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149 books
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56 voters
“To know the hope and the struggle and the stay still and the run away and the come here and the push back. And also what it is to say yes, to be present exactly where you are.”
―
―
“I’ve lost my wild heart once. Twice. Too many times to count.
I’ve lost her most often when I’ve forgotten myself, when I’ve denied my own truths, when I’ve pushed down the need to create for so long that my heart...she finds better things to do.
The funny thing is, that the losing and the finding are interwoven.
We must lose our wild hearts from time to time, I believe.
We must so that we know why we need them.
We must so that we remember that in order to be found we must go into the wilderness.
Sometimes, it is only in the getting lost that we can find our way back home.”
― Wild Heart Writing: A 30-Day Course to Rediscover Your Deepest Truths
I’ve lost her most often when I’ve forgotten myself, when I’ve denied my own truths, when I’ve pushed down the need to create for so long that my heart...she finds better things to do.
The funny thing is, that the losing and the finding are interwoven.
We must lose our wild hearts from time to time, I believe.
We must so that we know why we need them.
We must so that we remember that in order to be found we must go into the wilderness.
Sometimes, it is only in the getting lost that we can find our way back home.”
― Wild Heart Writing: A 30-Day Course to Rediscover Your Deepest Truths
“Some days we need as much quiet courage as we can muster. NOt to risk our lives or our hearts to break paradigms or change the world. But just to wake up and push through the small and aching spaces. To sit down and do the work. To show up in love and fullness. Sometimes, just those things take so much. If this is you today, know that we are in it together. And there’s got to be some power in that.”
―
―
“Here you are.
Still standing. Fierce with the reality of love and loss. Wearing the truth of our hearts on your tattered sleeves. And yes, this one very nearly took you out. And yes, there were days when the darkness was heavy and the climb out of that rabbit hole required you to mine your depths for strength you didn’t even know you had.
But here you are.
Broken open by hope. Cracked wide by loss. Full of longing and grief and the burn of that phoenix fire. Warrior painted with ashes. Embers from the blaze still clinging to your newborn skin, leaving you forever marked with scars of rebirth.
And just look at you. Heart broken but still beating. Arms empty but still open. Face raised to the sky and giving thanks for the light, even when it hurts your eyes.
My god, you are beautiful.”
―
Still standing. Fierce with the reality of love and loss. Wearing the truth of our hearts on your tattered sleeves. And yes, this one very nearly took you out. And yes, there were days when the darkness was heavy and the climb out of that rabbit hole required you to mine your depths for strength you didn’t even know you had.
But here you are.
Broken open by hope. Cracked wide by loss. Full of longing and grief and the burn of that phoenix fire. Warrior painted with ashes. Embers from the blaze still clinging to your newborn skin, leaving you forever marked with scars of rebirth.
And just look at you. Heart broken but still beating. Arms empty but still open. Face raised to the sky and giving thanks for the light, even when it hurts your eyes.
My god, you are beautiful.”
―
“When it came down to it, she decided, she believed in a few important things.
In humanity before Dogma.
In religion of human kindness.
In Poetry. In Sex.
In being clear enough to ask for what she wanted,
and detaching from ego enough to hear the answer.
In the power of yoga.
In being embodied.
In owning her reality without apology.
In embracing it all, the fuck-ups and the bliss.
In the absolute necessity of dark chocolate to her continued existence.
In the power of a hard swallow of whiskey to make everything clear.
That most of the time we all do the very best we can.
But most of all, she believed that nothing is fixed and unchanging,
Not even the things she believed the most.
That belief, it turns out, is the one that felt the most like freedom.”
―
In humanity before Dogma.
In religion of human kindness.
In Poetry. In Sex.
In being clear enough to ask for what she wanted,
and detaching from ego enough to hear the answer.
In the power of yoga.
In being embodied.
In owning her reality without apology.
In embracing it all, the fuck-ups and the bliss.
In the absolute necessity of dark chocolate to her continued existence.
In the power of a hard swallow of whiskey to make everything clear.
That most of the time we all do the very best we can.
But most of all, she believed that nothing is fixed and unchanging,
Not even the things she believed the most.
That belief, it turns out, is the one that felt the most like freedom.”
―
The Feminist Readers' Network
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— last activity Feb 05, 2023 06:50AM
A space for people interested in and supportive of feminism, feminist literature, and feminist theory.
Jen’s 2025 Year in Books
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