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.
SCHUYLERIf every feeling comes like a wave, I try to decide what kind of coastline I’ll become.
More Schuyler Quotes
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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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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.
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I allow myself to be a weathervane; receive every feeling that greets the shore of me.
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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.
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Change is not a four letter curse word I once believed it to be.
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We’re in spring and I have learned how to be gentle and sharp; strong bark on budding trees. Hold out your hands. I’ll leave a pink kiss and a pocket knife.
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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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Please come here, but not too close.
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There 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.
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Hold me here, where I feel less like a stranger to my own laughter. Where it’s easier to believe things happen for a reason or maybe, at least, out of a thousand winding roads my life might take, I will still find one that fits me.
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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 never lose pieces of me, I just gain new understanding.
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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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I don’t want to be a saint, I want a love I don’t fight alone to keep.
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I’ll craft a haven that that cradles every joy and sorrow, but doesn’t hold them to keep.
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