Reading, Listening, Yearning

Reading, Listening, Yearning

Reading, Listening, Yearning

  Finding energy lately has been pretty hard, a lot of it was spent on worry, looking after children and hoping and dreaming on a new home outside of London. I’ve managed to catch up on some reading, zilch writing but dreaming even if it’s all so fuzzy, I still manage to do it albeit tinted with much frustration and anxiety. It does seem to take me a long time to do anything, it took me over a month to answer a list of questions a fellow writer sent me on motherhood and creativity but I eventually managed it. It

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HAPPY BRAVE NEW YEAR

Happy new year! I hope this irregularly mild holiday season was met with family warmth and laughter that has kept your inner fires warm enough to get you through these ice laced mornings and evenings. I don’t write resolutions as mentioned before but I have picked a word to loom over me, it is BRAVE. I endeavour to be braver in everything I pursue, be it hunting for a home and delving deeper into work like a bear nuzzling into a cave but that’s not the right analogy as that doesn’t sound brave but cosy. So maybe what I should

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IF YOU SEE ME ON THE STREET

I’m a juggler without any experience. A tightrope walker without a pole. A lion tamer without a back up distraction. I’m a parent. I’ve joined a very special circus; it’s made up of family; the one that made me and the one I have made. The only difference is, people don’t pay me to watch. But eyes are cast upon our act everyday. Even the ones that try not to watch. We’re all watching each other act. Some with a clear plot and others carefully improvising along. We’re all improvising. We’re all falling and most of us are acting out

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FINDING MY PLACE

FINDING MY PLACE

I can’t really be called a blogger anymore, I simply don’t blog. Blogging has morphed into an entirely different creature, It can be hard sometimes to differentiate a blog that is trying to sell you something subtly or blatantly.  There are many out there , lifestyle blogs are guilty of this the most, that seem to be desperately trying to help you live a different life, somebody else’s life. Even posts about unveiling the rose tint, are tinted by roses. What exactly am I trying to say? Well, quite simply, I suck as a blogger but the writer in me

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WOW FESTIVAL , SOCIAL MEDIA & A DASH OF LIFE

WOW I have so much to write, yet I am unsure as to how coherently I am able to put it down. I want to begin with a few words on the WOW festival which my sister and I went to last month and I have to say it was an eye opener and I certainly plan on going next year. One of my favourite talks was called Who Owns Your Body in which an array of subjects from public breastfeeding (not allowed in America- what the hell) S&M, 50 shades of grey to the portrayal of women in music videos

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AN ORDINARY SUNDAY, AT THE FARM

What a sublime nose dripping, finger numbing, eyes streaming, chilly day.  Each sense was opened and each used breath could be traced out of the nostril and mouth in a plume of vapour. The day was filled the mother toddler song, ” please put your bobble hat on, it’s collllllld” and in reply was “no pleaaase” and sometimes she did, sometimes she didn’t. We moved our feet through thick mud with enjoyment, something I never grew out of. In one moment there was rain, the next exhilarating cold then a flash of sunshine. Once our fingers were beyond numb and

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LATELY

Happy New Year! Or is that old already!? Doesn’t matter, I still wish you it. I hope you’ve had a lovely holiday and managed to spend some quality time with loved ones as that’s what it’s all about even though my entire family except Ayla thankfully, came down with this god awful bug doing it’s rounds, we were all ill within loving company! probably how it passed through to each other. As you can see. I’m not a regular blogger, I find it impossible to find the time to keep it up the way I did before Ayla came along,

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PLANS & HOPES & ALL THAT’S IN BETWEEN

I disappeared again. Did you notice? Of course not! why in the world would you, you have your own lives to live! And just like you….possibly, I’ve been working hard trying to raise a citizen of the earth, and hopefully getting it right! I’ve done a little writing here and there, but mainly trying to focus on my little ones early years! She’s eighteen months old by the way! yup! I’ve been focusing on trying to make sure my little one has as much autonomy as possible and the confidence to have trust in herself as I am convinced these

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A POEM WRITTEN BY ZEHRA MUSTAFA AT 22 REMEMBERED 7 YEARS LATER ON THE NIGHT OF THE HONEY MOON

I was sitting here at my desk, window stretched open to its widest yawn, watching the trees on the horizon for the tiniest movement in the hope of the ghost of a breeze, but tonight, the night of the Honey Moon, there isn’t one. As I set about to get on with some work (that novel) the damnedest thing happened, I remembered a poem I wrote a long time ago. A pledge in a way, to write. I suppose my inability, be it a tired brain, shattered body but happy heart all owing to my sixteen month old, yes, sixteen

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THIS EARTH WAS MADE FOR TRAMPLING

“I must warn you, I’m not wearing a coat!” the husband cautioned me on Sunday morning as we prepared to leave the house and make our way to Mudchute farm. Having been raised in the North, he is of the ” you think this is cold!?” attitude and wears inappropriately little in cold weather. “Neither am I,” I replied, having flung all the windows open wide that morning. I bellow out “Sunshine! sunshine!” and woosh open the curtains with greater haste than usual whilst the husband walks through rooms without opening curtains. I’m someone who literally runs full steam ahead

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