Categories
Poetry

At Five

Sometimes

I feel five.

Like the world is big

and I am small.

And there are kids all around

bigger than me,

louder,

scarier,

bolder than this softness

that folds me

like tissue.

(No one else folds like tissue.

Just me.)

The softness of me at five

lingers;

a scent

(like lavender)

on the breeze

of my soul.

The softness of me.

The softness of me.

Categories
Life

The Journey

Life, for me, has been an up and down ride.

A little like one of those slides at the playground, the ones that follow a wave-like movement and snake you all the way down to the ground, sometimes taking your stomach with it.

Life, for me, also changed when I had the epiphany that my body (and I believe all bodies, but that’s a theory for another post, I suppose) was absorbing the energy of life around me, and I was reacting heavily based on whatever it was absorbing. Needless to say: learning, and exploring, the term Empath changed my life. And learning about subtle energy and meditation changed it even more.

This morning—all in the space of an hour—I’ve had memories resurface that (although I missed the memo at the time) were very obvious signposts as to my body’s highly sensitive nature. I’ll never forget, about a million years ago, sitting in the passenger seat of our old clunker with my Dad at the wheel. Every morning we would travel to our shared workplace together, and every morning, in a confused state of discomfort, I would shudder as I listened to the morning show hosts chatter away.

I adored the two of them. The whole town did, actually, they were a beautiful pair. But. They were extremely negative, and always it felt like there was a heaviness or grumpiness to their chatter that had me dreading the morning commute. It was confusing because I liked them. It was horrible because they felt so entirely uncomfortable within my body.

I now understand that this is because of the way that I am built, that the more dense the feeling I’m exposed to, the more I tend to flounder. As a result, a good amount of alone time is extremely important for me to get back into the middle of me. Extremely important. (Have I mentioned how important alone time is for me? Very.)

It’s not all bad, though. If grumpiness feels completely horrible to me, you might be able to guess how absolutely beautiful love feels within my tiny human frame. And nature. And music— oh good heavens, don’t even get me started on the absolute purity that music fills me with. It feels like a beautiful wind. A wind that twists and frees my body in ways I never thought possible.

Anyhow, it’s a journey. A beautiful adventure, filled with tears and joy and all the horrible lovely things. Where to next?

I suppose we’re all about to find out. 🙂

woman in brown jacket and gray knit cap
Photo by ArtHouse Studio on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

Snowflake

I must be a snowflake.

Pristine and fragile as the storm rages.

In the shadow of the ice hills, I tumble

searching for home.

Never landing.

Always floating, tumbling, hurting.

Home.

Where are you?

Where are you steady and gentle home?

Categories
Life

Harmony

Dark into light.

Day into night.

The contrasts of a woman

swirl within the delicate human picture frame of me.

And I wonder if day and night will ever find each other in perfect harmony within.

Categories
Spiritual Awakening

Embracing The Woo Woo

Today, the energy of the earth feels like a dense, dark chocolate cake. They say it’s because Mercury is in retrograde and the moon is doing all sorts of eclipsing and the like, so things are probably going to feel a bit dense. But why does my brain have to feel it like chocolate cake? Perhaps I need more sleep.

I’ve been afraid to really go into too many of the changes that have been slowly melting my life over the past eighteen months (such as a new recognition of the way my brain perceives subtle differences in energetic states) and there’s a reason for that. Fear. Fear of losing my nearest and dearest. Fear of being seen as, ‘Ah, yes. That crazy girl who thinks she can feel the difference between an everyday kind of day, and a lunar eclipse kind of day.’

Well. I mean…it’s happening, whether I like it or not. And I have lost people, and likely will continue to do so, over time, sadly. But what seems to have been the theme of the day (for, oh, I don’t know, a whole year) is that the universe is really just not having a bar of my nonsense denial phase and is really rather emphatically pushing me to move into my new skin.

I think I’m finally ready to run with it.

For those of you who are pretty happy with the blog the way it is…don’t worry. I don’t see any drastic changes happening with the creative type posts I pop up— this is my creative haven, after all, and I’m so grateful to have the chance to share that deeper part of me with all of you.

