Like all other lonely or hungry things, ego loves the light. It sees light, and the possibility of being close to the soul, and it creeps up to it and steals one of its essential camouflages. In a hunger for soul, our own ego-self steals the pelt

The deterioration of symbols is natural. They wear out, needing to be reclaimed, recreated; returned to the spirit.

I became married at a young age and had two daughters and divorced at 26. I had to go on welfare to make ends meet. I had no way to support myself.

It's not by accident that the pristine wilderness of our planet disappears as the understanding of our own inner wild nature fades.

The soul has no gender.

I learned about the sacred art of self decoration with the monarch butterflies perched atop my head, lightning bugs as my night jewelry, and emerald-green frogs as bracelets.

When you feel bad, find a person to talk to and cry with, to tell of your anger and other helpless feelings.