One Piece at a Time

Perhaps we are all built of many puzzle pieces.

As we grow and create the lives that we live we become witness to some of those pieces and it is our job to figure out how they all fit together…to match the colours, shapes…

Some of us are made up of large jigsaw pieces. They are easily put together but perhaps we struggle to make them fit. Perhaps not.

Others of us are made up of hundreds of little pieces. So many tiny pieces with so many colours and shapes. We struggle for years to fit them together, to make it all make sense.

None of us really know what kind of puzzle we have. We try and fail and try again. We hope to get it all together before our time is up…some of us achieve that, some of us don’t. Doesn’t make any of us less valid or more important.

We are a race of questions, assumptions, cravings, inclinations, needs, wants, hates and loves.

I’ve seen some of my pieces and I’m slowing putting them together. I think I’ve seen some of yours too. I wonder; if they don’t fit together, if they could somehow be neighbours? Similar in their colours and shapes, and perhaps we could try to help each other build our puzzles…one piece at a time.IMG_2309

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And she ran from something…everything. From the truth. She ran until her chest was heaving, her cheeks pulsating, her eyes stinging from sweat.
She ran from the limitations of her four walls, from the limitations of her age, lifestyle and economical status. Faster she ran. Faster and faster she went; willing, no, demanding the speed to obliterate. Something…everything that was following behind her.

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Fearing the Current of Time

She’s afraid of the darkness, and the possibilities it holds. She’s frightened by the silence and everything her body craves within it. She’s fearful of the stillness, the restlessness and the knocking of the door when only the taunting breeze calls. 


There’s nothing to do but move. Move as much as she can with that smile painted across her face and that irritating bounce in her step. She moves to the beat as the days pass on by, searching for the next one. The next anything that can create a change to the current of time. 8D56EF23-D95C-447F-AD01-49CC6A3C9E98.jpeg

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One More Breath

There are moments that make everything else fall away. When your only reality is that moment in time, that space, that breath. And for the time being nothing else matters. The moment pauses and eyes drift uncomfortably…but it’s a moment you want to hold…just a little longer. For just a little more.
And as it passes you by, drifting off into the past, soon to be page marked in your history of moments; you wonder if it can ever be again. Just one more time. One more breath…

And for a fleeting instant you are frightened about your future.

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I Am Capable

They continue to talk to me, even though the costumes have been resized, redistributed, and replaced. I can hear their voices and their absurd struggle to connect even though the road is open wide and quite clearly attainable.
I cry for their heartbreak, for their bad timing and their loss. And slowly, as the day ages on, my arms become less heavy, my eyes less strained and dripping and my possibilities less daunting.
I have reaccepted something that I had pushed away most certainly on purpose. Perhaps it was because I was familiar with the ride and all the extras involved in that journey. Perhaps I was just trying to be someone who I just cannot be. In either case, it’s back. I’m back, but with more. With the ability to not only step inside but to create that persona, that story, that world you step within. I can create within my safe space and then step aboard from a less stable platform.
And now I know I am capable. Capable and I will. E1B3EFAA-2060-40A1-8691-F5D811829F52.jpeg

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It Was Her.

Most days she felt different than everyone else. But on this day that wasn’t a good feeling. It felt lonely and alienating. Like she was some how not right. She overheard others speaking together and sharing the energy of the morning sun. Today it looked menial to her. Pointless. Empty. But perhaps it wasn’t their small talk that was empty.

It was her.F3660345-DC58-4667-9117-18F76B3684B6.jpeg

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I Submit No More

That moment when everything IS.

When your heart and your mind and your joy and passion and being just feels right.

There is still mess, and things out of place but you can sit in ‘it’ knowing that it IS how it should be. How you have known it could be but denied acknowledging it. Spending years creating a habit of looking the other way…you began to believe it. You  submitted.

And in ten minutes time, you’ve discovered…no, you’ve regained and accepted what you’ve always known.

And those ten minutes were just as they were. Pure. Fantastic. Rousing…

And I lived. Without proof or backup. As shallow as I chose, contently without fear.  I was just as I should be and all I have missed. I listened and saw you and was.

I was. I am. And I’ve never been happier to be.IMG_1939

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