Garden for the Soul

Tienes que aprender a levantarte de la mesa cuando ya no se sirve el amor.

I want you to tell me about your current interests,

I want you to make me listen to your new favourite songs,

I want you to tell me what's bothering you,

I want to hear your laugh,

I want to be there when you cry,

wrestling with Mother Earth,

thinking we can outsmart her,

while laying claim to her body

With clumsy, heavy hands.

She stood patiently these years,

but her tolerance has run dry.

We have torn into her sides,

drained her life for our greed,

and now she will repay.

Who are we but ants upon her skin,

washed away by her wrath?

She is reclaiming her own,

filling lakes that we bled dry.

Her tears rush from the mountains

dissolving roads and bridges.

And who are we to stand against her?

How arrogant we are

The dark side considers me a regular by now. I don’t even ask for directions home anymore. I can find my way out of it.

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Feels strange to say that. It doesn't quite feel okay to believe it. But it is. It's true and more than okay to believe.

Sharing for others who could use it.

You've got to know when to hold 'em, 

know when to fold 'em, 

Know when to walk away, 

know when to run.

It’s ironic how we put the most pressure on the ones we love the most. I mean… really. We don’t expect much from strangers, only the ones we feel the closest to. That’s why we get so disappointed when things don’t turn out the way we expect them to. I have come to the conclusion that it’s wise to assess people first and figure out what their capabilities are and then learn how to adjust expectations, just so you’re not a burden to them but a joy to be around.

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We’re not complicated.

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What heals us more than love and understanding?

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