She Let Go! by Rev. Safire Rose

O convite (The invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer)

'Não me interessa o que você faz para ganhar a vida.

Quero saber o que você deseja ardentemente, se ousa sonhar em atender aquilo pelo qual seu coração anseia.

Não me interessa saber a sua idade.

Quero saber se você se arriscará a parecer um tolo por amor, por sonhos, pela aventura de estar vivo.

Não me interessa saber que planetas estão em quadratura com a sua lua.

Quero saber se tocou o âmago de sua dor, se as traições da vida o abriram ou se você se tornou murcho e fechado por medo de mais dor!

Quero saber se pode suportar a dor, minha ou sua, sem procurar escondê-la, reprimi-la ou narcotizá-la. Quero saber se você pode aceitar alegria, minha ou sua; se pode dançar com abandono e deixar que o êxtase o domine até a ponta dos dedos das mãos ou dos pés, sem nos dizer para termos cautela, sermos realistas, ou nos lembrarmos das limitações de sermos humanos.

Não me interessa se a história que me conta é a verdade.

Quero saber se consegue desapontar outra pessoa para ser autêntico consigo mesmo, se pode suportar a acusação de traição e não trair a sua alma. Quero saber se você pode ver beleza mesmo que ela não seja tão bonita todos os dias, e se pode buscar a origem de sua vida na presença de Deus. Quero saber se você pode viver com o fracasso, seu e meu, e ainda, à margem de um lago, gritar para a lua prateada: ‘Posso!’

Não me interessa onde você mora ou quanto dinheiro tem.

Quero saber se pode levantar-se após uma noite de sofrimento e desespero, cansado, ferido até os ossos, e fazer o que tem de ser feito pelos filhos.

Não me interessa saber quem você é e como veio parar até aqui.

Quero saber se você ficará comigo no centro do incêndio e não se acovardará.

Não me interessa saber onde, o quê, ou com quem você estudou.

Quero saber o que o sustenta a partir de dentro, quando tudo o mais desmorona.

Quero saber se consegue ficar sozinho consigo mesmo e se, realmente, gosta da companhia que tem nos momentos vazios.'

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

I JUST SUED THE SCHOOL SYSTEM !!!

Ofra Haza - Love Song (Song of Songs 8:6-7)

EVERYBODY DIES, BUT NOT EVERYBODY LIVES

She was done. (via Adrienne Pieroth)

She was done not fully being herself.

She realized she was the only self she could be—and not being unapologetically true to herself was a disservice to her soul and the world.

She was done listening to the noise of the world. She realized the quiet voice of her own soul was the most beautiful sound.

She was done questioning her motives, her intentions, the call of her soul. She realized questions seek answers, and maybe she already knew the answers.

She was done striving, forcing, pushing through and staying on the hard path. She realized toughing things out might be a sign to pick another path.

She was done with friends that admonished her to be more light and breezy. She realized they didn’t understand she swam in the deep waters of life, she felt at home in their dark depths and died if she lived on the surface.

She was done with the distractions, the denials, the small addictions that pulled her away from the true desires of her soul. She realized that strength of character came from focus and commitment.

She was done not following the desires that yelled out in her soul every day. She realized if she did nothing about them, they died a quiet death that took a piece of her soul with them.

She was done with dinner parties and cocktail hours where conversations skimmed the surface of life. She realized the beverages created distortion and a temporary happiness that wasn’t real and disappeared in the light of the day.

She was done trying to please everyone. She realized it could never be done.

She was done questioning herself. She realized her heart knew the truth and she needed to follow it.

She was done analyzing all the options, weighing the pros and cons and trying to figure everything out before leaping. She realized that taking a leap implied not fully seeing where she landed.

She was done battling with herself, trying to change who she knew herself to be. She realized the world made it hard enough to fully be herself, so why add to the challenge.

She was done worrying, as if worry was the price she had to pay to make it all turn out okay. She realized worry didn’t need to be part of the process.

She was done apologizing and playing small to make others feel comfortable and fit in. She realized fitting in was overrated and shining her light made others brave enough to do the same.

She was done with the should’s, ought to’s and have to’s of the world. She realized the only must’s in her life came from things that beat so strong in her soul, she couldn’t not do them.

She was done with remorse and could have’s. She realized hindsight never applies because circumstances always look different in the rearview mirror and you experience life looking through the front window.

She was done with friendships based on shared history and past experiences. She realized if friends couldn’t grow together, or were no longer following the same path, it was okay to let them go.

She was done trying to fit in—be part of the popular crowd. She realized the price she had to pay to be included was too high and betrayed her soul.

