Page 2 - Surviving Storms News Today

When your mask cracks,  you can repair it or pull  it apart and feel how you  were born.    When the story you’ve  relied on rips, you can stitch  it back

  I invite you to practice intimacy. You may think, does he mean “practice making love?” Yes, but not with your body. I invite you to practice making

  If you drop a plate, or in   frustration, throw it against   a wall—Well, you get the idea.    Speed releases violence.    Or you could use it

After a lifetime of teaching, I’ve come to believe that you can’t change anyone. So, what am I doing in the many circles I convene all over the world?

  You’ve both been gone for eight   years and I am turning seventy. I still   miss what we never had. Even when you   were here, I had become my own

I was in the hammock  watching the breeze through  the willows when you and Zuzu  climbed in. We laughed, your  feet in the crook of my arm,  Zuzu’s tail

On the way home, a magician   stops you with his banter as he   discovers a quarter behind your   ear, and suddenly there’s a soft-  ness in the back of

Because eating-air-without-holding-back tastes like   music. It’s why I stop when kissing your shoulder,   stalled in the wisdom of your skin. Look how

  In a moment of weariness with  who he has become, a sex trader  tells the six frightened girls cornered  in the back of a laundry that he will  let one

  When I try to describe you  to someone who doesn’t know  you, I smile deep inside, as I do  when remembering a hike up a   mountain or a day at the