Feel Good List

– Cold showers in the middle of a lethargic day

– Cold showers after a sweat at the end of a hot day 

– Lychees and Mangos and cold fruits in general 

– Cooking a meal 

– Watery porridge with coconut milk 

– Reading books that resonate 

– Diffusing the room with Rose and/or Ylang Ylang 

– Burning Palo Santo 

– Moving through Vinyasa Flows 

– Meditating 

– Working up a sweat somewhere 

– Writing about things that feel good 

– Driving long distances with the radio on 

– Taking a workshop 

– Learning from someone that inspires you 

– Listening to your body

– Making lists that feel good 

– Intuition 

– Following the impulses 

– Clearing the space 

– Buying re-usable beeswax foodwraps 

– Listening to electronic ambient music on repeat 

– Listening to mantra music when the mood strikes 

– Taking a nap when the body just wants to crash 

– Going to bed on time to be up early 

– Watching the sun dip up from the horizon 

– Yellow light on the wall at dawn 

– Yellow morning bathed rooms

– Morning air 

– Setting up new intentions for the day 

– Anything that tickles with excitement 

– Saying yes to life

– Dancing with someone and sharing a moments connection 

– Deciding that forgiveness feels better than resentment 

– Deciding that this is gonna be a new moment 

– Deciding that integrity matters the most 

– Setting into motion new habits of thought 

– Pressing play on life 

– Paying forward appreciation 

– Enjoying a buskers music 

– Remembering the moments that felt beautiful 

– Letting go of the rest 

Summer, January 2020


A part of something is only something that began within

I don’t want to be a part of anything that makes right something by making wrong another. 

I want to be a part of something that embraces growth, movement, holistic approaches to life. I want to be a part of something that takes a moment to question, a deep breath, a moment to ask… will saying this help anything? I want to be a part of something that takes that breath… holds that space… and remains deeply rooted in compassion and strength. 

I want to be a part of something that embraces the shadow as well as the light. 

I want to be a part of something that orients towards growth… that takes a breath and moves inwards towards personal growth… that expands and breathes out excitement, flow and clarity. 


You have a life that is yours to live

I like deep dives into anything and an open mind.

I like personal stories that touch the universe in us. I love humanness that I can relate to.

I admit… being in the trenches of life is what it’s about. I have lived so little of life and yet I feel like my caverns are deep, unmoored and ungrounded. 

I light up at the light pouring through the crack in the doorway. I like the idea that when one door closes, another door opens. 

I light up at the discussion of ideas… but more so… I light up when goosebumps ripple across my skin. When the only thing going for me is intuition and that intense body-mind connection. I know then… we’re on the same wavelength.

I light up when the dreamers scatter the night sky and resonance hums through me. 

I light up on the dance floor… dancing a dance from within and I light up at the little girl marching to the beat of her own drum.

I light up… at sheer honesty, radical honesty and strength. 

I’m inspired by strength and integrity, wool that is black, sessions on my yoga mat moving through vinyassa flows. 

I’m inspired by meditation and the awareness that I’ve felt, lists that don’t follow any particular rules, structure acting as support. 

I’m inspired by the concept of co-creation, nuance, sublety and detail along with the big picture. I love the process of expansion and I love the Winter cycles of renewal and root work. 

I love the idea of waking up every morning, purpose filled and ready to begin… and I love the idea of being gentle when I am not.

I love the way this gives rise to a new page, a new sentence, a new line… a new beginning, a new moment, a new lets try again right now. 

I love a new idea and I love a re-shaping of the old. 

I love the way life seems to flow with each rivulet moving me closer into the river and the center of the spiral. 

I love the thought of becoming. I love the thought that becoming happens to us when we allow ourselves space to grow. I love that allowing ourselves space to grow entails invitation. The new leaf of my orchid grows towards the sun as the old leaf at the bottom yellows. I love that the process of renewal and death can happen in tandem. I love that the new root of my orchid has sprouted on the side next to where I placed a rose quartz months ago. Pure delight to my inner child.

