You’ve always been the ultimate practical joker… waiting in a dark bedroom with one of your dinner plate-sized hands over the light switch... hiding behind doors and scaring the shit out of us... banging your hand on the side of any vehicle, making us think we'd backed into something... driving ...
If we’d always kept our word, we would have missed out on countless afternoons of fun and quality time with Dot. And now that she’s gone, I am so very grateful we broke promises and didn’t keep to our word.
Awakening to love, and reconnecting with your heart, is living with presence, bravery and vulnerability. It's a willingness to accept it all, moment to moment -- the good times, the painful times, the perfections, the fuck-ups, the triumphs and the spectacular failures.
What would my 20-year-old self think of my almost 40-year-old self? She’d probably think, "Oh fuck, you still haven’t done any of that stuff? Now it’s way too late. You’re old. You missed the boat." And I’d say, "Yeah, I know, I know, I’ve been thinking that too."
... next time you have the inspiration to create/write/paint/say something but don’t -- because you feel like you’re not good enough, not worthy enough, not experienced enough, not consistent enough, not perfect enough -- do it anyway.
I love that even though you are a fiercely independent, anti-establishment, let’s face it... feminist (of course, you wouldn’t call yourself this because it would mean conforming to a social cliché), you also bake awesome scones, knit socks, sew frocks, grow your own veggies, and have a pantry ...
Once, in an effort to console my broken heart, Mum told me love should be like an old pair of comfy slippers. Oh gawd, I thought. Now that is tragic. How boring. How unromantic. I’m still not completely sold on the comfy slippers thing, but I sure am done with tragic.