Just To Be Is Holy, Just To

You Create A Path Of Your Own By Looking Within Yourself And Listening To Your Soul, Cultivating Your Own Ways Of Experiencing The Sacred And Then Practicing It. Practicing Until You Make It A Song That Sings You.

Soul. The Word Rebounded To Me, And I Wondered, As I Often Had, What It Was Exactly. People Talked About It All The Time, But Did Anybody Actually Know? Sometimes I'd Pictured It Like A Pilot Light Burning Inside A Person--a Drop Of Fire From The Invisible Inferno People Called God. Or A Squashy Substance, Like A Piece Of Clay Or Dental Mold, Which Collected The Sum Of A Person's Experiences--a Million Indentations Of Happiness, Desperation, Fear, All The Small Piercings Of Beauty We've Ever Known.

Stopping Is A Spiritual Art. It Is The Refuge Where We Drink Life In.

There Is No Place So Awake And Alive As The Edge Of Becoming. But More Than That, Birthing The Kind Of Woman Who Can Authentically Say, 'my Soul Is My Own,' And Then Embody It In Her Life, Her Spirituality, And Her Community Is Worth The Risk And Hardship.

The World Will Give You That Once In Awhile, A Brief Timeout; The Boxing Bell Rings And You Go To Your Corner, Where Somebody Dabs Mercy On Your Beat-up Life.