You have to love this soft human life of yours if you are to make anything worthwhile… even a cup of tea. You have to love the frowns as well as the successes if you want to live a life that is balanced. And you have to throw everything (or something) out the window and jump out of a plane, do something on the edge of your comfort zone… be embarrassed… if you want to develop courage… compassion… and whatever it is that will carry you through to the work of your life… that is… the work of living. You have a life to live that is yours. 


One of those weeks

I stopped caring. About all the things I lost, all the faces I forgot… and all the stories that were washed away… splattered ink… red and all horns like the devil. I stopped dying. Killing myself again and over again… for the sake of asking the same questions again and again.

I stopped falling in love with falling in love.

Instead I opened a new page, wrote a new chapter, prefaced it and let it end on a cliffhanger.

I stopped falling in love with my destruction. I stopped falling in love with romance gone ugly and began to really ask what I wanted, knowing what I very explicitly do not want. I stopped to admire the flowers, the beliefs with deep roots, spirits of trees with tall branches.

I hit pause for a while and asked why I write the things I do. I hit snooze for a while and sleepily listened to the storm outside my window. I get up, woozy and unbalanced and get on because I must do something important to me.

People rush to cram themselves into 7am trains. I feel sad for them. There’s an implicit feeling of being in the everybody else is doing this train.

I like the couple of travellers who aren’t part of this routine because they smile.

I fall asleep.

Worlds sift, change and emerge.

I’m here. Hours fly by.

I candidly speak of Saturn and Pluto meeting in the sky like two opposing archetypes getting into the same boat as the day comes to a mountain moving, slow yawning close.

Words and realisations come through with clarity for me. I didn’t realise Mercury could be on my side but there goes my propensity to personify. I know planets don’t take sides.

Someone asks me twice in the same day if I’m vegetarian. I say no. I prefer to avoid eating meat but I’m not a vegetarian, I explain.

I know the layers of my choice and the whys of them but what really matters is that I like the feeling of my choices.

And as the crazy week comes to a slow meandering, soft landing… I remember I cried three hours straight this week and felt raw and crystal clear the next day. Kind of like waking up with a clarity you can feel in your body. Surprise took a gentle hold of me as I observed this. It was like I cleared out the debris.

People don’t remember what you say to them… but how they felt with you. I remember thinking I’ve changed. For the first time in my life I gave myself permission to cry without forcing myself to stop. I hear my grief and I know deep down of its existential roots. Meaning made out of life’s events… and within them, my capacity to feel… surprises even myself. It never emerges until it really emerges… the human body’s capacity to carry and hold so much grief.

It’s familiar.

Briefly I encounter the notion of quitting this life again. It passes across my mental landscape like a tease on the breeze, gone the next day.

I remembered a lovely conversation in the park with the light dappling through the leaves as the very cliche phrase I was going to use to remember the feeling.

Cliches are shortcuts.

Respect. I felt so much respect for the wisdom of those here before me and the work they’ve done and continue to do.

Ten years from now, I will remember this as one of those weeks.



When you feel a connection to the land, it permeates every part of you.

Imagine this metaphor, of threads, entertwined to form a cord laced with hints of gold, connecting us to life, in this sense, what nourishes us.

What if it has begun to sever and you are tethering by a thread?

Imagine… that the land calls to you… that the leaves whisper in the wind and the voices of the people echo the wisdom of the earth. 

You sink into it. You let go of all the knives that have been embedded in your heart, clenched in perpetual tension. Everything dissolves… Everyones light is reverberating back to you, into you and through you. You are a light amidst all the other lights reveberating to the frequency you are tuning into.

You inhale and sink into your heart, you inhale and drop out of your mind, you inhale and you see the world from this place. Suddenly you notice it’s different. You’re seeing it differently. You inhale and you exhale and the land greets you, around every corner and in the eyes of people. You feel the land and you recognise this feeling of belonging for the first time. 

