Life

When A Butterfly Takes Flight

It’s the broken heart of my life.

When the soft girl found me, she brought me the most beautiful things. She helped me to feel the trees, and sing with them into the sun. She helped me to turn my most beautiful aches into words— words that so often break my heart and mend my soul: the very thing my words were always meant to do.

But the soft girl has taken so many things from me, also.

And one of those things is my beautiful husband: the most loyal and beautiful friend I’ve ever known.

He is, and always will be, one of my most precious people (and I have a feeling that I will always be one of his.) But over time it became very obvious that our puzzle pieces just weren’t fitting together anymore, and we’ve finally come to admit the truth of that. To ourselves. And to each other. It’s been a bit of a tough time for both of us, needless to say.

At the moment, I’m still processing things emotionally, but as usual this place and the beautiful friends I’ve found here remain the superglue that holds me together— I will always be so grateful to you guys for that. (I’m getting a bit love-hearty again, aren’t I, guys? Lol. You know I’ll never stop.)

What I’m trying to say is: life is a little hard for me at the moment, but I’ll be okay. I’ve got my trees. I’ve got my music. I’ve got my two precious little people, and the promise of a brighter version of the Mum they already know.

And last but not least…I’ve got you. And you’ve got me. And because you’ve got me, you’ve got all the dreamy love hearts, always and forever.

Because that’s just the way this soft girl of mine rolls.

crop field under rainbow and cloudy skies at dayime
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com

 

 

 

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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
Photo by Alex Smith on Pexels.com
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.

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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

Merry Birthday

On the tenth day of Christmas, there was a party.

Two years ago (nearly) she rocketed into my world and I fell irreversibly in love.

With her.

My mini me.

My little princess of the adorably nuts kind.

Happy birthday, darling girl.

Thank you for ruining Mummy’s forever Christmas;

no gift from here on in will ever be as sweet as you.

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
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

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