Author: theglowwworm

I started calling that girl back.The girl who loved living,the girl who danced instead of walking.The girl who had sunflowers for eyes and fireworks in her soul.I started playing music again,hoping she would come out.I started looking for beautiful moments to experience.so she would feel safe enoughto show herself.because I knewshe was in thereAnd she needed my kindnessand my effortto come to the surface again.-sc lourie

I started calling that girl back.
The girl who loved living,
the girl who danced instead of walking.
The girl who had sunflowers for eyes and fireworks in her soul.
I started playing music again,
hoping she would come out.
I started looking for beautiful moments to experience.
so she would feel safe enough
to show herself.
because I knew
she was in there
And she needed my kindness
and my effort
to come to the surface again.
-sc lourie

Just be here with me.Signed: The moon. The stars. Your still-hot-cup-of-coffee. Your daughter. Your son. Your spouse. Your heart. The green grass. The wild flowers. The waters you long to swim in. The color yellow. The color blue. Your favorite poem. Your favorite blanket. The wind in your hair. The waves on the ocean. The mountain air. Your dad. Your mom. The rain. The ice-cream cone. The butter sizzling with garlic in the frying pan. The grocery clerk with sad, kind eyes. Postcards waiting to be sent. The city squirrel. The country squirrel. Jupiter. The photo album. Your grandmother’s rosary. Your favorite song. Ink and paper. Your best friend. The money in your wallet. The fork in your hand. Brushes and paint. Downward Facing Dog. The color turquoise. The almost invisible shade of pink. God. The skyline. The earth beneath your feet. A hammock. The shade of a giant tree. This moment, right here, now. Your bones. Your belly laugh. Your breath. Your breath. Your breath.

Just be here with me.
Signed: The moon. The stars. Your still-hot-cup-of-coffee. Your daughter. Your son. Your spouse. Your heart. The green grass. The wild flowers. The waters you long to swim in. The color yellow. The color blue. Your favorite poem. Your favorite blanket. The wind in your hair. The waves on the ocean. The mountain air. Your dad. Your mom. The rain. The ice-cream cone. The butter sizzling with garlic in the frying pan. The grocery clerk with sad, kind eyes. Postcards waiting to be sent. The city squirrel. The country squirrel. Jupiter. The photo album. Your grandmother’s rosary. Your favorite song. Ink and paper. Your best friend. The money in your wallet. The fork in your hand. Brushes and paint. Downward Facing Dog. The color turquoise. The almost invisible shade of pink. God. The skyline. The earth beneath your feet. A hammock. The shade of a giant tree. This moment, right here, now. Your bones. Your belly laugh. Your breath. Your breath. Your breath.

make your life better by letting go of the attachment to wanting others to perceive you a certain way. trying to control how others perceive you can drag you into people pleasing. you cannot control another’s perception because it is partially formed by their emotional history. yung pueblo

make your life better by letting go of the attachment to wanting others to perceive you a certain way. trying to control how others perceive you can drag you into people pleasing. you cannot control another’s perception because it is partially formed by their emotional history.
yung pueblo