May 2012
“I want to drink the sunlight in your skin.”
—Rudy Francisco (via om-nashi-mee)
April 2012
“At the beginning of my life, I received my teachings directly from the natural world. I understood the rhythm of existence through the interplay of light and shadow and the subtle changes of the air and climate. I learned that for every mood there is a corresponding season and that our lives are seamlessly connected to the great life of the earth.
When I withdrew in winter and found myself in dark and inaccessible regions, I came to know that darkness is a time for the migration of the soul: I saw then what we hold in common with the roots and seeds—a stage of mute and invisible growth. My inner changes and emotions were often triggered by the land: I would feel the breakthrough of the spring as the windswept sky and a sudden movement of the clouds brought forth a new round of activity. I would become like the hard, insistent shoots sprouting upward from the earth, and something in me would be heartened and encouraged as I stretched my spirit toward the light.
The eruptions of the crocus and the daffodil still remind me that in the days ahead I will know the exhilaration of opening that belongs to the buds and flowers. By such observations, we discover that life is not static or fixed; one thing flows into the next, and we are standing in the midst of it, wide-eyed and innocent.” —Valerie Andrews
When I withdrew in winter and found myself in dark and inaccessible regions, I came to know that darkness is a time for the migration of the soul: I saw then what we hold in common with the roots and seeds—a stage of mute and invisible growth. My inner changes and emotions were often triggered by the land: I would feel the breakthrough of the spring as the windswept sky and a sudden movement of the clouds brought forth a new round of activity. I would become like the hard, insistent shoots sprouting upward from the earth, and something in me would be heartened and encouraged as I stretched my spirit toward the light.
The eruptions of the crocus and the daffodil still remind me that in the days ahead I will know the exhilaration of opening that belongs to the buds and flowers. By such observations, we discover that life is not static or fixed; one thing flows into the next, and we are standing in the midst of it, wide-eyed and innocent.” —Valerie Andrews
