where the magic lay
I sit with grace on the front verandah, palms up to the sky, body joyously relaxed against the old wooden rocking chair that was here when we got the house. Now it’s my favourite place to sit, with the afternoon sun in it’s direct meeting point. My eyes are not quite closed, and not quite open. There is a gentle, cool breeze that rustles my hair over my nose and lips. And all I can hear are forrest trees rustling, the birds chirping to the subtle humming vibration of the setting day. The last touch of precious sun touches my cheeks, shoulders & lights up my heart. It washes away my silly little worries of the day, with each falling, deepening breath.
I look around me, eyes like sponges just absorbing as much of the beautiful reds, yellows, pinks as possible. The colours that just seem too incredible to be real. I can’t believe I live here. I can’t believe we live here. I feel so peaceful I could float. I catch myself in this moment and think of the way life dances its own beautiful, miraculous routine each day - just like a sunset. It has it’s own way, it’s own beat, it’s own bigger plan.
There is a warmth holding me by the shoulders, it feels wonderful. My heart flutters a little as I open my eyes to meet his. He leans in, my one, to embrace me fully. We giggle a little, just like children, and he pulls up a chair right beside me to watch the sun disappear for another day. I look at him - his rugged stubble, that wavy golden-brown hair, those blue eyes, and that devilish smile - and it’s as if the light of the sky dances around him just for this very moment. He is my angel, I gush. I catch myself with the cheesiest grin on my face, and by the time I look back out through the forest - the sun has already been called to the other side of the planet.
I awaken again with a peaceful wash over my body. It’s been a recurring dream.
I roll my ankles around and around in gentle circles, and then my wrists. I take in my first savouring, deep breath for the day. I smile as soon as I open my eyes to find Sadie’s right next to mine. She’s sprawled out in the middle of us, her beautiful fluffy sock paws spread out wide. She couldn’t be more relaxed. Oh how I love her. It’s still dark outside. I check the time, 5.45am. Only 15 minutes to squeeze in as much love as I can with my two angels. I roll in closer to him. I rustle my hands through the messed up sheets (he is horrible at neat-sleeping) and finally find him - warm, bare-skinned and just delectable. I kiss him all over his neck, back, face. He scrunches up his nose, breathes in deep - he is awakening. And as soon as he is aware enough to embrace a new day, he rolls around and finds my face. “Good-morning.”
When there is only a few minutes left of this time each morning I just savour each and every moment. After those few minutes are up, we are up and we are out the door within a small window.
He’s off to another day at his real estate job and I am off to another big day at university and/or nannying or doing creative work.
As I dordle off to my favourite little coffee spot on the way to the train station, I let my mind wander back again to my recurring dream. Peace washes over me again, with this knowing feeling. It’s the most vivid I have ever experienced in my life. Matt and I, on this verandah in the middle of the forest. It feels like ours. And I can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit of magic weaving it’s way through my life. A little taste of just how possible a peaceful existence is for me, for us. Maybe it’s a sign that inner-city living isn’t always going to be what my life consists of, although I love it right now. Maybe it’s an exciting little nudge that my passions really take off and I can write, create, work from anywhere. Even when we have our own beautiful little munchkins running around on that forest verandah.
I find myself stopped out the front of my delectable coffee spot. And back into this moment I go, mind going over the things on for the day, and then - always - back to him.
The last few weeks of winter have been nice and slow.
Nannying for fewer-than-usual days a week and going back to uni has been a lovely change up. The days I do get to spend with the twins remind me just how much joy, wonder, awe I get from being their nanny. Their nurturer. Sometimes I wish they could know just how precious they are. The moments where they just do the cutest things. The excitement for each, tiny little stepping stone, each new experience. I love what they teach me each day I spend with them. I am savouring each and every moment of being able to call nurturing little wonderful humans a job. It’s just so, so precious.
I find the weeks I am not 'working' as much less joyful. There are less small reminders to just play. They are big teachers of non-attachment. Children in general. Putting so much love, creativity, fun, joy into everything they create. And then at the end being so thrilled when they get to absolutely destroy it. Like "Hey, should we knock this thing over and start again?" Oh what some human adults could learn from them for the times when things don't go the way we plan. Just to let it go with excitement and start over, doesn't matter. Even the big cries or moments of defeat are expressed so unapologetically that when it passes, it has simply just passed. I love being able to play that role in their lives, being able to hold them and say "it's okay, get it out sweetheart." Walking away from my retail day job a few years ago to become a nanny has been a very rewarding chapter in my life. It has prepared me for being a mumma myself. And I am really excited to be a mumma one day.
Uni has been really amazing and really challenging. It has taken me so long to get clear on what I would want to study, with so many failed attempts in the past at different degrees. I love that rather than a dread for the projects I get to do, there is an excitement and a passion. I have been a little bit overwhelmed at just how much work there is to do, when normally I have a job 4 days a week and other moments and parts of my life to cherish and water. But I try to remind myself in moments of overwhelm that all I need is a little trust, surrender, faith, love. Everything is looked after.
Matt’s job continues to take up 80 hours of his week, but he continues to grow and make me (even more) proud. Our last few months together have been in parallel with the winter season - as if the rain and the cold has been gently inviting us to cocoon deeper together, to reach new levels of openness, expansion and love. It has been a very reflective time. We have been laughing, talking more openly, exploring new ways of raising our energy as individual human beings and as a union.
We spoke a few weeks ago, late into the night, about the unfolding of circumstances that eventually lead us into the highest love both of us have ever experienced. Into choosing each other and how powerful the knowing feeling of love was the moment we allowed it in. It was like a veil just dropped from our heads and our entire bodies just knew. It’s been a time of going deeper and deeper and deeper into ourselves and letting parts of the sacrifice we made go more and more. It has been an ongoing process of being gentle and nurturing with ourselves and each other. We have always been able to bring uncomfortable things up, hearing each other out and just holding the space nice and safe. It’s been a time of full-circle realisations and healing. And it has been filtering out into other areas of my life in profound ways. I am slowly gathering this complete space of self-acceptance, more powerful and profound than I have ever experienced - true liberation and wholeness at play.
There had been a clunky time in my internal world a year ago when I chose to give in to the pull I felt to be with Matt. After my ex-boyfriend and I walked our seperate ways, I broke into a million and one pieces. And the one person who made sure I ate, that I was okay and really accepted me in that space so unconditionally was him. We would sit together in a metaphorical darkness, around the same time she had left him too. We were two ridiculously wounded animals.
And recently when we sat together and both agreed on feeling this sense of ease, and this wonderful lightness, this love in being around each other. It got to the point where we basically didn't want to separate, we wanted to be around each other for longer, to go deeper.
Since I have started truly letting go, so much has shifted. So much has opened up. This new space that has invited wonderful new friends to come into my life. Strong, creative, open, honest, wonderful women - all walking their own unique paths unapologetically. They have all played equal part in shining light on the way perhaps I have been romanticising the past, making it okay to hold on tightly - when maybe it’s really not. Maybe it’s time to let go completely. I have been slowly soothing that sore spot where she has lived so fully within me, around me - right in my heart space. It still hurts and maybe it always will. But that is so much more than okay. Just allowing it to unravel all as it should is an awesome feeling. And perhaps letting go just means letting go of how it was, to allow a new reality to surface.
there are so many parts of my story
that will forever go untold
the parts that aren’t mine to tell
the parts that are held only
in the hearts, bodies, footsteps
of those who broke
opened, grew, shattered
nurtured mine
i can only allow my spilled blood
onto my own page
never theirs
as much as i wish i could
make a triangle
a well-rounded square
photo by allegra - learning so much about food photography - nom nom
