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.

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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
Photo by Isabella Mendes on Pexels.com
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
Photo by Tatiana Vavrikova on Pexels.com

 

 

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
Photo by Bondo Arishvili on Pexels.com

 

 

 

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
Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

 

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

Photo by Gabriel Ribeiro on Pexels.com