Bones to me

 


Source: Aparna Nancherla (via Paper Ghosts)

It’s been a long day

ballerini-dance

I have no bones…
there are days when I could leap up to the clouds —
days when I haven’t the strength to turn the pages of a book.

– Gustave Flaubert, from Intimate Notebook: 1840-1841


Notes:

Lightly child, lightly.

bird-in-hand
[…]
This is what I want.
I want to keep the past like a pearl on my tongue,
to inherit the salt in my skin. I want to learn how horizon can curve
back into itself so I can say what ocean says of wreckage: Dive into
my chest, stay as long as you can breathe, chart this hull of bones.

Bryce Emley, from “Everything All at Once (My Self as Ocean)


Notes:

  • Photo – mennyfox55. Poem: Memory’s Landscape
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

 

Bang our very bones to roust our own souls

woman-tattoo-guitar

Unless we learn to let experience play upon our inner lives as on a finely tuned instrument, we will try to manufacture inner intensity from the outside, we will bang our very bones to roust our own souls. We crave radical ruptures when we have allowed the nerves of our inner lives to go numb. But after those ruptures— the excitement or the tragedy, the pleasure or the pain— the mind returns to what it was, the soul quicksilvers off from the pierce of experience, and the kingdom of boredom…begins the clock-tick toward its next collapse.

~ Christian Wiman, My Bright Abyss: Meditation of a Modern Believer


Photograph: Beza17

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