For now, I’ll bring what I can to my own four walls. I recognize the purpose, the promise of this: a church is made by its space, by its practices.
SCHUYLERMeet me where happiness doesn’t feel like a false spring.
More Schuyler Quotes
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We’ve never seen what a happy life could look like if we chose to spend it by ourselves – sharing our beautiful lives with friends, family members, the occasional crush, and lounging out in that quiet space alone as if an idyllic sunned beach.
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In a dream, my fingertips pulse. I’ll be patient in my blooming. In a dream, I let time pass through open hands.
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I’m thinking about how early the spring flower buds rise up from the grass; just barely on winter’s heels. How uncomfortable, how cold the soil must be, still half-frosted, when the roots start to take shape.
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Your anger, your sorrow, your fear, are okay to feel through, no matter how big it feels now.
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My love lives in my cheeks – gives me away by the first smile. all the lines from years spent laughing, warm with extra freckles in the summer; a poker face that doesn’t keep once my knees fold.
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I don’t want to be a saint, I want a love I don’t fight alone to keep.
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I never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
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People have been washed away by less. I’ll take every step gently. So often, you can’t tell the rush of a riptide until you’re already at sea.
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How radiant you are, waiting by the window, watching for the sun to grant you more time to dance beneath it. You’ve let yourself dream again. Even if its in bites, even if it’s in a different voice than it used to be.
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I sit on the bare floor, leave my palms unturned, and watch relief pool into one hand, and uncertainty in the next. I will try not to lean more one way or another, but let them hold each other as company.
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I descend into an unopened sky, the ocean floor, the final embrace of a graveyard. Find your fill of me before my blue pales like a sour moon.
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I know I could be an astronomer of this swooning.
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I’m choosing to believe things are getting better again. The give and take of joy, remembering a few days of ache does not mean forever.
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I still know the fabric of where I begin and end.
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I will still live like a ghost in the mornings; walking, listening, pouring coffee to finish sometime by the afternoon, when I’ve had enough of watching the world and do all I can to live in it.
SCHUYLER