Re-examine all you have been told. Dismiss what insults your soul. ~Walt Whitman I was raised in a sterile environment, a suburban, white, Catholic petri dish enclosed in an adiabatic autoclave where I was shielded from the influx of those radical concepts held by people ‘not like me’. Non-Catholics could enter heaven? Impossible! US Presidents […]
It was the only place in his world where he felt the air made way for him. ~Arundhati Roy There are physical places in the world, places unique to each person’s soul where the physical, mental, and spiritual are in perfect alignment and one feels the air part and the soul take over breathing, breathing […]
I cannot abandon the geography that feeds my every breath. ~Ellen Meloy Other than myself, I know of no person whose soul is defined by a particular geography…other than the author who has approached deity status in my life, the guru sprinkling words across pages first drawing me to Southeast Utah, the sensei who reflected […]
My soul, though, no one can really know about, barely even me, realizing not it is infinite. ~Rumi With each sentence I write, I scratch at the infinite complexity of a soul exposing another inkling of knowledge form a whole I can never know. I am a mystery to myself, a mystery revealed and concealed […]
I write because I don’t understand myself. ~Clarice Lispector Thoughts are flitting hummingbirds pollinating sister flowers portending the birth of fruit. They are a barrage of hailstones on a summer day, melted, evaporated, gone as if they never existed, a figment of an overactive imagination save for the one or two we collect and store […]
Listening to snow fall. ~Roberto Bolaño I wish I had the ability to attain a state of serenity so deep, I could hear the voices of individual flakes of snow falling thru the air, the serenading of a thousand snowflakes swirling in the wind, the cacophony when millions crash onto the ground.
Everyone you interact with is changed forever. The only questions are: How will they be different? and How different will they be? ~Seth Godin Her gray haired head bowed looking toward the concrete. Not in submission. It seemed too heavy for her neck, too heavy to hold upright. Perhaps, strength sapping hunger pulled it downward. […]