When the world seems to conspire against you, when the winds howl with a ferocity that shakes your very core, and the nights stretch on, cloaked in an impenetrable darkness, it is easy to feel lost. Time itself seems to rebel, each second dragging its feet, amplifying the emptiness that surrounds you. But it is in these very moments, when despair threatens to take hold, that you must find the strength to rise. To dance. Not just as a defiance against the void, but as a celebration of your spirit. For even in the vast expanse of nothingness, there is … Continue reading Dance of Life

I want to live in a house made of poetry. Each wall, each corner, each crevice would be a stanza, a verse, a line that sings to my soul. In the night, I would sleep under blankets sewn from poetry, feeling the gentle caress of words as they lull me into dreams woven from the finest metaphors and similes. My dreams would be a tapestry of poetic imagery, a dance of rhythm and rhyme. In the morning, I would bathe myself in poetry. The words would flow over me, cleansing my spirit and invigorating my mind. Poetry would seep into … Continue reading July 2024 – Living in a House of Poetry II

I’ve come to realize that I haven’t always been gentle around other people’s vulnerable wounds. My big ugly tail, the one I drag behind me, is my tendency to get self-righteous. When I see someone else’s big ugly tail, I make myself “superior,” casting myself as “right” and others as “wrong.” My ego, whom I’ve named Morgana Bells—the indomitable and often bitchy—convinces me that I shouldn’t have to tiptoe around someone else’s stinky wound. Yet, I’m learning that sometimes walking on eggshells around someone’s raw wound is the perfect opportunity to practice compassion and to demonstrate love. It’s a delicate … Continue reading My Big Ugly Tail