Refocussing the Spirit...

Sometimes, my heart races...

I cannot stop moving, yet I feel I'm in slow motion. My creativity is shot, for a spell. Therefore, anxiety increases...

I don't know why, every now and then I do this. But I have learned some tools to get out of it.

Some things that refocus my spirit are:

• Baking biscuits; enough for everybody around me. Making, and giving, for no particular occasion, just out of a love of life is a sure way to revitalise your mind and heart.

• Reading George MacDonald to myself in the afternoon sun, or by lamp light in the middle of the night. Whenever I go to him, he blesses me with a peace, a knowledge and a rekindled inspiration for a new day...

• Walking up "my" Mt Painter is another tool to calm to soul. The pure determination it takes to get up there is like a restart button for my mind. Everything is clearer when encompassed in God's creation like this...

• The last of these, is perhaps the most helpful. It's bringing myself here, to you. Where I read blogs, and share my own heart in this little piece of blog space... The friendships I have made are so special, go beyond flesh and can be relied upon to refocus a spirit on the cloudiest of days.

Blessings to all this beautiful day! And may your spirit sing at the thought of a blessed life, in this beautiful world.

Shell xx

Every new day, is new...

...and random projects in my domesticity inspire me in both what I eventually produce, and the internal, spiritual trail I take while getting there...

Songsmith xx

Van Diemen's Land

Due to cheap Virgin flights, and a love of spontaneity, last Friday morning myself and some good Tully women embarked on a short trip to Hobart, Tasmania. We became wide-eyed explorers of the Salamanca district...

We toured the alley ways, and the galleries...

I found a tiny copy of Shakespheare's Sonnets which I have long been after on the mainland. I should have known I would find it amongst the quaintness of, here...

The Salamanca Fruit Markets, was where we explored the local grocery selection. Found amazingly good apple juice and unspeakably pure dairy; still in bottles, like a step back, in time, and up, in quality...

The galleries, were little shops and vice versa -

I left my heart in many o' them...

We met with dear friends who led us on a scenic journey to Battery Point, where we ate amazing food and admired gorgeous European Style housing and the great Mount Wellington...

On Saturday the main street in Salamanca became a buzzing place of arts and crafts, fresh food, local delicacies, live music, colourful characters, and charmingly freezing weather!

Later as we walked through the city I chose to interpret merely the latter part of this Bushells Tea sign for my own purposes!

But it was the sea that did something to me. I had never before been so far South of my beautiful home country; and to stand on the dock knowing if I jumped on a tall ship I could sail to Antarctica, was something special...

The Lord loaned us some sunbeams to help savour the moment.

And the Aurora Australis was in dock...

I could not get enough of nautical rope.

And all be in all, I can say that if ever I had to leave beautiful Canberra, I could, and would move to this beautiful scenic, and every-so-slightly-wacky place! Artistry flows here. Like the perfect waters. I feel myself drawn to come back again and again. To write songs about the things I have seen, and felt here.

I think you need sometimes to get away. In order to come back. So as to see, everything clearly. There has been such delight, and unexpected therapy, in the reflection, of far away waters.

Shell xx

So Far Away...

Sometimes when love, distance and patience overcome me, I turn such energy into a song.

But today, as I await the arrival of my friend, home from his long journey - I know that the most perfect song about love, distance and patience has already been written!

I give you, the true Songsmith - Carole King. And I shall play this today, until his return.

Shell xx

Bluer...

I have been watching spring beginning, from my Sunroom window. Sun getting brighter, sky, bluer.

I've been sitting at my piano writing instrumental pieces; somedays you feel too much, and words aren't sufficient means for expression.

I have been listening to the small still voice, showing me every curve of the happenings, letting Him show me where I can help and where only He can help.

I've been feeling we're on the cusp of a new season, in so many more ways, than one.

Shell xx

{dearest dears, pretend we're in the middle of this conversation,

for I don't know how to begin it...}

...I have always had an uneasy relationship with my own Mother. A childhood of anxiety and confusion are the reasons that I now live my life to the fullest. Try to feel it all, and marvel at every star in the sky...

Will you let me tell you some things, that I would need to have heard by her before I could try again, to convince her to love me?

I hope next time will be better, and I'm glad we had once, a nice time.

But I feel assaulted, and insulted by your angry words and the way that you say them. I have only tried to behave well, and weather all of your storms...

I feel I am expected to perform all the duties of a daughter, without ever being blessed with the grace and unconditional love, of a Mother....

Despite these words please know that I am well dear friends! I have given it to God. Who is bigger than all of our troubles, and weaves all things together, in the end, for good.

I wish every good thing for my Mother, I want her to be happy and well.

I have given myself a task, to forgive myself for not being able to be a daughter in this fallen place. There will be such rejoicing in Heaven! Far from the Earthly bindings of paranoia, and accusation.

I can carry on.

I am 31.

Old enough now to admit that I cannot change the ones who don't wish to change.

To always honour them under God's law.

By living the happy life I've been blessed with.

Try not to hurt anymore.

And remember that wonderful phrase:

It is not what happens to you in life that determines who you are,

it is how you choose to respond...

I choose Happiness. Life. Colour.

Love. Never fails.

Shell xx

That place...

Good morning to sunshine. The morning after a long, late day. The relief of reaching the top of the hill. The time to think along the way. Fog like pea soup! I climbed above it! And looked out over the top. To find sun shining above it all.

At home for me waiting. Tea, toast and warmth.

Amen to such things! To prayerful meditation, while overlooking vast sloping valleys, or just a humble tea cup.

Amen indeed.

Shell xx

This place...

This place is meant for walking...

