Women who run with the wolves

“Addiction begins when a woman loses her handmade and meaningful life and become fixated upon retrieving anything that resembles it in any way she can. Loss of a power of discrimination…willing to take a deadly substitute"

“It may also be that a woman’s creative process is misunderstood or disrespected by those around her. It is up to her to inform them that when she has “that look” in her eyes, it does not mean she is a vacant lot waiting to be filled. It means she is balancing a big cardhouse of ideas on a single finger tip, and she is carefully connecting all the cards using tiny crystalline bones and a little spit, and if she can just get it all to a table without it falling down or flying apart, she can bring an image from the unseen world into being. To speak to her in that moment is to create a harpy wind that blows the entire structure to tatters. To speak to her in that moment is to break her heart.

"Women Who Run With the Wolves"
[Written by Clarissa Pinkola-Estes]

बेनाम सा ये दर्द....

बेनाम-सा ये दर्द ठहर क्यों नहीं जाता
जो बीत गया है वो गुज़र क्यों नहीं जाता
सब कुछ तो है क्या ढूँढ़ती रहती हैं निगाहें
क्या बात है मैं वक़्त पे घर क्यों नहीं जाता
वो एक ही चेहरा तो नहीं सारे जहाँ में
जो दूर है वो दिल से उतर क्यों नहीं जाता
मैं अपनी ही उलझी हुई राहों का तमाशा
जाते हैं जिधर सब, मैं उधर क्यों नहीं जाता
वो ख़्वाब जो बरसों से न चेहरा, न बदन है
वो ख़्वाब हवाओं में बिखर क्यों नहीं जाता

Benaam Sa Yeh Dard - Jagjit Singh: http://youtu.be/nt3pKM7sdhI

Messiness of mine...

“Half of me is filled with bursting words & half of me is painfully shy. I crave solitude yet also crave people. I want to pour life & love into everything yet also nurture my self-care & go gently. I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decision, yet also wish to sit & contemplate. This is the messiness of life- that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts. We are complicated creatures, & ultimately, the balance comes from this understanding. Be water. Flowing, flexible & soft. Subtly powerful & open. Wild & serene. Able to accept all changes, yet still led by the pull of steady tides. It is enough.”
~●~Victoria Erickson~●~

The Day You Read This [I Wrote This For You]

On this day, you read something that moved you and made you realise there were no more fears to fear. No tears to cry. No head to hang in shame. That every time you thought you’d offended someone, it was all just in your head and really, they love you with all their heart and nothing will ever change that. That everyone and everything lives on inside you. That that doesn’t make any of it any less real.

That soft touches will change you and stay with you longer than hard ones.

That being alone means you’re free. That old lovers miss you and new lovers want you and the one you’re with is the one you’re meant to be with. That the tingles running down your arms are angel feathers and they whisper in your ear, constantly, if you choose to hear them. That everything you want to happen, will happen, if you decide you want it enough. That every time you think a sad thought, you can think a happy one instead.

That you control that completely.

That the people who make you laugh are more beautiful than beautiful people. That you laugh more than you cry. That crying is good for you. That the people you hate wish you would stop and you do too.

That your friends are reflections of the best parts of you. That you are more than the sum total of the things you know and how you react to them. That dancing is sometimes more important than listening to the music.

That the most embarrassing, awkward moments of your life are only remembered by you and no one else. That no one judges you when you walk into a room and all they really want to know, is if you’re judging them. That what you make and what you do with your time is more important than you’ll ever fathom and should be treated as such. That the difference between a job and art is passion. That neither defines who you are. That talking to strangers is how you make friends.

That bad days end but a smile can go around the world. That life contradicts itself, constantly. That that’s why it’s worth living.

That the difference between pain and love is time. That love is only as real as you want it to be. That if you feel good, you look good but it doesn’t always work the other way around.

That the sun will rise each day and it’s up to you each day if you match it. That nothing matters up until this point. That what you decide now, in this moment, will change the future. Forever. That rain is beautiful.

And so are you.

The Lover's Dictionary

lover, n.

Oh, how I hated this word. So pretentious, like it was always being translated from the French. The tint and taint of illicit, illegitimate affections. Dictionary meaning: a person having a love affair. Impermanent. Unfamilial. Inextricably linked to sex.
I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go back to the root of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I have always wanted lover, and to be loved.
There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.
When I say, Be my lover, I don't mean, Let's have an affair. I don't mean Sleep with me. I don't mean, Be my secret.
I want us to go back to that root.
I want you to be the one who loves me.
I want to be the one who loves you.
[David Levithan]

[Photo courtesy Google]