All Posts By

Rach Walker

Diary entries

2018: Roaring Into The Unknown

 

The last post on this website was a bittersweet goodbye to a strong-minded woman who in her final moments became the softest I’d ever known her – my grandmother, nana, a warrior in her own determined way.

A lot has happened in the 9 months since.

I’ve posted more on Instagram, short diary entries, moments of falling, free-spirited dancing, tears, fears and the moments that just make perfect sense at the time, a series of ever-flowing lessons that sometimes punch me in the face before lovingly guiding me in a different direction. Here’s a brief overview of life in the time since:

I’ve played with this feeling of emptiness, a nakedness of sorts, that my small tight family unit that stretched its fingertips to encompass a few extras is now so much smaller from the loss of all my grandparents. It’s a strange thing, to look around and know that even though life ends, it continues as if nothing has happened, a kind of treadmill of sorts. I don’t want my life to be one that’s lived on autopilot, and having such changes in my life has shaken that belief to allow it to be a bit more louder, a bit more fierce.

I’ve started on the fitness stage of my self love, health, wellness and soul journey – grabbing a personal trainer to motivate me beyond my perceived limitations, trusting my body, trusting myself, and having a lot of fun in the process has been really powerful for me.

I’ve left jobs and started new ones, juggling three at the moment that separately fuel a different part of my being – the writer, the communicator, the healer, stretched my roots a bit further and found myself on private beaches, in solitude and inspired by life around me.

2018 is the year of me pushing the boundaries of my comfort zone, attempting to throw myself over the hill, ready to roll down the other side. It’s an all or nothing thing, a bit of a tug of war at the best of times, but one that is already freaking me out and having me fly, simultaneously.

At the end of last year, I began writing an amended version of a ‘bucket list’ – my ‘fuck it list’. I shared my idea with several of my closest friends and immediately the ideas started coming in:

 

“Post a tasteful nude selfie!”

“Get a tattoo.”

“Pitch an article to a magazine.”

 

And so forth. I chose the ones that resonated the loudest and added them to my list – one space is still open but that will be filled in the coming weeks. Things that may seem small to others, but push me closer to the pursuit of my dreams, free falling with a level of uncertainty in the process. My stomach flips a little just thinking about it, especially that little tattoo…

But that’s just it. I’m not here to live a half full life. I know that life, I’ve signed its papers, had the mundane tour and bypassed the souvenir shop. I’m here to scream into the night and twirl through the garden like a small hurricane, smiling along the way.

“Let it rip”, a beautiful friend told me a few days ago.

“You’re so sweet and open, but it’s a controlled sweetness. Let. It. Rip.”

So if that wasn’t invitation enough to roar into the rest of this year, then I don’t know what is.

And maybe, just maybe, sometimes that roaring will look like not much on the outside, but everything on the inside and that is far powerful than anything else I’ve done so far.

I can’t wait.

 

So much love to you,

Rach xxx

 

 

Diary entries

Please hold my hand: A sweet goodbye

Attraversiamo.

You crossed over.

Several weeks ago, you left. I held your hand tightly, afraid to speak too loudly in case you woke, aleaving you to feel the weight of your physical pain once more.

I wanted to be your saviour, the one who walked you to the water’s edge and then kissed you goodbye. I can handle this, I told my loved ones – It’s meant to be me.

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Diary entries

Attraversiamo – Let’s Cross Over

Attraversiamo.

She wants the ‘switch’ turned off. Her tired body is sitting in a chair facing the window, no fancy cords attached to her body like some kind of robotic machine, aside from a simple nasal breathing tube.

In front of her sits cups of water, juice and meal replacements all half full – or perhaps half empty. She hasn’t eaten in two weeks.

Stubbornness runs in this family of ours and she is no exception.

Why can’t the switch be turned off? It’s a theoretical question of course. We don’t yet live in a world where we can hold our loved one’s hands and say “I see your pain, you can let go now” and trust that will be the case. Instead, she sits and she waits.

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Musings

Soothe The Soul: Meditation Magic

I’ve always been the girl with a wild imagination, one full of messy chapters, endless drafts, flicking back and forth between the past, present, future more times than I can count. It’s creative, powerful and occasionally chaotic altogether, and it has seen me clumsily face-planting into a fair few ‘road blocks’ over the years, as well as crisp ‘aha’ moments where everything, absolutely everything, just makes imperfect sense.

Put simply, when I think, I think a lot.

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