It feels new and it feels like coming home. 

Some time later it dawns on you, how soul replenishing that journey was, how the land reached right into you and threaded you home, how… a place is made by its people… and its people by their love for the land. Warmth buzzes in your heart and goosebumbs ripple across your skin. It is a truth that resonates from the core.



What an Autistic boy taught me about being a rebel

I was teaching his older brother… who… had actually told me he was struggling at school. He was so candid about his mental health… I was taken aback. Then it felt natural, to briefly share some of what I had struggled with at his age and what I understood about our lives that might resonate or land for him, and hopefully, well… that says it.

One day, his young brother came up to me, seemingly transfixed by something. It turned out to be my earrings. Call it the rebel in me masquerading as style. A persistent and growing reluctance to buying fast fashion. Mostly because I love the idea of enduring, the sense of enduring, the feeling of enduring. And if I’ve come to the end with a piece, I want to know it’s not because it’s broken… or that the season has moved on and so should I, but because I’m ready to explore a new palette. I want to know that it’s not something I can easily discard. Love has transpired in the creation of it and love has transpired in the wearing of it. This sense of interconnection matters to me. 

So I was wearing a pair of earrings made out of wood. 

This little boy reached up for them and exclaimed, “diamonds!”. I was stunned because my wood earrings were in the shape of a diamond, a “geometric figure of four equal straight lines forming two acute and two obtuse angles,” but I hadn’t actually registered that. To me diamonds are expensive and shiny rocks with a sense of exclusivity about them. His frame of the world… constrasted so starkly with mine – the reality I shared with most people about what diamonds are, and there he was, seeing the world like a rebel. 

Now that I’m older, my avoidance has intensified into a reluctance to buying anything plastic meant for the fast lane and an interest in supporting businesses and artisans that make ethical practices and sustainability a focus. It gladdens me, that there are others who take this stance far more seriously than I. They keep me honest. And this desire, reminds me… wealth matters. Wealth matters because I want to be conscious about the choices I make in the world I live in, and to have the power to make them, I have to love the notion of wealth.



If nothing was unforgivable

‘All suffering is created from an illusion’,

someone said,

and before i could wonder if it were true,

i woke and it was dawn 

peeking through the blinds of my room,

haphazardly i wrote it down.


This is a Buddhist expression. The way I understand it… is that our minds are ferocious creatures. Abraham Hicks says that all subjects are really two subjects. And I feel that Taoism teaches the meaning of duality without actually teaching it. It’s not a philosophy in itself but a path of integration. Ironically, the moment we begin to philosophise on what it is, we’ve lost it. Nothing is more about a way of being in harmony. Alan Watts writes eloquently about duality – how the religions that have shaped western history, are dualistic. It was my first understanding of duality beyond the knowing of something by what it isn’t. But this pithy phrase catches it too. Sometimes, its fun, to go deep… but sometimes we can get tangled in the haywires as well.


When you said yes


I love the moments of silence that are here, 

the trebles and the wobbles, 

the tipped toes and the high brows, 

with the skin stretched over bones, 

over years 

like a cathedral – 

one brick at a time. 


over there in the temple of flowers,

the leaves whip by in the wind

and soar into the tipped outline of feathered wings – 

they do this every day,

somewhat cheekily as they tickle by your ears

and ask, are you my tree?


today your otherness is meeting the dawn,

all the other ness’s too –

your highness, your lowness, your softness, your hardness –

today they’re all awash with skin, fingers, eyes and lips. 


the world looks fiery with the light of every human being 

in every way of being

why did you said yes,

to the possibilities and the drama?


You laugh and say, exactly. 




It’s all silent. Except for the wind, and the radio, sometimes. The silence wanders into you, like a river, seeping through the cracks of your thoughts, filtering everything… until these hours, stretched out over an entire afternoon, with barely anyone else in sight… feels like an exercise in meditation. Slowly, it becomes effortless… and the silence feels like the story of the gods churning the ocean for Lakshmi.