I walked to work in the wind, walking sideways, and I arrived with hair that had appreciated the fluffing up. I walked home in the wind, still warm despite the darkness.

That’s really something else, isn’t it? The wind in the dark, in the park as I take my shortcut home. There is something powerful about the wind, something I haven’t quite figured out yet.

Something especially mysterious about the wind at night when the invisible hides in the darkness.

—

The physical movement through space over time is propelling her forwards, towards, closer to the end.

The light danced off her fingertips and landed in her hair. She played with it.

“Can you see what I see?” She asked. “No,” I replied, “I can only see through my eyes.”

“Sometimes we move sideways,” she murmured, as if she’d forgotten I was there.

“What makes it home?” I asked. “Difference,” came her reply. “And details, memories and love.”

The blood in her veins would run like a river towards the ocean if she gave it the chance. But she knew better than that. She knew the ocean wasn’t the end.

“Well that’s just it!” She exclaimed. “Isn’t it? The circle of life and death and we all just go around and around and call it living.”

She sighed like the weight of the world had taken up residence on her shoulders. “I need a break,” she confided, “From all of this.”

“Is death the end? Or a beginning?” I asked. She lamented, “It’s just a continuation.”

She pirouetted down the hall and into the room and quoted, “But we do not have to dance.”

She took a step back, followed by a deep breath. Fear radiated from her pores.

“But you’re so far away!” I shouted. “That depends on your perspective,” came her reply.

“These days I breathe sadness,” she confessed as though it was something I should have known already.

She took care to notice the little things in life. That’s what made her different.

“Nobody sees the little things,” she explained. “They’re all looking for the mountains that face the sea.”

“When will you return?” I asked. She just glanced at me and smiled.

“Sometimes we can take our time,” she explained, “and sometimes we don’t have that luxury.”

Ah! But what’s in a glance in a moment that cannot be found again?

“You see?” She laughed. “There you go again on the same track, round and round.”

“What if you took a break from all this?” I suggested and she cried and told me it’s impossible.

“But, the night?”

She paused, turning the words over in her mind until they found the form she wanted. “The night,” she replied, “is never as dark as it seems.”

Night Poem
I wrap the night around me like an overcoat, hiding in the folds of darkness. The collar glimmers with the light of the stars and the sleeves glow soft like the moon. I bury my face behind a galaxy.

She
She fell away
Into obscurity
And out of reality.
She fell for you.

He
He has invaded my conversational speech.

Spaces
What’s down there?
In those places we pass by.
What’s down there?
Why?

Drunk
There’s a hole in the sky
Where I can see though the clouds
And I wonder who’s looking back?

There’s a tear in the armor and a crack in the shield and what can get in can get out.

I’m still not sober.

Early
Morning storms can be more invigorating than sunshine.

Wind
I
Am naked
And the wind blows around me.
Raging
And grabbing
And blowing away…

Skies
I will never tire of pastel skies.
Looking up and trying to decipher where the blue ends
And the purple begins
And how the pink in the middle is defined.

Meet Me
Meet me on the horizon between the edge of the sky and the end of the world,
I’ll be the one with the sun in her eyes and the wind in her hair.
Meet me in the dusk between the shades of pastel skies,
I’ll be the one wrapped in starlight and prayers.
Meet me on the bed between the sheets and the night,
I’ll be the one reaching out for you.
Just say you’ll meet me there.

Photo by Katiekills’ on Flickr.

This week I wanted to share some of the inspiring things I’ve read. The things that I’d like to read while curled up with a cup of peppermint tea, getting ready to take over the world!

✿ Leonie Dawson of leoniedawson.com wrote about which of her 2012 goals came true and which ones didn’t. This inspires me to fill out my 2013 workbooks and to go back over my 2012 ones to see which goals and dreams I made come true this year.

✿ Julien Smith of inoveryourhead.net wrote a list of things you should know. Some of them make me want leap out of my cozy reading nook and be amazing, some of them aren’t right for me. But that’s the great thing about lists, you can pick and choose.

✿ Alison of alidoesitherself put together this little list of DIY beauty products. I want to try making the lip balm and the deodorant.

✿ Danielle Leduc wrote for McSweeney’s an open letter to the job market, which is funny and sad and makes me glad I have a job that I like.

✿ Finally, this song by Switchfoot, Dare You To Move, never fails to inspire me. Click here to watch if you can’t see the video below.

I lean over the railing, feet tucked between the pillars, and tip my face towards the sky. The grey clouds that have filled the sky all day cover the stars like a cosmic duvet and the sky is infinitely black. Imagine standing in a space that was infinitely big, and infinitely black and filled with unending wind. Wind that tugs, and pulls, and whispers in your ear. Wind that roars so eloquently that you have to roar along with it.

I love the feeling of the wind on my bare arms. It’s warm and chilly at the same time. It makes me feel invincible and free. It blows the cobwebs from my mind and gives me a clarity that I didn’t know I had within me. Then a split second later it fills me back up. With power, with joy, with whisperings and roars.

I lower my gaze to the silhouettes of the trees that furiously wave to and fro. They’re saying hello. Or goodbye. I can’t tell which. I smile. Move away from the rail, letting go, removing my feet from between the pillars.

I stretch my arm out over the edge and try to capture an eddy of wind in my cupped hand. It is immutable and uncatchable. Wind can only be experienced in the present moment. You can’t save the wind, only the memory of the moment. I pull my arm back in and turn to walk down the stairs.

My moment is over, only the memory remains. The memory itself immutable, untouchable, mine and mine alone. I walk downstairs.

Photo by Speedboat on Flickr.

