Think, dear, of the world that you carry inside you, and call this thinking whatever you want to: a remembering of your own childhood or a yearning toward a future of your own - only be attentive to what is arising within you, and place that above everything you perceive around you. What is happening in your innermost self is worthy of your entire love; somehow you must find a way to work at it, and not lose too much time or too much courage clarifying your attitude toward people.

- Rilke

Blue Sky Mind

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It was the middle of June in Nepal, very early in the morning. I stood among the clouds near the Himalayas, dancing within fluffy-soft-white-air pockets. On the ground level, up in the sky. I realized how expansive the universe is and my valued part in it. Like every passing cloud, each one lovely, so natural unto it. Always moving, always changing, forever expanding into something new.

How much I've learned from the sky, a reflecting mirror always passing by...

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The World is Ready Now

Womxn are making the food
Womxn are staying late
Womxn got here early
Womxn have just always been early risers
Womxn brought extra
Womxn are letting you use theirs
It’s no problem
Womxn are making the lesson plan because they couldn’t really teach with this one
Womxn are keeping the books
Womxn have it in a google doc
Womxn are making sure we get a photo while everyone is together
Womxn are emailing everyone about the reunion
Womxn are emailing everyone about the party
Womxn are figuring out how we’re all going to get there
Womxn are checking to make sure you have a ride
Womxn are walking you into the stairwell when you cry
Womxn are listening to your idea
Womxn are editing your proposal
Womxn don’t know how to write a grant but they are figuring it out and writing a grant
Womxn are making sure there are enough chairs
Womxn are making sure everyone gets to speak
Womxn are doing it in their free time
Womxn are listening to your story
Womxn are sending a reminder email about the trip
Womxn are telling you your strengths
Womxn are cleaning up the mess
Womxn are smiling through their fear
Womxn are getting up and finding another seat
Womxn are protecting your feelings
Womxn know, they know, but if they don’t do it it’s not going to get done
Womxn have a minute, sure, sit down, they’re just eating lunch
Womxn are repairing your soul
Womxn are giving feedback on your novel
Womxn are setting up the space
Womxn are concealing their rage
Womxn will do this one for you pro bono
Womxn are calling to see if you got the email about the trip
Womxn are remembering birthdays
Womxn understand why you’re acting that way
Womxn can see it from your side
Womxn can empathize
Womxn have time, sure

by Cara Blouin

March 8, 2018


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I can see her through the glass.

She's strong, open, yearning to make a difference. She's tough on herself though. A weight she believes she has to carry. Ready to step into the unknown. Doubt sitting there beside her. I want to show her the way I see her. The way we all see her. Then she'd know.

I want her to know that I'm here, peering through to remind her of that invincible light within. I can see it. It's always been there and it always will be.

One day she'll know.

Until then, I'll stay here, watching through the window, looking at her tenderly.


I got this vest from my mom for my birthday in November and I love it so much.

I think I've worn it 80% of my days since and I remember (and still do) judging myself for repeat wears and feeling unacceptable to post two days in a row in the same fit.

When I've backpacked or roadtripped, one of my favorite realities is, only bring what you can carry.

So much liberation lives in not having things. Not because it's cool to clean out your closet but because it really shifts your perspective to what matters, what you really need and what is extra (meaning you could go without and be just as happy, if not more.) 🎉

I have noticed with the rise of social media over the decade that we place SO much importance on how it looks vs how we feel.

It is tough to observe societies placed expectations (see advertisements everywhere) that overtime become our own personal expectations.

Wear one outfit for one whole week anywhere and it will become clear how much we operate outside of our truest truth, that we are brilliantly made and designed for love.

No matter the label on the clothes. No matter the booty size or put together face. No matter what! You are loved.

Sincerely explore for yourself, are you here or not? Are you in your body or oblivious, or only aware of parts of it? When I say, "Are you in your body?" I mean, "Are you completely filling your body?" I want to know whether you are in your feet, or just have feet. Do you live in them, or are they just things you use when you walk? Are you in your belly, or do you just know vaguely that you have a belly? Or is it just for food? 
Are you really in your hands, or do you move them from a distance? Are you present in your cells, inhabiting and filling your body? If you aren’t in your body, what significance is there in your experience this moment? Are you preparing, so that you can be here in the future? Are you setting up conditions by saying to yourself, "When such and such happens I’ll have time, I’ll be here." If you are not here, what are you saving yourself for? 
by Hameed Ali
The House of Belonging by David Whyte

I awoke
 this morning
 in the gold light
 turning this way
 and that

thinking for
 a moment
 it was one
 like any other.

 the veil had gone
 from my
 darkened heart
 I thought

it must have been the quiet
 that filled my room,

it must have been
 the first
 easy rhythm
 with which I breathed
 myself to sleep,

it must have been
 the prayer I said
 speaking to the otherness
 of the night.

 I thought
 this is the good day
 you could
 meet your love,

this is the gray day
 someone close
 to you could die.

This is the day
 you realize
 how easily the thread
 is broken
 between this world
 and the next

and I found myself
 sitting up
 in the quiet pathway
 of light,

the tawny
 close grained cedar
 burning round
 me like fire
 and all the angels of this housely
 heaven ascending
 through the first
 roof of light
 the sun has made.

This is the bright home
 in which I live,
 this is where
 I ask
 my friends
 to come,
 this is where I want
 to love all the things
 it has taken me so long
 to learn to love.

This is the temple
 of my adult aloneness
 and I belong
 to that aloneness
 as I belong to my life.

There is no house
 like the house of belonging.