sleeping at last quotes

by ricocheting off each other.

Another theme of unconditional acceptance of everyone, much like "worthy of love anyway" in Three. Enneagram is entirely about stories of redemption for every individual type. In the case of One and Three which are the types more prone to perfectionism this redemption is about acceptance of oneself.

We all know in our hearts that we're worthy of love but I don't think many people actually believe they're worthy of love. Mostly because of trauma and so much "love" in our lives being conditional, but that isn't love anymore. I hope whoever's reading this knows they're always worthy of love no matter what <3

I hope he finds that word and changes the world for the better

It's so important to never lose hope and try finding some brightness even in the darkest shadows. Lots of people in my life say it's "important" to "love your life" and "find happiness regardless of where you are" or something. I think I'm even starting to believe it myself - that if you don't start finding happiness right where you are, you'll never be happy and that you should be happy and you deserve to be happy. But yeah, a speck of light can reignite the sun. If I had a sharpie (not sponsored) on me, I'd tattoo it on my arm.

Well this one is very similar to lyrics in Mars "losing track of what we're fighting for". I feel like sleeping at last often talks about how futile all efforts are when we give them no meaning or we simply forget the core of what we were after in the first place. It happens more often than not, I think - that we set our minds to something but forget the ultimate purpose of why we're doing it at all.

It's also deeply personal for me since I'm always fighting some kind of fight and I lose track of why I'm even doing all this. It's all for nothing. I should just call off the war, you know?

This one always sparks a lovely visual for me. I imagine a star and the light that emits from it, I imagine the light. The star might die, yes, but the light goes on, unaware the star it originates from no longer exists. The light hits my eyes and I'm not looking at a star anymore, I'm looking at an image, at a subtle echo of what once was. But how brave the light is which persevered even when the only thing it had ever known (the star) was gone.