But what I am thinking I might do, is be brave and talk a little more about some of the more interesting things associated with this new land of woo woo I’ve fallen into. The random psychic stuff that happened at the start. The energy stuff. The way I used to see the world, and the way I just don’t see it that way anymore. 

Yes. I’m going to go there, you guys, because it’s really actually kind of cool and exciting, depending on how wide you’re willing to open your mind. I’ve been fully checked physically and mentally— all is good. So now I’m forced to face the ultimate truth. That all this must mean…I am more than what I always thought I was. You are too. We all are, in fact. So why don’t we just run with exploring these possibilities and see where they lead. I’m game if you are. xx

photo of island during golden hour
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

Categories
Spiritual Awakening

Changes

I took another sneaky day away from here, yesterday. I was busy ‘processing’ some soul questions and spilling the watery leftovers out my eyes. It’s an ugly blubbering kind of thing that happens when I cry, although I like my Step Dad’s version better. Once upon a time, he turned to my eighteen-year-old watery blues and said with a gentle, funny-man smile: ‘Hey, it’s not that bad. At least you look beautiful when you cry.’ (Ha ha ha. Sigh. My goodness I love that man.)

I want to talk a little bit about this thing that’s happening to me because, in truth, it’s the most profound thing to have ever happened in the world relative to me. I’m only in communication with one other person who has experienced this sort of drastic life transformation, too, (a beautiful friend of my Mum’s) so it’s been quite a lonely and frightening thing to go through, in some ways.

For close to a year, I have been going back and forth between two parts of me, trying desperately to merge these two very different aspects of myself into one whole human. Often times, this transition has felt like two different versions of me (my goodness I wish I could draw you a diagram) fighting it out to take control of who I am and where my life is going to next.

For most of my life, the rational side of me has taken centre stage. It has been the maker and keeper of rules, the iron-fisted disciplinarian that has made sense of the world around me in a very orderly manner. It has kept me safe. Then there’s the spiritual side of me, who I lost contact with some time after I became a ‘mature adult,’ and only now has she returned now that my heart has fully opened for business again. Oh boy, has she shaken things up.

The rational side of me—the order keeper that anchors me into reality—has had a bit to say about the arrival of her spiritual counterpart. She’s not all that keen to see what the new girl has to say, and I don’t blame her either. Among other things, this new spiritual opening has brought a level of sensitivity into my world which has opened up all sorts of weird and wonderful doors: a connection to nature that defies human comprehension would be one of those odd things the new girl has tossed onto the gameboard. (I’ll try and do a separate post on that connection, one day. It’s very hard to explain the lovely feelings that sometimes flow through me when I connect with the earth.)

So yes, while these two are battling it out, there have been some bumps in the road which have caused some tears— but actually, that’s where you guys are really helping me. You’ve given me a beautiful channel to move my newly resurrected creative energy through, and you’ve also given me some pretty wonderful shoulders to cry on along the way. That’s why I love blogging. The human connection. It’s not me against the world, it’s all of us together, sharing the good, the bad and the ugly of life.

I love that. I really do love that.

bench chair friends friendship
Photo by Tatiana Vavrikova on Pexels.com

 

 

Categories
Life

The Birds

The birds are highly sensitive this morning, and so am I.

Often we sing at the same time, me and the birds— it’s so completely wondrous to observe. We’re the same, humans and nature, it’s just that humans are quite often too driven by ego to admit that we can learn from anything smaller than we are, especially if that something speaks a different language than we do. Like the birds.

Speaking of wondrous, and speaking of birds: I saw the most beautiful—and quite frankly, bizarre— thing, the other day. I was driving back from dropping my little boy at kinder, and upon entering our court I noticed a lady tossing bread onto the nature strip. That’s when I saw the Rosella. It was sitting on her shoulder, and it was-not-moving. Not an inch. As I drove away from the two of them, the thoughts began to circulate. I have never seen a human taking a bird for a walk. Is it her pet bird, or has she found a way to connect with wild birds? Oh my goodness me. Either way, it was one of the most fascinating things I’ve ever witnessed.

I believe we all have these abilities, to harness our sensitivity to the point of a deeper connection with ourselves and the world around us. I’m starting to wonder if the key is: exploring our sensitivity levels and learning how to master them so that we might use them in more confident and efficient ways.

