So long as you do not stop
wolfhound46:

I have no idea where this came from so I can’t credit anyone (feel free to tell me if you know who has ownership of it). I just think it’s the most wonderful sentiment and we can learn a lot from those little creatures about how we can look after our friends without inadvertently making them feel even worse. 

wolfhound46:

I have no idea where this came from so I can’t credit anyone (feel free to tell me if you know who has ownership of it). I just think it’s the most wonderful sentiment and we can learn a lot from those little creatures about how we can look after our friends without inadvertently making them feel even worse. 

pineappleharvey:


“Maybe the only thing each of us can see is our own shadow. Carl Jung called this his shadow work. He said we never see others. Instead we see only aspects of ourselves that fall over them. Shadows. Projections. Our associations. The same way old painters would sit in a tiny dark room and trace the image of what stood outside a tiny window, in the bright sunlight. The camera obscura. Not the exact image, but everything reversed or upside down.” - Chuck Palahniuk

“You’re a reflection of me, and I absolutely care about me.”

pineappleharvey:

Maybe the only thing each of us can see is our own shadow. Carl Jung called this his shadow work. He said we never see others. Instead we see only aspects of ourselves that fall over them. Shadows. Projections. Our associations. The same way old painters would sit in a tiny dark room and trace the image of what stood outside a tiny window, in the bright sunlight. The camera obscura. Not the exact image, but everything reversed or upside down.” - Chuck Palahniuk

You’re a reflection of me, and I absolutely care about me.”

harvey/mike + protective harvey

nightingaleinasilvercage:


ariane-stillcries:

loveglutton:

dearscience:

i can never not reblog this. 

Have to.

…

Welcome to the priorities of the human race.

nightingaleinasilvercage:

ariane-stillcries:

loveglutton:

dearscience:

i can never not reblog this. 

Have to.

Welcome to the priorities of the human race.

sktagg23:

Reblogging this in honor of Robin Williams. Please, if you are battling depression or suicidal thoughts, I desperately urge you to talk to someone. I will listen, and so will the people at this number.

sktagg23:

Reblogging this in honor of Robin Williams. Please, if you are battling depression or suicidal thoughts, I desperately urge you to talk to someone. I will listen, and so will the people at this number.

lalondes:

If you are experiencing depression or considering suicide, there are people who are ready and willing to help.

  • Suicide Hotline: 1-800-SUICIDE (2433) – Can use in US, U.K., Canada and Singapore
  • Suicide Crisis Line: 1-800-999-9999
  • National Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1-800-273-TALK (8245)
  • National Adolescent Suicide Helpline: 1-800-621-4000
  • Postpartum Depression: 1-800-PPD-MOMS
  • NDMDA Depression Hotline – Support Group: 1-800-826-3632
  • Veterans: 1-877-VET2VET
  • Crisis Help Line – For Any Kind of Crisis: 1-800-233-4357
  • Suicide & Depression Crisis Line – Covenant House: 1-800-999-9999
  • Survivors of Bereavement by Suicide: (UK only) 0844-561-6855
  • Beyondblue info line: (Australia only) 1300-22-4636
  • 24/7 Crisis Line:(Canada only) 905-522-1477
  • Lifeline Australia: 13-11-14

Youth & Teen Hotlines:

  • National Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663
  • Youth America Hotline: 1-877-YOUTHLINE (1-877-968-8454)
  • Covenant House Nine-Line (Teens): 1-800-999-9999
  • Boys Town National: 1-800-448-3000
  • Teen Helpline: 1-800-400-0900
  • TeenLine: 1-800-522-8336
  • Youth Crisis Support: 1-800-448-4663 or 1-800-422-0009
  • Runaway Support (All Calls are Confidential): 800-231-694
  • National Runaway Hotline: (US only) 1800-231-6946
  • Child Helpline: (UK Only) 0800-111
  • Kids Helpline: (Australia) 1800-55-1800
  • Youth to Youth: (UK only) 020-8896-3675
  • Kids Help Phone Canada: 1800-688-6868
  • National Youth Crisis Hotline:(US only) 800-442-442-4673

You’re not alone.

After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic,
Please come to the gate immediately.

Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she
Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick,
Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the
Following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and
Would ride next to her—Southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering
Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California,
The lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—
Non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought,
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.

Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped
—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.

Naomi Shihab Nye (b. 1952), “Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal.” I think this poem may be making the rounds, this week, but that’s as it should be.  (via oliviacirce)

When I lose hope in the world, I remember this poem.

(via bookoisseur)

I’m really glad I read that.

(via selfesteampunk)