Life

  • Far Too Long

    It’s been far too long since I’ve written like this. I’ve just been reading over old diaries, feeling my voice through them, knowing my heart. It made me think of how I used to do that, here. How I used… Continue reading

  • The Beautiful Things

    There are days when the wind blows my feelings in storms over the sea of life, and on these days my old friend fear rows back to me and makes himself known. Do you need me, he says, can I… Continue reading

  • 1946

    He bought it in 1946 for six pounds, which apparently was quite the sum back in the day. He’s 92 and wonderful, my darling neighbour, Joe, I’ll call him. The gigantic relic of a dictionary was his. Now it belongs… Continue reading

  • Soul

    I had to write. With my heart open wide and my energy flowing, I had to write because writing is what my soul does when it needs to breathe. My soul needs to breathe. I stood beneath a tree in… Continue reading

  • Hermit

    I always thought I’d become a hermit. I saw myself in the bush somewhere, surrounded by breaking sticks and bark for miles and I was home there. No one to argue with. No one to feel too much of. I’m… Continue reading

  • The Soft Girl Again

    It’s hard to tell what brings me back to the Soft Girl. She’s certainly not always around, especially not these days of nappies and loudness and putting out the emotional spot fires of small children. But today she came back.… Continue reading

  • Carols

    It’s tradition. And though the tradition has changed, it’s still just as beautiful to me. I am no longer a child. I am no longer innocent and stainless. But there is a beating heart within me that remembers. Merry Christmas,… Continue reading

  • Culture

    Sometimes I wish I had been born of another culture, a culture of eyes wide open, a culture of hearts wide open. They say to resist ‘what is’ is to cause your own suffering. Am I suffering? No. But I… Continue reading

  • The Moment Divine

    A brief note before my story begins. A note to the mothers, a note to the fathers. To those who have birthed live children, and those whose young ones were taken too soon. This story— my story, our story—may be… Continue reading

  • Authentically Not Myself

    I am authentically myself when I am not at all myself, and it is magical, beautiful, wonderful. What do I mean by this? Well, I’m not sure. It’s a little too obscure to understand or explain, but I’m certain you’ve… Continue reading