healing
How to heal fully and properly.
Mom taught to me
As of late, I was approached to pick one subject my mom shown me, and I got myself quiet for a few minutes - how is it possible that I would pick only a certain something? My mom showed me nearly all that I knew. If not for her and the model she set, I don't actually have a clue who I would be.
By Sawn Baen4 years ago in Motivation
For without rain, there would be no flowers
Raina tucked the spines of her lovers in the spines of her journals because they were too spineless to love her. She releases her vitality upon the lines of paper that only have the strength to withhold the affray within her core. The agony is unabated. It reminds her of the earthquakes, one calls legs, she tries to stand on. It reminds her that once again someone could not stay. She is reminded that is just a home for lost souls who need light. Her hands riddled with calluses of dried smiles gone often too soon. Every backache can be traced from her helping someone else up. Every spot on her arms is from a pop of grease from feeding a body that is alive but still sheep. Every wrinkle is proof that wisdom comes with time.
By dr.verse4 years ago in Motivation
My Process Is My Peace. Top Story - August 2021.
As a little girl, I grabbed every drawing medium in sight. At first I found my way into every crayon box, then tasting every color trying to assess which one spoke to me best internally-the brilliance of a 4 year old mind. Then I chose where I wanted that medium to display itself for everyone to react, to feel, to sense and connect with and most of the time that ended up being somewhere I could actually reach and that was often the wall. My father never paid attention to any of my artistic rendezvous, but my mother did. So she wasn’t too overjoyed whenever she’d find a new stickman that had walked across her wall to go find his friend or grab his dog. That played no part in my further endeavors to share my art. In fact it fermented the fact that the walls was where I needed to be to educate and demonstrate the value of having art adorn walls. A few years later and I decided other ventures were worth my interest. So I picked up carving and well, I found myself creating a masterpiece on my mom’s mahogany table using her house key. An artist is an artist and creativity must be exploited to discover one’s abilities. So yes, I stand by the stick girl with the afro, the dog by her side and the apple tree that lent her shade. Again with my father more focused on himself and his career, never quite using the house for other than nourishment and sleep, he didn’t notice the solid body of work greeting faces as meals were devoured. My mother on the other hand, having a fit after she found it.
By Karimah Peart4 years ago in Motivation
Elizabeth's Marigolds
Today’s the day. I arose like any other morning, slipped out of bed with a much needed stretch. I grabbed my slippers and headed downstairs. Then made my way to the kitchen and started the coffee. The aroma itself, was enough to make my grogginess fade. When it was done, I poured a cup and opened the window. It was a crisp morning with a cool breeze. As I sipped my coffee I studied the landscape. Most of the view consisted of large pines and tall grass, birds chirped and in the distance, a faint sound of a woodpecker was chipping away. The garden was a sea of orange and yellow. It was her favorite flower, the marigold. With petals, looking as fragile as life itself and an aroma that was more of an odor to me than a fragrance. But they were perfect in her eyes. No other flower could compare. Watching these flowers bloom brought me back. Back to a year ago.
By CL Laskowski 4 years ago in Motivation
What Grand Jeté, Camembert Cheese and the Tokyo 2020 Olympics have in Common
"It's already loud around here; it's also noisy in here," Raphael* said as he gestured to his temple. He slightly tilted his head towards his right pointer finger, a tuft of his inky black fringes fell, and the sunlight glared on his eyeglasses. "How do you quiet the mind?" he asked. Despite his eyes disappearing behind the glare, the sullen notes in his question told me what I couldn't see in his eyes.
By Imi Ki4 years ago in Motivation
My Happy Place
There’s a saying; “whatever you lost time doing as a child is where your true passions lie.” For me, this began with reading, and not so soon after, writing. I vividly remember the first time reading through the Harry Potter series, and feeling as though I’d entered another world. Even when I wasn’t reading, the books and stories were on my mind, and I daydreamed about them constantly.
By Rina Bean4 years ago in Motivation
Words of Unwinding
I head to the fridge to retrieve a special bottle of chardonnay. I prefer to always keep a bottle on hand, one that is cool and crisp for such nights like tonight. A change in ambiance is required to set the mood I am looking for. I reach for my phone to find the perfect music, a slow jazzy lo-fi playlist. With a prompt voice command to Alexa, I dim the lights of my house. Having a proper setting is vital when you require time to work with heavy emotions. With a full glass in tow, I begin my climb up the stairs, hang a swift right to a closed door, and stop.
By Theresa Wilhelm4 years ago in Motivation
