posture + gaze. dancing more than ever these days. deep bow to the act and art. so grateful for those early childhood lessons that turned into fuel for growth and understanding. empowerment. | via pinterest: awelltraveledwoman)
we keep libraries in our minds, cataloged by time and organized by moments. we bend corners on the days where the universe cheered for us, moments where our hearts were plump with love and our faith was unshakeable. we have well-worn pages - weathered and soiled with grit and hard work. days comprised of great effort and great reward, moments of rolled up sleeves and unflinching pride. our library contains stories about sadness and grief. on kindness and grace. on forgiveness and humility. the entire collection is what ultimately defines us.
i think about people, people i know and don’t know. the timing often seems odd, disconnected, begs the question “why”. while i don’t know holly, i thought about her last week but couldn’t remember the name of her tumblr. tonight, her words found. a reminder to hold space in our words for others, to allow ourselves to be held between their lines.
joy is the kind of feeling a woman has when she lays the words down on paper just so, or hits the notes al punto, right on the head, the first time. whew. unbelievable. it is the kind of feeling a woman has when she finds she is pregnant and wants to be. it is the kind of joy a woman feels when she looks at people she loves enjoying themselves. it is the kind of joy a woman feels when she has done something that she feels dogged about, that she feels intense about, something that took risk, something that made her stretch, best herself, and succeed - maybe gracefully, maybe not, but she did it, created the something, the someone, the art, the battle, the moment, her life. that is a woman’s natural and instinctive state of being.
- clarissa pinkola estés, women who run with the wolves, p223-24
this book, her words - over and over. for the third time this summer. passage via melindahunt [emphasis mine]
the scientist | willie nelson | via hollygonightly
the sun reaching for the ground, colors linger above. this lifts my heart in a way that i searched for all day. sunday.