My well will never run dry;
As long as I am well - fed, read, and rounded; may I never lack what I need;
Even as life kneads, to mold me into some version of myself;
I will remain moist - full of flavor and unyieldingly myself. A queen.
(reflections from friends and loved ones)
Self love is...
...accepting who you are, and believing in the person you want to be.
...being happy and accepting of your own skin.
...when your main source of happiness isn't someone else; when you can spend time with yourself without wishing other people were there; it's taking care of yourself mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.
...loving yourself enough to know when others are taking you for granted.
...the best love ever; not allowing people to make you feel less important.
...accepting yourself and being comfortable with who you are; you're not bogged down by constant insecurities and you have a positive mindset.
...putting yourself first in terms of how you view yourself; making certain to others that 'self' is the priority before anything else when it comes to your emotional/mental state.
...when you can accept and appreciate yourself just the way you are.
...always making an effort to be better to yourself both mentally and physically; also finding beauty in what makes you unique.
...knowing and truly believing that you are worthy of love just the way you are.
...appreciating the way God made you, as is.
...accepting all of who or what you are and all of who or what you are not.
...doing what't best for you.
...being able to be truthful to yourself and others; if you are genuine, you don't have to lie to yourself or others.
...getting to a point where you're entirely comfortable in your own skin and unaffected by the validation or disapproval of society.
...the first principle of love; self love improves self confidence and the belief in oneself; what you have, you can give to others - hence, if you appreciates yourself, you can easily appreciate others.
...knowing what you deserve in life; it's self respect and setting boundaries for people not to cross, having time to be alone without feeling anxious, treating your body like a temple, and also having mindfulness to listen to your emotions and act accordingly.
...when you love yourself completely - irrespective of shape, size, skin, scars, flaws and all; no one can tell you differently because you love the person you've become.
...when you know you're not perfect but you don't give a fuck about it (;
At what point do we escape the realm of the past?
When are we allowed to forgive ourselves?
People who made the bad parts of us come to life?
Or do we always live with the memories of what it was like to be
Where we were?
What we were?
In that mindset?
Do we ever truly move on?
How do we reconcile our past, present, and future desires to create one…whole…self?
Being in this place, I see a lot;
but I'm not always seen. Though I'm told I'm always being watched.
I know It's my perception that I'm invisible;
And I pretend it doesn't bother me - but I know it does.
We don't always get what we want in this life, do we?
They say knowing yourself is the greatest weapon;
I used to question what that meant - how could that possibly help you
more than knowing the faults of your opponents?
But it's true;
knowing yourself - knowing your truth...
can get you through any, any hardship;
and that's better than winning a competition against any 'other.'
To walk boldly in the light of your life, everyday, in the rain and the sun, is what's called a radical act of self-love.
The world would like to see us frown - because misery loves company. And for one reason or another, when you're happy, it must be for some purpose, or from some root.
But happiness can be a constant. Soul-fullness can be part of everyday. Part of each moment.
We need not push so hard to attain what can come naturally. The feeling in your chest when you smell freshly baked bread, or when the warm breeze brushes against your arms. No person or nothing can give or take that.
It is all within. And it is special. All we need is right where we already have it.
Tonight I was moved by a Paul Coelho quote that reads, "Two things prevent us from happiness; living in the past and observing others."
They say comparison is the thief of joy, and I completely agree.
No two lives are the same, no matter how similar they may look. Inherently, we are as different from each other as our fingerprints differ from their siblings.
I need to remember this - and then smile, because my life is the best one I can live.
"Nkem's eyes are like black pearls." - Korean head teacher
Well, I'm happy that's a good thing.
From afar it looked as though they would never cross paths. She was engrossed in the thick novel just below her gaze atop the green marble coffee table, and he was engrossed in his phone, thumb swiftly moving in all discernible directions before momentarily settling on a space, only to revert to swiping and scrolling. As I sat across the room, sipping my too hot latte and forgetting all that was in my periphery, I focused my energy on these two people, these strangers, willing them to meet each other. She tucked her stray lock into her bun and turned the page, yet again, almost never blinking as it seemed. I wondered what she was reading and why it was so enthralling. I shifted to him to find his head slightly tilted with one eye on her, one hand on his chin. So he noticed something. Shaking his head somewhat, he returned to his phone, unoccupied fingers lightly grazing the edge of the table. Hmm, that’s new. Suddenly, setting his phone down, he looked up at her again, as though he’d resolved to draw in her attention. I figure she probably felt someone looking at her, and that’s why she broke the sacred novel-human connection to meet this man’s eyes…
I'm not a poet. And often when I write "poetry," I feel like a fraud.
Like I'm trying to be some version of deep that others can relate to,
or at least what others can identify with.
And who can blame me, when society's depictions of who we're supposed to be
are ever-so-pervasive. Constant inundations of what we should and shouldn't do...
No wonder I have trouble distinguishing whether my thoughts are my own or merely recycled and
But, I carry on. Because through it all, I continue to find my voice.
Continue on, so that as time progresses, these external impressions become less deep. #growth
Lazy, uninspired, unmotivated, distracted. Those were the initial thoughts that circled through his mind as he struggled to open one eye, and then the other. Keo was the type of man to act on impulse and never regret a decision; he was the guy to rile up a crowd, or subdue a group whenever necessary. He had a lot going for him interpersonally, it seemed. You see, Keo was just one of those people that others were drawn towards. People on the outskirts of his life, onlookers if you will, almost always sensed a gravitational pull. Looking at Keo directly, you’d never understand why. He was an average looking man. Smooth skin and long limbs; less than rock hard parts, but a solid stature. It was only the group of people close to Keo that knew the reason for his allure. They knew it wasn’t how he smiled, or his immense vernacular, or because of a certain social clout. Keo had magic. He had a fire inside him that burned from the time he was a fetus to this very point in his life. Not many people have such enchantment within them – it’s not for everyone, after all. You see, Keo’s mother had lived many lives before his conception. Lives filled with mystery and density. Lives that can only be seen to be understood. Lives that leave you wanting more. And then there were the lives that anyone would be happy to leave in the past. By the time Keo’s mother became pregnant, the embers of her many existences began to comprise a sort of power; an internal glow – that fire that propelled her into those sundry realities making her who she was.
An approximate nine months after a life-altering occurrence, Keo came into the world with the simultaneous pressure that took his mother in the throes of bearing down. So, his story isn’t as normal as Keo appears. Why is it that on this particular morning, feelings of inadequacy, a frequent visitor to the average human, were all that occupied his mind?
Today was the first time I was cognizant of the feeling "I am exactly where I need to be." For those moments, I wasn't thinking about the past, yearning for the future, or wishing more and/or different people were in my presence. I was just fulfilled. I was at peace with what I was doing and who I was with. And I recognized that sensation. I didn't let it slip by. Ughh, it felt so good!
Why is it
that when I plan to write,
inspiration never comes?
But when I write to plan,
all I can see are unchained words
and scribbles reflecting my mind's eye?
Plans never made to blueprint form
make me catch myself in stillness,
shake my head,
and remember to flow.
As I lay in bed this morning, blinking, trying to catch the first moments of the day, I thought "I can clearly and vividly remember who I was 10 years ago." Not only did this make me feel aged (not old, but aged like a fine wine, or aged cheese), it made me wonder if I'd retained any of that teenager I was a decade ago. I can say I have. I've got the same essence, but I'm just a bit wiser and well traveled now.