Woundmates are not to be confused with soulmates, which can also trigger shadowy material to the surface of consciousness, but are sourced in a more promising and fertile wellspring, one that fosters real growth and progress.
We all want to be led by the voice of wisdom that lives in our bones, we all desire to engage with life using the gift of keen intuition to connect us with realities that go deeper than what the naked eye can see.
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…