This week I wanted to share some of the nourishing things I’ve read. The things that I’d like to read while curled up with a cup of chamomile tea.

✿ Rae from journeymamma.com wrote about some of the things she notices in her life. I like reading her words, the feel like feet padding around the house in a quiet slippered way. Gentle, quite, nourishing.

✿ Christian from christianmahai.net wrote about words and the urge to write them down sometimes. He was inspired by something beautiful at McDonalds!

✿ I like reading things that give me a snippet of someone else’s life. Especially when they’re full of nice memories and tales of humanity. Like this story by Mathew James about his mom and the small town they call home.

✿ Seth Godin wrote about the importance of making and keeping promises.

✿ And finally this song, because it’s one of my favourite songs and Chester’s version is awesome. And you can download the song on chestersee.com. Click here to play if you can’t see the video below.

We go down to the beach and play in the surf. Leaping over waves and under waves, trying to catch the big waves in to the shore. Sand between our toes, sunshine on our shoulders. Ice cold drinks with colourful straws, chips and salad when we’re hungry.

We go shopping. In old town, in Da Nang, along the roads. We finger shirts made of soft material and colourful dresses and shoes of all shapes and sizes. Stopping for breaks at cafes that serve passion fruit juice or fresh croissants. Shaking our heads as we’re invited inside shops, being bullied into purchases because “first customer today, lucky for you, lucky for me”. Eyeing off earrings and dresses and jackets and tea cups. Still searching for a specific type of perfect tea cup. Adding things to our wish list like serving trays and postcards, crossing things off like handbags and wallets.

We talk. We eat. We laugh. I snap a few photographs, record a sound clip or a snippet of video. Building up to a new project.

We wonder where the rain is this rainy season. It seems like the weather is here to celebrate with me. We celebrate heat and birthdays and cows moo-ing outside the window.

There’s cloudy days and clear days. Day with a little rain and days with none. There’s bottled water and chilled Dahntahn and iced coffees made on condensed milk. There’s trips to the stores up the road to stock up on lollies on Friday afternoons and early wake-up calls during the week to witness a misty sunrise or go on an expedition to the beach.

There’s less rushing than last time I was here, I have more time to spend, more time to waste on the little moments, the precious moments. More time to soak. More time to revel. More time to enjoy. More time. I am savouring this.

Happy 18th birthday, my littlest sister. I thought of what I could give you today (besides my old iPhone!) that would help you through the next few years as a new adult. I came up with a few pieces of advice that I would, and would not, give you.

I won’t tell you not to drink too much. You should try a wide variety of alcohol until you find something you like. Try scotch, try a gin and tonic, find out if you prefer red wine or white. Find out what your limits are (in a safe environment of course!) and find out what you’re comfortable with. Then stick to those personal limits. I know you’re smart enough to do this anyway, so I won’t tell you not to drink too much.

I won’t tell you to be careful around guys. I won’t even ask you to learn from my mistakes (although you’re more than welcome to of course). I will tell you to love yourself first, because that piece of advice is the most useful piece of relationship advice I can give you. Love yourself first, wildly and without fear. And, you might have bad relationships. And that’s okay. Learn from all the relationships you have, the bad and the good, so that next one is better. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’ll be two states and one phone call away.

I won’t tell you not to get a credit card. Because you’ve already told me you’re not that stupid. And I am so proud. I will tell you to get a debit card. I will tell you to budget, but also to experiment with different styles of budgeting to find out what works best for you (hint: everyone has a different style of budgeting and often they’re worth learning from. Pick out the bits that work best for you). I will tell you to start a savings account. One that you plan on not withdrawing from. Even if you only put in $10/month. Start one, I promise you won’t regret it.

I won’t tell you to look after yourself. I know you will. I also know, speaking from experience, that if you want to eat a bowl of Oreos and peanut butter for breakfast one day it won’t kill you. It’ll probably just put you off eating peanut butter for a few months. I know that you’ll eventually figure out that doing a little bit of exercise everyday makes you feel better than not doing any at all. I know that you’ll figure out how to cook the food you want to eat, and I know you’ll probably fail the first few times at trying a new dish. And that’s okay. Especially if no-one knows you were making it (hide the evidence!).

I won’t tell you to dream big and go for your dreams, because that’s cliche and over rated. I will tell you to do something you love. Even if that means you have to do something you don’t love to get to it (like work part-time at a boring job while you study for that dream job). And remember that even dream jobs can suck sometimes. Nothing is perfect.

I on’t tell you that life is all fun and games. Sometimes you have sucky days where everything goes wrong and you and grumpy and easily irritated. Those are the days where you need to step outside for five minutes. Honestly, this is the best advice I can give you to get out of a bad mood. Go barefoot, find a natural source of water or a big tree, stand, breathe, feel better!

So today, on your 18th birthday, I give you this, a few lessons I’ve learnt from my few years in the world of adulthood.  And, I give you permission. Permission to ignore any and all of the advice above. Permission to become the kind of adult you want to be. Permission to make your own mistakes and learn your lessons that way. Permission to go wild, or be mild, or find the balance in between.

Permission to be Caitlin Rose MacLean any which way you want.

All my love,
Your biggest sister,
Zoe

I’ve tidied the site up a bit, given her a fresh coat of paint and removed the pages that no longer serve their purpose. I’ve also discounted everything in my store by 83%. And by everything, I mean my recipe e-book because that’s all I have available! But the recipe e-book will only be available until December 31 because in 2013 I want to bring some fresh new exciting things into this space and I need to clear out the old before I bring in the new.

So here’s to fresh beginnings everywhere and to your last chance to snap up a copy of my first e-product at a bargain price! Cheers!