When I am going through valleys, I turn inward to myself and my known comforts - warmth, quiet, words, books - those ageless friends of my girlhood and shapers of my self.
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I have a Walt Whitman project I've begun. And while it comes to be, I'm enjoying being re-immersed in the words I find simultaneously expansive and comforting. This Leaves of Grass excerpt is from "I Sing the Body Electric" (which, coincidentally, was also a song that still moves me to tears from the original Fame, one of the most important movies of my teenage years):
I have perceiv’d that to be with those I like is enoughTo stop in company with the rest at evening is enough,To be surrounded by beautiful, curious, breathing, laughing flesh is enough,To pass among them, or touch any one, or rest my arm ever so lightly round his or her neck for a moment—what is this, then?I do not ask any more delight—I swim in it, as in a sea.There is something in staying close to men and women, and looking on them, and in the contact and odor of them, that pleases the soul well;All things please the soul—but these please the soul well.