Author Archives: Pauline Small

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About Pauline Small

After a long and varied career in teaching, I am now able to pursue my other love - writing as a form of exploring the depths of life's experiences. I live in South Australia, in an ordinary house in an ordinary suburban street, which is where the extraordinary happens every day.

Taking the Risk to Show You More.

Last night I was privileged to share in an evening with Rosemary Wanganeen, who works in grief counselling in Adelaide. That sentence nowhere near expresses what Rosemary is and what she does. She is a proud Aboriginal woman, who has … Continue reading

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Red and White Crockery. Again.

  My mum was a beautiful dressmaker. It was a necessity in the circumstances of life, but she enjoyed it so much that she studied pattern drafting and garment construction, and made clothes that were really an art form. Once … Continue reading

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Pondering, waiting, going deeper.

A Reflection given on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Sunday. 6th July 2014. Each time I read the selections for the coming Sunday, I fail at first to see the connections they make to the life we are immersed in. … Continue reading

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Is There Any More?

Is There Any More?.

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About seventeen years ago I was in a class, in which we were asked for our immediate personal response when the lecturer wrote on the board Death. I don’t recall too many of the other responses but most of them … Continue reading

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Sharing Is A Privilege.

It has been such a sad hard week. We have seen the rich and powerful once again take back control and take their revenge on those who briefly shared the sun with them even to a small degree. It is … Continue reading

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Hope In A Very Hard Place.

One of my biggest joys is writing. It is the means of releasing my heart on to a page, and letting insights form.  I can’t draw or paint, I love to sing but need a choir around me to keep … Continue reading

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Caught Unawares

Sometimes a new shift in our apprehension of the world can come in a manner that tips up all expectations in the most surprising, sometimes almost ridiculous way. The disruption to the pathway of our thoughts can act as a … Continue reading

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On Walking Frames and Love.

It was Tuesday, my nice quiet free day of the week. I was just walking through our newly renovated shopping centre, when I heard a woman shouting loudly, angry and distressed. As I looked over I saw two security guards … Continue reading

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The Song Of The Feathered Bird.

The Song Of The Feathered Bird..

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