Greek mythology tells us the story of Psyche, the human girl who loved and was loved by the god Eros. In the struggle to be united with him, Psyche went through a myriad of obstacles concocted by envious mortal sisters and conniving goddesses. But she persevered, and in the end, she rose above them all and became the immortal symbol of the human soul.
The tale of Psyche is a manifesto of the self. In the constant ebb and flow of things -- the hi-and-goodbyes, the come-and-go, the then-and-now -- our souls are what's pure and everlasting. In them are our secret dreams, the little dances we do when alone in a room, the hidden strings that tug at us when we least expect them to.
Yet authenticity is rare. And at least to me, it is precious.
Here's a little unboxing of this writer. Here, I write about what I think matters, whether it's seeing the world or reusing a plastic jar. Here, I unveil some of my hidden strings: what I do weekends, what a film means to me. Here, I share, I curse, I laugh at myself. (I'm smiling while typing this.)
I want to be authentic. I want to be my soul, personified.
Yet authenticity is rare. And at least to me, it is precious.
Here's a little unboxing of this writer. Here, I write about what I think matters, whether it's seeing the world or reusing a plastic jar. Here, I unveil some of my hidden strings: what I do weekends, what a film means to me. Here, I share, I curse, I laugh at myself. (I'm smiling while typing this.)
I want to be authentic. I want to be my soul, personified.
