A simple yes can change everything

Image by Clay Banks on Unsplash

There are so many books that I have added to my bedside table in the hope of inspiring my creative flow and provide new pathways into my imagination, the stack has toppled over yet again. Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes may not have been the most obvious addition, but it has inspired me more than any other in the last year to change my mindset and open myself up to new opportunities.

Shonda is the creator of a plethora of television shows. Shows that have broken boundaries of inclusivity and have changed the character roles that have been available…


Find the simple life wherever you are.

Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash

I can read all the self-help, empowerment, and spiritual books in the world and essentially, they all say the same thing. The same is true for the religions of the world… life is actually pretty basic at its heart, it’s just that we like to make things difficult for ourselves.

We know that all we need to do is treat each other well, and really not even well, just with respect, compassion, and empathy.

We like to make that difficult by imagining that other people are so different from us. We create lines in the sand, we separate into groups…


Can white writers create characters of color?

Tumisu on Pixabay

In response to my article ‘What Does Positive Representation in Fiction Really Look Like?’, a reader posed the question, is it okay for white writers to have a main character of another race?

As questions of representation and appropriation rise and fall in our cultural dialogue, it is of no wonder that we as writers are asking these questions and disagreeing on the answers.

To create a central character, we climb inside their minds and live and breathe them into existence. Can we do that if the characters have a fundamentally different experience and life than our own? …


There’s a society-wide abusive relationship. Let’s end it.

OpenClipart-Vectors on Pixabay

I’ve been stuck in a loop, thinking about the changes that haven’t quite happened. The movements that rise and fall, again and again, gathering momentum as the public voice swells, only to fizzle out like a birthday balloon with a tiny hole.

It mirrors an abusive relationship but it’s almost more disturbing. It’s an abusive lifestyle that we’re all a part of.

Whether I look through the eyes of a person of color, or as a woman in this culture, the view is the same. We’ve gotten so used to all the small infractions, all of the small microaggressions and…


a poem

Priscilla du Preez — Unsplash

Sing to me as I return to myself

Sing as I come home

Sing to me as I reclaim each and every scattered part

Sing as I rise

Sing to me as I remember the dreams and hopes that were the kindling to my internal fires.

Sing as I arrive

Sing to me La Loba

This process is slow and cannot be hurried

It is painful

I will lose as much as I regain

But when I reach the first plateau

The thrumming of my heart will be strong and proud

For I will be arriving as myself

Having been…


Blossom rain on a summer's day.

Image by Arno Smit on Unsplash

I distinctly remember being a child staring out of my bedroom window, watching the blossom trees on the small patch of green between the buildings of our council estate.

I remember wishing I could go down and lie under them as they showered me in soft barely pink petals as the breeze played with my hair. I fantasied about a garden of our own, and a house with stairs, as I sat in my window and imagined myself a Rapunzel trapped in a tower to which she didn’t belong.

Hundreds of miles and decades away, I’m back in the window…


May 3rd — 9th

Jon Tyson on Unsplash

Whether the ideas have slowed to a trickle or you’re just feeling curious and in the mood for a little reflection. Our weekly prompt is an invitation to ruminate on an idea and see what arises.

Be it poetry or prose you’d like to submit to us, or a journal entry for your eyes only, take a moment to pause at some point during your week and set your pen free.

Time

Is time always on your side?

Does it heal all wounds, or is it running away from you?

Our relationship with and how we…


by Madeline Miller

Bloomsbury Modern Classics

I said his name, I think. It blew through me; I was hollow as a reed hung up for the wind to sound. There was no time that passed but our breaths.

I found his hair between my fingers. There was a gathering inside me, a beat of blood against the movement of his hand. His face was pressed against me, but I tried to clutch him closer still. Do not stop, I said.

He did not stop. The feeling gathered and gathered till a hoarse cry leaped from my throat, and the sharp flowering drove me, arching, against him.


April 26th — May 2nd

Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash

Whether the ideas have slowed to a trickle or you’re just feeling curious and in the mood for a little reflection. Our weekly prompt is an invitation to ruminate on an idea and see what arises.

Be it poetry or prose you’d like to submit to us, or a journal entry for your eyes only, take a moment to pause at some point during your week and set your pen free.

The body

We all have one but we don’t all like our own.

What is your relationship with your body?

Has it let you down or have you neglected…

ADEOLA SHEEHY-ADEKALE

Writing on the female experience, race, motherhood & self-development. Columnist at The Green Parent magazine. Follow me on IG @adeola_moonsong.

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