I owe myself an apology
For all the times
I tore myself apart.
When I neglected my own needs
Lowered my standards
Berated myself
And put myself down.
For the self-sabotage
I continually inflicted upon myself
And the times when I apologized
For being
Ten Love Letters to the Earth
by Thich Nhat Hanh
CONTRIBUTOR BIOS
WRITER Thich Nhat Hanh (1926–2022) was a world-renowned Buddhist Zen master, poet, author, scholar, and environmental and social activist, who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Pri
Art by Melina Del Mar
I totally resonate with this !!
I release my parents from the feeling that they have failed with me.
I release my children from the need to make me proud, so that they can write their own ways, according to their hearts.
I release
There's a robin on my fence today,
A feather by my feet
A heart-shaped leaf that blows along
Beside me down the street
Your song played on the radio
This morning in the car
And just last night I could've sworn
I saw a shooting star
The sun and r
As we enter into the last week of the year
Take a few moments to look back
before you move forward.
Lovingly wrap the memories you wish
to take with you
and gently discard the moments you
would rather leave behind.
Spare a thought for the wond
Late in May as the light lengthens
toward summer the young goldfinches
flutter down through the day for the first time
to find themselves among fallen petals
cradling their day’s colors in the day’s shadows
of the garden beside the old house
after
The Tree
by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Art by William Stephen Coleman
The Tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown;
"Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down.
"No, leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown,"
Prayed the Tree, while
Art by Watercolours by Rachel
NO WAITING ROOM
What if you didn’t wake up tomorrow and your soul is watching down thinking of all the things you didn’t get to do yet because you were too scared, or too shy, or too worried about money. And all the th
The legend of Narcissus
The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.
The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to con
Art by @jenniferelson
For many, January is a hard, cold month…
When everyone is setting new goals, laying down righteous ground rules and striving to become a better version of themselves, some of us are fighting to find ourselves each day...
You s
"The Pilgrimage" , (2019)
Mixed Media by Lisbeth Cheever-Gessaman
"I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world right now. It is true, one has to have strong co
Don't fall in love with a woman who reads,
a woman who feels too much,
a woman who writes...
Don't fall in love with an educated,
magical, delusional, crazy woman.
Don't fall in love with a woman who thinks,
who knows what she knows and also k
Art: Brooklyn Swenson
“Something told the wild geese
It was time to go.
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered,—‘Snow.’
Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries, luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned,—‘Frost.’
All the
~ For World Bee Day ~
“Hush now.
The wounds run deep,
but the bees
are full of knowing.
They know the hive
of your heart,
each crooked curled chamber
each hopefully hidden curve,
each darkened holding cell.
They have come
with wings
and song
From a stone, I learned the art of remaining still.
From a river, I learned the art of remaining in flow.
From a falling leaf, I learned the art of remaining detached.
From a breeze, I learned the art of remaining gentle.
From a mountain, I learne
joy is being given
the secret of silence
after the hard lesson
and the heavy penance
joy is being driven
to relay radiance
and this way forgiven
for past indifference
§
TO THE WOMAN WHO THINKS SHE ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH
To the woman who looks around and wonders why everyone else is so much more capable, so much stronger, so much more ambitious than her.
To the woman who thinks everyone else is blazing a fiery path thr
Sleeping in the Forest
— Mary Oliver
I thought the earth
remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white
joy is feeling
looking upwards
skies enrapture
the sorry self
and its grievance
joy is seeing
looking westwards
social fracture
healing itself
from insurgence
joy is knowing
looking eastwards
proper culture
relieves oneself
from ignorance
jo
The level of culture
On the spiritual and cultural level, traditional matriarchal societies do not have religions based on a God who is invisible, untouchable, and incomprehensible -- but omnipotent -- and in contrast to whom the world is devalued a
