It takes monsters to steal souls and fighters to reclaim them. This home [my body] is what I came into this world with. It was the first home. It will be the last home. You can’t take it. Rupi Kaur I found Rupi Kaur recently and I’m loving her. She illustrates, writes and performs spoken…
Category: Poetry
Fill the Universe with You
Untwist yourself little girl. Be whole. You don’t have to make yourself into that uncomfortable position anymore. No one is forcing you to do that. Anymore. And so, untwist. Relax. Be the shape of you, who you really are. Be, go where things fit around you, easily, naturally. Breathe. Be free. Be really free. Grow….
The Journey
This poem by Mary Oliver showed up on my Facebook feed today. The timing was sacred. I really needed to read it today. And I want to reread it and reread it and reread it. I’m putting it on my fridge! I hope it reaches you as deeply as it did me. Annie. The Journey…
Still I Rise
These powerful words written by Maya Angelou speak to me. Annie. Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may tread me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like…
Our Greatest Fear
In case you haven’t had an opportunity to read this yet. I have read that Nelson Mandela used these powerful words, written by Marianne Williamson, in his inauguration speech as President of South Africa. May these words help you stand in your light, in your goodness and in your power. Annie. Our Greatest Fear…
Freedom Calls to Me, Now
[I am only at the beginning of my journey to recovering myself, claiming myself, of my journey to freedom. Many of the shackles that were put on me in the past, by uninformed, unconscious or highly abusive parenting practices when I was a child, have yet to be undone. But being able to write these…
Late Fragment
And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth. Raymond Carver, Late Fragment My tags for this post say all I need to say about it: poetry spirituality Raymond Carver Late Fragment recovery xo…
What Safety
All that was unspoken haunts me now And it haunted me then, too my hell my home What was safety the curl of a serpent’s tongue the Madonna’s mouth taped shut, her hands unwilling, her distant gaze What safety, hell? Annie
Rebel Recovery 