You Are Wonderful xx

Posted on 12th April 202613th April 2026 Posted in ClippingTagged art, artistic expression, Authenticity, community, community awareness, compassion, emotional insight, feelings, generosity, gifts, grief, growth, heart, kindness, Life, life writing, longing, love, Poems, poets, self-awareness, support7 Comments

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.

And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Antonio Machado

Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work; a future.

To be courageous is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences.

To be courageous is to seat our feelings deeply in the body and in the world: to live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on.

Courage is what love looks like when tested by the simple everyday necessities of being alive.

David Whyte

May you always picture where you are as where you’re meant to be.

May you take in your surroundings like you visited especially.

May you share brews and bruises and may you do this tenderly. You are the most improved you there has ever been.

May you be seriously silly, may you be wickedly kind.

May you be brilliantly dumb sometimes and yet stupidly bright.

May you certainly have doubts, may your weirdness be the norm.

May the coolest thing about you be your warmth.

May you be powerfully vulnerable, or at least mightily soft.

May you be a contradiction, and yet at the same time not.

And, whether you are any, none or all of the above, above all, may you know that you are loved.

May you always make room for playfulness.
It may just save your life. And trust whatever makes your heart grow cannot be a waste of time.

And you are never too busy to catch your breath.
Just as you cannot be in traffic without being traffic, life is not something that you are stuck in while it happens. There is more in you than you could possibly imagine.

The very fact that you exist makes everything a bit more magic.

When it all feels too much and there is little you can do, may you still see the best in people and may people include you.

May one thing match the gravity of all you’ve ever done. This wonderful reality: the best is yet to come.

Harry Baker

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Het Verdriet van België

Posted on 1st April 202614th April 2026 Posted in PersonalTagged abandonment, art, artistic expression, Authenticity, book, books, compassion, contemporary, contemporary literature, depression, emotional insight, feelings, gifts, grief, growth, heart, heartbreak, isolation, kindness, Life, life writing, literature, loneliness, longing, love, poetry, poets, sadness, self-awareness, support4 Comments

Time Is Not Going Anywhere

Posted on 19th March 202610th April 2026 Posted in ClippingTagged art, artistic expression, compassion, contemporary literature, depression, emotional insight, feelings, generosity, grief, heart, heartbreak, isolation, kindness, Life, literature, loneliness, longing, love, poetry, sadness, support3 Comments

Must We Speak Love

Posted on 9th March 202615th March 2026 Posted in PoemTagged art, community, community awareness, compassion, emotional insight, feelings, generosity, grief, growth, heart, kindness, Life, life writing, longing, love, poetry, poets, self-awareness, support9 Comments

In these tough times, must we speak about love, flowers, books, and poetry and rainbows? Yes we must.

Writers must write, and poets must keep poetry flowing through their brain into longing souls.

We must let our words do what they do, and that is to exist as tomorrow is not promised.

We must wake up with our hearts open, tending to our being on earth with patience and care.

We must brew our coffee and look around us and keep each other safe, and not let any force divide us.

We must remember, feel, love in everything we say, and do. We must be kind, or try to be. As much as we can.

We must press gently each other’s wounds to acknowledge them and take them into our consideration before we speak.

We must embrace the differences of our skin and love all colours and marvel at the oranges of the sunset, and rainbows at the end of stormy rain.

We must keep each other close to our hearts. And our minds, and remind each other of hope and compassion, the long road ahead of us.

We must treat heartache, misunderstanding, baseless assumptions, misplaced hostility as parts of our humaneness.

We must not forget our humility, our tenderness, our blossoming into the vast forest that is life, our becoming.

We must consider others’ hearts, sorrow in their face, their vulnerability, so we can start our path into generosity.

We must thank each other, and look each other in the eye, and speak low.

We must teach each other to sit with our discomforts so there will be less shouting, lashing out, anger and frustration.

We must understand differences and try to find peaceful middle ground. Build one. Make one.

We must think of children, waterfalls, the lakes and the seas. The quiet wisdom from the oceans that have been carrying out the earth for centuries.

We must study resilience from that of wildflowers sprouting everywhere in the cold and rain and snow.

We must touch the grass to feel the softness of our hands. To remind us that we are capable of loving. That we are love. And therein, we must speak love.

We must begin, again.

What I Know Now

Posted on 28th February 20261st March 2026 Posted in ClippingTagged abandonment, anxiety, art, artistic expression, Authenticity, community, community awareness, compassion, contemporary, contemporary literature, depression, emotional insight, february, feelings, generosity, grief, growth, heart, heartbreak, isolation, kindness, Life, literature, loneliness, longing, love, Poems, poetry, poets, sadness, self-awareness, support8 Comments

The Cure for Anything

Posted on 29th January 202629th January 2026 Posted in ClippingTagged artistic expression, Authenticity, community, community awareness, compassion, emotional insight, feelings, generosity, gifts, grief, heart, heartbreak, kindness, Life, loneliness, longing, love, sadness, self-awareness, support13 Comments

Kindness Makes Me Go Ah

Posted on 23rd October 202515th March 2026 Posted in Diaries, PersonalTagged anxiety, art, Authenticity, community, community awareness, compassion, contemporary, contemporary literature, depression, endyear, feelings, grief, happy holidays, heart, heartbreak, holidays, isolation, kindness, Life, life writing, literature, loneliness, longing, love, poetry, sadness, self-awareness, support12 Comments

Kindness grows teeth sometimes, but they’re made of sugar. They melt when you look at them too long. I hold one on my tongue until it disappears, and I think, this is what it means to care for something that doesn’t belong to you.

The clover keeps multiplying behind my eyes. I blink and it’s a meadow. I blink again and it’s a mirror. In it, I see myself saying ah, like I’ve just remembered a song I use to sing before I knew what words were.

Love isn’t for building or breaking or even keeping warm. It’s a cloud that doesn’t know it’s raining. It drifts into your mouth, and you swallow it, and then you have to learn to speak gently, because the cloud lives there now.

I think the beluga is still swimming, even when I stop believing in oceans. I think kindness swims, too — it loops around, forgets its name, finds it again in someone’s half-asleep voice. I think we go ah not because it’s easy, but because something inside us wants to be touched without being asked why.

And maybe that’s the whole idea— not for love, not for anything, really — just for the quiet sound of ah, soft as breath, soft as forgiveness, soft as learning to stay.

Kindness leans against the door as if it knows I am still learning to hold things without owning them.

Some days, my want grows wings. My want doesn’t go far, but it keeps trying. It circles the clover, small and dizzy, the way love circles us — shy, relentless, pretending not to care.

The beluga rises again in my mind. I imagine her exhaling a silver thread that ties the whole ocean together — my heart, your hands, the moon’s tired shoulder. All of it shimmering and infinite.

I think that’s what softness means — it’s willing. Willing to dissolve, to laugh in the middle of crying, to open your palms and let the meadow grow wild.

I keep saying ah, a small devotion, a secret handshake with the world. Ah for the clover. Ah for the sugar. Ah for the breath that stays kind, even when no one’s listening.

tiny hearts

Tag: support