This Slow Mind was born slowly.

a notebook open on a table with a coffee

I have always written.  I’ve written poems, letters, songs and journal entries.  I’ve written to express my experiences, to figure out decisions, to tell people what’s in my heart, to work through anger or grief – but I’ve always written.

As my life developed and grew and became fuller and I had less and less time, my need to write, even briefly, became stronger.  And my need to capture those moments which rose above the every day drudgery became also stronger.  So I found myself writing tiny snippets of impressions, which I firstly subtitled ‘Moments of Truth’ tucked away as a file on my computer.  Just whenever it occurred.  Sitting on my balcony.  Watching a storm.  Whenever some moments ripped me from my every day into a sense of translucence where time stood still.  Trying to breathe the essence of that moment into a jar and screw the lid on tight before I lost it.  So every now and then I could look through my jars and realise that not every moment is about washing dishes or getting to school on time.

Gradually I realised these tiny files were growing more plentiful and gathering virtual dust on my harddrive, and so the idea of creating a blog to showcase these moments was born.  Through the first pregnant ideas phase, growing to nearly bursting and through to the pains of labour, eventually these pages were born.  Somewhere along the way I found that someone had finally coined a phrase to name what it is I write.  Micro-memoirs.  Tiny snippets of life.

They are not perfect.  They are barely edited.  They are sometimes raw, sometimes sad, sometimes elated, sometimes poignant, sometimes angry.  Just like all of us are, sometimes.  I hope when reading, flicking or perusing through these pages, you’ll find something which connects, which uplifts, which provokes or which soothes.  Or all of the above.

Perhaps you’ll find some resonance here, and perhaps not.  Let’s see.