The battle is as old as Arjuna’s,
Who thought he was fighting his cousins
And their lust for power
But was really up against
The evil
Of his own apathy
My love is a chaos endured by a ritual of blood, sweat and tears... as a willingness to hold space for your tomorrow because you are unable to rise in your love today. Oh yes, such love is being brave enough to tattoo your soul with its higher vibration. Feeling it. Beyond rationality. Beyond ...
Have I become so comfortable in my discomfort, so accustomed to dying in my daily living, that I now embody a midnight mask to replace the false cheeriness of my childhood's plight? And what if I am not either or, but both, strands of black and gold that weave the web of my spider's heart?
The knife-edge teeth of the sharks -- who had once been their friends and accomplices in underwater adventures -- suddenly inspired fear. The midnight eyes of hawks and gulls -- who had once delighted the children with their dramatic displays of flight -- now reflected frightened stares. The ...
You cannot change anyone. You cannot have compassion for violent people unless you fully accept yourself. Before you can deal with anyone else without facade and masks, you must understand that the enemy is within.
As difficult as it is for me to admit, I also owe myself a debt of gratitude. Because I survived. I made my way out. I am still here. With my words and my voice and my truth. And those are things that can never be taken from me. I was forced to dig deep to find the resilience and perseverance I ...