When I open my heart, with arms wide open, I speak to others in their heart language. I am re-re-learning Zulu (thank you, Mama Nomusa (my housekeeper). My Zulu uber driver’s name yesterday (not the advertised Timothy) is Zikhethele – “I choose myself”.
When I embrace my heart, my heart is embraced.
Seperation is an illusion created by the stubborness of “everyone should speak my language and be able to read my thoughts”.
Finding beauty in negative spaces. – Seether