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In. Out.

I never knew that presence would feel so much like fear. For years, I did online mindfulness courses, I read books, I practiced yoga and I meditated sporadically, counting each breath. In. Out. One . In. Out. Two . I tried to live my life as it unfolded, rather than in stomach-clenched anticipation of an unknown future. But the Ghosts of the Past and the Yet to Comes were still regular visitors, and I lost so many moments to what ifs and if onlys . Then you were born and I am now present as can be. There is no time to think about your future when you need me this second. And you always need me. Even when you are sleeping, I have to be beside you; your longing to hear my breath as deep as mine to hear yours, both of us only able to settle if the other is in arm’s reach. From the moment you arrived I haven’t been counting my breaths anymore; I’ve been living them. But it isn’t the freedom that I had imagined mindfulness to be. When I stare at your dark eyes, your button lips, the tiny c
Recent posts

My brother died

I stopped blogging years ago—it was so long ago that I didn’t even realise I actually still had a blog. I’d assumed that I’d deleted it at some point, or at least made it private. But no, here it is, in all of its glory. At first, I stopped blogging because my dad got cancer. That was, at the time, the hardest thing I had ever gone through. My words couldn’t do justice to the fear and uncertainty I was feeling, so I stopped using them at all. I began to get panic attacks; my world shrunk and I shrunk along with it.  Then, with therapy and medication, things got easier. They got far easier still when dad went into complete remission (he has now been cancer-free for eight years). I began writing again. Life was good again. And soon, life was so good there wasn’t any time for blogging. I was working full-time, studying full-time, and writing for a couple of different websites and magazines. I moved near the beach and began my PhD. I finally shook the anxiety that had plagued my life, and

the hard questions

It is often said that we ask far fewer questions about the world as we get older. That we settle into complacency and begin to feel less curious about this big, wondrous universe of ours. And in some ways, that’s true. I personally no longer throw a barrage of questions to those around me about every single sight, sound, touch and taste that I experience. However, I am also finding that as I age, I am starting to ask the bigger questions, and to ask them far more forcefully. When we are little we are quickly taught how the world works: the sky is blue, you cannot fly (trust me, I tried for years), if you do something bad you will be sent to your room, if you do something really bad you will be sent to prison, and that you should finish all of your vegetables because there are starving kids in Africa. But we are never taught why there are starving children in Africa, or why it is predominantly the poor and mentally ill filling our prisons. Instead, it is all told to us very m

five ways to make the most of traveling

No matter what part of the world you’re in; whether you’re breathing in the fresh scent of honeysuckle as the world blooms around you, or crunching your way through piles of leaves with a pumpkin spice latte in hand; no doubt you are starting to feel the travel bug come upon you once more. With the New Year approaching, a sense of anticipation is in the air. We are filled with a yearning to take more chances, learn new things, surround ourselves with like-minded people and explore every inch of this beautiful globe of ours. The time is ripe for exploration – both of the external world around us, and of our own complex and intricate internal world as well. And what better way to do that than to pack a suitcase and go on an adventure? Whether you’re planning to head to a different country, or simply go on a weekend road trip down to the beach, I have complied a little list of travel tips to take with you into the glorious new year that we’re all going to have. Go witho

intrinsic vs. extrinsic goals

If there’s one thing that anybody knows about me, it’s that I love to set goals. Love with a great big capital L. While I’m not entirely sure where I would be without them, having never actually given it a shot, chances are I would spend my days lying in the sun with a good book (by good book I mean re-reading the Harry Potter series for the 10000000000 time) and drinking my body weight in earl grey tea. Now on the surface that doesn’t sad bad at all (actually it sounds amazing), but as I get older I am starting to learn more and more about how vital it to nourish your mind, body and soul in a variety of different ways. While I usually reach the goals that I set in regards to my mind and soul, I have never quite gotten the hang of the body part of equation. It wasn’t until midway through this year that I realised why those goals weren’t as achievable at the others, even though they weren’t any more difficult: the intention behind them was not the same. Most of my goals are

Hi, my name is Kaylia and I am an introvert

Joel and I are finally saying goodbye to one-bedroom apartment life and are making our way on up into the world of houses and having room to breathe. In anticipation of our upcoming move, I have been going through all of my stuff and throwing out as much of it as possible in an attempt to curb the hoarder habits that I seem partial to. I have managed to keep the most random things over the years (post-it-notes, beer mats, weird little knick-knacks that I completely forgot about as soon as I shoved them into a drawer somewhere), and amongst this junk that I was certain was important when I stowed it away because ‘it holds memories’, I found my old diaries. While I never managed more than ten entries, I did start a new one every year from the age of eleven onwards, so it was interesting to see how I grew and changed up until my last diary at age fifteen. Of course by interesting I mean horrifying. I was not a very nice person at all, spending most of my time complaining a