“There is no passion to be found playing small - in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.”
— Nelson Mandela (via thatkindofwoman)
— Nelson Mandela (via thatkindofwoman)
Wake up, but not too quickly. Give yourself 30 seconds each morning to stretch before rolling out of bed. Reach fingers towards the headboard, and toes towards the wall. Curl into yourself and sigh. Then, stretch out again, feeling the life rush into every limb.
Find your heart. Press an open palm to your ribs and breathe in deep. Find the steady thump, thump, thump that’s keeping you alive. Allow it to settle. Slow down. Sink into that sound, and find comfort in it.
Reach for your notebook; the one that’s resting open and ready on the nightstand, and pull the cap from your pen. Write down everything that comes to mind. Lists. Things to do. Things to be grateful for. Things to remember. Poems, and stories, and whispered confessions. If you do, you might find that your day is more clear. With the busy, gnawing thoughts permanently pressed in ink, there is more space in your mind for joy.
When you finally feel the life in your bones, get up. Place your naked feet on the floor and steal a few breaths. Maybe close your eyes. Bring awareness to the subtle arch of each foot. The sensitive skin on your soles. Notice how the cold floor feels. Then, without losing the awareness, dig up some socks and pull them on.
Keep a blanket wrapped snug around your shoulders until you simply must shed it. Breathe into the fabric and feel your fingers close around the fibers. Rest your eyes. Comforted and cozy, you can begin your day with the heat of the sun on your face, and the feeling of soft, woolen arms draped over your shoulders.
Flick a lighter, strike a match, and light a stick of incense. Be completely present in this act. With every sound, smell, and burning hot ember. This is one of my favorite morning rituals. As the smoke rises and curls around your room, you can offer the incense with intention – to yourself, to your day, to the world.
Now, open a window. Crack the door. Go outside. Let the day permeate. Taste the temperature of the air on your fingers. Allow a hot cloud of breath to escape your lips. Welcome the morning for all it has to offer. Smell adventure on the breeze. Wrap that blanket a bit tighter, and go back inside.
Bring water to a boil on the stove. And with each step – the turning of the faucet, the filling of a silver pot, the click and leap of the flame from the burner – find sweetness. Now, turn that water into something more. Pour it into a mug with lemon, or over a bag of tea, or through a filter filled with dark coffee grounds. Marvel at this transformation.
Sip slowly. There’s no need to rush. Blow the steam away and allow the mug to warm your fingers. Drink your tea, or your water, or your coffee, as if the entire universe rests in the hot liquid. So slowly that you can feel the sharp lemon spark in your nose, or the coffee buzz loud through your blood.
Roll out a yoga mat and listen to the subtle sticking as each fold unfurls. Even if you don’t have time for a full practice, you simply must make time for a few gentle stretches. A quick forward fold. A mindful breath. An intention. Take a moment to find the sweetness in your toes curling onto the rubber. In the beauty of the day that awaits. Know now that this rest – the sweet stillness that you’ve found this morning – is available to you at any time during your day. All you have to do is close your eyes, and reach for it.”
Jared takes a deep breath and then, with measured passion, tells me what he loves about Iceland. I am writing it all down, barely able to keep up.
He loves the way hot water sprouts from the ground like geothermal gold. He loves the way people invite you over for coffee for no particular reason and talk for hours about nothing in particular. He loves the way Icelanders call their country, affectionately, ‘The Ice Cube.’ He loves the fact that, without even trying, he already knows three members of Parliament. He loves the way on a brisk winter day the snow crunches under his feet like heavenly Styrofoam. He loves the choirs that line the main shopping street in December, their voices strong and radiant, turning back the night. He loves the fact that five-year-olds can safely walk to school alone in the predawn darkness. He loves the magical, otherworldly feeling of swimming laps in the middle of a snowstorm. He loves the way, when your car gets stuck in the snow, someone always, always stops to help. He loves the way Icelanders applaud when the plane lands at the international airport in Keflavík just because they’re happy to be home. He loves the way Icelanders manage to be tremendously proud people yet not the least bit arrogant. And, yes, he loves - not tolerates but actively loves - the darkness.”
— Eric Weiner, The Geography of Bliss (via bookquotesforthesoul)
internship applications. also, my life.
— Rumi (via cosmofilius)
— Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via ohfairies)
Where chic meets adorable – this DIY statement wall is juicy! Learn how-to get the look from A Beautiful Mess!
— Unknown (via psych-facts)
— Leo Buscaglia (via abundanceofcalm)
— Hugh Mackay (via agentlemenscoup)