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  • #144 Turning a blind eye

    We’re not able to see almost everything in life and are blind to only a couple of things.

    We’re blind to almost everything in life and are able to see only a couple of things.

    And of the things we are able to see, we (consciously or subconsciously) focus on an even smaller subset, and then turn a blind eye to the rest.


    To live a creative life, there’s no need to create anything new.

    Open your eyes, prick up your ears, smell the air, and feel the earth beneath your feet.

    Then open your heart, taste your thoughts, sense subtle shifts, and heed the voice in your head.

    When you marry your inner and outer world
    insights unfurl.

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    #137 Until here and no further

    I’ll never believe I can write until I allow myself to write.

    I’ll never believe I can grow my body stronger until I allow myself to do do something consistently to grow my body stronger.

    I’ll never believe I can mend a mistreated mind until I allow my mind to be mended.

    I’ll never believe I can heal a broken heart until I allow myself to start loving again.


    You don’t start doing something because you believe you can do it.

    You do it because you find leverage to allow yourself to do it, even if it feels outside your comfort zone.

    Until here, and no further.

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    #32 Before I learned not to listen

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would stand
    seemingly still
    but secretly swaying
    swallowed up by a willow tree
    and its play with the wind

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would hold my head against the rind
    reach
    reconnect with an old friend
    the way it has always felt best
    cheek pressed to chest

    Before I learned not to listen
    a breeze in the leaves
    rustling ruminating
    would sound like raindrops in my ears
    making my eyes answer
    with a torrent of tears

    Before I learned not to listen
    a rolling thunder
    thumping like a beating heart
    would rumble from my cheek to my ear
    replacing my fear
    with a memory I used to held dear
    we were never really apart

    Before I learned not to listen
    before the lust for language
    reduced what I could see
    and sense within
    I would allow the whispers of the wordless world
    speak to me like kin

    Before I learned not to listen
    I would accept
    that once upon a time
    I remembered your name
    and once upon a time we both knew
    we were one and all the same

    Lukas Van Vyve

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