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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Poetry

The Song Of You

To be brave is to know there is hope.

And to know there is hope is to know

that dreams can come true—

as long as you remember to dream them.

Wish with all your heart, little girl.

Fly your longing into the sun.

Be only you

for

only you.

It is then that your world will flow as it should.

Be brave, little girl.

Your heart doesn’t beat to be silenced.

Let it beat.

Let it play the song of you.

beautiful blond blur child
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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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Life

It’s Time

It’s time to speak the words I too often hide.

Because, actually, silence can kill.

And words can change the world for the better.

photo of baby on gray wooden board
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It’s time to love my life like I only have one.

Because I do only have one.

Well, that’s what some people think, anyway.

hot air balloons on air
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It’s time to answer the questions that hide within the book of me.

I can’t erase them until I’ve answered them.

And I need more room in that book to write the rest of my life.

woman lying on green grass while holding pencil
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It’s time for me to stop letting the big meanies win all the time.

Because big meanies think that doughnuts are only for eating.

I mean, really. Whoever would think a sensible thing like that?

woman wearing sweater covering her eyes with doughnuts
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Life

Wild Geese: Mary Oliver

A friend gifted me a beautiful copy.

The words were swirly, and letterpressed onto white rippled cardboard, and when I read it—Wild Geese, a poem by Mary Oliver—I just knew there was no one in the world that needed it more than I did.

Fast forward to today: a few months after I met this lovely poem, and it met me. I’d planned another blog post entirely— I’d even written it and was ready to post. But the soft girl said, ‘No.’

The soft girl said, ‘share the poem.’

So, here I am.

Sharing the poem. Why?

Because the soft girl said so.

And if you feel it in your heart the way that I felt it when it first found me…then you’ll know the soft girl meant it for you. xx

***

Wild Geese, By Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting—

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

nature bird water animal
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