who finally understands that apples and oranges never will compare.
The wind cannot be caught.
It cannot be moulded to perfection,
scraped and gutted
and made to be something other than
what it is.
The wind is only, and always, the wind.
And you
are only
and always
you.
Flow as you will.
I love how deep this heart of mine goes.
I love that if I love you, you know just how much and why.
I love that my feelings shine into the midnight sky.
Some might call this: overly sentimental.
I call it: my gift to the world.
Shall we unwrap it together?
I love that I am always learning about life and love, and all the things that fill me with yes!
I love that I am hungry. For everything. All of it.
Life.
Every moment.
Every day, even the grey ones.
Especially the grey ones, actually.
I love.
I love that I love.
I love that I love you.
I love that I love her, and him, and them, and that.
But I love that I truly love me, the most.
Because without loving me, I couldn’t love anyone else.
And what a horrible, terrible predicament that would be.
* Thank you so much for sticking by me through the tough times, my beautiful friends.
I’m doing okay, despite the grey days. I’ve been trying to fill my own joy pots as much as humanly possible, but also…I’m trying to feel the rain, too. I sense it is important to let the rain come. So I am. Whenever it needs to.
Moment by moment, day by day, life is happening. And for now, I’m okay to roll with it. I can’t wait to fill you with some more often bright and shiny love hearts when this heart of mine is all patched up once again.
Until then…so much love, gang.
xx Brooke *
Photo 1 credit:
Photo 2 credit
Photo 3 credit:
There is a little girl
in me
who is trying to be
a big kid
just like the others.
Just like the others.
One day,
I think,
she’ll learn to be
happy
with just ‘being me.’
However different.
However ‘not like the others.’
brooke-cutler.com 