These hands tell a story. Every line, every spot of darkened skin, every visible vein…
My grandmother is 95 years old. She’s always been strong, both physically and mentally. Wherever she walked, she held her shoulders
It was a trying time. The system in which we had lived for so long, was toppling. Slowly but surely, everything that had been neatly stacked into rows and columns of undeniable truths, was falling apart.
I really feel the cold creeping into my veins. And not in a bad way. It feels more like the sensation I described in a meditation this morning: retreating deeper into the soil, when the icy winds rage above ground. Like the roots of trees are drawing in their...
I am more than my scars. I am more than my suffering. I have laughter, and giggles, and deep thoughts and dreams. My skin tingles with life, and gifts springing forth.
And my darkness was safety, because they know me there. But if I dare
To go beyond the edge of...
It was a trying time. The system in which we had lived for so long, was toppling. Slowly but surely, everything that had been neatly stacked into rows and columns of undeniable truths, was falling apart.
These hands tell a story. Every line, every spot of darkened skin, every visible vein…
My grandmother is 95 years old. She’s always been strong, both physically and mentally. Wherever she walked, she held her shoulders
I am more than my scars. I am more than my suffering. I have laughter, and giggles, and deep thoughts and dreams. My skin tingles with life, and gifts springing forth.
And my darkness was safety, because they know me there. But if I dare
To go beyond the edge of...
I really feel the cold creeping into my veins. And not in a bad way. It feels more like the sensation I described in a meditation this morning: retreating deeper into the soil, when the icy winds rage above ground. Like the roots of trees are drawing in their...