Even the most darling rose
is a work in progress.
Be the rose.
How beautiful
that she will show you the way
to freedom.
Tag: Wisdom
Categories
Moon Unconditional
‘Sun?’
‘Yes, Moon?’ said Sun as he fell into the evening sky.
‘I shine every night. I brighten the humans’ world. Why do they not love me?’
‘Moon?’
‘Yes, Sun?’
‘You have a chip in your tooth.’
‘Do I?! Oh, no! Maybe that’s why!’
‘Moon?’
‘Yes, Sun?’
‘It’s a tooth.’
‘I know. And I don’t want a broken one.’
‘But you have a broken one.’
‘Sun! You are not hearing what I am saying! The humans don’t love me and I don’t want a broken tooth.’ Moon stormed around the sky, looking for her lost boot.
‘Moon? I love you. And you have a broken tooth. Not but, and. Did you hear me? And you have a broken tooth.’
‘Sun. I have no idea what you’re on about,’ said Moon, putting her found boot on and keying in her crescent shine coordinates.
‘I know, Moon, I know. You’ll understand one day.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You will.’
And with that, Moon said goodbye and shone unconditionally for the humans below.
Beautiful are the moments
where I remember
you are you,
and I am me.
Perfectly.
Beautiful are the mornings
the sun shines on cobwebby thoughts
and there I see the glimmer of truth.
How beautiful you are.
How beautiful I am.
How beautiful.
To know that different
is not another word for wrong.
I’ve come to realise that creativity is just the art and flow of being yourself. There’s really not a lot more to it than that.
At its core, creativity seems to be made of the absolute depth of who we are. And the depth of who we are is always waiting, somewhere beneath the surface, to be shared in its most resonant form. (I believe this is true for every human being. Not just those who are considered creative types.)
For me, the purest form my creativity takes is music. My voice, in particular, seems an extension of the calming, soothing essence that naturally seems to spill from the deep, internal parts of me…and so my music always does seem to reappear in my life, no matter how far I stray from it.
For a lot of years I judged myself (my voice, my performance capabilities) based on what others were doing with their own musical talents. Somewhere in my teen years I grabbed a hold of the idea that, although my talent was constantly being validated, I didn’t have a voice that could compare to a real singer. According to young human me, real singers had a range that reached far beyond the heights that my limited range could. Real singers were perfect, never to stray a note in pitch at all.
How sweet it is to have found the most beautiful new gift of evolved perspective when it comes to my music: that being…my music is my essence. Unique and beautiful, and only mine, never to be compared to any other. My voice and my music are here to achieve their own purpose. And this purpose has nothing to do with an out of this world range or perfectly crafted technique.
There may be singers who use a wider range of skills to express their musical essence in order to thrill…but to thrill is not what I am here for. I am here to express the depths of my heart. I am here to heal with my voice and perhaps to bring peace, calm and emotion to those who connect with my music, writing and creativity. How beautiful, to finally come to know this of myself.
And so I continue to release my musical essence as it is.
No more excuses.
No more foolish voice within trying to compare my musical self with others.
They are all beautiful fruits to be savoured and cherished in the fruit bowl of musical life. I am a different fruit, who finally understands that apples and oranges never will compare.
Categories
Choosing Better
The darkness of life is a wonderful teacher.
I’ve been there a time or two,
and now I say, ‘no’.
Lovingly,
with fire and ice,
I say no.
No, thank you.
No. Thank you,
no more.
Such a lovely relief,
the roaring breath of certainty.
The trust of a self who deserves better
than they have given.
My worth is here to stay.
My love is mine to give,
not theirs to take, and take
and take.
Let others play in the dark rooms of maddening life.
Let this girl fly,
a darling wonder,
into the sun beyond it all.
Safe.
Loved.
And perfectly capable of asking for love,
respect
and home.
Home.
How beautiful it feels
to finally tell them I am home.
Categories
Life, Ever Fragile
The fragility of life can be truly shocking.
There’s a beautiful line from a Sarah Barellies song called, ‘She used to be mine’.
It goes like this:
Sometimes life just slips in through the back door, and carves out a person, and makes you believe it’s all true.
It makes me think of how funny we all are. How we travel along believing we’re very much in control until suddenly we realise…we never were in control. Not ever. At all.
Perhaps we maintain the beautiful illusion of control, quite well, but ultimately when life steps in and presents its aching quiet…all we can do is look at it peacefully and understand: this is.
Life, ever fragile.
Always beautiful.
In fact, it’s the darkness that shows us what light is.
It is our fragility that shows us our strength.
It is our failures that show us the right way forward.
And it is anger, fear, hate that shows us how deeply beautiful surrender is.
How deeply beautiful love is.
Life frightens me, sometimes, but peace is the shining puddle I look for beneath every rainy day.
I feel it, now.
I feel it, now.
Sending sooooo much love, however life may be swaying you, lovely bloggy friends.
Always, so much love, from me.
xx
But if you only have eyes
for the way you think life
should
be,
then surely you are forgetting
to live.
To truly live.
As you are.
In this moment, this
version of life that you
so desperately wish
to escape.
Categories
The Next Step
I have spent so much time
searching for the next step,
and yet
the next step
has always been taken.
With no need to search.
Categories
I Am Loved
There you are
behind a soft, uncertain smile,
surprised that you are loved.
You are loved.
It is your expectation
that has made it seem not so.
You see the world and ask it to hold you
as you wish to be held,
and yet this is not the way life works.
Life will hold you as it holds you
so that you may learn
and grow
and be.
Love is born in the quiet room
between expectation and reality.
Hold yourself in your quiet
and you will finally say:
I am loved.
I am loved.
Categories
Perfect Mirrors
Sun and Moon sat beneath the willow tree, a picnic for two: a beautiful picture of one. Moon shining white on the river. Sun splaying gold on the rippling blue.
‘I miss you, Moon,’ said Sun, as he sipped tea and watched a fish flip into the glistening air above the river.
‘But I’m right here, Sun,’ smiled Moon, ‘And I’m always always in your heart.’
‘Well, why do I miss you, then? When you’re gone, why do I miss you so damn much?’
‘You don’t miss me, Sun. You miss you.’
‘Now you’re just being silly,’ said Sun as he tossed a rock into the river with a plump old splash.
‘It’s true,’ Moon smiled the glorious smile of all the world. ‘Have you not noticed, Sun, that when we laugh together you laugh just as much at yourself as you do me?’
‘Umm, I’ve not quite thought of it that way.’
‘And have you thought that maybe your love for me, is actually here to show you what your love for you looks like?
‘Moon?’
‘Yes, Sun?’
‘I love me an awful lot, don’t I?’
‘Yes Sun, you do,’ Sun and his sweet silence fell around her like the warmest hug.
Best friends, perfect mirrors.
There to help each other light the world.
brooke-cutler.com 