Categories
Life

Freud

I’m about to sit down and snuggle with one of my Christmas presents. It is a book by Sigmund Freud called ‘The Interpretation of Dreams.’ I’d imagine it will hand me another key to my perception of reality, which I’m so looking forward to.

I love that sort of thing. Pondering the universe and the nature of reality. A lovely friend of mine calls me a ‘contemplative mystic’, and I quite like that term, actually, when it comes to the parts of me that like to wonder.

I have been wondering all my life. It’s a beautifully rich way to be, and I know it’s where I truly belong in the world. Swimming the deepest oceans, stirring up the kelp and sand.

When I contemplate, when I analyse people, I tend to analyse them energetically more than anything. Most people likely look at a person and wonder who they are. I look at a person, and tend to know who they are already, to a degree. They feel a certain way to me. Some people feel safe.

Some people feel unsafe.

I tend to think those must have been the ones among us who haven’t had the nicest lives.

I’m a big believer in the theory of a unified field of energy connecting us all. That we are this field. All of us. Energy at the core, connected simply because there is nothing to seperate massive clouds of energy, when you really think about it. Quantum physics, and this unified field theory explains, for instance, why so many of us ‘resonate’ so deeply with the exact same ideas in life.

It’s all really fascinating to me, especially as a creative who feels the energy of my creativity move within my body as I create.

Fascinating. Wondrous. Magic.

Can’t wait to read this. xx

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Categories
Life

Stolen

The internet has stolen my words.

They were here, tied with a little bow, tagged: ‘Brooke’s heart’; now they’re gone, the internet stole them. Snuffed them out, like a candle, with ease.

The internet has been down all day, so I don’t suppose it cares for blogging. I don’t suppose it cares for drafts worth saving.

But then…

Maybe it wasn’t worth saving.

There are no accidents in the universe.

Maybe,

truly,

the stolen words were not at all

worth

saving.

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Categories
Poetry

Energy

Energy speaks

truer

than words.

Categories
Life

Heart Broken

My skin is peeled, once more, and I am flesh on open bone.

Why is it that darkness must be, in order for light to be known?

Why is loss needed to highlight the beauty of having had?

Why is betrayal needed to highlight the beauty of loyalty?

It hurts.

Always, it hurts.

Will it ever stop hurting?

How, says a universe of contrasts, will the world continue to spin without its opposite end?

My skin is peeled like lemon, like sugar sweet.

My skin is peeled for aching humanity.

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Categories
Poetry

A Poet

Of all the labels I reject

a poet’

is the one golden cage

ringing true to my soul.

It holds my heart,

this stamp that tells me-

not who I am,

but what I do in the world

and how these depths consume me.

And though a label

is but a boundary with imaginary walls

in a universe unending,

a poet

I am

in words

and heart.

A poet I am,

I am.

Categories
Poetry

Asking Questions

It is not the darkness

of others

I fear.

It is my own

crimson need

to mould the world

into a shape

that cannot possibly exist,

or remain.

Perfection is rigid,

solid,

stiff.

Life

is the ever flowing river

of everything,

everyone,

every way.

Broken?

Unbroken?

Right?

Wrong?

There is nothing

but life asking questions.

And answering them

as it will.

Categories
Poetry

The Path Of The Righteous

How hard we strive

to maintain the path of the righteous.

And yet

someone, somewhere

aches on the flip side

of right.

So, what is right?

There is only

bitter sweet

existence.

Categories
Poetry

The Sun, The Moon, The Mind

There is no day.

There is the rise and fall of the sun.

There is the opening and closing of eyes.

But there is no day.

Only a rolling eternity

split by the sun

and the moon,

and the mind.

Categories
Life

Time Is An Abstract Concept

I’m a bit of a nerd If you’d like to give that particular invisible stream of ‘me-ness’ a name.

My brain works in weird and wonderful ways (like all of our brains do). Perhaps, though, I glorify the magnificence of the human condition a little more than most— I can admit to that much.

I’ve never really understood why humans aren’t more fascinated by the wonder that is these truly magnificent bodies we’re built into.

How they can break, and heal, as if by magic.

How they can mix ingredients (male and female) to induce a process of growth and birth so miraculous it’s incomprehensible how any human has actually existed, ever.

How the light in my eyes can tell you how in love with you I really am, and how my words do not have to tell you a thing about the way that particular love feels inside of my body.

Anyway, I know:

I’m a bit of a nerd.

But don’t you guys think it is ALL so TRULY AMAZING?

I sure do, and that’s just the human body parts of it all.

I’ve just read a blog post that made me dig a little into the way I feel about all this human-ness at a deeper level, particularly the way I feel about the ‘invisible’ things of life.

Time.

The internet.

Love (or any emotion, really).

It all lives in the sea of nothing and everything, doesn’t it?

Energy. Nothing and everything.

My Dad always used to throw out this line—and laugh at his own hilarity, actually, as I often laugh at my own. I completely blame him. For that, and for my large selection of ‘funny but not really funny’ jokes.

Anyway, the line he used to toss out there was ‘time is an abstract concept.’

At the time (ha ha ha :P) —I was somewhere between eight and thirteen, I’d imagine— I looked at him, eyebrow raised. What on earth was he going on about? Time wasn’t abstract. Time was clearly time.

Part of me agrees still, that time is a very real thing.

There is a clock up there. Today is Saturday.

But is there really ‘time’ because there is a clock up there?

And is it really Saturday, guys?

And am I, indeed, ‘a nerd’? (Wink)

I’ll be back tomorrow with some more waffling, I think.

It’s time for me to ‘move’ somewhere new.

Again. xx

person in black jacket walking on snow covered pathway between trees
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Categories
Life

Something’s Coming

Something is coming

that will make us smile.

It’s easy to forget, isn’t it—

that smiles always come back around again,

even when we think they’re gone for good.

It’s okay to forget.

The universe will always remind us, someway, somehow.

Like now, for instance.

Here we are, remembering together:

Something’s coming.

Something has always been coming.

Hasn’t it?

backlit blur close up dawn
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