She was done not trusting. She realized she had placed her trust in people that were untrustworthy—so she would start with the person she could trust the most—herself.

She was done being tired. She realized it came from spending her time doing things that didn’t bring her joy or feed her soul.

She was done trying to figure it all out, know the answers, plan everything and see all the possibilities before she began. She realized life was unfolding and that the detours and unexpected moments were some of the best parts.

She was done needing to be understood by anyone but herself. She realized she was the only person she would spend her whole with and understanding herself was more important than being understood by others.

She was done looking for love. She realized loving and accepting herself was the best kind of love and the seed from which all other love started.

She was done fighting, trying to change or not her accepting her body. She realized the body she came into the world with was the only one she had—there were no exchanges or returns—so love and acceptance was the only way.

She was done being tuned in, connected and up-to-date all the time. She realized the news and noise of the world was always there—a cacophony that never slowed or fell quiet and that listening to the silence of her soul was a better station to tune into.

She was done beating herself up and being so hard on herself as if either of these things led to changes or made her feel better. She realized kindness and compassion towards herself and others accomplished more.

She was done comparing and looking at other people’s lives as a mirror for her own. She realized holding her own mirror cast her in the best, most beautiful light.

She was done being quiet, unemotional and holding her tongue. She realized her voice and her emotions could be traced back to her deepest desires and longings. if she only followed their thread.

She was done having to be right. She realized everyone’s truth was relative and personal to themselves, so the only right that was required was the one that felt true for her.

She was done not feeling at home in the world. She realized she might never feel at home in the world, but that feeling at home in her soul was enough.

She was done being drained by others—by people who didn’t want to take the time for their own process and saw shortcuts though hers. She realized she could share her experience, but everyone needed to do the work themselves.

She was done thinking she had so much to learn. She realized she already knew so much, if she only listened.

She was done trying to change others or make them see things. She realized she could only lead by example and whether they saw or followed was up to them.

She was done with the inner critic. She realized its voice was not her own.

She was done racing and being discontent with where she was. She realized the present moment held all it needed to get her to the next moment. It wasn’t out there—it was right here.

She was done seeing hurt as something to be avoided, foreseen or somehow her fault. She realized hurt shaped her as much as joy and she needed both to learn and grow.

She was done judging. She realized judging assumed the presence of right and wrong—and that there was a difference between using information to inform and making someone else wrong.

She was done jumping to conclusions. She realized she only needed to ask.

She was done with regrets. She realized if she had known better she would have done better.

She was done being angry. She realized anger was just a flashlight that showed her what she was most scared of and once it illuminated what she needed to see, she no longer needed to hold on to it.

She was done being sad. She realized sorrow arose when she betrayed her own soul and made choices that weren’t true to herself.

She was done playing small. She realized if others couldn’t handle her light, it was because they were afraid of their own.

She was done with the facades and the pretending. She realized masks were suffocating and claustrophobic.

She was done with others’ criticism and complaints. She realized they told her nothing about herself—only informed her of their perspective.

She was done yelling above the noise of the world. She realized living out loud could be done quietly.

She was done needing permission, validation or the authority. She realized she was her her own authority.

She was done being something she was not. She realized the purpose of life was to be truly, happily who she was born to be…and if she paused long enough to remember, she recognized herself.

Eenie-meeie-minie-moe! ;)

"I want to know you" by JoJo Rowden

I want to know what kind of man you are beneath the surface.

I want to understand what makes your heart beat faster and what you love. What makes you mad, and why it has that power over you.

I want to learn if your anger is hot and quick like mine, or a lingering coldness that freezes those who invoke your wrath. Do you forgive them when the red mist subsides, or do you hold a grudge through all of eternity?

I wish I could know how you see me through those quiet eyes of yours. I want you to tell me if you long to stroke my hair as we drift off to sleep, or if it’s my curves that your hands ache for. I wonder if you would message me goodnight before bed, so that I would never close my eyes without knowing that I was loved. Perhaps you would expect my heart to know that already, simply by the way your face lights up at the sight of mine.

What do you dream of when you close your eyes? Do you sleep peacefully until the light dapples your skin through the blinds, or do the tigers prowl around your head, leaving you shivering in fear in the darkness?

When you are lonely, do you ever think about my smile, or the way that I always know how to still the demons that scream inside you? I wonder if I am still vivid in your awareness, or a distant memory now; a spectre bathed in the gentle lustre of nostalgia.

Do you chase sunsets or sunrises? I love both. Does the promise of a shimmering new dawn appeal to you more than the glow of another day closing in a riot of colour? I wonder where peace finds you. Will you drink hot tea with me as the sun blazes through the horizon, reminding us of the fleeting nature of this life? I think I would like that.

