WORDS FAIL ME
I have a confession… I am feeling a teensy bit of pride. Pride is something I feel very uncomfortable with – it […]
I have a confession… I am feeling a teensy bit of pride. Pride is something I feel very uncomfortable with – it […]
I’ve spent eight weeks safely nestled in a cocoon of Cs – Conviction, Curiosity, Conscientiousness, Courage, Connection & Commitment. And now I add a seventh – Completion.
The days were cold,
And the skies were grey.
The bare branches swaying in the swift brisk wind.
Still, the black dog slept.
I consider myself very honest. I fibbed a lot as a child – and I’ve read children who lie are often very intelligent. So I’ll accept that for now! However, there came a time (at least 20 years ago) when I decided it just wasn’t worth the hassle, the energy and the guilt, to lie. So now I don’t. Ever.
I keep receiving lovely messages of support for my blog posts – thank you 🙂 I am very touched by every message, and moreso with the knowledge my innermost waffle is read and appreciated by others. It really is very comforting. I also keep receiving lovely messages saying how brave I am for sharing so openly and honestly. For revealing so many of my ugly truths and personal struggles. Again – I thank you all for the support, but I’m also left wondering, am I doing the right thing?
You held me, in the palm of your hands,
When I was young, red-faced and new.
You held my hand, as up I grew,
Then held me in your heart.
From you I learned a love of words,
Of all things wild and all things free.
To nurture all the gifts we have,
Upon this earth called home.
Four score and more your heart once beat,
As life was lived and loved and lost.
So small and dark, and fair and stark,
Daughter, wife and mother.
No matter angst, or bitterness,
Forgiveness is a family trait.
I loved you all the days we had.
And cared as roles reversed.
I hold you, in the palm of my hands,
Your substance, strength, reduced to ash,
No wicked wit, no wise words left,
Now you are here no more.
As I entered into the big wide world of adulthood, I blossomed as best I could with my strengths and pretended as only I knew how I had no problems. I was blissfully ignorant of the depression, anxiety and eating disorder I was developing.
I believe my bodyguard is Coco. He is a cat. A beautiful, loving, devoted cat who considers himself human. He is intelligent and devoted and loyal. He loves without condition and demonstrates self-care without an ounce of regret or indecision.
To eat or not to eat. That is the question.Choose. To write or not to write.Choose. Work. Sleep. Play.Choose. Delivered unscathed from the maternal womb. […]
There’s a cloak wrapped tight around me.
A cloak of grief.
A cloak of fear.
A cloak of wanton weariness.
On 19 October – 23 days before peace treaties were signed to end the first world war – Charles and Eva McDougall welcomed June Margaret into the world. A world where electricity and cars were yet to become mainstream and Tasmanian Tigers were still living and breathing.
randmother was called Peace as a child. She was the youngest of three girls – the formidable McDougall girls. Her closest sister was born in 1914 and grandma in 1918 – war and peace. That wasn’t her real name though – her real name was June.
My grandmother passed away in her sleep overnight. I’ve been caring for her the past ten years. On Tuesday she woke up, reached out and held my hand and said, “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” She was 98 2/3.
I am coming to the end of an eight week online course for recovery from binge eating and/or bulimia. I am about […]
I introduced myself to my fellow writers in the awakening authors course I’m starting soon. I introduced myself in verse 🙂