In my case, it’s noticing when my energy fluctuates with every hormonal surge and learning to just roll with the wacky emotions that emerge, rather than acting upon, or judging myself for, the way they enter the world. It’s about noticing that when the birds are loud, my heart is too (and why might that be, I wonder) and how can I use this sensitivity to make the world as beautiful as the birds do?

Life is such a full thing, and yet too often we live on the surface of it, forgetting the multiple layers of magic that we really and truly are.

That’s why I’m searching for my keys and trying to make sure that this ‘sensitive’ superpower of mine works just so. Because life is way too short not to walk around with a bird on your shoulder. I mean, really. Guys. Surely you all agree with me on that one. 🙂

bird perched on person s hand
Photo by Nicolas Savignat on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

The Deep End Of Me

If I love you:

Today, you feel like all the pink clouds in my sky.

white clouds and blue sky

 

If I miss you:

Today, I ache for what we make the world when we are together.

photo of four girls wearing school uniform doing hand signs

 

If I know you:

Today, I see every inch of your universe; inside, outside, below and above.

sky space dark galaxy

 

If I’m upset with you:

Today, you are the one black rock among a sea of white.

nature summer yellow animal

 

Today, I feel everything and all of us.

Today, I am swimming in the deep end of me.

photo of man with face paint

 

Photo 1: by Ithalu Dominguez on Pexels.com

Photo 2: by 周 康 on Pexels.com
Photo 3: by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Photo 4: by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Photo 5: by Clement percheron on Pexels.com

 

Categories
A Blog a Day in May

Music: The Most Beautiful Dimension

I’ve just been at the Piano.

I’d like to tell you a story about that, actually. How my piano came to be my ultimate happy place (and healing tool, you might say.)

It’s in my soul, I think. Music. It’s the place I go to escape the world when it gets too noisy, and it’s absolutely the place I go when I need to re-make sense of the world around me.

I suppose you might say I had quite an explosive childhood— and when I say explosive, of course I’m being a bit dramatic (lol). All I mean by ‘explosive’ is that I was a highly sensitive child, and although the world was all sorts of fun and wonderful, my sensitivity sometimes got to me. When the teacher shouted at the kid in the next seat: it wasn’t the kid that felt the brunt of that rage. It was me. I felt it all.

Although I didn’t know it at the time, I needed an outlet, a way to remove the yuck of a world that somehow seemed so much bigger than me. I needed a night light. A safety blanket to catch the waves of emotion, especially the ones that didn’t belong to me.

I still remember asking Mum: ‘Please. Can I have piano lessons?’ to which the reply always came, ‘Brooke. We don’t have a piano.’ Of course, I knew that. But my heart felt like it was being called to. It felt like I just needed to play. I don’t really have the words to explain the pull of such a deep need, but it was there and it never went away until that one special day. My fourteenth birthday, I think. The day I got my first keyboard.

Well. I was beside myself. Here I was, surrounded by lashings of colourful paper, staring at the one thing I intuitively knew I needed. I quickly taught myself to play, which was really just me tinkering away until what I was playing became something that resembled a tune. Soon I was writing songs. When I wrote, I said all the things my heart needed to say, I just let it all go. Whatever wanted to come out. I let it be.

And it felt good. It felt like a wooshing tunnel of wind rushing through me, taking with it all the angry, the sad, the tension. When I played— when I wrote— a new part of me came to life. The right part of me.

The true part of me.

It’s not surprising to me, when I look back, that most of my songs were written when I was in my teenage years, a time of hormones and boys and tears. (Oh, gosh. All the tears.) Those years were a time of absolute truth. A time of boundless dreams, but also a time where the world really could have ended if I happened to be ‘spoken’ to by a teacher that really didn’t know that I was a crier.

When those things made my world explode: I escaped. Into my music, into the wave of beautiful that sang into my bones. And that’s just all sorts of magic to me. That still is all sorts of magic.

My first love. My piano.

Okay. 🙂 Well, that’s enough sop for day two, I suppose. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

I hope.

xx

selective focus photography of piano keys
Photo by Steve Johnson on Pexels.com