Humor is a drug which it's the fashion to abuse.
Learning the edges or limits or sources of friction in empathy was one of the big issues for me.
Empathy isn’t just listening, it’s asking the questions whose answers need to be listened to. Empathy requires inquiry as much as imagination. Empathy requires knowing you know nothing. Empathy means acknowledging a horizon of context that extends perpetually beyond what you can see.
Empathy isn’t just something that happens to us — a meteor shower of synapses firing across the brain — it’s also a choice we make: to pay attention, to extend ourselves.
No trauma has discrete edges. Trauma bleeds. Out of wounds and across boundaries.
I think of empathy as a set of cumulative effects, ideally - that it can be a force shaping your habits, shaping where you put your attention and then - if you're hard on yourself, in good ways - pushing you to translate that attention into action, on whatever scale.
The pain is what you make of it. You have to find something in it that yields. I understood my guiding imperative as: keep bleeding, but find some love in the blood.
At first, they'll only dislike what you say, but the more correct you start sounding the more they'll dislike you.
What's so beautiful about breasts is their uniqueness. I don't understand the obsession with fakeness. It's a very odd thing, isn't it, to prefer fake and big to small and unique or just beautiful and real.
Anybody who writes a diary insists it must be read by someone else.
This moment is your portal to the future. Use it wisely!