The Unofficial Guide to Life
Someone in the apartment next to mine was playing Danny Boy on the guitar last night. That’s what I fell asleep listening to.
Then today, when I was working away at my desk, I heard someone practicing their scales on the piano.
Continue reading “Memories, Collected”
I bought myself tulips the other day. Lavender ones – pale and pretty. The kind that would make me smile if I saw them neatly sitting on a windowsill. The kind that would inspire thoughts of one day, that’ll be me if I saw a girl walking down the street, carrying them in her arms.
Continue reading “Flower and Flour”
I hear a plane flying above me, somewhere in the pure sky. There are birds chirping, somewhere in the trees. And in between all these things, somewhere in the deep folds of the universe, there’s me. I’m not doing anything spectacular – not jumping on overnight bus journeys and waking up in new cities, or trying new foods with names I can’t pronounce, or climbing volcanoes at sunrise – I’m just here, quietly existing in my own little way.
Continue reading “These Moments, Too”
I’ve been sitting by my window every day for the past three months. It’s quiet at times, noisy at others. When it’s quiet, the only sound is the clicking of my computer. And when it’s noisy, it’s like a symphony’s out there playing a private performance just for me.
Continue reading “Sounds I’ve Heard From My Window”
In my mind, May is hues of soft pastels, tulips in the front garden, a floral patterned dress as I sit on a patio in the glow of early evening sun. There’s a promise in the air; laughter rings. Yes, I’d love another gin and tonic, thank you.
Continue reading “May Days”
I have a lot to be thankful for. My family for one. Ed, for another. And my bed, and the sun, and BBQ chicken for dinner. And laughing over nothing, and the sound of singing, and lighting a candle that smells like peppermint when I eat my breakfast.
Continue reading “On Cultivating Gratitude”
Written July 10, 2014
The world’s an awfully big place. There’s a million places you could go, but after you walk out your door, maybe your feet always lead you back home. And maybe that’s not a bad thing, maybe that’s a beautiful thing.
Continue reading “When Life Drifts Along”