My Love...we are ever aiming skyward...

The vacancy of the void is the very thing that makes us human. It propels us to find love. To remain searching. It slows the heart rate for rest and recovery. It reminds us we are alive. We feel. We feel the void.

The longing that still curls in stubbornly hopeful tendrils from your open wounds? These will be your roots, seeking through hard earth to find you exactly what you need to thrive. The grief that took you the ground? It will help form the bedrock of your eventual rise.

Self-love gets radical when mindfulness is incorporated into every decision and action being made that is not self harming but rather self growing.

Learning to love the past for its future.

I feel like I am struggling to go forward, but I don’t want anyone to know this or even sense this.

As if even in sleep you care more for that sweet resting moment between breaths, between taking only what you need and discarding the rest. As if even in sleep you are mindful.

When I wrote it, I wasn’t the same person that I am today. When I wrote it, I was someone that I hope I never meet again.

Confidence mixed with Humility, my friends -- if they served this cocktail by the pitcher, I’d get drunk over and over again.

Over the years, I’ve become a seasoned expert in the art of transient living. Or as the uninitiated might phrase it: moving.

"Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom." ~ Rabindranath Tagore

No longer was I willing to allow sickness and pain to obliterate love, kindness, and human nature. My new rhythm was changing me, healing me, bringing peace into my life.

The true essence of our religion is forgotten, Interpreting it to our own whim and taste. So full of ourselves, that even the messiah today would be conveniently ignored life lived in such haste.

I don’t want to fulfill my destiny, I want it to fulfill me.

i am the lion and you are the lamb and as prophesied, we will lie down together.

Our tiny vessel, We followed it in flight. Embracing. Dreaming of the night...

...His words stagger under the weight of their burdens One after another, they rush out of his chest A flurry of song sparrows and desert wrens— They nest in my hair, light on my shoulders Their mouths filled with twigs, red thread and seed beads

When the magic comes into your life, the goddess dwells in your heart...

If we are born as empty vessels and our parents are the first to begin the process of filling, we take these perceptions and store them away.

I was like a skydiver full of adrenaline and intense curiosity, wondering what's it like to jump out of a perfectly decent airplane just because you realize that you are not, and never will be, the pilot of this trip.

Healthy relationships and interactions are created through a combination of observation, communication, and the willingness to be vulnerable. Often, we do not feel confident and secure because of our fears and old wounds.

We've got an epidemic, people. A serious lack of empathy.

The truth is, the common denominator in all my failed relationships was me.

Was his life full, and filled with inspiration? Was his last thought accompanied by a smile during that last exhale? Was there a shadow surrounding him in those last moments, or was it light?

Starseed, I can hear you whisper. I can feel your hug in the crisp air.

There are two camps of thought on MAN-i-festing: 1. when you stop looking you will find it and 2. You have to approach it like a job and put lots of focus and energy into it. I think I've tried one, two and three. Three being I just live my life and if I meet him then great and if not then I rock my single-person status.

What about the notion of being able to let things go - to strip yourself of the need for the things that only drain you later on?

My words become a humming, an incantation of sorts. I am speaking to her heart, and sometimes her soul.

I am wrenched open from the inside. Pulling, tensing, staying, struggling, pushing, contorted and tearful until ultimately I am cracked open. Light begins to appear. Layers are peeled. I become the wave. I am taken.

I am grasping for an anchor, and yet drawn to the pure wild of the open sea with my heart wide open and exposed to the elements.

I haven’t cried though because it’s more fun to curse you and all of your celebrations -- especially your presumption that all beings who wish to buy food on a given day also wish to be reminded of you.

There are deep treasures within us all, and the more we realize our own, the more we can offer them to each other simply by living them ourselves.

Instead of looking for a mold to fit the dough, why don’t we knead the dough to fit the mold?

I began to imagine a different ending. I imagined plowing all that dirt onto my past and carefully arranging a riot of flowers on the mound left over. I imagined dancing around the grave, bare feet caked with mud, dancing and dancing until I dropped to the ground. It's OK to mourn the passing away of one part of our lives. It's OK to sit -- grief-stricken and alone -- wondering if we'll ever feel right again.

Another step in achieving love is demolishing your expectations. The only thing you should expect is love, a shit load of love that makes you feel like the queen of the world, and respect. That’s it.

We are here for one another -- we may not wish for an extended stay, but we can always visit when we need each other's company.

"People always think the most painful thing is to lose the one you love. In truth, the most painful thing is to lose yourself, and not even realize it until it's too late." ~ Charles J. Orlando

My husband and I committed adultery. He knocked on a woman’s door that was not ours; I opened our door to a man who belonged to someone else.

Once a silent child in your frilly dresses and bows in your hair, A teen wallflower, your beauty too deep for others to grasp.

The etheric menstruation of the universe is about to begin. Its abundant femininity cannot be ignored...

