Mindfulness

  • Life Is For Living

    Life is for living. It’s a lovely sentiment, isn’t it? Lovely. And vague. Because what, exactly, is living? I turned thirty-eight this year, and I’m still fine tuning what living means to me. I imagine I always will be. Ever… Continue reading

  • Peace

    Peace. It’s soft and it’s cool. It’s free and it’s flowing. And quiet. (Good heavens it’s quiet. I close my eyes for that one. Truly. I close my eyes.) Peace. It lives in the candle beside me; within this flame,… Continue reading

  • Choosing This

    I’ve always looked beyond. Always searched for the more. Sometimes I wait for the more, craving the sweet beauty of tomorrow. Other times, I wait in fear. For horrors that may, or may not come. None of it is real.… Continue reading

  • A Beautiful Mess

    This messy home, an incorrectness: something broken needing to be fixed. The wars we rage inside ourselves just to keep control, to maintain clean, to maintain ‘right.’ It is a mistake of the eyes and the heart not to see… Continue reading

  • I See Me

    The soft girl whispers in my ear. I drift each cushion to the foot of the bed and carefully place it off to the side, as if it were made of precious, gold leaf. I peel back the doona; the… Continue reading

  • Clear Air

    One day, she sits alone, and understands it all. That she’s never been alone. That all this time their pain has lived within her, pain she never asked for, pain that is not hers to bear. Clear air is what… Continue reading

  • My Own Peace

    Some days, I take a deep breath and ask the world to soften. The world never does soften. So I fall behind its wind, and I find my own peace. Continue reading

  • It’s Funny How Life Hits You

    It’s funny how life hits you. Whilst taking a shower earlier, life hit me in a simple, yet profound way. A sudden wave of gratefulness. For hot water, my goodness, such a simple thing: taken for granted every single day… Continue reading

  • This Way, Life

    If not this moment, when? If not under this orange-grey sky, beneath these sweeping willows, fair, where? How do we taste the rain and know it is good if we do not open our mouths? The warm salty promise of… Continue reading

  • The Next Step

    I have spent so much time searching for the next step, and yet the next step has always been taken. With no need to search. Continue reading