WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW:

I have always been someone who feels the world deeply, yet sees it simply. From a very early age, I possessed a profound sense of my surroundings and an unwavering empathy for everything in it, from the people in my life, to the animals, the plants, and even my childhood teddy bear. I love to observe. I make time to truly experience the present moment and glean whatever new enlightenment life is trying to offer. My world is anchored and enriched by my wonderful friends, family, children and husband. I am constantly inspired and strengthen by those around me as well as sharing our home and our daily adventures with two extremely cute, loving, but utterly mad dogs.

While I have always found it perfectly acceptable to indulge in these whimsical zones of reality, my children have occasionally thought otherwise. Whilst now adults, we still fondly laugh about a particular walk through a forest on a beautifully warm, sunny summer day when they were young. The massive trees cast deep shade, but sunlight was slicing through the branches and reflecting perfectly on the forest floor. I noticed some small mushrooms growing in the dark wood, and I was completely enchanted. I wondered out loud what it must feel like to live in the dark and suddenly feel the warmth of the sun, a pure source of energy pulling you upward to stretch and grow.

Caught in the magic of the moment, I inflicted what was likely a deeply embarrassing directive upon my children: "Get down on the floor and curl up like a ball," I told them. "Now, imagine you are a mushroom or a fern, and you can feel the sun on your back."

I encouraged them to expand, to reach, and to truly feel what it was like to be that tiny, fragile form in the woods. Their response was swift and highly practical: "Yep, well, that’s great Mum... but can I get up now?" It was just one of many "Mum moments" where I veered off into a different reality, but it perfectly captures how I see the world.

Translating that vivid internal world onto the written page has not always been an easy path. I have lived with dyslexia, which made my formal education incredibly difficult and often frustrating. For a long time, the written word felt like a barrier rather than a bridge. Yet, here I am, approaching my sixtieth birthday, proudly publishing my very first book.

The Ode Room Publishing is proof that it is never too late to step into the light, stretch, and grow. I hope these odes encourage you to take a moment, look closely at the world around you, and perhaps, even if just in your imagination, feel the sun on your back.

Thank you for spending time with us at The Ode Room