I hold my face between my hands no I am not crying I hold my face between my hands to keep my loneliness warm two hands protecting two hands nourishing two hands to prevent my soul from leaving me in anger The poem first recited by Thich Nhat Hanh in Vietnamese and then by
Rage and tenderness are located so close to each other. Often they are walled off, each in their own isolation chamber. In time the barriers between become less formidable,
We need to take on the task of acknowledging racial grief in a theoretically and socially responsible way.A sustained focus on the intangible wounds that form the fissures underneath visible phenomenon of discrimination should be taking place …Racial melancholy is both the technology and the nightmare of the American dream. Adapted from : The Melancholy Of
I am not sure what has instigated this current need of mine to scrutinize, when and why, I offer consolation. Possibly the stage of life I have entered. Certainly there are many situations in which I am grateful that I have the resource, impulse, desire to soothe, to comfort, to empathize. But there are tragedies
: Mended Wings, Brokenness and Inspiration When a child is deprived of basic relational sustenance other resources must be employed. Emory entered his little world like all creatures, reliant on others for nourishment and protection from danger. At first, these were provided, if barely