If I were to die young, I’m convinced that I would have lived a full life, just like the extraordinary woman this article honors.
This is an invitation to write your own poem -- about your body, your experience with #MeToo, whatever would feed your wild soul.
Darling, live well If we should die tonight, let the world know our voices rang out To sing all the words to all the songs that left their marks in our hearts
What would we use as currency in a society without money? What would we value? What would we work for, and how would we meet our needs? Even more curious, in a post-capitalistic society, how would we measure wealth, if money were no longer a driving factor?
In a world so divorced from our own original mythology, we so easily forget that we are ourselves the inhabitants of an unfolding human narrative. Transcending story, we leave behind not only the worst, but also the very best, of what it means to be alive. We risk losing the wisdom that arises ...
So, as the tears kept coming, I continued to notice the beauty all around me. In the place where it feels okay to let the waves of grief wash through my soul. Feeling the good and the bad, and not being afraid.