Categories
Poetry

Love and Pizza

I firmly assure you.

Love

is all

there is.

Stop mucking around

and get on with it, world.

The pizza tastes better, there.

Categories
Poetry

Empty

I open my heart

and close my eyes.

And I am just me.

Just me

in this silent night.

Let me be empty.

Categories
Life

Fully Human

I’ve seen that image, again.

She sits alone (you could not get any more alone) at her husband’s funeral and we all just sit here and shake our heads, because what else is there to do?

I’m speaking of the image of the Queen at prince Philip’s funeral, but you already knew that. You must have. Who could un see that quiet ache, just another handed to us by the raging depths of humanity.

***

I have hidden from life.

Strike that. I am hiding from life.

Because it wasn’t the Queen sitting there alone that day, it was me. I feel the pain that deeply.

It wasn’t someone else’s little boy sitting in the back of a war zone ambulance, parentless; it was mine. That one slices my heart.

I can’t hide from that darkness, though I want to.

I have to see it.

I have to say it: I am torn to shreds.

***

I cried in my husband’s arms the other night.

I mean I really cried, remembering a time in childhood where I was chosen last of all the children in my class to join the netball team.

I cried, at first, for the poor and beautiful little girl whose heart broke that day. But the depth of my tears came from the realisation that that very moment in time made me the person who will always go in to bat for anyone who needs me. That girl will try her very best to lift others, so that no one else has to feel the pain of being unloved, unworthy, unchosen.

Born is the true beauty of aching life.

And born is the paradox. The knowledge that the other needs to feel that very same empathy-birthing pain, in order to truly see. Even though I’d give anything to protect them from it.

***

You see it, don’t you?

This ache, this wide open ache of humanity, has birthed the very best of us. It has grown our hearts and gifted us the ultimate; the chance to hold and love others from the very core of our being.

But, goodness gracious me.

It hurts to be fully human.

Fully seeing, fully being…

everything.

Photo by Nathan Martins on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

One

Hush, dear soul,

there is no need to question

the aching sorrows.

For they are there,

as is the joy;

two faithful companions

on the road to somewhere

and nowhere.

Oh, dear soul.

It is true there are questions

unanswered,

doors left unclosed.

Listen to the wind and you will see

there are no doors

truly

to close.

Only the ever drifting whispers

of impermanent life.

Always moving.

Never arriving.

My, dear soul.

Yes, we are weary.

Yes, we shall row into the sunset

as one.

Photo by Mat Brown on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

The Beautiful Things

There are days when the wind blows my feelings in storms over the sea of life, and on these days my old friend fear rows back to me and makes himself known. Do you need me, he says, can I hold you a little longer, he says.

On those days, I am human. On those days I worry and I cry and I tense up, thinking I might have lost something precious that once held me perfectly. Thinking, oh no. What if my life tumbles into bits and pieces, again?

Then there are the moments that shine like a diamond struck directly by the suns brightest ray. Moments of Devine breath. Like the other day, for instance, in the garden. The silent whispers were there again, and not in some imaginative fairy world kind of way. In a very real feeling kind of way.

Somehow (and you all know by now that I am completely clueless as to the how and the why of these sorts of things) there was communication happening between my heart and the earth. The weeds for heaven sake, weeds I once would have gritted my teeth at and angrily resented. They were silently singing. I couldn’t help but love them dearly.

Have you ever looked into someones eyes and felt they were speaking to you without words? If you’ve been in love before, it’s certain that you have. This kind of energetic communication happens between man and nature, too, apparently, and I am the first to say how surprised I am about this glorious darling of a thing.

And it is glorious. My goodness, it is.

There is no human language to describe a Devine beauty such as mans union with nature, but I truly hope that if you’ve not yet known this depth of beauty in your life, you one day will.

If not, I have been here, giving you my words and my heart, hoping they have been enough.

No one should leave this planet without going to this lovely place within themselves.

And so it is I send my wish out for all the world to find their way.

And so it is I am grateful.

I have found heaven at home.

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Messy Life

There is no need to be afraid of the

not good enough.

