Monday, 16 July 2012


I'm only posting because my mum told me to.

I don't have much to say because there is so much to say. If I really started writing, too many words would tumble out and mum would say Eden! Too many words! 

Probably not. She's proud of me and my words. All I ever wanted when I was a kid was my own proper typewriter. Finally for my 21st birthday I was given one but I was too busy drinking to be writing so I hocked it for forty bucks.

Sad when I walked out of the pawn shop and saw it already on display in the window. Not sad enough to buy it back.

It took me an hour to drink that forty bucks. I remember announcing to the bar, "Well, I just drank a typewriter!" 

The other day I sat at the top of a hill on a beach and plucked this leaf.

All of the lines coming out from the centre. I wondered if the lines were proof of the Divine Creator. Or if nothing ever really means anything anyway.

My two guys jumped and slid down that hill for a full hour as Dave and I watched. That's all kids need to be happy - a sandhill and their parents undivided attention.


I took this photo of the sky the other day, sure it was trying to tell me something.

My sister took this photo of the sky today, sure it was trying to tell her something.

Secrets everywhere.

Today I did a meeting. I shared about the fear of letting my son ride to the shops on his bike with his friends. I shared about how hard it was for me to say yes today. How I told him to look both ways crossing the street, to wear his helmet, to not get in any cars, not talk to strangers. To be home in an hour. Max rode down that street so happy. I watched him until he disappeared and I sobbed when I couldn't see him anymore because that's all life is.

A series of letting go.


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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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