Quotes About Connection

A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely.

Helpful Reminders for Fathers and Other Birth Companions

Driving a cab is not really a nurturing type of relationship. You take people and they tip you, they may not tip you, you don't know their names, they don't care about you, you don't care about them.

We're all in this together. And every time we judge or think anything less than charitable about anyone, we crucify ourselves. We inflict self-pain.

All we want, whether we are honeybees, ponderosa pines, coyotes, human beings, or stars, is to love and be loved, to be accepted, cherished and celebrated simply for being who we are. Is that so very difficult?"—DERRICK JENSEN, AMERICAN AUTHOR AND ENVIRONMENTAL ACTIVIST

Mother Nature (aka the natural world before humans imposed fear on her) provides for every single need.

the heavens and the earth. In fact, that's the only big difference between Jesus

Great spirit is everywhere. It is not necessary to speak to him in a loud voice. He hears whatever is in our minds and hearts." —BLACK ELK, LAKOTA MEDICINE MAN Most

What I'd like to suggest in this three-day experiment is that all the important stuff you need to know is happening right outside your window, right there in your neighborhood, right in your own heart.

3.   We're all in this together. If we take care of one another and go the extra mile to appreciate and play together, we all gain—each one of us is lifted up. Sure, we could walk alone to the finish line. But the real joy comes from tackling the journey together, from raising our voices in one mighty, unified wahoo!

Love gets bigger after forty," Fenton tells me. "After forty,, love says, 'Come one, come all.

We call such a limited number of relationships love in our lives, but there is always love around us—it's as ubiquitous as oxygen.

I have always believed that if I pay strict attention while I am out in the physical world—and for me that often meant the natural world—the physical world will give me everything I need to tell my stories" (78). —Deep Creek: Finding Hope in the High Country

We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That's the most terrible, the most painful in my entire repertoire of self-torturing thoughts. But it isn't dead yet and neither are we. Are we going to drop the earth off at the vet, say goodbye at the door, and leave her to die in the hands of strangers? We can decide, even now, not to turn our backs on her in her illness. We can still decide not to let her die alone.

We are up in the attic doing a jigsaw puzzle, which may be the single fastest way one OCD person reveals herself to another.

When you do something nice for somebody, it is just like walking around a temple. It is just like saying a prayer.

When you give yourself wholly to a piece of ground, its goodness enters your bloodstream like an infusion. You will never be alone the same way again, and never quite dislocated. Your heart will grow down into and back out of that ground like a tree.

There is love in these old logs and in RJ's workmanship and I can feel it every time I walk inside. We call such a limited number of relationships love in our lives, but there is always love around us—it's as ubiquitous as oxygen. It lives in the houses where we've slept, the kitchens where we've cooked, in the food we've prepared for the people we love and in the walls we have shaped with our hands.

You got some synchronicity happening in your life right now?

We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That's the most terrible, the most painful in my entire repertoire of self-torturing thoughts.

Conversations in French bubble around me like a long-forgotten perfume I am desperate to inhale. Familiar words trickle back, first in a stream then a river, though I've scarcely heard them in half a century.

But the truth was when it came to grief, each person was an island, alone. She'd learned that the hard way. She had tried to join a war widows group in New York shortly after she had arrived. She'd hoped she would find some connection that would help her break through the wall that seemed to have formed around her heart, but as she sat among those sorry women who had supposedly known what she had gone through, she had never felt more alone.

Simon and I are like young children I have seen in the park sitting beside each other in the sandbox but playing alone, not interacting. Two people living separate lives in the same space.

But in her grief, I saw the richness of their marriage