Passion, Self-Awareness, & Language of Renewal
REPOST We all want to be happy. The question is “how can I be happy?” Speaking from experience, I asked myself this question a few years ago. I then embarked on a journey to find the answer to this question. I want to share a few of the things I’ve learned on my journey with
How can binge watching TV shows can be good for your mental health? Through cathartic emotional purging and empathetic observation, you can use your time in front of the TV to work through your issues, and here’s how… Catharsis According to Aristotle’s Poetics catharsis is the purification of the emotions by vicarious experience. The psychotherapy definition is
Mythology Mythical stories are the expression of parables, allegories, and traditional beliefs. Mythology refers to the collective imagination of a group of people for its content. However, as Joseph Campbell puts it in The Power of Myth: “The themes are timeless, and the infection is to the culture.” What he mean is that all myths,
Moonrise By Hilda Doolittle Will you glimmer on the sea? Will you fling your spear-head On the shore? What note shall we pitch? We have a song, On the bank we share our arrows— The loosed string tells our note: O flight, Bring her swiftly to our song. She is great, We measure her by
I’m stuck in some kind of old pattern and I can see it, I can see the door to get out, but I seem to have misplaced the key. But, I think I want the key misplaced. I’m holding on to something I cannot name because I don’t know the part of me that is holding on.
Am I not ready? Or am I scared?
Am I truly avoiding Clarity, or am I keeping myself in the dark a little while longer? Maybe I don’t want to know the answer.
This morning I was struck by the realization that while the internet can be a volatile and scary place, there are some people who have discovered safe little corners where they can connect with others and feel safe enough to share their lives and their stories. I find sharing online tremendously difficult and often feel embarrassed by it,
The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los: And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his universe: And on its verge the sun rises and sets, the clouds
Originally posted on Ebben Wilde:
Ode to my lost child What was it like? It was like my soul cramping and ripping itself from my body. It was a fire in my loins that I didn’t want to put out. I couldn’t put out the flames. I’d rather take the burning from the inside then…
