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
Photo by bruce mars on Pexels.com
Advertisements
Life

The B Tree and The Shooting Star

Have I told you about the B tree? The time my intuition asked me to take a seat among a forest full of trees, and there, etched into the tree I’d sat beside was the letter ‘B’?

B for Brooke. In a forest full of trees, have I told you that story?

Have I told you the story of how, about three weeks later, I found myself back in the forest? I’d forgotten all about the B tree. Well, at least I’d forgotten where exactly it was. In that forest full of trees. And yet, there I found myself, once again, sitting beside that very tree. The B tree. Quite a magical accident, wouldn’t you say?

A magical accident that happened twice.

A similar moment of magic happened tonight, and although I shouldn’t be surprised by the wonder the universe continues to gift me, I am. I really truly am. Because how can such magic be, and also be so constantly missed by too many of us, far too often? Because of all the busy things. Because of all the noise.

Tonight there was no noise as I walked. It was twilight. The stars were out and the sky was darkening, but not black. It had been a bit of a sad day for me, as you might imagine— an emotion processing day, and so it seemed a natural thing to get out with my trees and walk it away.

Twice I felt the urge to sit on the patch of grass beside me, and twice I rejected the idea as ridiculous given the darkness arriving on my side of the Earth. That’s when I remembered the B tree.

It had been a very subtle urge that had made me go and sit beside the B tree, a very subtle urge just like this one. Was this the universe calling again? Was this a gentle nudge from the Soft Girl, asking me to melt into the stars for a little while?

I didn’t need to wait for an answer. I just sat. And thank goodness I did: I’d have missed it had I kept walking.

The shooting star.

I’d have missed it racing towards the Earth in a burst so bright it could have been an asteroid or a falling planet. I couldn’t quite believe it (and what that looked like was me blubbering and smiling, looking around wondering if there was anyone there to see it.)

I don’t know how that kind of magic happens, but I seem to be on a journey that’ll take me a little closer to finding out. And if I never do find out where that kind of magic comes from… at least I kept my eyes open long enough to see it.

My goodness. It’s times like these where I think: what a life I will have lived by the end.

silhouette photo of trees during night time
Photo by Miriam Espacio on Pexels.com

 

 

 

Life

Permission to Breathe

For the girl who is miserable:

No. You are not the only one.

two women in swimming pool
Photo by bruce mars on Pexels.com

 

For the boy who is angry:

No. You are not broken.

adult anger art black background
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

For the human that tries so hard to be a version of perfect that doesn’t exist:

I see you.

man person portrait autumn
Photo by Ikowh Babayev on Pexels.com

 

And now that we all know where we stand…

it’s time for us to take one more step.

And breathe.

photo of man wearing gray shirt near sea
Photo by Kripesh adwani on Pexels.com

 

Poetry

A Bright New Day

Moon sat at the edge of the rainbow,

where the dark clouds shone silver in the sky.

‘Rain if you must, dark clouds. I am ready.’

And when the rain came, moon wept

for the day that had come to an end.

‘It’s time,’ Moon said.

‘It’s time for the bright new day to begin.’

back view beach clouds dawn
Photo by Riccardo Bresciani on Pexels.com

 

 

 

Life

Conversations With A Soul

My soul spoke to me today.

It told me a story about the heartaches I choose to hide from.

Hiding is much easier than seeking, wouldn’t you say, on account of all the wrong turns made on the way to finding what you’re looking for. In my case, I am looking for an entire person (me) and so you can see how the effort seems a larger game than your average schoolyard version.

A soul doesn’t lie, is what they say, and I think they might be right about that much.  When my soul spoke to me today, I had no choice but to listen (which is interesting because I am quite able to ignore my brain on demand.)

And so now I’m weary. Weary, but not broken.

Never, ever broken.

See? 🙂 xx