Life

The Cottage House

I suspect this weekend will be beautiful.

I’m not sure how much you’ll see me here, if at all, my lovely bloggy friends. I’ll be all snuggled up under a blankie with a steaming cup of tea and a book, alone in a lovely little cottage house on a hill, among a thousand trees.

I couldn’t think of a more beautiful way to gain my strength back.

I’m house-sitting for one of my oldest friends: my wonderful bestie from high school. No matter how long we’ve gone without seeing each other, she has remained a constant support to me over the years. Whenever I’ve needed her, she’s been there, never once complaining about my tendency to disappear for vast stretches of this introverted life of mine.

She and her twin sister (another dear friend of mine) were the ones who taught me how to make a real cake at the ripe old age of fourteen. When I realised that all cakes did not actually begin in a packet…my eyes must have widened a mile. I will never forget how we laughed. 

Anyhow, that’s where I’ll be this weekend. Looking after two cats, a bunny rabbit, and four teeny tiny newborn bunnies. What bliss.

All the Friday love hearts, my merry bloggy friends. May this day bring you ALL the awesome things.

wooden house
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Spiritual Awakening

Changes

I took another sneaky day away from here, yesterday. I was busy ‘processing’ some soul questions and spilling the watery leftovers out my eyes. It’s an ugly blubbering kind of thing that happens when I cry, although I like my Step Dad’s version better. Once upon a time, he turned to my eighteen-year-old watery blues and said with a gentle, funny-man smile: ‘Hey, it’s not that bad. At least you look beautiful when you cry.’ (Ha ha ha. Sigh. My goodness I love that man.)

I want to talk a little bit about this thing that’s happening to me because, in truth, it’s the most profound thing to have ever happened in the world relative to me. I’m only in communication with one other person who has experienced this sort of drastic life transformation, too, (a beautiful friend of my Mum’s) so it’s been quite a lonely and frightening thing to go through, in some ways.

For close to a year, I have been going back and forth between two parts of me, trying desperately to merge these two very different aspects of myself into one whole human. Often times, this transition has felt like two different versions of me (my goodness I wish I could draw you a diagram) fighting it out to take control of who I am and where my life is going to next.

For most of my life, the rational side of me has taken centre stage. It has been the maker and keeper of rules, the iron-fisted disciplinarian that has made sense of the world around me in a very orderly manner. It has kept me safe. Then there’s the spiritual side of me, who I lost contact with some time after I became a ‘mature adult,’ and only now has she returned now that my heart has fully opened for business again. Oh boy, has she shaken things up.

The rational side of me—the order keeper that anchors me into reality—has had a bit to say about the arrival of her spiritual counterpart. She’s not all that keen to see what the new girl has to say, and I don’t blame her either. Among other things, this new spiritual opening has brought a level of sensitivity into my world which has opened up all sorts of weird and wonderful doors: a connection to nature that defies human comprehension would be one of those odd things the new girl has tossed onto the gameboard. (I’ll try and do a separate post on that connection, one day. It’s very hard to explain the lovely feelings that sometimes flow through me when I connect with the earth.)

So yes, while these two are battling it out, there have been some bumps in the road which have caused some tears— but actually, that’s where you guys are really helping me. You’ve given me a beautiful channel to move my newly resurrected creative energy through, and you’ve also given me some pretty wonderful shoulders to cry on along the way. That’s why I love blogging. The human connection. It’s not me against the world, it’s all of us together, sharing the good, the bad and the ugly of life.

I love that. I really do love that.

bench chair friends friendship
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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?

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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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Life

A Day In The Life

I’ll be asleep soon.

It’s 6:00 pm, and I’m fairly certain of it— tonight will be an 8:30 kind of night.

My goodness, it’s been a full twenty-four hours. My body is fighting a chest infection/cold and yet I’ve continued to move through life, sucking in just about every form of stimulation the universe has had to offer. However tiring, it’s been all sorts of lovely.

I spent a great deal of the day with one of my most precious friends, one of the few people in my life that I consider to be a ‘soul mate’ (and I’m sure I don’t need to explain the criteria needed to make this particular category of friends. It’s something your heart just knows, wouldn’t you say?)

Anyway, midway through my corn fritter, whilst trying desperately not to cough into the sugar bowl, it occurred to me just how much my homebody ways limit me from experiencing life’s good stuff. Like friends. Like coffee. Like coffee. ( I’m sorry, had I mentioned coffee, already?)

I’m an alone person, that much will never change. But today the universe reminded me that even alone people need someone else.

Bonus points for those of the ‘soul mate’ kind.

orange tabby cat beside fawn short coated puppy
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Life

Naked With Friends

Once upon a youthful eve, when my porcelain skin had only seen twenty-one summers, naked with friends happened. Innocent naked. Not at all sexual, naked (let’s be clear on that right away.)

I’ll never forget the naked of that night, all of us huddled in a combi van on a deserted beach, drunk on Sambuca; passing around stories and laughter, gulping down slightly awkward lungfuls of seaside air.

That night, our skin shone apricot under the moon. We were free. What we were doing was special, we all agreed. And when we did, we promised—we promised—we’d do it again when we were ninety (only God knows why we made such an outlandish long term commitment, but such is the beauty of youth, wouldn’t you say?)

Naked with friends found me again today, and no one could have been more alarmed than me that it was back again. It was 11:00am, and the only beverage I’d consumed since I woke was a large carry mug of coffee, which I downed as I drove to meet my friend at the Japanese hot baths in Collingwood.

