Life

Everything Will Be Okay

 

Everything will be okay.

orange tabby cat beside fawn short coated puppy

 

 

Everything will be okay.

brown animal

 

 

Everything

will be okay.

people holding siamese cat and short coat black dog

 

Photo 1 credit:

Photo by Snapwire on Pexels.com

 

Photo 2 credit:

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Photo 3 credit:

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com

 

 

 

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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
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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

 

 

 

Twelve Days of Christmas

Human Nature

On the ninth day of Christmas

I felt sadness inside of me

and I cried.

Who am I to keep sadness prisoner

inside these flimsy human walls of mine?

Sadness deserves freedom

just as much as joy does.

On the ninth day of Christmas,

I really was okay.

But even on okay days

sadness sometimes knocks

and asks to be let out.

Who am I to deny it that?

Who am I to resist my human nature?

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Life

Only Human

I’m not really okay, today.

And yesterday—

I wasn’t really okay then, either.

Yesterday, there were tears.

Feelings.

And yesterday I couldn’t see the sky, anymore.

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Maybe it’s hormones.

Or the rain.

Or maybe it’s just my broken bits screeching

Reminding me

That I am only human.

Or something like it, anyway.

white and brown shih tzu mix puppy with minion toy on green grass
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So.

For a day. Or two. Or three

I’ll probably still be this.

A little bit lost.

A little bit bamboozled.

A little bit wondering…

‘When will this tenderness seep back into my bones?’

person holding pair of brown nike sneakers
Photo by Ray Piedra on Pexels.com

Yesterday I searched for a place to hide.

A place to feel safe.

But today, I’m just here

Feeling the ache and letting it…be.

Because what else is there to do?

This is life, after all.

And life is exactly what I’ve come here to do.

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Inspiration

We’ve Got This

It’s just come to me.

Like a roar straight from the heart of the lion.

We’ve got this.

We do.

We’ve got it.

See?

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I’m not going to lie.

Sometimes, I think:

‘Ah, crikey. I haven’t really got this. Have I?’

Nope.

Nopey. Nopey. Nope.

I-just-don’t.

brown and white bear plush toy
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That’s when I remember.

Life is good, even when it’s bad.

Isn’t it?

Because bad wakes the lion in us.

Bad starts the fight.

For love. For dreams. For life.

boy wearing white shirt with iridescent hair color infront of flag
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That’s why I reckon it’s okay that I say it:

We’ve got this.

We do.

And, guys. For the times we don’t got this…

We’ve still got this.

Because we’ve got each other.

We’ve always, always got each other.

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(If you think that maybe you really don’t got this…you are not alone. Please. Reach out for help. Reach for a friend. A neighbour. A professional. Reach anywhere. Someone will be there to take your hand, I promise, they will. So. Time to get googling for your local helpline. Because, actually…you really do got this. You do. And with a bit of help…you will remember how to roar again. )

xx Brooke

 

Poetry

The Rose

The rose began to wither, in
her heart of woven gold,
the ocean melted in her eyes
for stories never told.

The window shone the morning bright,
not once did she look there,
the darkness had become her and
the rose, at last, was bare.

The bluebirds flew about the day,
the air cut like a knife,
and all the while a single rose
lay weeping bloody life.

For no one knew the rose had died
and left a heart of black,
except the girl with ocean eyes;
a train run off the track.

The gardens coloured in the world
so full of joyous spring,
and daisies spread along the path
as death came wandering.

The children danced in rosie rings
while men laughed at the sky,
yet, there she lay upon the bed,
a light about to die.

And as the days became the years
her rose grew back once more,
a rose of black and white, this time;
a life unlike before.

-Brooke Cutler, 2018

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The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 30. Life

Guys.

What happens on the days that darling says NO.

Today is not your day for darling things.

No way.

No how.

WELL!

Let me tell you what happens on those days.

You get out your headphones and you go straight to the nearest musical explosion of wonderful.

That’s what you do.

THAT is what you do.

So!

In honour of this perfectly cruddy day…

We close our eyes. And we listen to this.

Because surely nothing could be more darling.

Except maybe a cup of tea.

Bottoms up. xx

person pouring tea on a cup

The darling blog of May