nothing happens, and then, all of a sudden, it already has.
(Source: agenttdunham, via beebuzzes)
you’ve got it all wrong. you didn’t come here to master unconditional love. that is where you came from and where you’ll return.
you came here to learn personal love.
infused with divinity. lived through the grace of stumbling. demonstrated through the beauty of messing up. often.
you didn’t come here to be perfect. you already are.
you came here to be gorgeously human. flawed and fabulous. and then to rise again into remembering.
but unconditional love? stop telling that story.
love, in truth, doesn’t need any other adjectives. it doesn’t require modifiers. it doesn’t require the condition of perfection.
it only asks that you show up. and do your best. that you stay present and feel fully. that you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and play and work and live and die as you.
it’s enough. it’s plenty.
[courtney a. walsh]
I’m not ready for summer to end.
(Source: dragana-d, via annie)
Monkey Chow: PSA: Bra Edition -
ladies… trust me on this.
just to add a little color to the conversation, I wore pull over american apparel and gap yoga bras for years. regular (underwire, clasp, etc.) bras felt uncomfortable and made me feel like a chubster. I stopped in to journelle one day, after noticing a friend’s cute bra. the sales lady asked what size I was planning to buy (34C/36C), looked at my very incredulously, and suggested I get sized. aaaand… the actual size I should be wearing is closer to 30E (is that even a thing?!). I put myself in the hands of the awesome sales team at journelle and let them pick out lots of options in this weird size that didn’t seem real. and they were totally right. now I literally feel like a bra model every day. just like that. it’s magic.
new tattoo while I’m in chicago?
I’m pretty excited to be this at the chicago marathon.
(Source: vneckandacardigan, via starryandwideeyedgaze)
is a living room wall
with awkwardly placed photographs
hiding fist-shaped holes. — andrea gibson | class
(Source: millionen, via thatkindofwoman)
good morning friends! I just wanted to stop in and let you know that I’m still here, planning to come back, planning to write.
this summer has been a little rough, and I’ve been focusing inward a bit more. I’ve sought distraction and guaranteed happiness and to help others. I’ve run on the beach and laid out in the sun and held friends’ babies. I needed a break from thinking deeply about myself. I needed to keep busy.
but I’ve been checking in on you all, and keeping track of your tumblr lives, and I’m looking forward to joining you again in this little community very, very soon.
I have learned things from dan: how to sit quietly beside a person who needs my presence, how to operate a lift and strap a wheelchair into a van. but I am resistant to the idea, occasionally suggested, that disabled people are here to teach us something about the value of human existence, that the rest of us should treasure what we have, for it might be taken from us tomorrow. the lives of disabled people have intrinsic importance, independent of whatever they might offer the able bodied. when accidents like dan’s occur, our first instinct is to scour them for meaning, but there is no cosmic truth here. there is only the random lightning strike, the explosion of a dying planet—only suffering and our capacity to overcome it.
drew nelles | body and soul