This particular friend was my best friend from high school, the one who taught me it was actually possible to make a cake without ‘packet mix’ (cough: don’t judge). She’d seen me laugh. She’d seen me cry. She’d seen me get married, and watched me go from ‘teen’ to ‘adult’ to ‘Mum’.

She had never seen me naked.

I admit to wondering how the awkward of that might go, given I would be sober, and given I really only get my naked out if I’m absolutely in love with someone (or in a van with them getting drunk, apparently). And though I do love this beautiful friend of mine…naked wasn’t in my plan for us.

Until it was.

The old me would have run for the hills at the mention of nude bathing (no really, the actual Sound of Music hills) but since I became a Mum, and even more so since I found the soft girl wandering around in the quiet corners of me… I’m not so afraid of naked anymore.

Today I was naked with friends for the second time in my life. My body was naked, but my heart and my soul were naked, too, and perhaps that was the most beautiful part.

Because when do we ever get the chance to let the wildling within do exactly what it wants to do, without judgment, without limits? More than twice, for me, I hope.

naked woman sitting beside blue wall

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A Blog a Day in May

May

It was May when it happened. The change in me, the one that planted little wing sprouts in my shoulders and dared me to fly into the sun. It was last May, do you remember it? The darling blog of May? A blog a day, in May.

I remember it all too clearly. Burying myself and the laptop in the bedroom, writing about the moments that whispered me into the darling of it all. I found myself, in that place. In that darling little town called May.

But.

When I found myself— when I rediscovered that deeper place within me—I stalled. And I’ve been stalling ever since, stalling among a sea of magic (and I’m not kidding about the magic; among other unexplainable things, I am somehow able to see the frequency waves that border my bathroom doorframe. No idea how or why— ALL the magical unicorn eyes, I suppose. Of course, one of my dearest friends has informed me it’s very likely a special form of epilepsy with my name on it, which, granted, could also be true.)

In the past year, I’ve both found and lost vast pieces of my life. I’ve discovered, and have been hovering over, the next steps of this very magical life of mine…but I have no idea where it’s all going to go from here.

So that’s why I’m doing it again.

A blog a day in May.

Another chance to set the wheel in motion and follow the breadcrumbs of life to someplace new, and guess what? You’re coming with me. You. My friends. My fellow joyfully broken humans. We’re all in this together, so I say let’s huddle and see what we can find in this little bloggy land of ours.

As always, with these funny little months of mine, I’ll do my best to come up with new ways to share my heart and make you all smile. But this time I’ll be doing things a little differently. I’ll be removing the pressure from myself entirely and saying: whatever will be, will be. Some days— as has quite often happened in the past— the tank very well may be running on empty. On those days, I’ll ask you to be patient and smile, and look forward to the next round of possibilities, if you’ll be so kind.

There’ll be no rules, this May.

No themes.

No set ideas.

Just me. You. And our humanity. The path of life and all the wishy-washy wonder that arises to share. I might share the day. I might share a deep insight. I might share a photo, a joke, a tear.

I might share just about anything. And It’ll all start on the first day of May.

Gosh, I hope you’ll meet me there.

All the love hearts,

Brooke. xxx

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Life

The Power of a Moment

I’ll never underestimate the power of a moment.

In my world, a moment is never just a moment.

A moment is a marvel.

A step before a jump.

A promise of something new and wonderful to keep—

If I choose to keep it, that is.

adult backpack blur business
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A moment— in my world— is a time to begin again.

A chance to let ‘no’ become ‘yes’.

A chance to let ‘yes’ become ‘hells to the absolute no’.

You know them, don’t you? Moments?

The split seconds of life that we can choose to take, or leave?

The gifts that give as much as we ask them to, depending on how open we are to receiving them?

I do love a good moment.

I do love a good bit of marvelous and new.

woman in gray cardigan giving white gift box
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Life

Let Them Be

I do this thing

where I try to ‘fix’ the people I love.

When they are sad.

When they are confused.

When they are in pain.

I do this

because when the people who feel like ‘joy’ to me

suddenly feel like something else—

I also feel like something else.

I feel like their shadow.

And I feel like mine, too.

anchor couple fingers friends
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How deeply I love.

How deeply I am touched

by the vulnerable spirits of others,

especially my very best others—

The people who fit perfectly with the essence of me.

silhouette photo of male and female under palm trees
Photo by Ibrahim Asad on Pexels.com

But now it’s time for me to let them be.

It’s time for me to stand back and say:

‘I love you. I am here if you need.’

It’s not my place to fix them.

It’s only my place to send them love hearts through the sky.

And know that because I have been there, I have been enough.

woman sitting while showing heart sign hands
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Twelve Days of Christmas

Couch Chat

On the seventh day of Christmas

the sun came

and then it went.

In between the coming and going of the sun

lots of love happened.

Lots of smiles.

A couple of sad thoughts.

Hardly any cranky ones— hells yes. (Don’t ya love those days?)

So…yeah.

Life happened and it was really pretty great.

The thing is—

I’m so super snoozy. (Sleepy sigh smile.)

So super snoozy I can’t think of anything overly brilliant to write.

Tomorrow will be better.

Tomorrow I’ll write something AMAZING. (She says, grinning at the cheek she hopes she’ll be forgiven for)

Night night, gang.

You guys are awesome.

Thanks for popping by for a bit of a couch chat.

xx Brooke (Couch chat legend from way back.)

photo of dog sitting on couch
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