Tag: dailyprompt

  • My Ideal Week: A Musical Passage

    Monday – The Overture (Maestoso)The curtain rises, and the score begins with steady, determined chords. Monday is planning day, where the motifs of the week are laid down. Meetings cluster like brass fanfares, decisions gather like rolling timpani. It is fresh and expectant, but also weighty—anticipating all that is to come. Tuesday – The Allegro…

  • Beyond the Podium

    When I think about the athletes I most respect, it isn’t the ones with the longest highlight reels or the most medals. It’s the ones who carry themselves with character—the kind of people who lift those around them, who strengthen a team rather than outshine it. Here are some who come to mind: These are…

  • How Do I Relax? A Soundtrack

    If you asked me how I relax, I wouldn’t begin with a chair or a cup of tea. I’d begin with music. My relaxation comes with a soundtrack, one that slows the pulse, deepens the breath, and makes time feel longer than it really is. Silence has its place, but music often does what silence…

  •  The Vague Jar

    I’ve decided I need a jar. Not for swear words, but for generalisations. Every time I say “that sort of thing” or “et cetera,” I’ll have to drop a coin in. It turns out I use those phrases more than I’d like to admit. They’re my linguistic shortcut, a way of sweeping a whole armful…

  • Dear Grudge

    You arrived the day I realised I had been deceived. At first, you came like a shadow, whispering every detail of the scam back to me: the glossy brochures, the lawyer’s smile, the promises of security. You reminded me, again and again, of the money that slipped through my fingers. You fed me images of…

  • Terra Incognita

    The furthest I ever traveled from home was everywhere.A round-the-world ticket—you can’t really get further away than that.I left with research in my bag and Duke Universityas my compass point. Duke was extraordinary.Magnificent buildings, gothic archesdesigned to look older than they were.Exceptional students and world-class teacherswalking polished halls that had been paid forby Methodist tobacco…

  • A Lantern in the Landscape

    My ideal home would not be a castle or a palace, but a lantern—simple, steady, facing north so the sun fills it each morning.A lantern doesn’t hoard light; it gathers it, then spills it out again.That’s all I’d ask of a home. It would sit close enough to bushland that walking feels natural,where I can…

  • A Tear of Joy

    I guess I am a teacher by nature.My whole life has been spent helping people grow—as a uni lecturer, a tutor, a pastor, an administrator.The settings have changed,but the heart of it has always been the same:to walk beside people as they discover their gifts,to watch them stretch, stumble,and finally find their stride. What brings…

  • Castles in the Sand

    Every morning, before the dog gets restless,before the world is fully awake,I sit down in the sandpit. That’s what blogging feels like to me—a place to play with words,to dig deeper into something that caught my attention:a sermon, a podcast, a story, a conversation.I turn it over in my hands like a shell,wondering what shape…

  • Fragments from a Conversation

    Interviews don’t always flow neatly. Sometimes there are long silences, sudden changes of subject, and words that trail into the air like smoke. That’s how it was talking with Wendy. Her story is not linear, not polished. It comes in fragments, broken sentences, and pauses that say as much as the words. What follows is…

  • How Am I Feeling Right Now? A Four-Way Conversation

    Mind: You’re fine. Okay. Manageable. But let’s be honest—today’s loaded. An 8.00am meeting, then visiting Mum after her fall and surgery. Lunch with our colleague celebrating citizenship—good, but another thing on the list. And don’t forget the student conversation after that complaint. Important, yes, but draining. Heart: Important, yes—but don’t turn everything into a task…

  • Tiny Hinges, Big Doors

    It’s the smallest things that open the biggest spaces in life. For me, it starts early. I wake while the house is quiet and write for an hour. The words don’t always come easily, but even the attempt fills me with energy and joy. It’s like oiling the hinges on my day — everything swings…

  • The Difference Between Grace and Guilt

    The last thing I searched for was an article called “The Broken Grace of Leonard Cohen.” I was thinking about Cohen’s views about God after a funny mix-up in conversation. Someone said that “Into My Arms”—the song about an “Interventionist God”—was Leonard Cohen’s. It isn’t. It belongs to Nick Cave. And while it mentions God,…

  • Looking Back at the Shows of My Childhood

    When I was a kid, I thought TV was just fun. Looking back now, I see it was also shaping how I laughed, imagined, and even how I thought about the world. If I sat my childhood self and my adult self together on the couch, here’s how the conversation might go. Get Smart Wacky…

  • My Favourite Time of Day

    My favourite time of day is now.I write these words at five in the morning. The animals are fed and settled,I am fed and settled.The inbox is cleared of clutter—the important messages waitingfor a later hour. Now the house is hushed.The world is still.And I write. This is playtime—my sandpit of words and ideas,where language…

  • Strawberry & Rhubarb Crumble

    I found the recipe years ago in a weekend newspaper, folded between the gardening pages and the travel lift-out. I didn’t know then that it would become part of the fabric of our life together. I clipped it, tucked it away, and soon it was bubbling in my own oven. The recipe is simple: 500g…

  • It Only Takes a Spark

    Excitement often comes like a spark—unexpected, bright, and full of energy. Recently, three sparks have lit up my life. A rediscovered spark. After nearly thirty years immersed in academia, I’ve returned to creative writing. It feels like a long-lost part of me has come home. This week I got news that one of my stories…

  • The City of the Future

    When you step out the door in this city, you don’t face traffic. You face a courtyard. Each cluster of apartments, terraces, or townhouses opens inward, toward a green square where people naturally meet. Streets and cars exist, but they’re pushed to the edges. The courtyard is the neighbourhood’s beating heart. During the day, children…

  • Once Common, Now Rare

    When I was a kid, Peter was everywhere. It was a widespread boys’ name — unremarkable, ordinary, as common as peanut butter sandwiches in a school lunchbox. In the classroom roll call there were always a few of us, and at sport you could shout “Peter!” and three heads would turn. My parents didn’t choose…

  • Telos

    I’ve often thought that what motivates us is not simply about the present moment but about where it all leads. The Greek philosophers had a word for this: telos. It means the goal, the end, the purpose toward which something is moving. Money has never been my telos. It provides comfort and security, but by…