Was seen by the starry-eyed,

Is home to poets, philosophers & gentle spirits.

Waits patiently to see us,

Lays quietly beneath us,

The very life within us.

The centre of it all.

The gathering place.

For holding days with joy,

And un-handing days of loss, and pain.

We're all in this place,

it was made for walking...

Mostly with heads held high,

we can point to the sky and say;

'I was here when...'

and 'they were there, then...'

It's this place that keeps us here,

Makes us near,

This place is the Gathering, the Happening,

The Home, the Mother,

the Round Hill,

The Orchid, and the Memory.

The Harmony, and the Tragedy.

This place is all my people.

And all of us are,

This Place.

Shell xx

Booksmith?

I've become a reader!

For years my family, friends and {avid reader} husband have been trying to get me to read various literary treasures but I am someone who has stupidly never devoted my time to reading. Go figure? It makes no sense to me, or to anyone who knows me that I - somebody who loves writing, who always considered English her favouite subject at school, who is a stickler for correct spelling and grammar, a song and poetry writer - me - not read?! It's preposterous! And it is also {I hate to admit} lazy.

I don't like the idea of being intellectually, physically, or in any way lazy. I like to think of myself as a powerhouse of energy and self motivation! So I always find myself feeling a little bit embarrassed when people talk about the books they're reading, I want to be in those conversations, but I know there are countless pages to be ploughed though before I can have my share of the debriefing chats. And sadly, I don't make the effort.

So I didn't start my reading career with Lord Of The Rings, or Harry Potter. I started with a book I bought months ago. From one of the many wonderful blogs I read here each day over tea and toast. I've been always meaning to read it. Then last week I finally picked it up.

I have laughed out loud, been totally engrossed, cried, looked forward to getting things done so I can snuggle up on the couch and find out more of this real life story. Which I have related to a great deal through my own body image, and weight loss story.

Dietgirl is a treasure. An encouragement. She has inspired me to write, and to read, now and always!

Do visit her blog. Shauna is a fantastically witty, gifted, and clever writer both in this book and on her blog.

I am on a bit of a literary high now after finishing the book tonight, my eyes are wide open as I am suddenly noticing all the novels and biographies in Jamie's bookshelf as books "I" might read... I have graduated! I am a reader! I need to have a badge made! And I need to ask a question to all you learned friends out there - what do you suggest I read now?

Songsmith {booksmith?} xx

Frantically Wonerful

It's been one of those frantically wonderful weeks. I have been glued to the computer screen trying to finish the new Tullys website, two of my babies have had Birthdays - so I have done nothing but bake goodies, blow up balloons, and ponder with disbelief that Campbell is Nine, and Tara is Four. Where have such years gone?

But they were wonderful.

I can hardly believe it was in the year 2000 that I was given Campbell Maurice Tully. I never could have imagined what a gentlemen and a true Prince Charming he would become. I am honoured to be his Mother, and now need to be excused so that I can go and do some of that sentimental crying Mothers do, from time to time, at the end of frantically wonderful weeks - wowed by where such years have gone...

{sniff}

Shell xx

Three Boys & a Girl...

In Pictures...

Shell xx

Frames from paradise...

Just a little less often then perhaps I should, I take a look up from what I'm doing to find that paradise abounds me...

The view from 1930's Deco cottage hallway, through to Winter bright afternoon sunroom suddenly overwhelms me {and Delilah, the cat}. I reach for my camera.

A little later I rush outside before dark to snip some winter florals and freshly growing parsley. I wonder as I am at the front of my house near the street light, will anyone think I'm stealing these flowers under the apparent cover of early nightfall? But there is nobody. Because here in paradise the peace is hardly ever disturbed...

I make dinner, we eat it, I clean up.

In a tired heap I sit down to read a little of my book, by now the daylight is long gone and the only place to be is by the glowing, crackling fire. Only a few chapters later I realise I need to get baking before Tara's Third Birthday Party tomorrow... I enjoy the methodical, reliable and also creative aspects of baking. Turning real butter, flour, Caster Sugar, Buttermilk and Free Range Eggs into delectable treats for my family tomorrow.

It is nearing midnight, but I feel bright and deeply involved in my late night paradise.

The night is technically over and apparently it is early morning, the house smells fantastic! Everybody else is asleep and I just feel reborn with that illogical late night energy! Paradise is now the smell of a Birthday cake baking in one oven, and the second batch of cupcakes nearly finished in the other. Sunroom now smells like Jonquils, and looks like a Birthday paradise - I hum "Ninety-Nine Das Luft Balloons" as I go to bed.

Only a few hours later there is life in paradise once again. Pancakes are cooking and the carefully selected gifts are deemed a success by my toughest critic!

The shiny pointy hats, bubble blowers and other little bits of Birthday paraphernalia that I have picked up in the last few weeks have all come together like a cohesive "thought out" planned event!

I make thirty cups of tea, and spend the morning convincing people to have more cake. I smile and joke with everyone and all in all it's a lovely affair!

Later I remember to reflect on that perfect baby I was given three years ago, today.

How little I have slept since she, or in fact any or my babies were born, and yet, they are the life in me. My heart beats parallel.

My thoughts are on theirs, even when I'm sleeping. They are my little songs - sweet melodies we have been entrusted with, to love and to teach how to sing...

I think back at these frames from paradise and think about how they're mine because of a combination of two things - which I believe everybody has been given:

Blessings from the Lord above; and, the choice whether to see and nurture them, or to close one's eyes and live in the dark with such gifts unseen and unspent.

It has taken me many years to open my eyes. To look up from the small frames of thought in my head and see paradise. To count my blessings. And spend them well.

Shell xx