Five-Minute Friday - Fly

  

I'm joining up with a writing group over at Lisa- Jo Baker's called Five-Minute Friday where the idea is to write for five minutes flat on a prompt posted on her blog.

  

It’s time to silence the inner critic.

It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good.

It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write.

This week’s prompt is “Fly”

Start

The butterfly finally emerged from the cocoon after her long struggle, and gazed about in quiet wonder. 

What had changed? 

The world was the same, yet fundamentally different, now capable of inspiring a strange sense of awe from deep within her. The leaves of her simple bush were still the smooth green tasty treat of days past but she had lost her overriding desire to consume them. As insatiable as before, her appetite was now for different things.

But what?

For the first time she looked upwards and truly saw. The blue sky and all it promised pairing with a golden sun, beckoning warmth and enlightenment. A life beyond the next contented mouthful. The whispering wind put a delicate hand upon her shoulder and lent its voice to her ear, chanting over and over “something different, something better.”

A dream that never had been before, suddenly was. She felt the longing in her gut, in her cells, in her mind and believed, believed with all her heart. The delicate morning light of a freshly born spring day was her last and her first.

In one fluid movement, she unfurled wings born of faith and flew.

Stop 

Five-Minute Friday - Tree

  

I'm joining up with a writing group over at Lisa- Jo Baker's called Five-Minute Friday where the idea is to write for five minutes flat on a prompt posted on her blog.

  

It’s time to silence the inner critic.

It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good.

It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write.

This week’s prompt is “Tree”

Start

I have always wanted a tree-lined driveway. 

My Nana and Granddad had a beautifully manicured farmlet - 5 acres complete with rock gardens, glasshouses, a fruit tree gulley with old fallen moss covered stumps and the most magnificent long gravel driveway lined with majestic blossoming trees.   

To a small girl, there was nothing more magical than that tall pink archway and the fantastical dreams it promised. So many magical moments with the crunch of gravel underfoot, a strong weathered hard hand grasping yours tightly and your upturned head, looking everywhere but where you were going. Meandering down to whatever home-baked goodness welcomed us back home again to reality.

Those trees, like so many branches of our family tree, are gone from me now, residing only where it really matters. Yet, they still continue to mean so much to so many.  My Parents, Aunties, Uncles, Brother,  and Cousins all grew strong and true under their protection, grace and inspirations. We wouldn’t be the characters we are without the influence of our whimsical wanderings, and now my own little leafy contributions are growing and blossoming in the faded shadow of long-gone trees.

Stop

Five-Minute Friday - Truth

  

I'm joining up with a writing group over at Lisa- Jo Baker's called Five-Minute Friday where the idea is to write for five minutes flat on a prompt posted on her blog.

  

It’s time to silence the inner critic.

It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good.

It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write.

This week’s prompt is “Truth”

Start

As I stand in front of the mirror, naked, vulnerable and exposed, I’m not sure if I want the truth. The facts are right there in front of me, unable to be scrubbed away by soaps and creams during my morning shower.  I choose to ignore them, and instead accept the lies that society has led me to develop, cherish and believe beyond all doubt during those awkward painful growing times in my life.

I am 35 years (old), 157 cm (short), and 73.5 kg (heavy).  Judgement, judgement and another judgement. I have orange peel cellulite, muffin top and boob droop. Label, label and another label. I have white lines running the length of my belly that tell the tale of each baby I carried in my body, in my arms and in my heart. One only six months ago. Do I wish my body was different? Yes, oh yes. Sadly I do.

But this is the truth of my body. It has done tremendous things during my journey so far; it has changed, evolved and risen to challenges. But the more it changes, the more society has taught me to despise it and be ashamed of it. I don’t want to believe the truth it is telling me; I just don’t want to accept it as it is. Instead I want lies of make-up and creams, of weight-loss and personal trainers, and of slimming pants and push-up bras.

Every day when I drop off my beautiful babies to school and kindy, I tell them they are getting better and better every day. Yet I don’t believe my own truth, I hope they believe me instead.

Stop

Five-minute Friday - Together

  

I'm joining up with a writing group over at Lisa- Jo Baker's called Five-Minute Friday where the idea is to write for five minutes flat on a prompt posted on her blog.

  

It’s time to silence the inner critic.

It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good.

It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write.

This week’s prompt is “Together”

Start

I can see it beginning already. There is a fiery independence in her eyes, in the way she looks at me with just a touch of disdain when my request takes her away from that all too important task she is undertaking. 

Our Together is not forever. 

She is going to move out some day. Sure, her bags are long from packed; she still needs me to help tie her shoes, but our Together is all too limited.  She is beginning to want to find her own way in the world. She doesn’t want Together with me right now. She wants to spend time with her friends, instead of her mother. She is trying out new found powers of negotiation, and beginning to see how her words can control and influence, uplift and encourage. I reach out and find myself rebuffed; a year ago that never would have happened. 

But for now we are Together, albeit a brief moment in time, in those precious moments before bed when she is tucked up safely, protected from wearies of life and love and expectations. In those precious moments, where she again reaches for me and my loving arms. Each day more and more, I need to grab Together with both hands and clasp it tightly. Together is a precious, non-renewable resource and each drop must be savored, appreciated and drained completely.

Stop

Five-minute Friday - Laundry

  

Today I'm joining up with a writing group over at Lisa- Jo Baker's called Five-Minute Friday where the idea is to write for five minutes flat on a prompt posted on her blog.

  

It’s time to silence the inner critic.

It’s time to hush the voice that whines on and on about how you’re no good.

It’s time to cram out the distractions and excuses and take pen to paper, keyboard to screen and write.

This week’s prompt is “Laundry.”

Start

Today I should be doing laundry. I should be feeding the ravenous metal monster that is never satisfied. I should be controlling that mutating, growing pile in the corner. I should also be cleaning the dishes that have accumulated in my much less than immaculate kitchen. I should have been doing 101 other things that will still be there tomorrow whether I do them today or not.