Expressing MySelf Institute

25/02/2026

22/02/2026

Sleeping in the Forest, by Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

14/02/2026

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

~ P. Neruda, Sonnet XVII

11/02/2026

Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: They feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can’t stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.

~ Anne Lamott, Bird by bird

01/02/2026

Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me.

~ Sigmund Freud

27/01/2026

Joan Didion reads “On Keeping a Notebook”.

  (1) Joan Didion reads “See enough and write it down, I tell myself, …” in her own voice from the book Slouching Towards Bethlehem (This is a small section from the documentary The Center Will Not Hold) (2) Joan Didion’s appearances in an interview with Charlie Rose in May 1992 and her tal...

25/01/2026

Have you ever been told that you’re “too sensitive”? Do bright lights, loud noises, or intense emotions overwhelm you more than they seem to affect others? If so, you might be a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP).

Have you ever been told that you’re “too sensitive”? Do bright lights, loud noises, or intense emotions overwhelm you more than they seem to affect others? If so, you might be a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP). What Does It Mean to Be an HSP? The term “Highly Sensitive Person” was introduced...

21/01/2026

🫂 International Hug Day!

❤

19/01/2026

It is pointless to try and identify what the most depressing day of the year is because it would be different for each one of us. As different as each person’s circumstances are.

January’s third Monday, “Blue Monday”, is thought to be the most depressing day of the year. Spoiler: it isn’t. Let’s look after our mental health against commercial influences.