Yes, this life is mine, but more often I watch it take place and my hands feel too far away to touch it.
SCHUYLERThere will be a time where this hurts less and it will not mean it didn’t matter. It means that in the face of feeling something precious slip in my hands, I will always find a way back to myself.
More Schuyler Quotes
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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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Some mornings, I like to live like a secret; wake as quietly as I can, slip out of bed without so much as a wrinkle.
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I want to wade into the water on the sidewalk, crawl out of this feeling without giving it a name. Take a lighter to love’s sticky edges so its sadness isn’t caught in my throat.
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Take me back to the evergreen trees; to the sunlight through the leaves, the bending ferns and fronds. The pitter of the rain, the smooth rocks sleeping under moss. Take me back to the life I know before this body.
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I’d get lost in this green, ferns leaning against the trees, soil stuck to my feet, never dream of finding my way back again.
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This does not have to be a hard life to love. There is not enough time to let it stray too far from my 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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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 know I could be an astronomer of this swooning.
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I’m writing about moving again, and when I write about moving, I really mean beginning. I’m beginning again.
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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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If every feeling comes like a wave, I try to decide what kind of coastline I’ll become.
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Change is not a four letter curse word I once believed it to be.
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I’m remembering again, how loneliness has always made me brave.
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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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