Skip to main content


Photo by J.Scott Bovitz

There is nothing I need do today. There is nothing I need understand. There is nothing I need to be. There is nothing I need have.

There is my breath. There is the crisp fall air. There is the laughter of my children blowing bubbles in their milk. There is looking out the window and sensing something that flows through, and is all the space between, is the walls, doors or windows, with no need for them.

A steady stream of golden radiance, and all the moments when I can feel it--until I shut my heart to it.

More and more I bring it back.

It knows my absence isn't personal. It is always there when I return, as open and as loving as ever.

It waits for me. It waits for me to wake up to what is, and the essence of it that can only be communicated in melody.

It leads me gently across the architecture of my life, shows me my patterns, nudges me to pay attention to the heaven parts.

Like yesterday, when I called a local garage door company to tell them that I was very sorry my bill was still unpaid and very late, that it had gotten buried in all of my hoods of being, and he called me back-- and with all his heart told me, no worries, that he understood, and that we have to support one another in this funny thing called life--not to think one more thought about it.

"Thank you for your very human response." I said.

Thank you for your compassion, beautiful man.

These days, all I have to do is just look around me and see people, really see them, understand them, with no need they do anything, no need they be anything, no need they give me anything. Seems this is being extended back to me in the unlikeliest of places.

And me, who is trying her best to learn that it is an illusion, my belief, that where love is, money is not.

So, today I feel the part of me holding the space for a new and peaceful world, this part of me, today just a little more prominent, than the part of me that seems destined to remain pessimistic about all of it.

I focus through into this gentle stream of possibility. What have I got to lose?


  1. Ahh...beautiful man's response was so so sweet, how refreshing.

    Your words always seep in and soften my insides. Thank you for sharing them.

  2. Hiya Brooke,

    Thankyou for reminding me that only the love is real in any situation.

    I fully support the part of you holding the space for a new and peaceful world.

    This new and peaceful world is being built from the inside.

    Lead on Brooke, lead on...

    Love Nige

  3. Deep peaceful sigh. Thanks for bringing me to this place, this peace. I am with you!

  4. Everyone has summed it up so I too, feel.

    Your gentle words of love and allowing give me something very timely to draw upon as I go about my day!

  5. There is a peacefulness about this blog. What a gift to of that peace, the garage door man gave you. Blessed will be that day when, and it is coming, when love replaces greed.

  6. I love that you said, thank you for your very human response. Your writing is beautiful.


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, mag


Photo by Ben Herbert on I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing. I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline. The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here. There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons. My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a singl

Partaking of the Fruit

Photo by Anya Vasilieva on What I most struggle with in creative writing is that there are some ideas that just feel like they belong in the ether, in the natural born clouds. They aren’t meant to be pinned down, and every time I try to pin them down into a practical form on a page, I wound them a little bit, and must throw them back up into the ether for repair, to restore their more nebulous characteristics. This content isn’t supposed to have legs and weight, and to make noise when it walks, or to have such things as a name and defining characteristics. Rather, just whiffs of possibility that hint at an undercurrent of parallel worlds so vast and amazing as to put any Tolkien or Rowling to shame. Its just supposed to hang there, ripe for plucking, but the plucker beware. The fruit bruises easily. And yet, there are those books that seem to pin down something that doesn’t maim the central cast of characters, and in fact broadens the material into something that change