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And now

Presenting:

This moment

Welcome to your appointment with life

Thank yourself for making time
in your busy schedule
to be available to notice
your breath
coming into your body
and leaving your body

Your belly rising
Your belly falling

Your mind slowing
Your tension releasing

Your heart opening
Your shoulders falling

Your smile relaxing
Your eyes softening

Your hair growing
Your forehead clearing

Your organs rejoicing
Your freedom expanding


Breath coming in

Breath flowing out

Yes
How lovely


Looking deeply into things

Opening your perception up to the beauty and miraculous perfection all around you

Remembering your innate intelligence

Savouring the elegance of life
And your self as part of the miracle

Here you are

Right here
Right now

Breathing
Breathing

Calm
Smiling

Present
Wonderful

Worthy
Welcome

You are as perfect as that leaf
That shell
That star
That sunrise
That breeze
You are all of these things
With gratitude and love
You belong

Breastfeeding

I remember 

It was years ago now

Sitting in a privacy cubicle in the parents’ room in the middle of a shopping centre


Conditioned air
Piped muzak
Grubby curtains
Playschool on the tele on the other side of them

Seeking some rest before attempting
The epic effort of loading the car with baby and self
Back to the place of endless labour
and insufficient sleep

Feeling a little self pity
At my lot
As a single mother
not by choice

And a voice
From the next cubicle
Where two local mums had been talking
Cuts through my ruminations

“Babydaddy’s a useless C##T anyway
All he ever does is
Smoke ice
And
F**k putrid hoes.”

Yes, I remember that.

Mirror

The mirror reflects my state of mind.

Not the truth.
Not any singular truth.

The clarity of my heart shining through my forehead
The scowl of my worries curving my shoulders
My love of self embracing the most excellent styling of my perfectly filthy hair
Or my mild blue afflicting my perception that the very same hair sees me unfit for human contact...

Naked.
Some days I scrutinise that reflected body as if it owes me something, 
answerable to all the erroneous demands of our superficial culture - what is that curve?  That hair? Why has gravity been allowed here? 
Other times I find the beauty of it breathtaking, wishing I was someone else so that I could hold it in my gaze and reach out with tender touch to feel its perfection tremble with pleasure.

When the mirror tells me harsh truths, 
if it is a lucky day, I can remember that 
the mirror reflects my state of mind
and I make some time to soften my thoughts
until the mirror reflects love to me once more.












Copyright 2021

Teacher

I make the space for the brains to thrive

Creating safety

Encouraging fun

Being a peripheral part
of the excited buzz
Of the hive of minds
as they pollinate each other

Witnessing their outrage,
their passion,
their determined agency
in the wryly augmented world
that they know to be theirs

Celebrating the brilliance
in every one of them
In all the manifestations it makes
As it shines through
via their unique and essential imprints

It’s like resting in a forest
As I survey in wonder
the miracles surrounding me
All these perfect human trees
Growing amongst one another

I am in awe

I am humbled

May they thrive
I whisper in my heart
As I meet their eyes and say their names




Cigarettes

Can you go buy me cigarettes

She rasps from the dark cocoon of wherever she is with her demons
On the mattress on my bedroom floor

I take my school uniform off and change into civvies
Put on some mascara so the 7/11 guy will sell to me

Come back with the goods

She’s still there
Deep in her turmoil
But also she sees me
As I bring her lighter

I was raped
She drops it
Like a bowling ball through a glass table
My feet beneath.

I feel the impact
On my childhood
On my innocence
On my place as her daughter

As she discloses
For the first time in her life
Nearly fifty years old
Her vast history of horrific sexual assault

In graphic detail
Of the violence
Of the humiliation
Of the insidious threats to silence her

A suite of stories
That I now see as almost universally thematic for so many women

But her first telling
Was my first hearing

And already I had my own
Silenced stories
Tucked away inside so many poky corners of my soul

She draws on her dart
Exhaling putrid smoke
Into my asthmatic face
She’s feeling that relief
Of no longer carrying it alone

Meanwhile
My feet feel the bruise of the bowling ball impact
My soul is writhing with the discomfort of being made the listener

She looks at my face
Hers switches up and she blinks
Dons the facade of adult
And says

You’d better put your uniform on and get to school


Copyright 2021