words – Page 3 – St GEORGIA & Boo

walking towards truth

“I tore myself away from the safe comfort of certainties through my love for truth – and truth rewarded me.”
— Simone de Beauvoir

I want to tell my children, don’t mind going against the grain. Don’t be afraid of wanting to make choices that don’t seem logical, or sensible, or what you believe is expected. I want to tell them, only ever make your decisions from your own truth. From the place that sits deep within, the place that tells you well ahead that something isn’t right, that something isn’t good for you. The same place can lead you towards living in a way that speaks only your highest truth. I want to tell them, it wont always fit in with everyone, it wont always be what other people want for you or from you, nevertheless follow yourself anyway. I want to tell them, don’t fall into a sleep walk in your lives, don’t just accept that going through the motions is enough, it rarely is. Be your own enough, strive for all it is you are wanting and here is the secret, you must believe it. You must hold the deepest faith that all you are wanting will come about if you stay true to yourself. I want to tell them, now that I am older, I know better. I want to save them from some of the heart aches even though I know, really this isn’t possible and more than likely it’s necessary anyway. I want to tell them all of this, in a moment when they can really understand. I want to tell them that it matters, but really I understand that it doesn’t in the end.

young body. old soul.

Her feet bare more of that of ninety years,

They are more weathered than any explanation can offer

They are feet that have walked this earth many many times,

I know this to be true.

She is remembering rather than learning,

Her purpose is strong like a ferocious wind,

She is going to move through this life at tremendous speed, I’m not sure we will be able to keep up, that is alright.

She will touch people, move them, to pay attention like she has done since the day she was born, this is her gift.

She was born with old feet, and blessed with an old soul.

I have lots of things to teach you now..

I have lots of things to teach you now, in case we ever meet, concerning the message that was transmitted to me under a pine tree in North Carolina on a cold winter moonlit night.

It said that Nothing Ever Happened, so don’t worry. It’s all like a dream. Everything is ecstasy, inside. We just don’t know it because of our thinking-minds. But in our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever.

Close your eyes, let your hands and nerve-ends drop, stop breathing for 3 seconds, listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, which was taught in immense milky way soft cloud innumerable worlds long ago and not even at all.

It is all one vast awakened thing. I call it the golden eternity.It is perfect. We were never really born, we will never really die.

It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended.

There’s nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about. I know this from staring at mountains months on end. They never show any expression, they are like empty space. Do you think the emptiness of space will ever crumble away? Mountains will crumble, but the emptiness of space, which is the one universal essence of mind, the vast awakenerhood, empty and awake, will never crumble away because it was never born.”

-Jack Kerouac

takings from, Whitman’s Leaves of Grass

takings from, Whitman’s Leaves of Grass.

thoughts over lunch

The simplicity of

feeding the chickens

who laid the eggs

for me to cook

to feed

to the children.

can all of life possibly be this simple?

I am so thankful that my children are living just a little of this simplicity, in between ipads and youtube train clips. I’m thankful that my three-year old with autism can tell the difference between a carrot and a potato and that I often find play dough in muffin trays in my oven because he has been making cookies. Both of our little ones enjoy cups of tea in the morning, not because they are thirsty, more so because they already in their young minds understand the sacredness of that first morning cup, where sleepy eyes and heads are not quite awake enough yet for the beginning, for play. They will learn where their food comes from and that they don’t really need much to keep their bellies content.. maybe just a few chickens roaming in the yard.

i dont mind dirt under my nails

you are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering

-Hemingway

i dont mind dirt under my nails

You are so brave and quiet, I forget you are suffering

-Hemingway

For a rustic effect wrap your pots in coconut basket liners and tie with brown string. You can buy basket liners from nursery and hardware stores. If you cut them down the middle and open each piece up they will wrap easily around the pots, then secure with the string and trim off any excess. They look really nice when all placed in an area together like on a window sill or book shelf. A little winter indoor garden. For easy watering just place all the pots in the kitchen sink basket liners and all.

words

if there is a place where i ask the questions, it is here, with dirt under my nails and new life resting in my hands. It is here that I hear the sound of my own voice, where life speaks volumes in it’s all alluring silence. It is here where my creativity begins and always ends with a pen and notebook in hand.

mothers

mothers.

mothers

He asks,

‘What is it you do?

I’m a mother

‘Yes, I know that but what else, before that?

She feels her heart drop to the pit of her stomach , as she frantically searches her mind for a more suitable answer.

A mother, just a mother.

He is oblivious in the knowing, that in that moment all worthiness was stripped away and her heart was silently crying an abundance of tears

For the self she is yet to know and the self she has whole heartedly given to her children.

when did it become not enough? when was it that becoming a mother became so undervalued? It is true, there are parts of myself, parts that are not a mother or a wife but are simply me. They are most of the time in the shadows or only seen as a glimpse now and again and as mothers, the caretakers of our families we know only too well that this is a selfless journey we have chosen. We move through our days nurturing and nourishing our families by meeting needs and with an abundance of love. Often allowing all those who matter most to us to move on their journeys ahead of our own. We wait patiently, maybe for only a few minutes of solitude, or a full nights sleep, or enough time to take a bath, read a chapter in a book, or a pause long enough to feel the warmth of the sun on our faces, maybe the bigger things we will have to wait a little longer for.

It is undeniably deplorable that the very words ‘ I am a mother’ are so often perceived as insignificant and demeaning. That even I, when asked this was not able to convey my own importance and sacrifices here, that I was, in that moment diminished to feeling like it wasn’t enough. I believe that if it wasnt for mothers, so many that are blessed to be living up to their ambitious dreams and walking the journeys that they have chosen for themselves without the need to pause or defer to raise the children, might look upon us in a new light and with gratitude in their hearts.