The sea air heals me. When the sun and it touch my skin it creates a perfect temperature, peace, and sensation both within and outside of me so that the boundary between myself and nature is blurred. I am reawakened to the notion, the truth, that there is no separation. I am a part of [...]
It wasn't like a rain It was more like a sea I didn't ask for this pain It just came over me I love a storm But I don't love lightning All the waters coming up So fast, that's right. The National
I must remind myself Winter and coldness Do not meant death Nor anything bleak. They merely signal change a withdrawal into oneself to process and refine so rebirth is possible.
Without much strain, You can often find light In the darkness. Sometimes you must seek it- Trudging and slopping through a swamp Other times it rises As the moon Over a night lake While you repose- Dry on a dock.
Limitless and immortal, the waters are the beginning and end of all things on earth. —Heinrich Zimmer
You may feel like the storm, constantly twisting and turning in on itself and dissolving. You may worry that this storm will destroy you and that you'll disappear afterward too. Storms can be beautiful, but you are not the storm. You are the entire atmosphere.
I'm reading the diaries of Sylvia Plath on a lake, quiet, with history and tension at my back. But for whatever reason this morning it is not stealing my peace. A flesh reminder of one of my mortal wounds does not intimidate, when previously just thoughts would torment me. I may owe this grace [...]