Once upon a time..

To "celebrate" (I'm holding in my tears and suppressing my longing) my one year anniversary since my Europe trip I decided to depress myself with pictures.

Starting to feel the itch again.. it's been exactly a week and a half since iv'e been on facebook. Not the biggest achievement to some but a trillion years for me. I found myself tempted to sneak on last night (who would know?)... and just before I even went to the home page and put in my login details. It would have been so easy to just press Login.

But I told myself that I'd lose all my self-respect if I gave in!

Dammit.

Keep me breathing..

“If we look at the world with a love of life, the world will reveal its beauty to us.” ~Daisaku Ikeda

I love the smell of freshly cut grass, purging to my senses as every single one of my thoughts disappear.

I love the feel of rain drops on my skin, cold, real.

I love the way flowers, even just one, can make a landscape of a pallet of greys and browns, prettier. I love the way they're perfect even in their imperfection.

I love the way one bird answers another, whistling, trilling melodically, a sweet language of notes.

I love the way the the sun and the clouds argue. Fluffy, bulbous, imperfect marshmellows covering the sun as it fights to shine through, finally, succeeding when the wind parts the clouds, blowing them out of the way as the sun caresses my face, warming me to my bones.

I love looking people in the eye and noticing the patterns and hues of their iris, textures of a crater, river or sparkle in their eye.

I love the flutter of butterfly wings.

I love the first kiss, the unsuredness, the quickened heartbeat, the first imprint of lips and electricity charge through the body.

I love old things, things with a history, a story behind them.

I love spring and all things yellow.

I love music and how it takes over my mind, every beat and melody and backing, working together to take care of my soul.

light in dark :)

Whilst insomnia haunted me last week (and this week still), rather than lay in bed cursing the active voice in my head but fatigued body I decided to have a midnight snoop around my house. Lo and behold, what do I find but a set of top secret government (ASIO) documents and fake passports... no, not really, not at all. I found a journal my parents wrote in when we were little with a bunch of loose documents sitting adhoc in its pages. It was fascinating reading stories about the start of the family and I felt a little affectionate swell as I read about their descriptions/comments about each of us children. So tender.

Things I learned:

1. My parents were always waaaaaaaaaaay spiritual.
2. Papa took me to see Luciano Pavarotti in concert when I was 3.
3. Papa used to do a bit of local radio work.
4. Mama bear insisted on finishing baking bread after her water broke before she went to the hospital to have me.
5. My older sibs did love me once... jokes. they never did. jokes again.

oh and I found this amongst various pictures and notes us kiddies drew/wrote to our parents over the young years :)

That mother of mine is secretly getting botox or something, I swear.

It's an Epidemic.

Just breathe.

In the past 3 weeks, I've said four goodbyes. Two funerals and two mission goodbyes. In the last year I've said an additional seven. Don't get me wrong, I know it's only goodbye for now but they still suck. I will very much and already do miss every single one of them. I know they're all in a better place doing great things and I'll see them again but it still makes me sad.

What's even worse is the goodbye's haven't finished. Another mission call has come, he's leaving me in late January and my best friend is waiting patiently by the mail box for his.

And please, no more funerals.

Just breathe.