Life

When Life Hits The Fan: Eat Chocolate

I may or may not be sitting here on my couch, eating chocolate. And when I say I may or may not be…what I actually mean to say is: I am.

I will warn you right now: this is one of those random posts about nothing that I sometimes sprinkle the pages of this blog with, the ones where you guys sit there and go, ‘Well how about that. She is just about one of the most random human beings that ever there was.’

I can understand your confusion. You never do know which version of me you’re going to get on here— the poet, the writer, the philosopher, the Soft Girl, the complete and utter dork. I’d probably file this one under the complete and utter dork category. I don’t see this one going literary on you, and I don’t see the words that lie upon this page changing the world in any sort of grand way.

I can promise you one thing, though. The words on this page are me, and I think that’s the beautiful thing about blogging. The sharing of one’s soul with a world of strangers who are, just by virtue of us deciding it, actual friends. And lovely, loyal friends at that.

I’m tired— exhausted actually, from a huge day of organising the newness of my life as a single Mum. No one goes into a marriage thinking they are going to end up divorced, do they? And so when it happens to…well, happen…it’s all the emotional, exhausting things. I have a stress rash on each cheek (on my face, omg, guys. Srsly. 😛 ) I have two eyes that are close to closing for the night (it’s 9:00pm). And I have three parts of a broken heart. A heart that I will rebuild with a new joy, a new life, a new way— but one that’s still a bit squished flat, right at the minute.

But I will get through this like an absolute trooper, I can guarantee you that. Sure, I will cry all the millions of ugly tears in between now and when the good stuff begins again, but the end goal will be a beautiful world that I build with my precious muffins. That is such an exciting prospect.

As an empath (and ‘bit of a sensitive muffin) I’ve always needed time alone to recharge and create. It’s safe to say, I’ll have plenty of that now that I’ll be alone again. I was only just thinking of it earlier, after a conversation I had with my Dad on the weekend: I’ve always sought to hide away from the real world. Even as a young child, I would play alone in my room for hours on end, talking to the mirror, playing with dolls, singing into toilet rolls. It is the natural state of me, and as much as I have loved the gift of my husband and best friend of all these years…I will very much appreciate the gift of returning home.

Well. She couldn’t resist going deep in the end, could she, hey guys. Lol. You all knew it would happen, don’t pretend you didn’t. Okay, well. It’s sleepy byes time. I hope wherever you are in the world, you are safe and happy inside of your shell.

Lots of love, Brooke. xx

black ceramic mug on round white and beige coaster on white textile beside book
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Life

Emerging From The Black Hole

It appears that I’m back from the black hole of everybody get the hell away from me, I’m having an actual meltdown. Thank goodness for that, too, because it kind of sucked being in mega cranky land for all those days of black. It felt a little like I was in a dark room and couldn’t see a thing.

Stress is such a bugger, isn’t it? It has a way of stopping a person in their tracks, just as things seem to be getting better. I have a couple of interesting (cough: just plain odd) ways of looking at stress and the way it sits energetically in my system, so I thought while it’s on my mind—while I’m so fresh from this black hole—I might share them with you guys.

I suppose it’s all linked to that dark room I referred to earlier. Stress makes it hard to see clearly what is in front of me, and, if I’m going through a bit of a tough time and my energy system is already overloaded with all the painful nonsense…there really is no room for any of the good stuff to move on in.

Late last week, the beautiful counsellor I’d been seeing asked me where I see my life heading over the next little while, and I honestly could not answer her. So I put my predicament to her in woo-woo terms.

‘I’m having a vision of a brick wall,’ I said to her. ‘I know there is something behind this wall, but I can’t see what it is yet because there are too many blocks of stress that make up the wall. In this vision, I’m seeing myself taking down one brick at a time, and as I do, slowly the thing behind the wall (my future) is becoming clear.’ I really liked that idea of a wall of stress being made up of the individual stresses I am currently facing, because it made me see that if I pick off just one brick at a time, I will end up with a clearer picture in the end.

The other way I’ve been dealing with stress, lately— now that I can’t help but think of things in terms of energy— is by visualising the stress in my body as black smoke. It seems to me that the more stress (energetic bombardment) I have in my life, the thicker that cloud of muddy black in and around me is likely to be. Who could possibly see clearly through such a dense fog of black? Not me, that’s for shiz.

When I’m trying to clear my own energy of all the icky stuff, I’ll often visualise a trail of black smoke leaving my body as I breathe deeply, and I’ll keep visualising that very same image until all the black is gone.

This was how I got the Soft Girl to come back to me the other day. I sat on the grass and did all the breathing, getting rid of all the black energetic smoke, and voila! A few hours later, there she was. My beloved Soft Girl. Interestingly, my physical body also felt lighter once all the black stuff was gone, too— and that makes me feel as though there really is something to the saying: ‘stress is weighing me down.’

Anyhow, that’s all very woo woo, I know, but there’s no denying the clarity I feel after a good meditation session where I take enough time to rid myself of the energetic black stuff that makes up my stress blocks. Even though it’s kind of an odd way of looking at things, I thought it might be nice to share with those of you who are open to alternative methods of stress relief.

board game business challenge chess
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Life

Return Of The Soft Girl

The Soft Girl returned for a few moments, yesterday.

My soul. My essence. My flow.

She found me in the car as I drove home from a busy day of moving from one house to another.

She wasn’t with me when I turned on the ignition.

She wasn’t with me when I turned the corner from one street to the next.

But she found me.

She found me through the music that waved in the air around us.

The Soft Girl.

How she drifted in and out of me.

How I long for her soft touch in all of my days.

photo of a woman at sunset
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Life

Peace In The Sky

Sun looked at Moon and smiled.

