Wounded Healer

  Im terrified of passive aquiescene. I live in intensity. “In case you ever foolishly forget: I am never not thinking of you.” My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness In solitude we give passionate attention to our lives, to our memories, to the details around us. Once conform, once do what other people do because they do it, and a lethargy steals over all the finer nerves and faculties of the soul. She becomes all outer show and inward emptiness, dull, callous, and indifferent. “Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.” “I am rooted, but I flow.” “Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.” “How much better is silence; the coffee cup, the table. How much better to sit...

“She thought in exclamation points”   “I like imagining better than remembering” “For Anne to take things calmly would have been to change her nature. All 'spirit and fire and dew,' as she was, the pleasures and pains of life came to her with trebled intensity. Marilla felt this and was vaguely troubled over it, realizing that the ups and downs of existence would probably bear hardly on this impulsive soul and not sufficiently understanding that the equally great capacity for delight might more than compensate. Therefore Marilla conceived it to be her duty to drill Anne into a tranquil uniformity of disposition as impossible and alien to her as to a dancing sunbeam in one of the brook shallows. She did not make much headway, as she sorrowfully admitted to herself. The downfall of some dear hope or plan plunged Anne into 'deeps of affliction.' The fulfillment thereof exalted her to dizzy realms of delight. Marilla had almost begun to despair of ever fashioning this wai...

  “I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.” ―   Sylvia Plath,  The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath How we need that security. How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need th I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”   “Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering and reordering the chaos of experience.”   “It is as if my life were magically run by two electric currents: joyous positive and despairing negative – whichever is running at the moment dominates my life, floods it....

    You telling story of ravand and hanuman .. and Krishna katha .. bakasur kaaliya naag ghodasur gopiyan naach rahi thi .. wo prakat hue aur fir bhasme kar diya .. !!   Ur going out into the balcony with nani “ chalo nani moon dekhte hain .. ur sun n moon play with the torch .. ur eyes   widening with wonder when told a new concept U draggin someone or other to read out story to u .. or the national geographic animal book .. again n again n ud listen with wonderment ..   then ud recount them word to word n so eloquently .. n ud smile quietly n look nonchalant but secretly pleased with our appreciation   My cute baby dancing rhythmically n doing yoga so cutely .. in front of laptop during online classes.. esp if papa was watching.. it was all 1,2,3 .. perfectly timed   Ur show n tell classes where u always made us proud with ur renditions   Ur fav story – the selfish crocodile in ur sprawling austraalian accent that ud picked u...