What beautiful words 😭
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When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice | 
What beautiful words 😭
After nearly losing my mother earlier this year and my father‘s passing this month, I picked up this book and it is really hitting. Just 25 pages in, I want to get a copy for every mother and everyone I know who has a mother.
pickInterweaving stories of life as an environmentalist and activist, with memories of dealing with the grief of losing her mother, Williams has created a classic for years to come.
I‘ve always loved the way Williams writes. It‘s so evocative and grounded, even while taking flight. It‘s a tough read, and a little slow to start, but so worth it. Her writing was a staple of my English degree. 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌑
I came across a post from @Tkimsal about 30 book recommendations in 30 days and I'm loving the idea of sharing favourites that I recommend often. So glad I saw your post Tony!
Day 1: I come back to this book over and over. It is such a thoughtful and soul nourishing read. It asks more questions than it answers, which is perfect. I have so many underlined passages that I can just flip through and find what I need any time I want. #30recsin30days
pick“If ever there was a story without a shadow, it would be this: that we as women exist in direct sunlight only.”
Wow wow wow! This book was so beautiful!!! This was the first book I saved to my TBR when I got this app and it just became available through my library app. What a lovely look at the role of women and their relationship with nature and the world 💕
📖 When Women Were Birds & Wild Magic
💻 Lindy West/Martha Wells
📺 The West Wing
🎼 The White Stripes
🎧 We Will Rock You - Queen & Wrecking Ball - Interpol
#manicmonday #letterW
I‘m a day behind for my #7books7days so this is day number 2. This book is just moving.
This quote is really sticking with me.
Last line: Each day I begin with the empty page.
The world us already split open, and it is our destiny to heal it, each in our way, each in our own time,with the gifts that are ours.
There are so many ways to change the sentences we have been given.
What is time? sacred time, but the acceleration of consciousness?
Do any of us ever fully understand the consequences of our actions?
The body doesnt lie.
Words cast a shadow. Without a shadow there is no depth. Without a shadow there is substance. If we have no shadow, it means we are invisible.
Your voice is the wildest thing you own.
When I want to see the furthest into my soul,I will write a senrence by hand and then write another sentence over it, follows by anotherm An entire paragraph eill live in one line, and no one else can read it. That is the point.
Nature has a voice and it is often brutal without cause.
Beauty is transformed over time, and not without destruction.
Remember that you compliment each other not consume each other.
What is positive and what is negative is not absolute.
Nor does love have to be all or nothing. Neither does power.
Life spirals in and then spirals out on any given day.
We can change, and transform our own conditioning. We can choose to move like water rather than be molded like clay.
Empty pages become possibilities.
Love is power. Power is not love. Both can be brutal. Both dance with control. Both can be intoxicating,leaving us out of control.
I forage for the deatils left, overlooked, discarded.
The most beautiful words cannot be written, unfortunately.
..my own voice continues to be found wherever I am being present and responding from my heart, moment by moment.
Sorrow has a voice. It is a cold scream of silence turned inward.
Weve been raised to question what we know, to discount and discredit the authority of our gut.
When we dont listen to our intuition, we abandon our souls.
Empower women, and you empower the community.
We can no longer deny the destiny that is ours by becoming women who wait-- waiting to love, waiting to speak, waiting to act. This is not patience but pathology.
Reading has not only changed my life but saved it. The right books picked at the right times...
Perfection is a flaw disguised as control.
I was borrowing a landscape until I found my own.
Having children could wait. My desire to find my own voice in the world could not.
...each woman must come to age herself-- she must find her true center alone.
Finding ones voice is a process of finding ones passion.
Literature was life, and reading became an open door to a world beyond the familiar.
Silence leaves me alone in a place of feeling. It is not necessarily a place of comfort.
Responsibility is not a garment they could shed.
What is evolution if not creative adaptation and the progression of our own souls.
Words have a weight to them. How you choose to present them and to whom is a matter of style and choice.
Writing also requires an aching curiosity leading you to discover, uncover,what is gnawing at your bones.
To write requires an ego, a belief that what you say matters.
We are made of stardust.
