The Phoenix Soul. We are truth-speakers, heart-on-our-sleevers, love-believers. You are. I am. We are The Phoenix Soul (indie digital magazine & community).
“Keep living. Keep asking. Keep hoping. Keep dreaming. Keep believing. You are not alone on your journey. No matter how quiet it may seem. No matter how much you feel unseen. No matter how lonesome it can be. You are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone.”
One key to vibrant life hides closer than we think: in returning to THIS moment, wherever and however we are, and being fully present. Awake. Alive. Allowing/inviting/embracing it all, no matter how we feel or how much we may yearn for change. After soul-deep searching and attention (inviting our truth to come outward), we will begin to recognize what dulls our existence. What holds us back from living our most vibrant, satisfying, purposeful life. Then, with courage, we can begin to shed these limiting ways, and our present will align more closely with our deepest truth.
Step into the circle, where we celebrate both our individuality and our oneness as a soul-family. We honor our soul-colors, our whole and richly complex beings. How can you tap into your most vibrant life more often? Find out with us in The Phoenix Soul: VIBRANT LIFE.
“For the first time in years, my heart’s resting place is hope. Joy. A budding eagerness. I ache for the dreams that died. But out of their ashes, I’ve risen. Stronger. Brighter. More authentically me. Wholehearted and wholly alive. ”
“These days my heart radiates love and energy, and I learn from my mistakes. I learn when to rise and when to rest. I know when to hold onto hope and when to release unseen dreams. I ask the questions of my heart and mind and seek answers in mystery . . .”
1. Amanda Fall, Anab Roa, Linda Simone. 2. Deborah L. Staunton, Cheena Kaul, Samara, Mantz Yorke. 3. Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi, Ruth Sabath Rosenthal, Maureen Helms Blake, De Jackson. 4. suzanne l. vinson, Laurie Blackwell, Nolwenn Petitbois, Melissa Fernandez.
“Looking towards the heavens and fumbling for balance, I paused and held my breath as I snapped the shutter, capturing the way of bare branches lying against the sky.”
“I lost my colors for a while. Growing up, depression and anxiety often dulled my days. Family loss and ache cast even more gloom. I lost sight of why my magic-mama would ever have nicknamed me Rainbow in the first place. These days, though, my colors are coming back . . .”
“Straying from the humdrum
the four feel it begin:
hair—once steel gray, now aubergine—
lengthens and flows.
T-shirts fall away, breasts exposed
lower torsos iridescent
emerald—
and tails
scale bunions and corns
from feet that have trod hard earth . . .”