Like most sensitive souls, you already know you’re sensitive. You soak up others’ moods and desires like a sponge. You absorb sensation the way a paintbrush grasps each color it touches on a palette. The ethereal beauty of a dandelion, the shift of a season, the climax of a song, or a certain stirring scent can evoke such wonder it’ll behave as your very breath itself- moving through cells as fuel does to fire and wind does to waves.— Victoria Erickson (via thewastedgeneration)
We have a government that says it’s okay to eat Twinkies and Cocoa Puffs and Mountain Dew, but it’s illegal to drink raw milk and eat compost-grown tomatoes and Aunt Matilda’s pickles.—
From sustainable farmer Joel Salatin. Quote captured by Amy Eddings on WNYC Culture blog.
Despite what you may have been taught, your sensitivity doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t make you too emotional, too soft, or in any way too much. It has always been and will always be a strength. The truth is that you can be soft and still be strong. You aren’t a rock, immune to the shift and pull of the world around you. You’re the ocean. Always ebbing and flowing; easily affected by the moon and the weather. But immense and deep. Resilient and powerful. Bounding with life. Yes, you feel things intensely and yes, you’re easily wounded by others. But it’s the intensity of your feelings that gives you such incredible insight into who you are and what you need to feel whole. It’s that intensity that makes you deeply connected to yourself and the world around you. And it’s your wounds that allow you to be empathetic and compassionate towards the wounds of others. Wounds that give you an awareness to recognize when people are hurting, and tools to offer support in ways that less sensitive people might not be able to. I know that it’s so hard to believe in the moment when you feel incapacitated by your feelings, but your sensitivity is a truly a gift. Don’t let anyone, including yourself, convince you otherwise.— Daniell Koepke (via thewastedgeneration)
Sometimes there is no warning. Things occur in seconds. Everything changes. You’re alive. You’re dead. And things move on.— Charles Bukowski (via apleasurablemalady)
We are paper thin. We exist on luck amid the percentages, temporarily. And that’s the best part and the worse part, the temporal factor. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You can sit on top of a mountain and meditate for decades and it’s not going to alter. You can alter yourself into acceptability but maybe that’s wrong too. Maybe we think too much. Feel more, think less.
When something bothered me, I didn’t talk with anyone about it. I thought it over all by myself, came to a conclusion, and took action alone. Not that I really felt lonely. I thought that’s just the way things are. Human beings, in the final analysis, have to survive on their own.— Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (via slowimpulse)
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