Categories
Life

To Be

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.

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Categories
Poetry

Choosing Better

The darkness of life is a wonderful teacher.

I’ve been there a time or two,

and now I say, ‘no’.

Lovingly,

with fire and ice,

I say no.

No, thank you.

No. Thank you,

no more.

Such a lovely relief,

the roaring breath of certainty.

The trust of a self who deserves better

than they have given.

My worth is here to stay.

My love is mine to give,

not theirs to take, and take

and take.

Let others play in the dark rooms of maddening life.

Let this girl fly,

a darling wonder,

into the sun beyond it all.

Safe.

Loved.

And perfectly capable of asking for love,

respect

and home.

Home.

How beautiful it feels

to finally tell them I am home.

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Categories
Poetry

The Eyes Of Others

She is the golden skin

by lamplight.

She is not the beauty

they see

in her face,

her eyes,

her hair.

She is glorious

alone.

Without the eyes of others.

Categories
Poetry

For Now

In a world of fire, I am the stream.

Peace.

My heart wants nothing more, my soul wants nothing less.

I am tired.

So tired of the saddest story: well meaning fighters, fighting for good, creating the worst kind of bad.

I am tired.

Of the battle.

I do not need you to fight for me,

and they do not need you to fight for them

because those of us who have been broken are the wisest of souls.

We do not need to be saved.

We need peace.

We all need

peace.

War is what we have.

For now.

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Categories
Poetry

Isn’t It Funny

Isn’t it funny

that for a moment

you forgot how wonderful you are.

Sweet, dancing sunshine.

Isn’t it funny.

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Categories
Poetry

Permission

The song of this heart

sings

without

permission.

Categories
Life

Wildfire

I am a wildfire.

Where the flames fan wide

and the blue ripples split

the deep orange stream.

I cannot control what is wild and free.

I cannot control

a wildfire

like me.

Categories
Poetry

Tomorrow’s Sweet Sun

How sweet it is, dear life.

To choose better, without handing a cup of pain to another.

To know my worth and to ask equal to its value without hesitation: a true gift from the whirling, twirling invisible world of all.

I have a choice, is what life has shown me. To kindly and carefully choose a brighter day. To say thank you but no, this does not work for me.

To seek compromise fairly

or else

gracefully capture

tomorrow’s sweet sun.

Categories
Life

Fly Free

Fly free,

sweet bird,

from the spiral mind

that cages

and twirls you.

You are beautiful

always.

How funny

that you sometimes

forget.

woman at the beach feeding the birds
Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

Dear Heart

Dear heart,

thank you.

For singing to me

the beauty of my soul.

And having me believe

every sweet sound of it.