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heart and soul life lessons

Finding Light in Everyday Moments

I recognise that when we are in the depths of struggle, advice can sometimes feel dismissive or simplistic. So, I approach this thoughtfully: Could it be possible that within our toughest moments, there might be light that, when we’re ready, could help guide us toward healing or understanding? Could it be that every moment eventually shines in some way?

When Pain Becomes a Teacher

I know what you’re thinking: “How could my pain possibly be a gift? Imagine being hurt by someone you trusted deeply. Think about the confusion that followed, the way broken trust impacted your life. Consider how, for a period of time, the pain gripped you tightly. But now, as you look back, can you see how that pain might have shielded you from continuing in unhealthy or insincere relationships? Can you recognise how pain, in its harsh way, might have led you to a path of self-discovery and growth?

I believe at times, experiences that initially seem devastating can ultimately reveal themselves as profoundly beneficial. It might not be apparent immediately, but hidden within these challenging times often lies something significant. 

Stepping away from difficult environments enabled me to forge more genuine connections and gain a clearer understanding of my identity and true needs. Tough chapters, turned out, to be steering me towards a more authentic narrative. Some might call this grace, finding unlooked-for goodness in the trials we face.

Letting Go to Grow

Releasing what we hold onto—whether it’s people, places, dreams, or even our own expectations—can be one of the most challenging things to do. I’ve had to let go of more than I ever thought I would. But here’s what I’ve discovered: Each time I let go and face the deep sorrow of losing what I cherished, I find that I am gradually making space for new understandings and connections that reflect who I am becoming.

For example, When I was young, I had to say goodbye to someone I cared about deeply, which seemed unbearable at the time. But in hindsight, that goodbye saved me from a future filled with complications and hurt that would have been much worse. It opened the door for new opportunities, new relationships, and new growth. 

Through this experience, I began to realise that letting go of what I think I want might just help me find what I truly need. 

Finding Light in Everyday Life

Sometimes, the good things come in the most ordinary packages. I remember a time when I didn’t get the creative recognition I was hoping for. At first, it felt like a setback, but looking back, I see it was sparing me from exposure I wasn’t ready to handle.

Little exposure pushed me towards genuine creative connections.  It forced me to sharpen my skills and work on myself. Most importantly, it led me to true supporters, the people who deeply appreciated and resonated with my work. 

Sometimes, grace is found in what ‘doesn’t’ happen — like a seemingly failed venture. It might be hard to hear, but sometimes, what we miss can protect us.

Trust in the Unfolding of Things

Here’s a thought to consider; perhaps grace doesn’t align with unhealthy habits or attachments. It seems to partner with wisdom, taking a long view that prioritises our health over our desires.

Life offers wisdom, and wisdom doesn’t always give us what we want — it gives us what we need to grow healthier and stronger. Maybe sometimes, it saves us from ourselves — from our own ambitions, attachments, or dreams that are actually holding us back.

Wise Words About Suffering

I know what you’re thinking, “where is light in life’s darkest moments—like war, childhood deaths, or profound suffering?’ Well having never experienced war, or horrific circumstances I can only quote someone who has, Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, who wrote, “In some way, suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice.” 

Frankl believed that even in the face of unimaginable horrors, there is the possibility of finding a sense of purpose or meaning that can transform suffering into something bearable, even redemptive.

Following Light, Finding the Way

Here’s a thought that might resonate: Perhaps life doesn’t always make sense, and it certainly doesn’t always feel good, but maybe there’s a way it nudges us toward light, even when we can’t see it ourselves. 

Maybe grace is real and is working in ways we don’t fully understand, slowly helping to reconcile our hearts and minds, tending to the parts of us that need healing, and quietly guiding us toward a purpose that fits who we are becoming.

Maybe we fair best when we believe that every moment, every situation, holds value and even in the hardest moments, there is light to be found. Sometimes, all it takes is a shift in perspective to see the good that are right in front of us.

Maybe looking for light in unexpected places, although challenging, isn’t engaging in toxic positivity, but rather embracing the complexity of life with honesty.

Maybe allowing ourselves to acknowledge the pain we feel while remaining open to the possibility that there could still be moments of grace, growth, or insight hidden within is a good way to live.

if you're looking for brightness
Categories
Books Creativity Publishing

 AI Interviews Me About My New Book ‘If You’re Looking for Brightness’

Just for fun, I decided to let artificial intelligence pose questions to me about my new book, ‘If You’re Looking for Brightness.’  Here are the questions AI asked (written in bold) and my personal responses:

 ‘If You’re Looking for Brightness’ explores the deeply resonant theme of  finding light. What inspired you to write this collection, and how does the title reflect the themes within your book?”

