Mum. Unedited.

 It's a perfectly rainy grey day. My 4 year old son is playing in our backyard with the wet dirt under a constant drizzle. He says he hears a frog croaking by the silver birch. I love his unassuming wisdom.  Today I cannot help but reflect on leaving my troubles at the door.. and enjoying the moment for what it has to share. Have you felt that way sometimes?  All too often I walk through my days carrying burdens of the past. And I have heavy burdens... or so I say as I justify their existence. But I know life doesn't have to be this way.  There are two simple things you can do to fill your days with wonder, doesn't matter where you live and what your personal situation is. None of this stuff is new but I know it works from my personal experience. Leave it at the door When you wake up in the morning, the first thing you can do is to set a conscious intention to let things go as soon as they arise. Notice when the darkness arises in you. You will need to notice the physical s

I wake to a perfect day Your day.  Today.  The day you became a son,  A brother, A friend. What a perfect day indeed. The sun soaks me As I walk through our forest The cedars smell like home. A cool breeze gives me a chill. I wait patiently for you. Everywhere, nowhere. I look longingly for you.  Everywhere. Nowhere. This ordinary day, I know is no ordinary day. A light breeze blows across the grass Like a whisper of tenderness. I see you.  You’re here. In my stillness.  Everywhere and nowhere.  I see us together again. My life flashes before my eyes As if it were my last breath.  We fly through the past together.  Memories like holographic images.  We are here and there.  Everywhere and nowhere. Your gaze lights up the day, Your breath moves the clouds Your love colours my dream.  What’s left to say? Everything. Nothing.  And then, time starts to speed up, I dread this day will end And with it you will perish again.  The thought cuts me

Days come, Days go. Every day I carry my grief like a prize. Your gift to me.  I hold it close to my heart As if it were a delicate vase Studded with exquisite memories of you. Precious. Ephemeral. Everlasting. I nurture it. This grief is the most beautiful thing I have ever felt.  Real. Everlasting. I am slowly coming undone And tediously putting myself back together again. Piece by piece. I know I will never be the same. The scars run deep. Everlasting. When you left Time stopped. She heaved a sigh. And watched as everything froze to a halt In my infinite scream.  And then she started again. But her pace is different now. Unhurried. Deliberate. Everlasting. There was once a Before. Now only an After. Forever After. Everlasting. And as I step into this perfect moment With awe and contentment, Irreverence and gratitude, I wish it to be Everlasting. I know the connection we share The love we feel The magic we made Is Everlasting. You showed me that How we move through this life matters

Today I feel raw .  My thoughts and feelings are on display and I don't seem to have it in me to mask them.  Everything I've read, all the internal work I've done, it's not helping today. It's one of those days. A bad day. The one that makes the good days 'good'. Today is like what dark is to the light, drought is to the flood, grief is to joy. I'm walking through tar. It's pouring outside, so much rain! Thunder and lighting too. A worldly manifestation of my churning mind.  I watch myself this way - from above. I see troubles hanging over me like dark brooding clouds. I know tomorrow will be different. Probably better. But today is all I have right now. And today is hard.  But I know better now. I have had so many of these days that I've come to cherish these days too. I feel so much on days like today. I really experience myself. I notice how Time slows down. I watch my thoughts dart about in my head. I feel my heart race for no reason. I am a

  I wait for the words   To come out of the silence. But for now, I only hear the music. Only I hear the music. It’s playing a sad song today. Piano. Then violin and cello batter the strings of my heart.  A tear breaks free And it runs down my cheek. I think of the love lost. A love treasured. Your sweet smile, your tender voice.  It tears me apart.  We are one, and yet Who am I? But only a shadow of your being.  Take me with you To the bottom 10,000 miles below Where time is standing still.  Under water.  A guitar starts to strum. Reminiscing the good times we shared.  I know that I’d rather have lived a day, with you Than a lifetime without.  But if I could only have one more of those carefree days. I’ll miss you for the rest of all of my days. Our moments together come alive  In my mind’s eye.  I almost smile, welling up with gratitude.  That you ever lived.  I will always remember.  I will always remember. I will always miss you. I will a

I'm curre ntly reading Brené Brown's book 'Rising Strong'. And loving it. Powerful and empowering. In the chapter 'Sewer rats and scofflaws' she asks a question that's been very close to my heart for a very long time. Are people doing their best?    Agreed that sometimes, people ARE doing their best. Totally true. But when people are being assholes to you, when they're cutting in the line, when they are passive aggressive, when they gossip, when they're wreaking with racist hate. What about then? Are they doing their best then? Hard to imagine. Right? And then there's the big question, are you always doing your best? Am I? I certainly don't always feel like I am. Sometime's I'm just lazy. Sometime's I'm downright mean. I know I could've done better. I know I could've been less harsh. I most certainly could've done better. That wasn't my best, was it? And if that was my best, then is that who I really am? What d