You do not have to be good.Wild Geese
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
by Mary Oliver
I attempted to start a post series back in April of 2018, based on a 31-day journaling prompt collection from the Art of Manliness (AoM). I managed to get only one day pumped out.
I’m trying again. but this time, with success! and you can follow below.
James’s Musings on Self-Reliance
Day 01: Wed 04/03/2019
Day 02: Sat 04/06/2019
Day 03: Wed 04/10/2019
Day 04: Wed 04/17/2019
Day 05: Sat 04/20/2019
Day 06: Tue 05/28/2019
Day 07: Sat 06/02/2019
if you’ve forgotten what exactly it was about, feel free to keep reading for the introductory excerpt from the AoM piece itself.Continue reading
y’all know me. I’m always trying to do a proper series of sorts on here. so here’s another go at it.
below is the intro as written by its creator — so all credit on this post below the cut goes to him.
[…] the universe is so achingly beautiful. And we’re all in it together. We’re all going in the same direction. I’m not here to take control of the wheel. Or to tell you what to believe. I’m just here to tell you that it’s okay to stop. To listen. To change.
read the whole story here….. The Oatmeal – “Believe“
this echoes my thoughts about leaving Louisiana….
Written by Jacob Ibrag
‘How do we know if what we’re doing is right?’
As we drove along the coastline sky, I couldn’t help but
think of the life we left behind. ‘It isn’t anything except a
story we tell ourselves to justify our flight. Maybe we ran
away because we could, maybe we ran away to survive.’
Written by Jacob Ibrag
I don’t think it’s writers block. I think it’s
the missing desire to want and need to transcribe the
images and characters living in my mind ontothis permanent
piece of paper. Once they crawl through these fingers and find
a new home, I become obsolete. All that’s left is, me.
Photography by Paolo Raeli