Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

The River Home

The dancing girl, her sister, her brother, her father and I will be home tomorrow. As usual I’m experiencing mixed feelings about the end of our lovely little holiday, but for the most part I’m wishing the trip would never end.

It is truly lovely to forget the world. To live in a reality that skims over the top of the real world. In this reality there are no responsibilities and no worries. Nowhere to go, no deadlines to meet, not really.The museum wouldn’t have missed us. The beach front wouldn’t have missed our morning stroll.

I will miss this ocean and yet it is the very act of missing it that is needed in order to guide me through life on a more aligned path. The loving, the missing: they are clues as to my greatest loves. They whisper softly, ‘Brooke, it is here you are most at home. Among the trees where there is water, where there is peace. Where there is peace.

Ah, yes. I’m glad for the leaving as much as I am for the staying.

The magical river of life has flowed me this way.

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Day 18. There’s no place like home.

Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Family

I wear my heart on my sleeve. I always have, I always will.

With my family here by my side on this, the great Tasmanian adventure, I’m pretty much bathing in love hearts…which is the loveliest.

That’s the thing about family.

They feel like home.

And at home I am free to be who I am, all the way ’round, back out the other side again.

It is the loveliest thing.

And they sometimes roll their eyes at my love hearty ways, and they probably think I’m a little odd, at times.

But there is always unconditional love to be found.

That’s the thing about family.

That’s the thing that fills my joy pots to overflowing.

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Day 15. Home sweet home away from home.
Categories
Life

Holidays and Summer Wind

Australian summer and there I was, sipping a glass of wine beneath the gumtrees, wrapped in my best winter scarf and topped with a little woolen hat. The wind: shocking.

It’s not unusual for the country town we’re holidaying in to reach these frosty temperatures at night. I’m certain we’ll look back in years to come with fond memories of swaying gums and whirls around the caravan park on bikes, but I also think we’ll marvel at Mother Nature and her wacky sense of humour. During the day, it is not unusual for the temperature to reach forty degrees celsius and beyond, some years, and yet the blankets come out when the sun falls. It’s quite funny, really.

It reminds me of Melbourne (my hometown) and her ability to display every single aspect of all four seasons in one day. The rest of Australia laughs at our expense, but the truth is: Melbournians gladly identify with this peculiar trick of the weather. We happily declare it one of our most impressive party tricks.

I’m breezy and happy, today. After a solo journey back to Melbourne, earlier, to celebrate my beautiful Grandma’s 90th birthday (and a nice big heart-opening drive back, listening to music) I’m so grateful for all the experiences that have brought me here. To this place in my life, I mean. Not just to this dodgy little caravan park in the middle of nowhere.

I am reminded of the worth of life experience each time I feel the beautiful glow of wholeness beneath my skin. Each time I feel the spirit rise within me; the times I’m ready, and quite able, to speak the truths my heart knows to be absolute. I am not perfect. Life is not perfect, and never will be. But I am here, and I am grateful for these exhausting family days (and even you lot fall upon the grateful-o-metre of me…aww, sigh. Like, really, you guys. x) so a girl couldn’t ask for much more to help drift me through my days.

Right. Off to drink my tea and snuggle up with, what is turning out to be, one lovely heart-filling book.

So much love, sweet bloggy friends.

Eat the cake. xx

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Categories
A Blog a Day in May

The River of Dreams

There will always be a river,

waiting,

waiting for me.

And I will lay me down

on her sandy banks,

bathing in the softness of me,

dreaming all the dreams

of this heart-shaped life

of mine.

There will always be a river.

Waiting.

Waiting for me.

calm body of water under green leaf tree
Photo by Melissa Jansen van Rensburg on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Today

Yesterday

I cried for the train that left my sad eyes

at the station.

But yesterday wasn’t today.

Today

I understood why the train had to leave

without me.

It was so I would go in search

of my wings.

It was so I would remember

how nice it feels

to fly.

silhouette of woman raising her hands
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

Riding In Trains With Girls

Australia is out the window and I’m feeling every bit of it.

The wobble of a train-shaken gut, the blur of gum trees and their naked cousins—every element of this three-hour train ride seems to be working together, whipping me into the icky sick of it all.

What a surprise this country of mine is, as we rumble along the tracks. It’s the middle of winter, and yet rural Victoria is a little bit confused about it all. What dress would I like to wear this winter, she wonders. And oh, how easily she changes her mind.

One moment she wears grass, like straw—paddocks of it, tall and waving in the sun. The next: sheep nibbled fields of emerald-green. Such indecisiveness makes me wonder if perhaps Mother Nature is a Pisces, like me.

The train is relentless in its quest to make good time, so much so that it seems to be wishing the beauty of the country away. I can’t say I’m sorry about that. Because although this vast stretch of land is all the bits of beautiful, and ever so charming in her lop-sided-windmill ways…this train has somewhere to go.

Home.

I’ve been visiting family in country New South Wales—just me, no one else—and do you know what? It’s been reading, and writing, and wonderful. How these few days have filled my belly and breathed life back into my dreamy (and maybe a little bit exhausted) soul.

But do you know what else? The very best thing to have arisen from this refreshing time away? Home. Knowing it would still be there. Knowing that after I’d finished letting my soul do all the deep breathing…home would be waiting.

Gosh, how I’ve missed home.

And gosh—how I’ve missed the people I share it with.

bridge clouds forest guidance
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