I think one of the major lessons I’ve learnt over the last five years is that you can find light almost anywhere. When I say light I mean more than just brightness. I mean truth. I mean clarity. 

I’ve experienced deep confusion, cognitive dissonance actually, which means I’ve suffered mental discomfort and tension through holding two or more opposing beliefs. For me, this uncertainty was sparked by conflicting ideas about trust. What was being said and what was being shown were inconsistent.

The book’s title is a call to all those who need to find the light in their experience. In it I share the four places where light seems to radiate the most, in love, in pain, in living things and within my own heart. 

Are there any poems that hold special significance to you?”

Every piece has a backstory. But if I had to choose one off the top of my head it would be ‘De- (a prefix meaning intensive) Light’. It’s a piece about noting the sublime experiences in our lives and using good memories to illuminate present darkness. Let me share it with you.

‘De- (a prefix meaning intensive) Light’

i.

Love likes to catch us off guard.

ii.

At the age of thirty-something I found myself
singing to a crowd under a mock-up trojan horse
on the edge of the Dardanelles Strait in Turkey.
Ever since that day, I keep asking myself,
‘Did that really happen?’

iii.

I was once crowned
the ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’.
It happened when an actor,
dressed as a knight,
picked me from an arena of contenders
one surreal Saturday at Medieval Times.

iv.

In my teens I wrote to an organisation.
They put my note in their newsletter.
In those days nobody needed permission.
When I received my copy,
I read it continuously; astonished.
My words on their paper.
My thoughts in other heads.

v.

Consider the sublime, moments when
reality feels like a dream, and tell
your tired heart to stay open to surprise.

Your manuscript frequently references light in natural settings. Can you talk about how nature contributes to the healing process described in your poems?”

I grew up in church. I belonged to a ‘twice on sunday and multiple times of week’ kind of family. We were real deal ‘churchies’. Inside the church I found a community that championed me. Encouragement was part of the infrastructure. As a child and teen there was nowhere else I wanted to be.  It was my safe place, where I genuinely felt known and loved. 

Fast forward to 2015: I’m 37, with three kids, and my husband is an executive pastor who has been working at the same church for 16 years. Suddenly, despite ten years of repeated promises of succession, he was made redundant. This decision was intensely confusing to me and so I sort to respectfully ask questions, to which no one could or cared to answer.

As a result, I started to ask other questions about the church and the doctrine I had been taught. I felt drawn to a more contemplative approach to my faith. Instead of gathering in buildings, attending services, or participating in the routine of church activities, I began seeking spiritual practice elsewhere, mainly because the original practices were triggering and felt disingenuous to observe. I went to beaches, walked through the bush, or sat by the lake and found nature far more healing than singing or sermons.

Could you describe your creative process when writing this book? 

Everything I write begins with a seed of resonance—whether it’s a quote, a word, a story, a memory, or an emotion. Once I have that seed, I start writing (with pen and paper), imagining how to convey what I want to say in as few words as possible. I visualise the shape of the piece on the page and how it connects to the themes of the book.

Next, I rewrite the finished poem onto a loose piece of paper, editing as I go. These loose pages are then arranged in a carefully considered order and typed into a Word document for further refinement.

Finally, I format the book in InDesign. Of course, more editing follows until I feel it’s time to set it aside and return with fresh eyes. After a few more tweaks, and when I finally feel ready for the world to see it, I publish.

What impact do you hope ‘If You’re Looking for Brightness’ will have on its readers? Are there specific feelings or revelations you aim to evoke?

I want ‘If You’re Looking for Brightness’ to illuminate the space where readers are. Whether that be in a place of despair, a season of loneliness, a state of disappointment, or a moment of uncertainty. 

The subtitle, ‘Finding Light,’ is as clear as I could put it. I want readers to find the light they need or at least by reading where I found it, know where to look in their own lives.

Lastly, what were some of the challenges you faced while writing this book?

Firstly, having to write a lot of “crappy” poems before finding a little gold. The process of sifting through words and drafts felt daunting at times. There is nothing more discouraging than encountering your own incompetence. Every person who seeks to write a book must continue to believe they can write the work that is in heart, even as their own writing insists it is beyond them.

Second, writing about light itself proved tricky. It’s an abstract concept when not referring to its physical properties.  I had to find ways to ground those abstract ideas in tangible experiences.

Finally, visiting painful narratives was a real challenge. In the section titled ‘The Light in Pain,’ I had to face my own unresolved questions, especially when those who could have provided answers chose not to. It was difficult to frame a narrative that made sitting with these difficult experiences not only bearable but also illuminating.