Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Jun 5, 2024
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It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
This is my son, mine own Telemachus,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, and pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
May 7, 2024
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It is the most powerful antidote for me in trying to navigate this devastating reality. Optimism sometimes feels naive but setting up a positive framework for our minds is a means of survival. Today I find myself slipping into sadness and dispare easily and my only way out has been mindfulness and optimistic thinking. I must accept the world I am in, but I will not let it destroy me, instead I will use my voice and my actions to react to this world. Today I think of Maya Angelou’ poem— Still, I Rise.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Nov 6, 2024
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if the sun rose on the west
i would've had the courage to become what i was meant to be
but the sun never fails to rise on the east
and so the tides continue to flood my shore, full of big dreams
i float and blame everything
because failure paralyzes me more than discomfort could ever greet me good morning
Mar 1, 2025
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May 31, 2025
In Tarot, The Fool is the first card in the Major Arcana, which represents the life cycle. These cycles we are continuously going through in our lives, not just once. The final card of the Major Arcana is The World (which I have tattooed very large on my thigh), which signifies the completion of a cycle and natural ascension into the next. We are then thrust back into the Fool, with a bit more wisdom.
The Fool as an archetype is one of joy, curiosity, spontaneity, and trust. The Fool is pure of heart, knowing that the Universe has got their back. This innate trust allows The Fool to be playful, to take risks, and truly believe everything will work out. The more we go through life and experience loss, grief, heartache, trauma, the harder it becomes to embrace this energy. I’ve found that as healing goes on, just as it’s shown in tarot, we return to this natural state of being. We start off as The Fool when we are wee little babies, and if we are lucky can return there a few cycles at a time, with more wisdom gained each time.
The goal of The Fool is to have positive experiences, maybe for fun, maybe to grow. There is an acceptance with The Fool, a kind of “this is what is, how can I make this work well for me?” Everything works out for The Fool because they don’t know it can’t. Anything we go through in life, we can use to grow. I personally believe we all could benefit embracing the archetypal energy of The Fool a bit more. The Fool doesn’t stop to worry what other people will think! The Fool does not fret about what if’s! The Fool is in the moment!
Jun 1, 2025
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Humans have always danced. It is part of who we are, yet we have been conditioned to be self conscious, to think that we do not move our bodies good enough. Dancing is beyond judgement. Dancing is not a skill, it is our soul moving through our bodies, expressed in movement. Dancing is healing. Dancing is bodily autonomy. Dancing is FUN! Any feeling you are feeling can be moved through with dance yet even alone, you fear looking foolish. Kill the judge in your mind, shut the fuck up, and MOVE 🌊
Apr 24, 2025