As an adolescent, I went to charm school, where I learned to pour tea and relate to boys, which, as I recall, meant giving them the pickle jar to unscrew, whether it was too hard for me or not.

the feminine journey is a story unfolding, and its epiphanies come through real things, through tangibles like walking sticks and dreams and deer antlers--all of which we might miss without taking time and space in Deep Being.

Unraveling external selves and coming home to our real identity is the true meaning of soul work.

After you get stung, you can't get unstung no matter how much you whine about it.

Probably one or two moments in your whole life you will hear a dark whispering spirit, a voice coming from the center of things. It will have blades for lips and will not stop until it speaks the one secret thing at the heart of it all. Kneeling on the floor, unable to stop shuddering, I heard it plainly. It said, You are unlovable.

This is what I know about myself. She was all I wanted. And I took her away.

I could even feel how perishable all my moments really were, how all my life they had come to me begging to be lived, to be cherished even.