I want to learn if you prefer the bright crackle of a burning log fire, snuggled up in blankets against the cold, or the way that the sun plays upon warm limbs, making them glow golden in the afternoon light. Is it summer that brings a smile to those lips I covet, or would you rather turn your face up to taste the snowflakes as they fall?

I watch to see if you curse the fact that you cannot get to work in the snow, or if you roll up your sleeves joyfully to build a snowman. And if you do, I notice whether you give him a stone mouth so that he might smile upon the children that wave as they pass him by.

Do you ever fantasise about losing yourself, out there, in the world? Do you seek the quiet solitude of a wooden log cabin on the edge of a lake, or do you prefer the lights and glamour of cocktail dresses in a fancy room full of raucous laughter?Where do you want to go? What do you want to see?

Do you hear it when adventure calls out your name and more importantly, do you answer?

I want to know where you hide, when the world becomes too much to bear.

Where do you take your freedom?

Is there space for another in your haven, or can I follow you only so far, then settle patiently to await your return to me; the reunion all the sweeter for your absence.

See, I wanna know if you have hurt people. Did their tears rain on your heart, each drop a sharp stinging torment? I try to imagine if you wear a mask of hardness in the face of another’s pain, or if you are gentle as you ask for forgiveness. Do you bleed through another’s wounds? Can you?

Tell me how you have broken someone you loved, and whether you were able to fix them again. Did they love you still when the pieces were put back together? What horrors live in the bleakest corners of your soul? What do you think about when you go there?

I want to know the very worst of you.

Share with me the music that plays in your heart, and whether you dance to the beat of your own drum. Show me the colour of your love. If you could splash its brightness onto a waiting canvas, would it burn with passionate reds and oranges, or would it run still and strong in a cool turquoise calm?

Tell me if you kiss softly, your lips singing mine a gentle lullaby, or whether they would rage intently, scorching new pathways to my heart with a desire that refuses be stilled. I want to feel it either way.

Show me if you want a sweet girl, or a dirty one. Or a little of each. What makes you cry out in ecstasy? Is it a woman that makes you laugh until your stomach hurts, or one whose beauty takes your breath away with a single look? Do you look for the quirky ones, perhaps? The ones who are too easily overlooked, the hidden treasures?

Tell me, would you risk it all for love? Would you fight for what you truly want, or would you let it slip away into nothing, never knowing what might have been, because you never told her that your heart beat only for her? Did you ever realise she was waiting for you to fight for her? Will you watch someone else love her because you were too afraid to be vulnerable with her?

Will you settle for next best, the girl you could maybe grow to love someday, instead of the one that haunts your thoughts today? Is that enough for you? Maybe it is. Could you live with yourself knowing that she got away?

Tell me about a time that you cried until you couldn’t breathe anymore. Or where you lived through a day where you prayed for the sweet release of death. Did you make it through? I have been there. Has your heart been broken into a million tiny pieces and, if it has, has it made you hard? Or are you are still open to the beauty that the world holds for you?

Show me your pain and I will show you mine. I hope it does not scare you. It has helped me to grow.

I want to know if you talk to the glittering stars above us, and which one is special to you. What do you think happens when we die? Do we join their shining ranks in heaven or is there nothing left for us? Are you afraid of death? I am. Will you hold my hand if I leave you first? If you whisper to me that love knows no boundaries, not even death, will you mean it?

Tell me about your childhood. I want to know the way your mother’s hair smelled when you crawled exhausted into her lap, and the way your bedroom looked when you were 10. Did your father cry when you curled a tiny fist around his finger for the very first time? I bet he did. I want to know all the people that you have loved throughout your life, so that I might love them through you and with you.

Do you write? Do you draw? I want to know whether you ache to capture my face with your pencil, preserving the wonder that lingers softly there. Do you like to express yourself through words, or action best? Will your hands illustrate your story as you speak and will I know that you are lying from the way your lips tremble gently as the words tumble guiltily from them?

What is your favourite book? Explain to me why it enraptures you so. Please? It tells me a lot about you. I love the way people cry when their favourite character breaks their heart, as though they are an old friend to be adored. Who is yours? I will seek them out and befriend them to understand why they have moved you so much.

Lend me your secrets. I’ll keep them safe and I’ll return them when my picture of you is complete. Whisper into my ear so that only us two may share them. Do you believe in magic? I do, now that I have met you.

Tell me your story, for it might well become part of my story. Let me in. Let me see you. All of you.

I want to know you.

To me, a true marriage is a heart-soul commitment and not the signing of a contract, but this?!!... Sweet music to my being!

