Tuesday, December 13, 2011


Oh my goodness, I'm so freaking excited I'm fair bouncing!!! I think I need to leave work really quickly because I'm beginning to scare people! 

I am soooo glad I finally decided I'd regret not going to the Foo Fighters concert tonight (with the incredible bonus of Tenacious D!)  Bounce bounce bounce! 

(There's no one to bounce to, so I'm blogging it, deal with it blogosphere).

Ok, way too early, but I'm going to leave anyway.  Yay yay yay! Wheeeeeee!  (Grief, I'm like a kid in snow for the first time).

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Waxing lyrical on love again

I'm in one of those "I really want to write" moods.  But all the things I want to write about are perhaps not for public consumption.  Private musings on the journey of life, of love, of God, of growth.

There was a lovely quote an acquaintance posted on her Facebook page the other day - "It's going to hurt anyway. So if you're going to love, give it everything.".  That, dear friends, is a motto to live by. And, I think sometimes we read or think about love and we confine thoughts of love to 'significant' others in our lives.  Our partners, our parents, our children, our siblings, our most cherished friends, our source of being.  But love is bigger than that, if you'll but allow it to be.  Love can (and by definition ought to!) extend to the random stranger on the street who looks so troubled, until they receive your heartfelt smile or greeting and they light up (surely you've been on the receiving end of this too? I certainly have), or to the workmate who is having an appalling day and you gift them with a genuine comment of concern, care, or an action of practical support.  Or to the person you observe struggling at the supermarket and you abandon your own fear of standing out to offer them help, or a comment of sympathy. Or the acquaintance (or again colleague) who you can see is having a rough time and you find the courage to be vulnerable and actively offer them your ear, or your support, or at the very least, your understanding.  And can I say, it is sometimes scarey to reach out to someone you wouldn't normally reach out to, it can raise all your own insecurities, your vulnerability, but really, is that not the mandate of love? To be bigger than your insecurities, to be bolder than your fears, to be open to receive love and in turn to be willing to give it.  And the more you offer it, the more you find you have in your own life - to draw on yourself, and also to give out to others.  

And YES - loving really does hurt!  Empathy is not a passive point of view, it is an active identifying with people and allowing your heart to feel what they feel.  That is NOT a comfortable thing!  But is your ultimate goal to be comfortable?  It certainly isn't mine.  Yes, I want to live with peace of mind, but I also value growth and I'm here for the journey, to truly experience life.  To experience love.  As a receiver, but also abundantly as a giver.   It's a poignant ache, but what a way to know you are alive.  Of course, love is not just painful, it is beautiful, but I do think an emotion as strong as love is always a mix of pleasure and pain - of ache and of joy, of vulnerability and of elation.  Embrace it.  Dare to feel.  Risk love.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Dare to live large

How do artists find the courage to share their art?  Poets, song-writers, sculptors, painters, musicians, dancers. For surely in expressing your art, you lay bare a part of your soul.  I think perhaps, the desire to share what is in your heart must eventually outweigh the risk and associated fear of making yourself vulnerable, by so openly sharing a glimpse of your sacred-self.  But still, courage must be needed.  Personally, I need my heart to be handled gently.  But of course, when you share your art, your audience is never entirely of our own choosing, and not necessarily gentle, safe or kind.  Hmm.  And yet, sometimes, you just have to share, or risk stifling the beauty of who you are.

May more of us have the courage to be and share ourselves, to be open, to have faith, to trust. And to love and express that love.

Delight in the sunshine, in the rain.  In the gentle sound of leaves in the wind, in the fury of the sea in storm. In the quiet of the moonrise, in the majesty of the mountains.   In the sound of laughter, in the pain of grief that reminds you that you are alive.  In the love of friends, in the laughter of children.  Embrace each moment, and live your life as large as you dare.  And may you dare!

Monday, November 14, 2011

Be free, give, love

A little excerpt from an admonishment I wrote myself a month ago:

Embrace. Enjoy. Delight. Trust. And give.
In giving, your joy is reflected back at you.
And in so doing, it touches and blesses others, and thus
goes on. Be free to give and love.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Unexpected post for Ross

I am really missing writing.  I read back through a few of my older entries today and just yearned to sit back and write.  And I have just deleted a completely unfocused, uninteresting ramble in an effort to not lose my 3 remaining followers!

I'm taking enormous pleasure in my journey of late.  I took some time out to breathe last year and just consider the path I was on and check I was heading to a place I actually wanted to get to.  And right now, I am confident that I am firmly and safely in exactly the place I am meant to be.  Travelling lightly, with my heart and mind open to what may come my way and a willingness to experience and grow through whatever landscapes my path may lead me.  I have been blessed by beautiful friends, new and old, and I continue to draw on the things that brief but beloved friends have taught me in the past.

A couple of weeks ago I honoured my brother's 50th birthday, spending a couple of hours chatting and crying and philosophising  with him at the family plot in Waikumete.  I had a wonderful wonderful time and I am so pleased I went.  He is still so present in my life, even if only by how poignantly and painfully I miss him.  I'm not so sure that time heals, I think perhaps the passing of time means there are bigger gaps between the moments of intensely feeling the lack of a person in your life.  It surprises me how much I still miss Ross.  And yet it pleases me too, because as long as I miss him quite so poignantly, he remains a part of my life.  And that was my greatest fear when he left, that I would forget the sound of his laugh, the timbre of his voice, the cheekiness of his play.  But these things remain I am pleased to say.  As too is the memory, and the reality of how beautifully he believed in me.  Not by words, but by active believing.  By taking me places others would have cautioned me going to, by doing things with me others would have questioned my ability to do.  Never did he ask if I was sure, or if I was ok or if I needed help.  He just walked beside me, matching my pace, never making me feel bad for being slow, never making me doubt by admonishing me to be careful, just staying with me, loving me as I am sure only a brother can.  I am so grateful.

Funny, I'd kind of been wanting to write a bit of a 50th birthday tribute for Ross, but that is not what I just sat down to write.  Yet there it is.  Happy Birthday beautiful brother.