| Wild Geese You do not have to be good. | 
| You do not have to walk on your knees | 
| for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. | 
| You only have to let the soft animal of your body | 
| love what it loves. | 
| Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. | 
| Meanwhile the world goes on. | 
| Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain | 
| are moving across the landscapes, | 
| over the prairies and the deep trees, | 
| the mountains and the rivers. | 
| Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, | 
| are heading home again. | 
| Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, | 
| the world offers itself to your imagination, | 
| calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - | 
| over and over announcing your place | 
| in the family of things.          -Mary Oliver | 
One girl's way of working out her experience of breast cancer through rapid-fire blogging. What you see is what you get. Me, relatively unedited and not always composed. *The title of this blog is an homage to The Flaming Lips song "Yoshimi Battles Pink Robots", one our family grooves to in the car. ['Cause she knows that/it'd be tragic/if those evil robots win/I know she can beat them]
Thursday, September 10, 2015
#lentinseptember
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