‘Look, Moon, here is your story,’ Sun said, as he held up a shine much like his own bright golden rays.

Moon frowned, and drifted into the space where Sun held the golden droplet.

‘No, Sun. What you are showing me is not my story.’

And then she kissed his blazing cheek, and said to him this:

‘My story, Sun, is invisible to all but me. Others may think they see, but they do not. Because, Sun? No one has eyes that can reach inside of another.’

And as the two friends sat side by side, shining their own stories onto the world…each was at peace knowing they would never truly see the other.

Life

Healing Through Dreams

The universe is such a clever muffin. I really shouldn’t downplay its genius by using words that soften my stance such as ‘clever’ and ‘muffin’, should I? I should be using solid words. Power words. Words like: ‘The universe is such a brute force,’ or something like that anyway.

It’s 2:21 am. You may need to forgive me a clunky sentence or two, but I’ve just been woken by the internal ramblings of a girl in crisis (cough: me) and that seems to be the perfect entry point for me to begin my blogging journey once again.

I say I’m in crisis because it really does feel to me like my life is a little like a china shop that’s been trampled by a team of angry bulls, but don’t let that worry you too much. Broken china scattered all about the place is about a million times more beautiful in my eyes, and so it is that the girl half-full enters the china shop to put you all at ease. I am not entirely okay. But I will be more than okay one day in the not too distant future. So there is that lovely thing to think about, isn’t there.

Having my china scattered all about the place has allowed me to see it in parts, and my goodness—what a shock it has been to find some of these parts. What a shock it has been to have realised that this entire time…I have had a choice. A choice to look out for my own needs above others. A choice to avoid overthinking and worrying. A choice to be okay with not being okay. A choice to say, ‘actually, I’m not okay with that. Perhaps we might consider doing it my way, instead.’

This post has been triggered by a dream. I’m well aware that there are many people out there who believe that dreams are just random, but my dreams have transformed my life in too many ways now for me to dismiss them as nonsense. Yes, some do seem to be random. But others, such as the one I’ve just woken from, are, without any doubt in my mind, meant to be seen, felt and healed.

Looking back over the years at some of the more traumatic dreams I’ve woken from, I can see exactly the lessons I should have received from them, had I actually paid attention and respected the power of the human psyche for what it is. Miraculous intelligence. We are fascinating creatures, guys. I mean, really, we are. We’re so brilliantly complex and amazing—isn’t it time we started to respect the power we all hold within ourselves?

The universe is a brute force. It will not stop until its messages have been received and processed, and so it is that I sit upon my bed in the early hours writing these words for you all to read. Now. Time to sleep. My goodness, I’ll be a little bit sleepy tomorrow then, won’t I?

photo of a woman sitting backwards on a metal chair leaning on her arm sleeping
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Life

A Little Time Away

My dear bloggy friends,

I’ve been thinking on a more practical level (which, let me tell you, is highly unusual in the world of this cloud bouncing dreamer) and my thoughts have led me to a little bloggy holiday.

I’m questioning the sanity of this decision, given the lovely distraction this place gives me from all the yucky things of life, but I do think that even just a few days away might be nice. I’ve been blogging almost every day, for quite some time now. A little bloggy holiday might be quite a lovely thing, now that I really think about it.

Obviously, a lot of emotional processing is happening for me at the moment and, although I don’t necessarily feel I need to take a break from blogging…I figured it certainly wouldn’t hurt to take some days off from this little bloggy land of mine.

Things need to move in my world, and over the next few months, I’ll be slowly making some decisions in order to move them. The practical reality of a newly separated Mum of two little muffins hangs over me like a giant hand reaching from the sky, ready to squash me flat. In other words: I need to earn some money soon, or things are going to go from bad, to worse, to really terribly horrible. I’d like to avoid any sort of bug-on-windscreen action, If I can get away with it.

As much as I adore this beautiful bloggy land (and certainly don’t plan on saying goodbye to it anytime soon) my focus needs to shift to more practical matters, and the first of those is…how to turn the skills I have into the job of my dreams. I’m a writer. Right? I could write. But then what will I write about, and who will pay me for what I write, especially if I’ve given no thought to the words I have to share. There are many avenues I could begin to peer down, career-wise, and after I’ve wrapped my head around the emotional upheaval my beautiful little family is facing at this time— it’ll be time for this love-hearty dreamer to get busy.

A bit of time away from here won’t get me a job, or an instantly love-hearty life, but it will free up a little bit of energetic space, which I can then use to get a bit clearer on things. I’m so excited about the possibilities!

So! I’ll see you guys in…I’m not really sure how long actually, guys! It could be a few days, it could be a week that turns into two, I’m just not sure. But what I do know is that the time away will not be wasted. Life is too precious to be wasted on less than wonderful.

It’s time, now, for me to get clear on exactly what my kind of wonderful looks like.

And then make it happen.

apple magic mouse and white ceramic mug
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Life

Words

Words roll in and out of me like breath.

I can’t imagine not reading and writing, just as I can’t imagine what it might be like never to breathe again.

Sometimes the words I write make no sense to me, or to anyone else that reads them. I don’t think that matters, now that I really think about it—no one understands the meaning of each individual breath they take. Well, at least, I don’t think they do…but I’m a big believer that anything is possible, and so I’m happy to keep an open mind on that one.

Words are the mirror that helps me see my life, and as I send my words into the world I offer that mirror to you so that you might see your life in relation to my own. I think that’s one of the gifts of books and reading the words of others: the opportunity to understand aspects of our lives, through the lives of others.

Through my own words, I see and feel my world.

Through the words of others…I see and feel my world from a different angle.

As simple as it is, I believe that humans and our words are the real magic of life.

I choose never to take that shared loveliness for granted.

woman reading a book
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