A love poem
From me to me, from me to you, from me to all of us. A poem of self-love, maternal love, sisterly love, romantic love, the love of deep friendship. We're all just walking each other home. My love for you is not a crusade. It has no goal
From me to me, from me to you, from me to all of us. A poem of self-love, maternal love, sisterly love, romantic love, the love of deep friendship. We're all just walking each other home. My love for you is not a crusade. It has no goal
For Tommy I. In a medicine song circle on Friday night My left hand clutched my friend Sara’s right And my right hand rested on my belly Where no child was or ever would be. We sang soulfully of mermaids and rivers and stars To Luis’s gentle guitar
A fun maths question Imagine that you deal seven cards from a deck of 156, one at a time, putting each one back after making a note of it (and shuffling in between each deal). Then imagine that you shuffle the pack again, and deal ten cards off the top.
In the third round of breathwork this afternoon Open your chest, open your heart centre I dreamt you kneeling before me, hands on my belly, Mocha eyes shining and uplifted As we both felt Her slow miraculous cartwheel. Take a deep breath in and hold – The wide world smiled to
Note: I nearly didn't post this as it felt too much like preaching to the choir. But my tarot single-draw last night was The Hierophant, Reversed, the ethos of which is the ethos of this post, so... the universe has spoken. In my final Social Studies class of
A couple of days ago, alone on a hillside (sans goatherd), I found myself passionately sobbing out loud, “I love him so much”, while thinking of nobody at all. Ahh, I thought, when I had somewhat recovered, crying over men has become so habitual that the man no longer even
I’m on holiday in Arrowtown, Central Otago. My family has lived here for generations and I am always grateful to feel the land welcome me, even if this is the first time I’ve had words for that experience. I've been thinking a lot since I arrived
Woo level: 4/5 I was at an Ecstatic Dance event on Halloween at Bhakti Lounge, and this woman there appeared to be absolutely entranced with herself. You know when people are on MDMA and they touch themselves like they’re the most amazing tactile experience the world has ever
Woo level: 3.5/5 Today, for the first time in a while, I struggled for a long time to find my energetic connection to Spirit and the living things around me (which in my current worldview excludes... well, nothing, actually). On my walk/run home this evening up and
I thought I was good with rejection I've often told people I'm good with rejection. I genuinely don't mind asking out a stranger. They might say yes! They might say no in a sweet and obviously slightly regretful way! (The last time this happened,
Today we bide in the wrath and grief of Tāwhirimātea, broken by his parents' breaking. On Parliament Lawn the wind flows through the grass like water. I speak glory to my creator for making me tall and strong, that I may stand in this storm. Wood and brick? No,
Put your hand up if “self-care” feels like a dutiful task on your endless to-do list, a burdensome moral imperative of wellness and self-improvement, something that demands from you energy that you just don’t have. Me too, until a few months ago. Turns out I was doing it wrong.