Being melancholy can lead to action, an escape from the inertia, to art, gardens, and movement and maybe, to see the world in all it’s beauty
A weekly gathering space for widows To be & to grow, as we cook our way to inner peace. To become a widow is to set…
It’s not the bottom of life itself, it was just the bottom line of a tribe that didn’t ‘get’ me.
Sometimes we are just pushed around, in and out, but in the end a cloth is made, it is the fabric of the life we have made. The dance of life, morphed into a tapestry of colour.
This is a post for those who have loved and lost – you may be absolutely ok 354 days of the year, I know I Am but on anniversaries, well you know, it’s ok to dwell a little
Such are the joys of love and life, and I have enough drama to last to eternity and back
But life’s like that, and I don’t beat myself up for not going with the flow, instead I just move along until I can.
I am just a piece of fluff Blowing in the wind We all break down We blow around Until it rains Not so good, for fluff…
The magpie called to me just now You can’t imagine the amount of time I spend in the past before I realise, and present myself, once…
With reflection, tonight I get to count the blessings of love, support, companionship and inspiration: I will go to bed on a sleepy high.