By Cara Perch. Flash of life and death,Pins and needles climb my scalp.Expectant silence. Limbs braid, spin skyward.My heart dissolves ina radiant burst of light. Compelled to let go.Body cast off like snake-skin;No lungs enclosing my breath. Stretching, expandingI fade; the final notes stillreverberating.   ***** Cara is a business writer by day, poetic wanderer by night, searching for her authentic voice through metaphors. She believes that metaphors help us navigate our own metamorphosis or enlightenment. By consciously putting the idea/concept/problem into another context, we are often rewarded by new insights and a sense of comfort. She writes at Explore Metaphors. ***** {More Rebelle...

I will bring you my heart. And I will open my outstretched body. And it will be perfectly imperfect, and strong, and hungry. And you will love it because it will be a beacon to you in times of uncertainty and sadness.

When your eyes roll into the galaxies of your mind who do you think of?

By meditating on how these dreams make you feel, you can find resonance in your daily life.

She didn't know that at night I'd creep out of my bed and let the moonlight guide me instead.

Love is what matters. Love is what breaks us and what builds us up. Love is the answer to every riddle.

The more she talks, the more you find yourself inexplicably sucked into a vortex. Your limbs begin to feel heavy. Her voice starts to fade, and it becomes impossible to pay attention. You might start to yawn; oxygen is a scarce commodity.

Bring me to my knees, and I will find one of the thousand ways to kiss the ground. I am that climber on top of the cliff looking down. I know I am ready to be lowered, but I am afraid to die. Because you and I both know -- we need to die to the old, in order to merge with the new.

Without any trace of insecurities from the outside world, you radiate the kind of beauty you could never have imagined.

And make all of it happen. Yeah, that stuff they said I couldn't. I'm up out of the hood now, I gotta stop hoodin' Ain't gonna torture myself no more with you I done did my time and I done paid my dues

In the real world reigned insecurity, loss, hidden grief, but with you I explored power, adventure and sensuousness; remember how we stroked each other’s arms, enjoying the tickling sensation, like puppies?

Inanimate objects written by you...

... sitting around and waiting to be found won’t get you very far. Waiting for things and people and times to change will leave you running in circles...

Another catalyst for worry is a disempowering relationship to time. Planning takes place in the present moment. Worry is based in the future.

Then I realized, it was Me! I was annoyed with myself! I was angry with myself! I was exasperated with myself! Then I was annoyed, angry and exasperated, that I was annoyed, angry and exasperated! YIKES! That is when awareness comes. However it makes its way in is always good. I believe when we finally have awareness there is no turning back.

Raise the bar and tend to people with an open mind, a full heart, and a soulful attention to detail.

Forget the endless cycles of birth and death. Forget that every moment lasts only until the exhale of breath.

The search reveals what was there the whole time...The Seeker is the gold sought.

The emptiness of life giggles more than ever, craving empathy, redefining the mere existence. Unhooking gowns to relieve madness of disappointment and hunger.

Love cannot be lost... ever. But can it be found? That is the real question that burns my flesh and sears tactile memories in my mind late at night. Can love be found, can it be had and held and known?

This must be one of those tricky interviews where everyone speaks in vague parables, while the underlying drift of the conversation is far more profound.

I know a boy who chases shadows...

Life is short. That is what matters. Love is fulfilling. That is what matters. How well you choose to love life and live loving – that is the true concern. So, let us live and love well. Let us be brave enough to be ourselves.

“Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions.” ~ John 3:18 What are you doing to my heart? Is love more than just a sweet emotional sentiment one offers to friends, family and partners? Or, is love more of an action, a doing, a behavior, a showing up? Let me retrieve my love-chemistry set: what are the vital measurements that equate to a balanced, healthy friendship and relationship that combine both sentiment and action? A beaker full of this, a centrifuging of that… Is it too much to ask for proof of purchase? Are our expectations too high for wanting a follow-through? What if we’re not seeking perfection from those in our lives but a sincere connection that extends beyond verbal proclamations? Sometimes we draw boundaries with the people around us in order to protect ourselves. Sometimes we draw...

Beyond the stories though, we do not actually deal with the adversities in life as an objectified story. Who we are is unbroken as presence; even in the most horrific circumstances, it is a whole human living life.

And I, the pale-skinned tragedy, jutting out brazenly, with all the broken bones from all the fun you had.

To be - Energy - Boundless In frame - Shooting Star of equanimity - Comet’s mist in shroud

I get angry because there have been times I have needed you and cried out for you. I have hoped and prayed and begged for you. I asked, and you never answered. I called out, and there was no response. I searched, and you were nowhere to be found. If you are reading this, I found you.

We have to be intentional, if our relationship remains professional, about where we draw our boundaries. But I suspect that by letting you see both my strength and my fear, you will come to know that you are also both strong and afraid, and that you are never truly alone.

How dare you appease me with lithium and light therapy, to deafen my daughter’s cries?