I prepared for my own thirtieth birthday — spent alone, on the island of santorini - as if preparing an elaborate labor of love for someone else.
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here is a good thing to have in your emotional medicinal closet — a personalized playlist of medicine songs. by that i mean: a short curation of songs to listen to when you're feeling especially terrible, and need to self-soothe, ground, or remind yourself that the apocalyptic world in your head — is not the end-all-be-all version of reality. sound — and music — is so healing, and requires no effort to absorb. you just press play.
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when i don't know what to do or how to deal with life — sometimes i drop everything and take a bath. taking a bath is like the opposite of taking a walk — a walk means movement, air, earth, sun, light. a bath means stillness, settling, soaking and sinking in oneself — a retreat into physical or metaphorical darkness; the 360 degree embrace of water.
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this thing they call love is a lot of work — pleasure and pain, effort and ease, day in, day out — all balled up into one. love begins as a seed of the feeling, then you must water the feeling. the feeling is made tangible in the world through work: of showing up, of being present, of nurturing, of giving part of oneself to something else. or someone else. you cannot love a passion (art, dance, a cause, an idealogy) without the labor, nor can you love another person without the daily giving. and what is the point of laboring — without love?
the things I create here are all labors of love.
and love is a thing I create with my hands.
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part of the personal journey of becoming my wise woman self is knowing when — and how — to write to myself. how to write deliberately and passionately for an audience of one.
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vulnerability is a muscle of accepting potential pain
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trusting in the resonance of wants / needs / highest good
Read Moreyour world is a place to return home to
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