There is Still Joy

Some awful things have happened. There is still joy. I can choose to be Ophelia. I can choose to be Ripley. I choose to be Ripley. I will not go quietly. I will fight. My great-grandmother’s call name was Condor. A condor is a frightening and formidable bird. I will be formidable.

Disquieting

The most intense stage of labour, transition, marks the body’s transition from cervical dilation to descent of the baby into the birth canal. Essentially, it means the cervix has thinned out and its opening has expanded to 10 cm, the mother’s body has prepared her to begin pushing. During transition you will hear mums express…

Down The Rabbit Hole

Since my inaugural blogging days, way back in 2005, I have spent time shaping myself into a writer. At the age of eight, when asked what do you want to be when you grow up, I answered, I want to be an author. I wavered a wee bit as I grew. Nonetheless, the first proper…

I Shan’t Sing You A Lullaby

I shan’t sing you a lullaby, you who cast your vote for hatred, either directly or indirectly. I shan’t get over it. And why should I? The fact that you would expect me to means that your privilege has obscured your vision. You tell me to stop whinging, to stop making you feel bad for…

Aftermath

I awoke this morning to find a deep sense of grief had seeped into my blood and bones. And a chaotic mix of emotions sparking through my brain’s axons and dendrites. I sought comfort in like-minded folks on Twitter and returned to Facebook after a period of self-imposed exile. I listened as my 18-year old…

Aftershocks of Grief

  I could hear his heart breaking. I believe we all heard it. It sounded like shattering, splintering glass. It smashed like sound does, leaving us all mute. Leaving us all breathless. I collected myself in a tiny space of thought, struggling hard against the gravitational pull of that dark and strange world known as…

Requiem At Breakfast

  She made excuses. So many excuses. For him. For his abusive behaviour misbehaviours. She loved him. So much. So much that it broke her wide open inside. And, in his own disturbed way, he loved her. Wait, does a narcissistic sociopath even have the capacity to love? She could see it, the way his…

More Than

  “Can I stay?” she asked him in a quiet, sleepy voice. “No.” And with that simple word, he crushed her already suffering spirit. It took only a hair-trigger force to open that locked and secret place inside her mind where pain and agony were her constant companions. His standoffishness wounded her and for several…

Layers

  People are just layers and layers of secrets and he can see mine, I feel it. His eyes scour me, peeling away layer after layer and searching each one. I look into his steel-coloured eyes. I see nothing there. They’ve turned to glass. I feel my heartbeat everywhere and it has a thin, papery…

Rain Forest

  I returned from The American South with a hunger for the forest, my forest, my pacific rain forest. A friend of mine reminded me that, upon my return home, I needed to get inspired by my own locale – where I live. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Indeed, it did. It also…

A Topography of Disaster

  Everything falls apart, crumbles to a fine dust that leaves a bone white cloud in its wake. This bone white dust coats my throat, making it nearly impossible to breathe. I gasp, my chest heaves as I struggle to draw air into my lungs. I cannot. I feel hungry for relief, a reprieve from this…

Alzheimer’s Disease

  “She is leaving him, not all at once, which would be painful enough, but in a wrenching succession of separations. One moment she is here, and then she is gone again, and each journey takes her a little farther from his reach. He cannot follow her, and he wonders where she goes when she…