Called myself broken for many years, believed something defective in the way I loved. Said it early, said it first, felt it stirring ages before others, called it love when I knew it as love, felt no shame in the saying. Belonged to me, this love, this spark of something that didn’t dim in me when shared, if I’m warm, I thought, couldn’t others also be? Gave it, early, first, often.
I wholeheartedly believe our vulnerabilities are strengths. And I think it's extraordinarily beautiful how willing and able you are to keep your heart open and receptive no matter how it's greeted. 🙏🏻💗
Beautiful, Tyler. From Rush’s 2112 “...and the meek shall inherit the earth” The artists, poets, musicians, lovers of love. This is what we are, all of us. We just haven’t all realized it yet. 🤍✨
Well if this isn't just the most relatable thing... As the song says "You are what you love - and not what loves you back..." Thank you, as always, for reminding us that we are not alone -- for echoing hearts so clearly.
Love. Truth, sometimes it’s soft, like the daily rise and setting of the sun. Other times it’s momentarily blinding, like the shock of high noon after spelunking. Either way, you’re stunned, spellbound. You either choose to stop and stare, soak it in, or run for cover, shade your eyes, and go about your day ignoring the very beams which make all life possible.
I wholeheartedly believe our vulnerabilities are strengths. And I think it's extraordinarily beautiful how willing and able you are to keep your heart open and receptive no matter how it's greeted. 🙏🏻💗
Beautiful, Tyler. From Rush’s 2112 “...and the meek shall inherit the earth” The artists, poets, musicians, lovers of love. This is what we are, all of us. We just haven’t all realized it yet. 🤍✨
All of this. 💗
Well if this isn't just the most relatable thing... As the song says "You are what you love - and not what loves you back..." Thank you, as always, for reminding us that we are not alone -- for echoing hearts so clearly.
Good God.
Love. Truth, sometimes it’s soft, like the daily rise and setting of the sun. Other times it’s momentarily blinding, like the shock of high noon after spelunking. Either way, you’re stunned, spellbound. You either choose to stop and stare, soak it in, or run for cover, shade your eyes, and go about your day ignoring the very beams which make all life possible.