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

When A Butterfly Takes Flight

It’s the broken heart of my life.

When the soft girl found me, she brought me the most beautiful things. She helped me to feel the trees, and sing with them into the sun. She helped me to turn my most beautiful aches into words— words that so often break my heart and mend my soul: the very thing my words were always meant to do.

But the soft girl has taken so many things from me, also.

And one of those things is my beautiful husband: the most loyal and beautiful friend I’ve ever known.

He is, and always will be, one of my most precious people (and I have a feeling that I will always be one of his.) But over time it became very obvious that our puzzle pieces just weren’t fitting together anymore, and we’ve finally come to admit the truth of that. To ourselves. And to each other. It’s been a bit of a tough time for both of us, needless to say.

At the moment, I’m still processing things emotionally, but as usual this place and the beautiful friends I’ve found here remain the superglue that holds me together— I will always be so grateful to you guys for that. (I’m getting a bit love-hearty again, aren’t I, guys? Lol. You know I’ll never stop.)

What I’m trying to say is: life is a little hard for me at the moment, but I’ll be okay. I’ve got my trees. I’ve got my music. I’ve got my two precious little people, and the promise of a brighter version of the Mum they already know.

And last but not least…I’ve got you. And you’ve got me. And because you’ve got me, you’ve got all the dreamy love hearts, always and forever.

Because that’s just the way this soft girl of mine rolls.

crop field under rainbow and cloudy skies at dayime
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Life

July Energy And Doughnuts

Who even knows what is going on with this July energy, but if you are diving deep into the guts of you, or kind of feeling a little bit like there is a thick layer of mud painted onto your skin, too…that would probably be because—drum roll— July-kind-of-sucks. Just today alone I have failed to even start anything I’ve set out to do, to the point where the day will be gone soon and I will still be wondering when it is going to start. (Disclaimer: this could also just be a ‘me’ thing, but I’m going to say it’s an everyone thing. It feels like it’s probably an everyone thing.)

Guys. I’m just here to say that it’s totally okay to eat all the doughnuts if July is, in fact, having its way with you, too. Go on— the sugary ones with jam inside are particularly awesome, as long as you don’t heat them up to the point of tongue burning. (Omg. Ouch.)

That reminds me of a fun story, and I reckon I need to tell it…if only to lighten us all up a bit. 🙂

It was when I was about eight, I’d say. I was an only child at this point, and my wonderful, fun-guy Step-Dad had taken me to Lunar Park (an amusement park) where we were plonked on a picnic bench, gobbling up hot jam doughnuts.

Everything was going well until he dropped the sugar bomb:

‘Right. Here’s a challenge. I dare you to eat an entire doughnut without licking the sugar off your lips.’

I could have died.

The way the story ended is kind of vague to me now. I’m pretty sure it ended with me meeting his challenge successfully but coming to the conclusion that, because of the amount of concentration needed to keep me from licking my lips…I didn’t enjoy the doughnut one little bit.

So, essentially, I won.

But I also lost. So mega big time.

And that was the day I realised I will never say no to that kind of sugary goodness ever again.

Happy July-ing, everyone. And happy weekend, too. xx

donuts doughnuts food foodporn
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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

What Is Love

As Moon sat upon her hill, waiting for the tide to rise, she whispered to Sun, “Sun? What is love?”

Moon wasn’t expecting an answer. She only wanted to ask the question, because if she asked, the possibility of receiving an answer that thrilled her could exist— a question never asked, is, after all, a question never answered.

And as Moon sat upon her hill, trying to understand the question for herself, Sun’s words fell upon her like the sweetest touch of spring.

Love is whatever it is. And that, dear Moon, is the only answer I know to give you.”

backlit beach clouds dawn
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Spiritual Awakening

The Epiphany

I had an epiphany yesterday, at a time where my skin was particularly susceptible to the energy of human beings that were not me. We were out as a family, enjoying the humming vibe of a dumpling festival (nom, nom, nom) and it struck me that I was running on supercharge.

As I looked around me, each person seemed so clear, alive and vulnerable. It was as if I were seeing them through a more sensitive, vibrant lense of the reality that most people know. Certainly a more sensitive lense than I have known for many years. It was, in the words of my precious little five-year-old: ‘Blow minding.’

As I stood in line at the dumpling truck—joyously waving at my husband and two little muffins, whose faces shone back at me like the brightest lights in the world— I realised that this was the way I used to live in the world, before I started living on adult autopilot. And I wondered…what on earth happened? Where did my authentic self go during all of those autopilot years, and how did my heart and soul dim quite as drastically as they did?

The epiphany that came to me as I stood in line, deciding between the Steak and cracked pepper dim-sims or the plain old beef was…I had to forget my true nature so that I could tell the difference between a life half lived, and a life lived as it authentically should be lived.

