She was made up of delightful contradictions. And as she got older she stopped trying to solve her intensity, her extremes, her sensitivity, and celebrated them instead. They proved she was alive, giving her all, opening herself to life and spontaneity as best she could. The mess she felt was like the raw and untampered beauty of walking into and through the wild. Anything could happen. That meant all the good stuff too. The less she controlled and edited herself, the more meaningful it all became. The more she trusted all her strange ways, the more her wild heart danced in the glory of being untamed. There was no middle road for her. Her path was off the beaten track. It made her soul flame wild and free to finally stop apologising for being and feeling different.
- S.C Lourie/butterfliesand pebbles -
:)
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