i tore off a piece of me/ and held it up to the light/ examined it/ found fault in it/ cried//
i ripped off some more of me/ squeezed it between/ two panes of glass/ placed it under the microscope adjusted the focus/ and sighed//
A poem about picking myself apart.
at the entrance of the cave/ and on a rock nearby/ sit the philosopher/ and the poet//
one held by thought/ one held by silence/ they let the words talk//
they have forgotten/ the young storyteller/ who sits behind the tree/ smiling/ at their backs//
she writes as/ the birds sing//
A poem about discovery and being human.
Read MoreYesterday I watched a young woman show herself and the rest of the world what she is made of. I watched her lift everyone around her as she ran the 10km run of the Melbourne Marathon. We were all awe struck, proud and inspired. Writing about hope and inspiration, and an amazing young woman.
Read MoreAs we age, the rough edges of our youth soften. Smoothed by life experiences, knowledge gathered, life and loss. Writing about wisdom and growing up. Being at peace with getting older.
Read MoreA shout out to all those mums out there. The mums doing their thing. Sacrificing a little or a lot of themselves in more ways than one. Unapologetically selfless. You know who you are. I’ve got a message for you.
Read MoreWe all have something to forgive, or someone. And often the person to forgive is ourselves. The journey to forgiveness can be a long winding road with obstacles born from our unwillingness to release the person from the offending act. Learning the art of forgiveness takes practice.
Read MoreExploring what happens to us in life as we grow. Thinking deeply about why our joy diminishes, dilutes, becomes elusive or unnoticeable. Sharing how to rediscover the joy in the layers of your life.
Read MoreI have been thinking a lot about the heart lately. What it does. What it symbolises. What moves mine. With an unusual flutter now and then, mine tends to draw attention when I get too wrapped up in the world. Intrigued by what makes our heart swell with emotion, alongside our tears, is the inspiration for this piece.
Read MoreWe live well planned lives. It is pretty much mapped out way in advance. There isn’t room for uncertainty. There isn’t tolerance for uncertainty. Certainty is king. Maybe it is time to make room for uncertainty and sit with it for a while.
Read MoreThe first of October marks day one of Rocktober, a month of celebrating rock music. It also marks day one of Blogtober. Both of these things I hadn’t heard of before. And to be honest, I still don’t know much about either of them. Other than the fact that Blogtober is about taking on the challenge to write a blog post every day for 31 days, and I am doing it. Crazy, I hear you say? I know.
Read MoreOur emotions are important. They guide us, keep us sage and motivate us. They help us navigate between right and wrong. Without them we would be at best robots, at worst psychopaths. And yet, throughout life we are taught to suppress our emotions. Somehow our feelings have become the bad guy. The villain. Writing about the importance of emotions. Please read and feel.
Read MoreI have always been intrigued by the fact when a friend walks out of your life, through the door they leave open, another one walks in. How when placing the earth over a loved one with tears of sorrow, they turn to tears of joy with the announcement or birth of a new baby. It is the cycle of life. Hello. Goodbye.
Read MoreI have written this blog post in the hope that it will encourage people to listen to the stories of others in order to find their own truth. For people to have the same experience I had - to be slapped with the reality of the importance to ‘unapologetically embrace ourselves.’
Read MoreDostoevsky wrote: ‘The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.’ I realise there is no point in arguing with the great philosophers and psychologists of our time, research studies, medical experts and survivors. To have purpose is to have life.
Read MoreFor years I have shunned her. Pretended she wasn't there. The writer within me. Yet she has always been me; and I have always been her. The writer.
Read MorePlease remember that comments you place on Curious Muse are seen by everyone. Offensive, racist and inappropriate comments will be removed.
Powered by Squarespace
