Categories
Life

Cereal And Life

The oddities of humanity. The neuroses that so often become us that really have nothing to do with who we are, at all, or what’s best for our health, wellbeing and growth.

Take breakfast, for example.

My body doesn’t know that breakfast is a man-made occasion, and yet, still, I choose to feed it specific foods such as toast, cereal, orange juice or coffee at the very time it expects to find them in my life. The morning.

My body, I’m fairly certain, just needs food. To be nourished. It doesn’t care if what I eat in the morning is not, what I might consider, ‘breakfast food’. Only the odd little whisper of my brain cares about that. Should I listen? Or should I challenge what it has to say?

It’s not just cultural expectations around breakfast that rouse me. For too many years, I allowed the cultural narrative of suppressing emotional vulnerability to rule my choices, and, as a consequence, I lost the ability to live with my heart. Goodness gracious me. My precious life moments. Potential soul singing moments, destroyed because I succumbed to a life story that, ultimately, had nothing to do with the truth of who I am.

I have no regrets. Every wrong turn has brought me to this place of strength, wholeness and home, and I am grateful for the rocky roads I’ve travelled thus far. How could I be anything but grateful for the ways it has all helped to shape and expand my perspective?

Life. How it has me in awe.

Over and over, again.

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Categories
Poetry

Unleash

It’s time

to unleash

my soul.

Categories
Poetry

Feel

Some days,

I can’t be here for you.

Some days

I need you,

to hold my softness

and let me fall.

It is a beautiful drift of snow

that feathers the earth of me.

A gentle spring breeze

beyond the strength I’ve tried so hard to be.

And I lay me down to feel it all.

I lay me down to feel it all.

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Categories
Poetry

The Sound Of Silence

How lovely it was

to call the darkness an old friend.

The darkness inside,

the darkness outside.

Did they even know it was both

of which they spoke?

A Neon God was made

so beautifully to shine

light

for all the world to see.

And so the world saw.

And so the world changed

for a moment, just one.

And so the world went on

to lose its voice

over

and over again.

To the darkness.

To the never ending lies

that remain hidden

beneath a grand old rock named

fear.

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Categories
Poetry

In Every Lie

There is a soft

quiet

truth

in every lie.

Categories
Poetry

Try A Little

The quiet moments when we see

we’ve been wrong.

They melt the ice of life

into sweet drifts of frost on wind.

I have been wrong

to my own heart,

often without knowing.

I have been wrong,

some days,

some days, it’s true.

Now I float in the mist

of a forgiving heart.

A forgiving heart

to soften the frost,

to sweeten the day around me.

This day.

A try a little, day,

I think.

Categories
Poetry

This Quiet Storm

I am me.

Just me.

Not who you think I am.

Not who you wish I would be.

Just who I am.

This quiet storm.

Me.

Categories
Life

This Quiet Place

I’m feeling a little tender, today.

It’s a lovely feeling, don’t get me wrong. Soft and sweet, like a warm rainy day. It’s a feeling I’ve sat with at various points over the last few years, a new softness that has grown into me like the sweetest of dreams.

It’s just…it’s an aching quiet, actually, is what it is.

A middle land. A place for me to live within the beauty of this moment, a place to also feel the absence of the hearts and souls that bring me to life. How beautiful it is to connect with souls who fill you with life itself. How beautiful it is to love them. If only I could bottle them and keep them with me always.

I’ll never regret a moment of this winding life.

The aches that have held me so firmly in place some days, the internal fights that have cracked me open. The surrender. It’s all a part of it, isn’t it? This life we all try so hard to control— there is no controlling it. Even if we could catch the wind in a jar…how could we possibly know it was in there?

I am handing you this small patch of quiet in the hopes you might pin it to your heart, or your soul, or somewhere nice. That the soft of me might bring you some comfort, or friendship, or whatever it is that might be missing for you in this moment.

To those friends I am missing: I love you. You are a part of me.

To those I will never meet again, it was sweet. (Or not. Just sayin’)

And to the parts of me that are magically brewing in some invisible place, waiting to be seen and known and touched: I am here.

I will wait.

In this quiet place, I will wait.

woman wearing brown shirt inside room
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Categories
Life

A Strange Sort of Beautiful

It’s a strange sort of beautiful, this life.

I’ve followed the breadcrumbs, even the ones I knew would blow up my world. (They blew it up: into a million pieces of possibility. Beautiful possibility, for everyone around me.)

I have been lost. I have been ecstasy.

I have been right when I thought I was wrong, and wrong when I thought I was right.

I have been in love—my goodness, I have been in love—and I have been broken, and I have been dirty, and I have been changed.

This whole life long, I thought I was one thing.

I never have been one thing. I have been a starburst of infinity.

Always.

And now I see her rise, this girl, to this woman inside me— how she soars with the swell of abundant life.

From the ashes, she flies. Out of the haze. At least for today.

There will be new love in this shining place. I’ll see it with my heart, I’ll know it with my soul.

There will be friendship built on truth and depth and eternity.

There will be a roaring spirit, in the place where magic lives.

And there will be you.

Always, there will be you, my friends.

photo of birds flying during daytime
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Categories
Life

Reality. And How There is No Such Thing.

I send a text message to a friend: a message that warms my heart because I’ve said something that fills me with all the lovely things.

In my mind, I see my friend receive the text message. She smiles.

In my mind, we have just shared the most BEAUTIFUL tender moment together.

To me, this is my reality.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it?

I’ve constructed the entire story beyond reality as I truly know it to be.

The reality is that the actual version of events may have gone something like this:

I send message. Smile (all the lovely things, la la la.) My friend receives the message. My friend is emotionally triggered by something I have lovingly communicated in the message. They are not on the same page as I am. Not even one-little-bit.

Oh my goodness. You guys. Do you see what horror I have to put up with in this random little world of mine? How is a dreamy, love-hearty girl like me to deal with such a stern and logical talking to by the invisible powers that reside within? Lessons on how to live in the moment. Lessons on how to tear the dreamy light out of my eyes?

I mean, really, universe.

Shame on you for breaking a girl’s heart.

woman sitting on rock doing heart hand gesture
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