May you claim your own soulfully softened identity, and may you demand to be called by the names you have given yourself. Tell the world who you are, and those who are worthy of your company will believe you.
Without any effort at containment, I hurtled over the back-jacks and pounced on top of her. In a soulbeat, we were undressed and writhing madly on the temple floor. The Buddha was aghast, as we attached, desired and clung our way to God.
Grace finally comes. Not in a peaceful, quiet hush. But in the arms of panic attacks and the inability to pretend to have it together for one more fucking second. Who knew grace would show up like that?
Figure out what specific thing that’s killing the planet is killing you, and move towards that. Or, you know, if it’s alcoholism or homelessness or not just something environmental. Get involved in a cause that connects you to others…