“If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy. If she’s easy, she won’t be amazing. If she’s worth it, you won’t give up. If you give up, you’re not worthy.” ~ Bob Marley

She’s going to shake you up and cause chaos in your heart, she’s going to infuriate you and destroy any plans you ever had for normality—she is the kind of woman you make your wife for life.

The only promise this woman will make is that nothing in life will have prepared you for her.

She’s going to be inconvenient—and will likely make you feel vastly uncomfortable because she is going to challenge everything you thought you knew and all that you believed you wanted.

This woman will bring you to your knees and make you want to run for the hills.

Make a wife of the woman who makes you question everything.

She will be as intense as thunder and lightening within the chaos of a winter blizzard and as soft as the first pale pink buds of spring.

She’s going to take one look at you and destroy any walls that you hid behind, protecting your heart and your stagnant ways of life.

She won’t just look at you—but through you and see everything that you thought you were successful at concealing.

Make a wife of the woman who looks at you like the king you are.

This woman won’t be an equation to solve, yet somehow the answer will always be infinity.

She probably won’t fit neatly into your life, and might even cause more upheaval in the beginning than anything else.

But that is how you will know she is the one.

Make a wife of the woman who rearranges your life and changes all of it in an instant.

Her beauty will be a symphony of sweet confusion.

The harder you try to make sense of her and the place she occupies within your heart, the more the answers will elude you.

You won’t be able to compare her to any other woman or previous love.

It won’t even do any good to read any sort of instructions, because she’s truly broken the mold.

Make a wife of the woman who leaves you speechless at her originality.

This goddess is going to kiss you unlike ever before.

When she runs her fingers along your strong biceps she’s dipping her fingertips into the depths of your soul.

When she looks at you, she will make you feel as if you are the only man in the universe.

And that is because for her, you are.

Make a wife of the woman who makes you feel like the luckiest man in the world.

This once in a lifetime woman will patiently hold open her heart for you, inviting you in to make a home there.

She will listen with understanding and act with patience.

She’s going to sound like rain and taste like the sea.

Make a wife of the woman who never gives up on you.

This tenderhearted soul is going to challenge you in ways that you won’t always be ready for.

She may push you far out of your comfort zone and leave you feeling like your only choice is to run.

But you won’t—at least not for very long or very far.

She’s going to tend to you as she does her young spring seedlings—because she wants you to grow right along with her—even if it means growing in a different direction at times.

Make a wife of the woman who inspires you to be a better man every single day.

This woman will remain a mystery no matter how many times you read her sweet story.

She will mystify you at times, and drive you mad at others.

This unique soul will share with you, experiences you never imagined existed and make you feel emotions you never could have known.

Make a wife of the woman who makes you dream.

She will taste like honey fresh from the hive and move with the force of a spring leap tide.

Her eyes will gleam with the mischief of a darkened starry night, and her body will become the ride of your life.

She will create sapphire sparks of substance within her soft hands—and it’s there you’ll realize, it’s not the world she holds in the palm of her hand—but your heart.

Make a wife of the woman who feels like magic.  

This woman will possess the force of a thousand armies to stand up and protect you.

Her fearlessness and courage are inspired by the love she feels from you.

For when a woman knows her lover would go to the ends of the Earth for her—she will always return the sentiment.

Whether it’s her fight or not, she will be by your side.

Even if silently—or if she has to stand behind you in the shadows because it’s one only you yourself can battle.

Make a wife of the woman who will defend you to the bitter end.

This love won’t be many things.

It won’t be jealous or unforgiving—even spiteful or superficial.

It won’t always be easy and it most certainly won’t be predictable.

But the one guarantee—it will always remain real.

She won’t jump to conclusions nor will she think the worst of you.

And no matter what others say about you, she will always make up her own mind.

Make a wife  of the woman who trusts you explicitly and completely.

This amazing woman is going to make your heart feel just a little bit fuller.

She will be your first thought in the morning and the last before your eyes close heavy with exhaustion.

She will appear even in your dreams, and you’ll wake with her taste upon your lips.

Even in sleep you can’t escape her.

You will not only realize that she is yours, but you are hers.

Make a wife of the woman who becomes your heart.

She’s going to make you try things you never considered, and she will make the impossible seem possible.

She will touch you with thoughtful kindness and kiss you with eternal forgiveness.

She will simply become your everything.

Held within the tangled memories of a thousand delectable nights, and the reality of long days softened only by the sensation of velvety kisses upon fragile hearts—this is the kind of woman who you should make your wife.

