singing bowl
rosewater and tears
fingers pressed on tender skin
the xx
our union
burst of sandalwood
in moment of surrender
candelight
shimmering
a shower of sweat
and whispers of devotion
morning light
My things arrived today in a box from an address and handwriting I didn’t recognize. (funny that) A shirt I didn’t know he had, another shirt that holds fond memories, and the book, “Being Peace”. (and indeed I am) Remembering the good and letting the rest dissolve. Letting go. Wishing goodness. Being peace.
once, you were a sometimes painful but often happy memory a short run with a rich narrative now, you are a cruel joke in your contention you make a fantastic punchline
Yesterday, my mom told me I needed to learn to reach out more–to need more. She said, “Sometimes people want to feel needed (meaning her). You come off as someone who doesn’t need anyone. You’ve always been that way.” I thought about what that meant and if it was true. I thought about writing this….
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…
A voice keeps whispering, “Let the miracle happen.” So I am. And it is. I’m starting to believe in myself again. And the hurt has transformed into acceptance and wisdom. I see the road ahead of me again. And I see the blank canvas as exciting instead of overwhelming. The voices that have told me…
“I believe that national sovereignties will shrink in the face of universal interdependence.” ~Jacques Yves Cousteau One of my friends recently got a flat and posted something on Facebook saying she needed to learn to change a tire. I responded by saying, “I can teach you. It’s easy.” A mutual friend said I needed to…