posture + gaze. happy weekend! by cassia beck via jealous curator
in effect, the cost of being who you are is that you can’t possibly meet everyone’s expectations, and so, there will inevitably, be external conflict to deal with - the friction of being visible.
still, the cost of not being who you are is that while you are busy pleasuring everyone around you, a precious part of you is dying inside; in this case, there will be internal conflict to deal with – the friction of being invisible.
in most human beings, the heart does its work unattended. even though its behavior governs the course of our lives, it is not understood. if at any given point in time the heart happens to open, we fall in love. if at any given point in time the heart happens to close, the love stops. if the heart happens to hurt, we get angry, and if we stop feeling altogether, we get empty. all of these things happen because the heart goes through changes. these energy shifts and variations that take place in the heart run your life. you are so identified with them that you use words “i” and “me” when you refer to what’s going on in your heart. but in truth, you are not your heart. you are the experiencer of your heart.
- michael singer, the untethered soul [emphasis mine]
this book. wow, this book.
posture + gaze. | via fuckyeahstvincent
effective confidence comes from within, it’s not the result of external events. the confident salesperson is likely to close more sales. the confident violinist expresses more of the music. the confident leader points us to the places we want (and need) to go.
you succeed because you’ve chosen to be confident. it’s not really useful to require yourself to be successful before you’re able to become confident.
- seth godin [emphasis mine]
i saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. from the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. one fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was ee gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was europe and africa and south america, and another fig was constantin and socrates and attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs i couldn’t quite make out. i saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because i couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs i would choose. i wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as i sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.
- sylvia plath, the bell jar [emphasis mine] a reminder to make choices.
posture + gaze. | via paris2london