Monday, October 20, 2014


When you’re deeply sensitive, love is ecstasy. Music is godlike. 
Heartache is a wide, somatic wound. Visual natural beauty is jewel-drenched, wild bliss. Tension and conflict are muscle tightening and toxic, straight down to the cells. 
So how do you hold it all? 
You rinse, re-centre, and remain clear. 
You recycle your sensitivity by propelling yourself and others to create 
waves of change in a super starving world. 
Direct your passion by spreading your heart only across what clearly matters most. Surround yourself with the souls and spaces that groove alongside your own- 
the ones that also desire to chase the beauty, 
courage and freedom we’re all here to teach each other. 
Choose love over fear and let go of all the rest, 
breathing what isn’t best for you straight out of your bones. 
Remember-there is power in the body. 
Harness it for the greater good, and allow nothing confusing, 
peace disrupting, or hurtful stand in its way.

Victoria Erickson

Love is not an equation, it is not a contract, and it is not a happy ending. 
Love is the slate under the chalk, the ground that buildings rise, and the oxygen in the air. 
It is the place you come back to, no matter where your headed.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Then the feeling moves on. It does not collapse; it is not whisked away. 
It simply moves on, like a train that stops at a small country station, 
stands for a while, and then continues out of sight.

Michael Cunningham, from The Hours

the next moment

Thursday, October 9, 2014

Always say 'Yes' to the present moment. 
What could be more futile, more insane, 
than to create inner resistance to what already is?

Eckhart Tolle

a point of view

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding. 
Mutual confidence, sharing, and forgiving.

Ann Landers

Your successes and happiness are forgiven you only if 

you generously consent to share them. 

But to be happy it is essential not to be too concerned with others. Consequently, there is no escape. 

Happy and judged, or absolved and wretched.

Albert Camus, The Fall

Saturday, September 27, 2014

So often, I am moved by what others express in writing, 
and I feel the urge to share what I read.
With their words, I am either filled with a silent but immense Yes, 
that settles into me with a deep internal sacral click, 
like a puzzle piece falling heavily into place, or I feel a yearning down low in my soul 
— that softly drifting fog that I sense inside.
This soul, an intertwining light and dark mist I embrace; 
turning in slow circles, gently caressing the inside of me with lazy fingers, feels calm. 
Patient and content, compassionate and wise, faithful and exquisite, 
she watches with a knowing smile, saying, Follow me. 
It is time.

Kris Lord

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