Amor Pacífico e Fecundo

Não quero amor
que não saiba dominar-se,
desse, como vinho espumante, 
que parte o copo e se entorna,
perdido num instante.

Dá-me esse amor fresco e puro
como a tua chuva,
que abençoa a terra sequiosa,
e enche as talhas do lar.
Amor que penetre até ao centro da vida,
e dali se estenda como seiva invisível,
até aos ramos da árvore da existência,
e faça nascer
as flores e os frutos.
Dá-me esse amor
que conserva tranquilo o coração,
na plenitude da paz!

Rabindranath Tagore

Natalie Fee - Burden

It doesn't interest me... I want to know

It doesn’t interest me what yoga pose you can do,
I want to know if you can stay in the tension of strength and vulnerability.

It doesn’t interest me what books you have read,
I want to know if you can live what you’ve learned.

It doesn’t interest me what workshops you’ve attended,
I want to know if you know there’s nothing wrong with you and that you’re enough.

It doesn’t interest me how long you can meditate,
I want to know if you can feel the depth of your feelings 
and cry and scream and rage at the pain of this world and your own.

It doesn’t interest me how many followers you have or how much money you make,
I want to know if you can be kind to yourself and everyone you meet.

It doesn’t interest me if you know how to make green smoothies,
I want to know if you love your body and if you can look at yourself in the mirror and love what you see.

It doesn’t interest me how many likes you get on a Facebook post,
I want to know if you’re transparent and if the person you are in real life is the person you portray online.

It doesn’t interest me how many friends you have,
I want to know if you can be a friend to yourself and if you can show up for the ones you love.

It doesn’t interest me if you say you can love,
I want to know if you can forgive and have compassion for those that have hurt you,
I want to know if you can forgive yourself,
I want to know if you can tell the truth,
I want to know if you can own your shadow and live in the magnificence of your light.

I want to know that you know your divinity
and can embrace being human.

~

Author: Catherine Hummel

Image: martinak15

Editor: Katarina Tavčar

Annie Lennox- The gift

Melodious poetry at its best (by one of the best).

Entretanto...

O teu perfume exclusivo
Desperta-me os sentidos
Tanto, que dou por mim, tal qual ávida leitora
Que em braille, vê com os dedos
O sol nascente, nos contornos de teu rosto
Olho-te, olhos nos olhos
E nesse olhar lânguido de prazer
Meu corpo procura o calor do teu
Como um barco que inefavelmente sedento e saudoso
Regressa ao seu oriundo porto de abrigo
Tudo vai, tudo vem
Tu és meu princípio, meu fim
Meu fim, meu começo
Esta ponte
Meu sol poente
A mar, mar, mar-te
Sou eu.

C M Paulo

Poema: A Nêspera - Mário Henrique Leiria

Era uma vez uma nêspera

que estava parada, calada

sentada à beira da estrada

a ver o que acontecia.

Veio uma velha e disse:

Olha uma nêspera!

E zás, comeu-a.

É o que acontece às nêsperas

que ficam paradas, caladas,

sentadas à beira da estrada

a ver o que acontece.

For all that I can see

by brisadumar

Alone
Amongst the crowd
Another ride
On the merry-go-round
Enchanted dream
An angel dancing on a cloud
A quartet of strings
Playing on the background
The ride comes to a halt
Content feet grace the ground
As one walks the trail
As part of a God-given sound

Copyright ©2006 Celia M. Paulo

The things one says

Not to betray a feeling

That runs –so it seems- too deep

One talks about the state of current affairs

About the unfairness of life

That lets a child die

And no one really knows why

There’s so much to blame

So much at stake

So many arguments to be won

To be proven right

No matter what it takes

And we talk as if we know what is right

Without the shadow of a doubt

Yet… how can we possibly justify

War, famine, rape
A new kind of nuclear blast
A pandemic spreading through a sneeze
How can it be at this point in time

So much has been achieved

So many wonderful discoveries

The men has been to the Moon

Men are getting ready to go to Mars

Yet… We are killing our Earth

Our green-blue planet is shrouded in grey

Yet… We are the prey

We are killing our children

-If not as casualties of war-

We are killing them emotionally

And then we wonder

At the hostility we see around

When and where along the way

Have we lost our connection to what is real

To that part that knows

There is more to humanity than this

Yet… what are we creating

In our own homes

Who gave us the power to decide

Who lives and who dies

Why the hate if ultimately

We are the prey of our own game

What will it take

To look within and truly see

Beyond the pain and further still

To that place where love lives

Without it life cannot be

Without self-love we are doomed

All arguments are fearful excuses

If we cannot look within

And honestly say

What do we see?        

Celia M Paulo