coming back around again

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.

And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes

you cannot even breathe deeply, and

the night sky is no home, and

you have cried yourself to sleep enough times

that you are down to your last two percent, but

nothing is infinite,

not even loss.

You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day

you are going to find yourself again.

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F. Scott

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one foot in sea, one on shore

Love,

It will not betray you
Dismiss you, or
Enslave you.

It will set you free.

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grace

Offer up your burdens and you will be taken care of. Those who do will not be permitted to slip and fall.

This is difficult in the face of hardships, but your faithfulness will be honoured.

Grace is all you need.

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When you go out and fight your enemies, and you face horses and chariots and an army greater than your own, do not be afraid.

Grace is on your side to give you a heart of peace and confidence for tomorrow.

all we ever have is now

Mindfulness is like magic.

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In surrendering ourselves completely to the present moment, we give up all human notions and compulsions to try to improve ourselves, and simply realize where we already are.

We accept our invitation to the inescapable adventure of life as it happens, with each singular moment that passes. There is an incredible urgency in the present moment when we allow the past and future to drift away. Right now is all we have for certain.

Humans naturally resist and force against the present moment;
With each thought that arises, judging it right or wrong. Or, with each physical and emotional sensation, counting it as pleasant or unpleasant.

The magic of mindfulness lies in sacrificing the slipperiness of longing for change, wanting and evaluating. Accepting each moment that arises with its thoughts and feelings, because they are already occurring.

Lying in the grass.
Fighting only the air.
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to be wild

I’d rather sing one wild song and burst my heart with it, than live a thousand years watching my digestion and being afraid of the wet.

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The wild still lingered in her and the wolf in her merely slept.

Jack London