#ife

Life can be awkward at times. It is part of the growing process. ↗

— Jim Fargiano

#life #self #spiritual-growth #life

Question for your life: If love existed an octave above where your vocal range ended, would you buy a dog whistle to get my attention? ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dog-whistle #life #love #octave #question

Sometimes life hands us a mirror and dares us to take a look. ↗

— L.M. Fields

#life #truth #life

Sometimes I feel like one of those sliding tile puzzles. I just get so dang close to what I want to see in the mirror and who I want to be... but then I have to completely jumble up the pieces to try to get even closer. ↗

— Erica Goros

#inspiration #introspection #life #self-help #self-improvement

You can't avoid caring for someone for fear that one day something bad will happen. You will only die alone and afraid. ↗

— Cindy Lyle

#life

The whole war between the atheist and the theist comes down to this: the atheist believes a 'what' created the universe; the theist believes a 'who' created the universe. ↗

— Criss Jami

#atheism #atheist #beginning #belief #cause

We born alone,we all die alone. ↗

— dalin shu

#life #solitude #life

We are pathfinders on a mission, Beholders following the Light, Runners gunning for the prize and Fighters remaining focused...You have been described, do not accept any other description! ↗

— Jaachynma N.E. Agu

#success #life

To the extent that one is responsible for one's life, one is alone. ↗

— Irvin D. Yalom

#life

MOTHER – By Ted Kooser Mid April already, and the wild plums bloom at the roadside, a lacy white against the exuberant, jubilant green of new grass and the dusty, fading black of burned-out ditches. No leaves, not yet, only the delicate, star-petaled blossoms, sweet with their timeless perfume. You have been gone a month today and have missed three rains and one nightlong watch for tornadoes. I sat in the cellar from six to eight while fat spring clouds went somersaulting, rumbling east. Then it poured, a storm that walked on legs of lightning, dragging its shaggy belly over the fields. The meadowlarks are back, and the finches are turning from green to gold. Those same two geese have come to the pond again this year, honking in over the trees and splashing down. They never nest, but stay a week or two then leave. The peonies are up, the red sprouts, burning in circles like birthday candles, for this is the month of my birth, as you know, the best month to be born in, thanks to you, everything ready to burst with living. There will be no more new flannel nightshirts sewn on your old black Singer, no birthday card addressed in a shaky but businesslike hand. You asked me if I would be sad when it happened and I am sad. But the iris I moved from your house now hold in the dusty dry fists of their roots green knives and forks as if waiting for dinner, as if spring were a feast. I thank you for that. Were it not for the way you taught me to look at the world, to see the life at play in everything, I would have to be lonely forever. ↗

— Ted Kooser

#healing #loss #mothers #life