A Blog a Day in May

Deep Diving: The Experiment

This is a little experiment where I will write. And I will not stop. Until I feel it’s time. Time, it’s an abstract concept, don’t you think? It’s not of the world, but also, it is. In an odd kind of way.

Life.

What is life, I often wonder. It’s the little things taken for granted. It’s the flowers we walk past every day, without looking. It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s them. All of us living in a world where everyone else is so easily wrong. All of us looking for something more. Better. Free-er. Right-er.

A little bit lost, most of us. A little bit bamboozled. Unsure. Unsure and beautiful. Unsure and strange. Unsure and almost there, but never quite there because ‘there’ will never be a place we can find on a map. And if we do happen to find it, we don’t want it anymore because ‘there’ always looks better from ‘here’.

Nothing’s certain. Nothing’s true. Nothing’s right, nothing can be. Ever. Not when all our eyes are made from different shades of wonder. Different shades of serious. Different shades of true.

But one thing I do know is this. Life is beautiful. Precious. Mine. Yours. Ours. It’s safe and it’s unsafe and isn’t that the point? Isn’t that the beautiful part? The not knowing. The being here, the never really knowing where ‘here’ is?

This was a little experiment where I wrote.

A little experiment that will go on. And on. And on.

All the days of my deep-diving- human-life.

think outside of the box
Photo by Kaboompics .com on Pexels.com
Advertisements
Poetry

How To Be Good

It’s funny

isn’t it

that the secret to becoming

a good Mum

a good wife

a good friend

a good human,

is to realise that

actually

there is no good or bad

anything.

Because what’s good

to her

and her

and him

may be absolute

nonsense

to the one who truly

believes

they know.

pexels-photo-459800

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
Photo by Fabrizio Verrecchia on Pexels.com

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
Photo by Daria Shevtsova on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

 

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
Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

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
Photo by Hassan OUAJBIR on Pexels.com

 

Life

Alone

Sometimes, I feel alone.

Even when I’m surrounded by people…

I’m not really.

I’m alone, drifting in a rose coloured world of wonder.

I’m not sad about it— feeling alone, that is.

It’s a beautiful place, this world I live in.

I’m just saying:

The world of a dreamy, wide-open soul is sometimes lonely.

Wonderous.

But lonely.

In this world, I sometimes feel like a teeny tiny sailboat trying to float in an ocean of mud and I wonder: ‘Where are the other boats like me?’

Maybe one day I’ll find them.

Maybe one day there’ll be more boats like me.

Maybe.

One day.

photo of people on rowboat during sunset
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com
Writing

The Happy Driver

Arki was a taxi driver, but in his heart he was a writer. He knew he was a writer because the words never stopped racing in his mind until they were out. Neither did the joyous feeling they stirred in him.

Everyday Arki would think up his words and send them into the world. He didn’t need a computer. He didn’t need paper. All he needed was to flash his words onto the windscreen of his cab, onto the night shining road, onto the cars that sped along beside him. He didn’t care where his words landed. All he cared about was that they landed.

He didn’t need his words to change anyone else’s life, either, because they changed his, and that was enough. In changing his life, they fixed a permanent light in his eyes that everyone who crossed his path could see and feel.

Joe, the frequent flyer who dressed for business and laughed like a monkey, slapped him on the back and called him, The happy driver. Jennifer, the lonely lawyer with sad eyes and a happy smile, insisted on a hug once they’d reached the office of a morning—just to say thank you. He’d wrapped his arms around her this morning and wondered if her eyes were closed and wishing to ‘catch’ some of his happy.

Arki had grown up with the burning need to change the world in some grand way. But as he drove along the road to home, thinking of his wife curled up on the couch and his baby boy, nose whistling in his cot, he smiled. He had changed the world in greater ways than he’d ever imagined.

And that, he thought, was good.

lighted taxi signage
Photo by Skitterphoto on Pexels.com