This weakness you perceive,

this pathetic softness you scold yourself for

compared to

she who declares herself strong.

Close your eyes.

Breathe and know this.

You are perfection

just the way you are.

For you must know this flimsy frailty

in order to recognise the goddess

who one day will rise within.

It must be.

For without this shadow

the towering goddess inside

would remain hidden to you.

Trust the journey.

Trust in the perfection

of messy life.

Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Peaches In The Darling Sun

It’s my birthday, today.

And because the sun is so beautifully shining on my world, I’ve decided it’s time.

Time to shine the sun outwards, once again. The world surely needs some sunshine, right now.

And so it is that, once again, this little blog of mine becomes a beating heart for the world, to hopefully bring you a smile on these days where smiles may be a little harder to muster.

I should say right here, feeling the depth of what is true (however painful) is so beautifully important in life, but so is feeling love from its brighter side, so that’s what this month will be all about.

I’ll be sharing many things this month to help us all stay (or become) connected to our hearts, including stories of joy, hope, or love, and also little tips and tricks I’ve learnt along the way that help me bring out my own sun.

As those of you who’ve been with me a while know, I’ve ventured out on many a ‘blog a day’ type journey over the years, and when I have, I’ve found it sensible to give myself a little room in order to create what wants to come. So this time around the theme will be centred around the heart in general, including themes such as mindful living, joy, hope, self love, inspiration, kindness, compassion, empathy, human connection: everything beautiful about what it is to be human.

So! Please, feel free to join me on this lovely little adventure. I’ll even be going on a family trip to Tasmania part-way through, and I’ll be bringing you all with me!

I’m so excited. I hope you are too!

So much love, my dear bloggy friends.

xx Brooke

Categories
Life

The Soft Girl Again

It’s hard to tell what brings me back to the Soft Girl. She’s certainly not always around, especially not these days of nappies and loudness and putting out the emotional spot fires of small children. But today she came back.

I found her in the music again as I drove back from the shops. Music has the peculiar ability to remind me of the beautiful people and times that have touched my soul, and when it does…the Soft Girl is right there. Opening the door. Letting it all flow in.

Why did I decide to call my spirit the Soft Girl, you might ask? Well, it’s because thats the way my energy feels when it moves within me. Soft. Like a gentle breeze blowing through me.

When the Soft Girl is around I feel calm and I feel peace.

And that’s all I’ve been looking for my whole life long.

Peace. That’s all.

That’s all.

And now I’m the closest I have been to having it, because I finally know that that is what I’ve been searching for all along.

I’m so grateful for the gifts meditation and yoga have brought to my life. I’m still unsure what it’s all for, and even what it is that I’m meant to do with these new and beautiful feelings, but I’m starting to gather the clues. And they are leading to new and delicious places, sometimes expected, sometimes a complete surprise.

I’m off to bed now, I’m exhausted.

But I wanted you, my beautiful bloggy friends, to know that I adore you, and I hope each and every one of you is in your happy enough place.

Goodnight.

From me.

The Soft Girl.

Photo by Angela Roma on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Call Me Shakespeare

Oh!

Has this truth been truly seen!

But a glimpse into a floating sea

of strange reality,

but a knowing truer than true can be!

Who is Shakespeare?

That terrible, desperate soul,

falling,

falling,

landing evermore in the stories

of aching romance and tragedy?

I am Shakespeare.

I am the writer.

I am the lover.

And so are you, love.

So are you,

lover of passionate life

and love.

Categories
Poetry

Tomorrow’s Rose

How delicate it is, the garden of eternity.

Interwoven; the past, present, future

of our sleepy meadow, dear.

One cannot possibly know how

or what

the wind of today will drift to the valley

of tomorrow.

One can only hope to gather roses in arms

and lay them down, admired.

But what of tomorrow?

A dried rose is surely a beauty.

A delight preserved from time gone by.

Take these roses, fine.

Take this heart

and scatter my soul freely

into the arms of the dreamers, next.

Tomorrow’s rose.

Today’s quiet and careful sun.

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com