Love
-
Thinking is a Prayer
A friend asked me, “Pray for me, so I may be filled with strength in my life”. I answered, thinking of you is a prayer.
-
She: “I never meant to hurt you”
He: “I never meant to love you”
-
The Heart of a Struggle
Every struggle— Inwardly or outwardlyIs not on a winBut on love
-
Sweetbread and Coffee
Breakfast seems to be intrinsic animal behavior but colored by culture and class. Some are light, some hearty, some cold, some hot, some simple, others require labor. Today I treated myself to the joy of working for mine.
-
Love is merely an intangible magnet, drawing individually and collectively all that breathes towards the whole, towards everything that is, towards the universe as sole identity.
If love in life, and life in love one day finds us face to face, all of me is already smiling.
-
Is joy the chicken or the egg? (A gentle reiteration on the question on a question)
“Life is suffering, and we spend our lives looking for happiness.” This was her expressed view during our conversation. Is it not fair to say that life is pleasure, happiness, joy, and we erroneously spend energy and passion in search of suffering? — Notes on a Clubhouse conversation
-
Only Beauty
The pure, the whole, lifeis a constant inspirationinner, intimate desire needwill to createshareand choose depth of beautyonly beauty
-
Unconditional Love is an Illusion
for its opposite, conditional love, does not exist.
-
… strange day
Besides the bananas, I knew the asparagus was reaching a critical stage, and the shiso, and the stripped German tomato, and the asparagus. Olives, however, seem inmortal.
-
Life
I just took a deep breath of joy
-
Simple versus Easy
In a hut / in a castleOn a shore / in the forest / on a hillAlone / with a herd — in the hut / about the hut / in the castle / around a castleTangible and intangible chores in creativity, and logic, and magicTo be, lively, in wisdom, in love, That is simpleNot…
-
In the most beautiful, most gentle, most moving moments of tears, not those of physical pain, painful memories, sudden loss
in the joy of beautiful, gentle, moving tears, if not the body, what is being touched?
Sila Blume 