We’ve all messed up. We’ve all failed. We may not all have the same stories, but we all have backpacks. This journey has helped me to be thankful for my backpack. To be thankful for the tears and the hardships and the challenges.
Do not give into believing the lies that love is always romantic, orgasms are always easy, and that problems are solved at the end of a twenty-two minute segment after an orange juice commercial. This is real life.
That you can stand and look at yourself in a mirror and see your goodness right there, see the worth of what you bring on the surface of your skin, just like I do. That you trust there is brilliance to come. That you own what is yours to own, both the bad and the good. That you do not insist on ...
I am a judgmental person. Ironic. Because most days you can find me teaching peace and love.
Teaching forgiveness and non-attachment. Acceptance. But the truth is: I’m a total hypocrite.
I am incredibly judgmental. Let’s get this straight. I am an extremely hard worker.
Take five minutes each day to allow yourself to give something back to the world.
Whether it be through art, poetry, scribbles, or maybe total silence.
Take five minutes each day completely for yourself.
Unless you are too busy, in which case, take ten.
Somehow though, I always had that feeling that something was missing. Something that would complete things so I would be joyously engrossed in the moment, as opposed to doing things with an underlying sense of uncomfortable self-awareness.
I could tell you that I get scared sometimes that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. That maybe I live in a magical land within my mind, dreaming up someone who doesn’t even exist. That maybe my standards are too high and my inner romantic is too hopeless and all of the days I’ve spent with ...
The strength and continuity helps us to believe in something grander than we are and yet… it could all be gone tomorrow -- or even in the next moment. This is where the wondrousness of life falls into our laps like a precious babe waiting to be fed while unknowingly feeding her mother’s soul.