Last week I attended my first ever poetry slam, which seems odd given my long-known love for the art. I never intended to perform and nor did I have a spoken word piece ready to share. But under the soft glow of the hanging lights in this East Melbourne bar, I found my voice. We were simultaneously in the heart of the city, and also left of the exact middle of nowhere. In that moment, it was just me and thirty strangers. We held space for each other, and respected the inbetween silences. They were as comfortable as a cat nuzzling into the nook of its favourite furniture. As I spoke, I could feel the emotion wash over me. My voice would crack at times as I relived the moment I wrote this piece and truly believed that I had found my person. And as I finished, I felt proud. Everyone clapped. I realised one indisputable fact that night, reflected through the eyes of my audience. And that is, all of us have experienced romantic dreams and unfathomable heartbreak. How comforting yet sad that is.
Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? 