Taking care of yourself is the most revolutionary act.
Into the deep. Where the surface patterns disappear and the cool water envelopes you in silence. Eyes closed, drifting, floating. Eyes open, seeing through a different medium.
As the story goes, Narcissus fell in love with his own reflection and died, not realizing the reflection was not real. It is easy to say that this represents a sort of self-love that is destructive, but what does that really mean? Why do we equate an obsession with illusion with self-love and connote that love as negative? Continue reading Gazing at the Surface