For instance…over the past ten years, I’ve had no idea that I was only half living (as in, I had no idea I was suppressing my authentic emotional self, in any way.) I was happy. I was writing and genuinely enjoying family life. I thought I was being me. Until last year, when my heart suddenly burst open again, and oh my goodness, I remember you! happened.

Yesterday’s epiphany had me wondering: if I forgot my true nature for so many years…how many others have forgotten theirs, too? How many others have ever even wondered: is this me? And is this as much of my life that I want to live?

Anyway, that’s gotten quite deep, so I’ll leave it there for today. But feel free to share in the comments if you’ve experienced a similar re-awakening in your life, because I really do think the more of us who speak up about these things…the easier it will get for the sleepy heads of tomorrow to wake up again, too. Well, I sure hope so, anyway. xx

person covering woman with blanket
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Life

Black Cats and Dress Ups

I’ve just been to my little boy’s kinder disco, dressed as a cat. A black one, with some white bits included (because black and white cats are just a little bit less evil than pure black cats, wouldn’t you say?)

We advertised it as a dress-up disco, which of course would mean that upon arrival there’d be a sea of adorable little muffins dressed as Disney Princesses, Queen Elsa’s, Spidermen and all the rest of the Marvel universe— and indeed this was the case. ALL the adorable little people.

ALL the adorable escapism.

And then there were the adults. All very there for their children, and all very kind and lovely and ready to chat. But all very dressed as… Mum and Dad. I was the only one dressed as a cat (meow, by the way, thanks for asking.) And apart from the entire fundraising team, who made the effort to dress up AND run the whole thing like absolute champions…none of the other adults were brave enough to come in costume. ALL the sad faces.

I really do feel so sad about that. Not because we were the only ones dressed up and we looked silly or anything, nothing at all like that. The actual reason for my disappointment is that we’ve broken each other, us adult humans. We’ve judged too much. We’ve labelled too much. And by the time we reach adulthood, the general rule is that we are sensible and that we obey the rules of what it means to be a mature adult.

Bugger-that.

I won’t be silent on this issue any longer, guys. I just can’t—because it makes me way too cranky to think of how much we limit ourselves because of how others might disapprove. I’m going to make a vast call and say that beneath the sensible of most adults lies an authentic human being who is screaming to have just a little more fun than this. 

If you are like me, I’m sure you’ve felt this kind of pain before, and If you are like me…then let this be our war cry. Let’s choose not to care about judgment. Let’s show the ones who are a little afraid, that it’s okay to be exactly who they are.

Please don’t misunderstand me on this. I am absolutely sure that some adults really just do-not-care to dress up, and do not actually want to let the inner child off the leash. I have no judgment at all toward these people— this is them, expressing their authentic selves, and no one could ever ask more of them than that.

It’s the rest of us I’m talking about. Those of us who receive the invite to the dress up party and instantly see ourselves dressed as a Minion.

Seriously.

Let’s do this, guys. Let’s take our power back and let’s be the Minion!

Come on.

You know you want to 😛

boston terrier wearing unicorn pet costume
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Life

The Puzzle

I believe the world is a puzzle, and we are the pieces.

All of us.

The trees.

The rivers.

You.

Me.

These guys. (Awwwww. xxx)

close up photo of a hand holding three white kittens
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But no, I mean really. That’s what I believe.

We’re a puzzle.

And though we don’t often tend to think of it…

we all have our own special reason,

our own unique connector points

to make the world exactly the way it’s meant to be.

person holding save our planet sign
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Maybe it’s time to be brave, and ask out loud:

What does my puzzle piece look like when it’s home?

What makes it bop, and zing, and burst with yes!

Most of us have at least some of the answers figured out.

Just maybe not all of them, quite yet.

Because, actually, we’ll always be still learning, right?

light sunset people water
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We are all unique.

And if we really are a puzzle (which I truly think we are, by the way)

we need to be our uniqueness.

Otherwise, we won’t fit.

And if we don’t fit—

The puzzle will start to look a bit like…umm, yeah.

(Never mind. We’ve still got this, guys.)

red and three blue jigsaw puzzles
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We all have a yearning inside of us

that tells us, quite firmly, where and how we belong

in the puzzle of us.

And yet many of us deny we can hear it,

for fear of being judged by the people who deny the puzzle exists.

(Those people, I suspect, keep their eyes closed for a reason.)

active ash cloud ashes blaze
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This is the start; I can feel it in all of my bones.

I don’t know where my connector points are.

I don’t know how to slot myself comfortably into place.

But I also know that doesn’t matter, for now.

The main thing is…I know about the puzzle.

And knowing about the puzzle has shown me

that we are all on our way to something good.

man building architect joy
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