Reflections

I used to think ravens were against me.
They always showed up when something felt off. I took it as a curse.

But today they guided me away from traffic, calling out turns I shouldn’t take.
Their presence wasn’t punishment. It was protection.

Maybe they were never the bad omen.
Maybe I just didn’t want to hear their bad news.

I walked outside and saw a bee drift past.
Said “hello” out loud, half a joke.

Then came a buzz right past my ear.
Maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was saying hello back.

Sometimes connection isn’t about words.
It’s about noticing what replies when you speak to the world.

It felt like I took the sunshine with me today.
Each place I arrived, the clouds broke apart.
Grey skies turned clear. Heavy air lifted.

Maybe the sky does change with us.
Maybe light follows where it’s felt most.

Joy can travel.
It leaves every place a little brighter than before.

We hit the crossing button more than once.
Like the lights will notice our urgency.

It’s the same instinct that makes us reload pages, check messages, or circle back to things already set in motion.

We can’t stand still, even when stillness is the only move left.

What are we really trying to hurry?

At the supermarket I spotted a free checkout.
No line, no fuss. I walked up, the operator smiled, and I was out in minutes.

On the way out I passed a queue of people waiting for the self-serve.
They’d chosen more work, slower progress, because that’s what we’ve been trained to do.

Sometimes the easier path isn’t hidden.
We’ve just stopped looking for it.

A magpie dived at a scooter today.
Wings flared. Beak sharp.
The rider never flinched.

One committed to attack.
The other committed to moving forward.

We call it defence, instinct, survival.
But often it’s just noise colliding with presence.

Some things only have power if you give it to them.

Keep moving forward.

I sat in public waiting for friends. Normally I’d hide in my phone, filling the silence, avoiding the awkwardness of just sitting there.

But the sun was warm. People were moving. The world kept going without me doing anything.

And that was enough.

Not every pause needs filling. Sometimes it’s better to notice what’s already there.

Lorikeets are the F1s of the sky.

They flash past in a burst of colour and sound, faster than you expect, gone before you know it.

If you hear them, don’t wait. Look up. Notice.

Some things are only magic if you’re present enough to catch them.

On a climbing wall, falling isn’t failure. It’s part of the climb.

Everyone drops. No one points and laughs. You just get back on the wall and try again.

Failure in public is lighter than it looks. Fear is what gives it weight.

Anxiety says don’t try. The wall says progress comes through falling.