The quiet life

I am writing a book for my daughters. I write about what I learn about love and about being a woman. I write about what it is like to love somebody. I don’t always know how to do it, so sometimes, I write about my mistakes, my hot tears, and my selfishness. I write about the secrets of happiness in love as I discover them, like sweet, glittering jewels in the dirt. I write about falling in love, falling out of love, and floating through love. 

I hope that if my daughters can learn just one thing from me, their mother, it will be how to love someone, how to take care of someone.

Lemon macaroons, a chocolate croissant and hot cup of coffee on a sunday afternoon. Flowers, yellow like the sunlight.

Blushing pinks, weeping pinks, dark hair and dark eyes.

Watching Lilu drink from the puddles in the cool, quiet, 5:30am morning. Lilu in the jungle.


Summer rain in the afternoon. Flowers at the windowsill. And a prayer written down for me from my dear friend. It reads:

There will never be a storm that can wash the path from my feet, the direction from my heart, the light from my eyes, the purpose from this life.

I know that I am untouchable to the forces,
as long as I have a direction, an aim, a goal; to love, to serve, to give

Strength lies in the magnification of the secret qualities of my personlity, my own character, and though I am only a messenger, I am me.

– Swami Satyananda Saraswati

Letters from my little friend. A piece of string. Drawings about life through her eyes.

Sweet puppy ready for sleeps in her Pajamas.

And Laura.

with love, malavika xo


  1. as always this post is very inspirational and positively charged – thank you!
    and the thought about a book for daughters is something I will reflect about – my daily routine to write a diary sometimes keeps me thinking – why I am doing this? and this could be a more focused approach with some better way to formulate things keeping “future readers” in mind – thank you again! Greetings from Riga, Signe

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