#sensitive soul

[ardent-reflections]

I despise my own hypersensitiveness, which requires so much reassurance. It is certainly abnormal to crave so much to be loved and understood.

Anais Nin

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[uaravsh]

"Sensitive soul don't have it easy in this world. They feel like their souls are getting trampled on in so many ways. That's why you see their eyes light up when they can caress a face, or an animal, or breathe in the scent of a flower."

- 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚘 𝚂𝚔𝚢 (@uaravsh )

[wordsofwisdomandsoul]

[tatar1ramazan]

Bir göz at

[warriorhealer]

Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears.

Edgar Allan Poe

[mazeppafanart]

Sage’s fault! XD

[butterfliesrising]

the sensitive and passionate souls are the flowers here. in this harsh world, the way you feel and pour it all out, leaving bright and vulnerable beauty all around, the artists and lovers, intense feelers and wild dreamers, with your soft and aching hearts… i know it gets heavy and can feel hard to be how you are, but you are the flowers here… so please… be just how you are.

- butterflies rising

[lifegrowingtowardsthesun]

Lately I've been spending a lot of time looking at the sky. Watching the clouds, always shifting, always evolving. Also the moon, the stars, and the way the sunlight paints the clouds. The wind too. Those have been my interests lately.

I can feel myself connecting with the wind when I lay under trees. In those moments, I let myself relax a little into the earth. I feel her energy holding me. I watch the wind, the way it makes the trees dance. I watch the leaves glitter in the sunlight and I hear the whispers of the wind. I feel its rhythm on my skin. The tops of the trees are almost always moving, in communion with the sky. Always dancing and moving. Embodied. The first to touch the sun in the morning and the last to wish her goodnight.

A friend once told me that trees are enlightened masters, and I think I have to agree. She compared me to a tree once, and that made me smile.

The wind teaches flow. But most of all, it teaches movement. True, unadulterated movement. It teaches me how to simply be, always shifting, always evolving. Fluid. Tangible yet abstract.

The sky teaches me this too. She teaches me things about openness. She teaches me things about existing simply to exist. No agenda, no pushing. Simply flowing from one moment to the next.

Together, they are whispering something deep within me. A way of being, an embodiment I have long forgotten. Something about unclenching. Something about allowing and receiving. Something about being.

Unconditional being.

The sky and wind are caressing all parts of me. They say that it is safe to let go. To unclench. They say that we can just be. To live unconditionally, with no strings attached.

The wind and sky are very brave.

But I can be brave too.

[soulinkpoetry]

I feel a lot and intensely but don’t call me too sensitive if you can’t feel a thing. I’ll take sensitive over someone with a heart of stone any day of the week.

.

.

[maribellablack]

Yeah, that sucks

[alessandro-stuff]

[safe-haven-safe-place]

[bookreader-inkdrinker]

This is a post specifically dedicated to the sensitive souls out there who drink and party even though their hearts are too tender for flings.

[wordsofwisdomandsoul]

[tatar1ramazan]