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

 

 

 

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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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