To read together is symbolic of being able to share our true selves without shame, embarrassment or the need to perform. We are, as we lie in bed together, as we so seldom are in the rest of life, simply accepted.
Courtesy of Alain de Botton.
A good and a tender tale of grief locked away for years…article courtesy of Brain Pickings www.brainpickings.org
Slinkachu (the artist) — the Little People Project.
Images used courtesy of Slinkachu, the wonderful artist
I noticed a man this morning. I saw him twice, first near the tube station on my way in to work and then just a while ago as I was heading out to lunch. He was dressed in black carrying his belongings (perhaps his home) in two black sport bags, one in either hand. His face, though worn and tired, was held high. He walked with purpose yet I wondered if he had a destination in mind. The second time I saw him he was walking pass the BBC building, the new shiny one on Portland Place, where other well-meaning humans were gathered in their immaculate suits, having lunch, talking red noses and how to raise funds for those in need. They probably had their bags and stuff stored safely on the premises’ cloakroom. Look out your window folks — those in need are a lot closer than you think. Do you see them?