Writer on a quest to overcome a fear of sharing words and thoughts online. Empowerment through story, poetry and purging. Get. It. Out. You'll be better for it.
Remember when peace was the baseline?
Remember when you didn’t have to pay to be alive?
Remember when you could walk across the earth without fear of trespassing?
Remember when all you owned was the body you woke in?
Remember when existing meant you didn’t have you use imaginary currency to buy food?
Remember when love was instinctual, and you weren’t judged for your feelings?
Remember when your life wasn’t dictated by the hours of a clock?
Remember when your life wasn't dictated by the whims of a generation of old men?
Remember when pain was a lesson and not an instrument of torture?
Remember when shame wasn’t a word?
Remember?
Remember??
Neither can I. 🙄
Can we change it please?
Is world view a perspective thing? Can we acknowledge one truth while living in another reality?
Too much hate.
Too much oppression.
Too much horror.
Too much greed.
Too much sadness.
Too much punishment.
Too much judgement.
Too much suffering.
Too much taking.
Too much talking.
Too much destruction.
So much love.
So much freedom.
So much joy.
So much sharing.
So much compassion.
So much empathy.
So much understanding.
So much peace.
So much giving.
So much listening.
So much regeneration.
It's in the Intention.
You know what's hard?
Being ALIVE.
Being a PERSON.
So if you're reading this.
Good job Buddy.
You're doin' great.
p.s. None of us know what the hell is going on. So let that shit flow right over you and square up for the next round. You got this.
I'm experiencing a train of thought.
Whereby I'm attributing personalities to types of jam.
(jelly for my U.S. friends)
Strawberry
Raspberry
Marmalade
Blackberry
Cherry
Chilli
Mint
Honestly it just feels so limiting to the human experience
and then I discover there is:
Kumquat jam.
And I'm like
Thank God.
Represent.
Sometimes life feels like trying to fight your way out of a sock.
In a ball pit.
At a death metal concert.
Underwater.
And someone is pouring coffee and alcohol into the sock to give you the energy to relax.
And every ten seconds someone else is selling you something so fucking brilliant it's guaranteed to make you strong enough to get out of that sock.
And someone small is saying they’re still hungry after you just made them a sandwich but it's hard to hear them over your work phone ringing but you dropped it in the sock somewhere.
And someone close is brooding you're not giving them enough attention but you're drowning and it's hard to hold the emotional baggage of others while you're fighting through this sinking-wet-sock-caffeine-soaked-hangry-kid-sales-pitch-work-pressure drowning type situation.
So yeah. Sometimes life feels like trying to fight your way out of a sock.
But they don't make socks like they used to.
So don't give up.
That sock's gonna deteriorate pretty soon.
It seems portal of wisdom and inspiration opens in my mind.
Quite regularly on my drive to work when my hands are occupied.
An exquisite stream of thought channelling from unknown dimensions.
By the time I pull over to scribe so often it's already dispersed into the swirling winds of space and time.
So it's become clear.
I need to quit my job.
It's possible the scientists have been truthful
and we are clouds of swirling matter,
and only our pact with vision keeps us solid.
--Rico Craig, Beneath an Eyelid
Sometimes it's hard to see how far you've come.
5 years ago I was too crippled by insecurity to sing my baby to sleep. I would only hum.
4 years ago I would have a panic attack before having a conversation with a female friend.
3 years ago I was waking up with double hangovers most weekends.
2 years ago I didn't understand values or boundaries, integrity and authenticity.
1 year ago I had never shared my writing with anyone.
What changed?
Inner work.
I made a choice.
To heal.
To question.
To explore.
To rewrite my story.
It's free to start. All you need to say is,
"I'm ready."
The universe will do the rest.
"Not the smartest dog in the cookie jar."
Happy Birthday Mum.
You would have been 61 today.
This quote is by far one of your best "Mumisms" and continues to inspire and amuse me.
Love always xo
I’m so tired.
Eyes like cannonballs buried in my head.
The weight of a day’s work as an employee
hangs like a steel mesh gown slung over my shoulders.
Tips me off-centre.
All those problems to solve you don’t care about.
All those hours spent thinking about what you’re going to do with your itty-bitty slice of space to yourself tonight.
I’m so tired.
Look at the kids.
They look tired too.
Fuzzy from having rulebooks shoved down their throats and ideologies stuffed into their exquisite little brains.
Might as well toss in some parental guilt while we’re at it.
Start wondering if you’re doing enough to keep them safe and happy and balanced.
I’m so tired.
Look at the husband.
He looks tired too.
Burdened by love and duty.
Striving to be the provider, task-driven creature of habit.
Locked and bound
in the bureaucracy of the system.
The higher up the ladder he goes the thinner the air.
I’m so tired.
But here I am.
Writing something down and feeling lighter for it.
Reminding myself
Some days feel slow.
Some days feel hard.
Some days feel lost.
Some days the words I write are just going to be shit.
That’s okay.
Because a slow hard lost tired day of shit writing
Is still better than none at all.
Keep writing Friends.
Even on the tough days.
Let me be
Indefinable.
Limitless.
Generous.
May we help all others shine in the same way.
Together.
We shall light up all the world.
Reaching unimagined destinations.