Dirty Flowers & Clean Mops

It’s day 12. Things are getting done; correctly. My skin is starting to show the signs of increased blood-flow and oxygen. The crap in my lungs is starting to loosen. My sleep is beginning to be deep and peaceful. My body is pushing my mind to think faster and craving  a bit more food. My thirst for water seems unrelenting. It’s all good. I can even crack a smile at the pleasure of my body, mind and spirit awakening as it grinds to the sounds that instruct so seductively when I dance my day into being.

The fresh winter air brushes over my nipple rings. It’s soothing; kind of like the sensation of ice dripping onto your skin after candle wax has alarmingly aroused it with heat. It feels sexy!


The Panther in me prowls.

I stand in awe of the mercy of God/the Universe/Karma. It’s been 8 days into the new month and I am 1/3 of the way of catching up after the carnage of self-loathing near destroyed me. I am equally in awe of the forgiveness of my clients who see past my struggle with recovery and encourage me towards wholesome growth. Perhaps, rightly or wrongly, I shouldn’t be as open as I am with them, but it’s the only way I know recovery actually works. It’s golden rule is transparency and honesty. And to be honest if others trust their image in my hands then the least I can do is be open about myself too. Besides, I actually don’t know how to be different. I couldn’t be ‘mum’ , except for the vulnerable secrets of others, if I tried. 

I wrote a piece called ‘Dirty Mops & Pretty Flowers’. In it I spoke about truthfully loving one’s spiritual journey. I woke up this morning and had a sense to chat about its counter opposite.

For years I was a ‘Dirty Flowers & Clean Mops’ kinda human. What I mean by this statement title is this…..

I tried to represent to the world that I was fine but underneath I was dying. My resentment, mistrust and anger brewed. I dressed nice,  smelled nice, and even spoke nice but underneath the rage made my heart loathe everything around me. The interesting thing was that I kinda digged it. I had a secret and it belonged exclusively to me. I was a Dirty Flower.

Even though I hated the consequences of my actions I, because of fear of being judged, never changed a thing to get better results out of my life. My spilled milk just kept spilling and my mop stayed clean.

It was only when a friend told me a sentence that has turned me right side up since, have I been able to try undo the mess I had gotten myself into.


God/ the Universe / Karma keeps giving us the same lesson to bash our heads against until we have learnt it.

My progress has been slow but in motion. Years of self-loathing doesn’t undo itself easily. And perhaps it is the personal journey we all have to conquer for our entire lives. 

It is easy to dress up a mannequin, it is less easy to make it come alive!

It’s been 13 years of me struggling to overcome my self-hatred. Even though I am only in my pubescent years of my spirituality I am beginning to pull out the things of myself that are authentic and true.

Spirituality and Reality are one in the same thing. They mimic, reflect and merge into eachother much like our DNA chain. Everything is separate but integrated and one cannot exist without the other.

So I encourage you this weekend…

If you haven’t yet gone on bended knee/ hugged a tree or whatever you feel is the honest thing in your heart to invite true spirituality into your life; do so.


Find the rainbow in you because it is a much needed one. Both for yourself, the world and for the artist in me. 



• AJB • 


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