A Blog a Day in May

The Soft Girl Again

The soft girl spoke to me again.

She was quick, as usual, so quick I almost didn’t notice she’d come. But I caught her. Yes! And when I did, she spoke to me in moving pictures and silhouettes: a projected future scene, playing like a movie on the blank screen of my mind.

When her ‘flash’ of advice came I was on the couch, hugging my pink blankie and gobbling up leftover pizza. What songs might I play on my walk when it came time to brave the cold, I wondered. 80’s pop? Musical theatre? List by eclectic list rolled over in my musical mind’s eye, but a solid decision was yet to announce itself.

That’s when I heard her. Saw her.

Felt her.

And what did the soft girl whisper to me, you ask? She whispered a change of plans. Not an outright change, nothing drastic. Just a tweak. A slight nudge to move me into better alignment with the makings of a greater day. A greater me.

The soft girl showed me a vision of my walking track— the one I’d be springing along in the not too distant future, whistling up fat-armed gum trees, crunching along a pathway of pebbles grey, red, and brown.

But things were different in the soft girl’s version of events. In the soft girl’s version…I wasn’t alone. My little baby elephant— my adorably delightful five-year-old boy—had come along for the pebble crunch of it all, and it-felt-good. It felt…right.

It was that feeling, the feeling of rightness I experienced upon mentally viewing my little mister striding along beside me that confirmed it. The soft girl. Her subtle, intuitive language had whispered it’s quiet hello so that I might use it and make this life of mine better.

An hour later I walked out the front door, trailed by an ever so excited little boy. An hour after that…the two of us bounded back into the house, huffing, puffing and smiling from our Super Mario ‘star run’ down the street to home.

The soft girl got it right again today, the lovely duffer

And my goodness, I’m grateful.

person wearing shirt standing near tree
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A Blog a Day in May

Fairies

Life is too short to dismiss the possibility of fairies.

I’ve never seen one.

And the imposter within me doesn’t even believe.

But I’ll never stop looking.

I’ll never stop pestering my children to look.

And when we find such magical lands as this…

I’ll look harder.

Ps: This is a public garden about twenty minutes from my home. Isn’t it the most beautiful place?

xx Brooke

Twelve Days of Christmas

The Twelfth Day of Christmas

On the twelfth day of Christmas, her sleeping babes warmed her heart from their beds.

What joy might tomorrow bring for them, she wondered, remembering the magic of being a child on Christmas eve.

She remembered lying in bed, listening to the lullaby of her heart, hoping and wishing to meet the morning sooner.

She remembered such lovely things—

and she smiled.

Because on the twelfth day of Christmas, the girl became a woman in love with the dream all over again.

But this time the dream was for her sleeping babes.

Sleep tight, my little ones.

Sweet dreams, until the morning finds you.

celebration christmas cup dogs
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

Ps. Thank you so much for coming on this heart-filled journey with me, these past twelve days. Merry days to you all, my lovely friends. Here’s hoping the magic of the season finds you and chases you well into the new year.

xx Brooke

 

 

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Twelve Days of Christmas

Mary’s Boy Child. And Mine.

On the first day of Christmas,

all my Mum pieces melted into puddles of sun.

It was the boy child who did it.

‘Mummy!’ he shouted, the moment he saw me smiling

from my place in the front row…

where I simply had to be.

Because

I mean

how could I be anywhere but the front row when it comes to matters of him.

How proud I was of my precious little

camel.

Yep.

Bet you didn’t know there were camels at the birth of Jesus.

Well. You do now.

And today, at kinder, my little boy was one of them.

Today, for the billionth time since he became mine…

I loved that little boy.

And he, well—

He was a camel.

A camel who clung to his Mummy, so happy she came.

It was a good day, today,

this very first day of Christmas.

Yeah.

It was a really,

really

good day.

child in black jacket blue yellow old school print fitted cap riding skatebaord
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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 29: Dance.

Dinner time arrives and the darling of the day is yet to find me.

Yet to whisper its sweet melody into my ready ear.

But…wait.

Darling, in an instant?

Music blaring from the iPod dock.

The story of my youth—

The eighties in a splash of pop and rock?

YES!

Absolutely yes.

And then it all begins. The hopping, the bopping.

The chopping, the stirring.

Dinner for fun, singing as I go. (Of course!)

And the little boy I made? Well. He’s all wide eyes and wondering…

Has Mum finally lost it?

Is this the moment her scrambled brain says…

Meeeeeeeep. Booooooop. POP!

Nope. Mum hasn’t lost it, Son.

She’s just…

A little bit in love. 

With the eighties and all its wonderful SOUNDS.

Because darling is a good eighties bop along.

And darling is the way it makes you feel.

photography of a woman listening to music

The darling blog of May

The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 26. Days Like These

Dear world—you’ve really gone and done it this time.

Just look at all the sun-drenched wonder you’ve strung about my life today; I mean, really.

What is it that you do to me? How is it that you fill my heart with so much glitter and starlight?

And you don’t even seem to try.

Darling, darling days, like these.

That’s how.

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What a gift this day was for the little boy who swung, and slid and jumped.

For the toddler girl who ran and ran and ran, like the cutesie bubble of dynamite she is.

For the Dad who sipped coffee like liquid gold, and lifted his face to the warmth of the sun.

What a gift it was for me, too.

And probably for the fairies. (Don’t tell me you don’t believe in fairies, now.)

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Autumn does this to me, you know.

Takes my heart in her hand and rings it like a hand-bell.

Shakes me up in a cup of her magic dust—cut from the moon and the sun and the stars…

And leaves.

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And more leaves.

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Who knows what that magic is, dear world. I bet you don’t even know, yourself.

But it’s just so beautiful.

And gentle.

Like a breeze that fills the air with the song of the birds.

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Darling days.

Never did I think they could be so sweet, but here we are, once again.

A day so darling and bright.

A day to fill this heart of mine to overflowing.

It really has been that darling.

And…maybe a little random, too.

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The darling blog of May