Victoria Erickson Quotes

Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the colour gold.

Women are powerful, and I see them stifle this every. single. day. Stop looking to be saved and hiding your magic. Stop tossing aside your voice and valid emotions. Stop wasting your time with fake friends and chasing men like they're cures.
Material things, better jobs, and other people- they won't fill your gap. Only you can do that. Life is short. Rise up and step back into your awesome, innate power. You are compassion and creative force and divine life itself. You are a Goddess.

Often times, a person will think they know you by piecing together tiny facts and arranging those pieces into a puzzle that makes sense to them. If we don't know ourselves very well, we'll mistakenly believe them, and drift toward where they tell us to swim, only to drown in our own confusion.
Here's the truth: it's important to take the necessary steps to find out who you are. Because you hold endless depths below the surface of a few facts and pieces and past decisions. You aren't only the ripples others can see. You are made of oceans.

Three things:
1- Stop letting pride win. Don't let it destroy and unravel friendships and loves. We blinked, and it's the holidays again. How many more laps around the sun are left? Life is slippery and fleeting, and distance so cold. Stay humble and warm. Remember what counts.
2- Be unapologetically in love with everything. People and the cosmos. Poetry and oceans. The growth everywhere from roses to your heart to the messes that brought you to this level. The ground beneath you. The feeling. Any feeling. The fact that you can feel at all- forever a privilege.
3- Stay tender. Always tender.

I love getting older. My understanding deepens. I can see what connects, I can weave stories of experience and apply them. I can integrate the lessons. Things simply become more and more fascinating. Beauty reveals itself in thousands of forms.

Rather than fearfully shutting down your sensitivity, dive in deeper into all possible feeling. As you expand, keep only those who are not afraid of oceans

Let's not travel to tick things off lists, or collect half-hearted semi-treasures to be placed in dusty drawers in empty rooms. Rather, we'll travel to find grounds and rooftops and tiny hidden parks, where we'll sit and dismiss the passing time, spun in the city's web, 'til we've surrendered, content to be spent and consumed. I need to feel a place while I'm in it.

If you love something, then really love it. If that trip, person, or afternoon opened up new worlds and mindsets, then by all means, write or paint or play about it, or maybe even tell someone, and tell it the way it really is, exactly how it feels. It is beautiful to feel in a body built for feeling, and exist intensely on a planet exuding intensity, because life in itself is both intense and beautiful. There's absolutely no need or reason to pretend otherwise.

And you cannot build a home for your worth inside of another being.

What if I told you that if you simply mix starlight, solitude, silence and softness, you may just learn everything you've ever needed to know about everything you hadn't known?

You can be both soft and intense. Both vulnerable and strong. Both traditional and rebellious. Both romantic and realistic. Both feminine and oceanic yet filled with slow burning fire. There is possibility inside of paradox. There is a universe of different perceptions.

Don't dismiss the elements. Water soothes and heals. Air refreshes and revives. Earth grounds and holds. Fire is a burning reminder of our own will and creative power. Swallow their spells. There's a certain sweet comfort in knowing that you belong to them all.

Half of me is filled with bursting words and half of me is painfully shy. I crave solitude yet also crave people. I want to pour life and love into everything yet also nurture my self-care and go gently. I want to live within the rush of primal, intuitive decision, yet also wish to sit and contemplate. This is the messiness of life - that we all carry multitudes, so must sit with the shifts. We are complicated creatures, and ultimately, the balance comes from this understanding. Be water. Flowing, flexible and soft. Subtly powerful and open. Wild and serene. Able to accept all changes, yet still led by the pull of steady tides. It is enough.

To be fully human is to be wild. Wild is the strange pull and whispering wisdom. It's the gentle nudge and the forceful ache. It is your truth, passed down from the ancients, and the very stream of life in your blood. Wild is the soul where passion and creativity reside, and the quickening of your heart. Wild is what is real, and wild is your home.

Sure. I'll make small talk. Chit chat.
Discuss the ins and outs of a "typical" day.
Pass the time lightly. Say tiny things.
I'm happy to tread surfaces with a smile,
and will. Sometimes.

Yet- when I look at you,
I know there are layers.
Dimensions. Collections of ancient wisdom.
Roads. Stories on stories on stories.
Core needs.

There is humanness.

This is where I light up.
This is where I thrive.

You can't be caged in a pool for long.
Not when you're someone
who wants oceans.

I wanted to ask you about your vision of perfection in an imperfect world, or what side of the earth calls out to you when you touch a physical globe, or maybe about your greatest heartache and how you still go on as your world continues turning, or what you do with a memory once lodged inside your bones that;s still breathing, and burning. But you're still a stranger, and I'm overly polite, so I'll ask all about your day when I'd rather know about your life.

Soulmates aren't the ones who make you happiest, no. They're instead the ones who make you feel the most. Burning edges and scars and stars. Old pangs, captivation and beauty. Strain and shadows and worry and yearning. Sweetness and madness and dreamlike surrender. They hurl you into the abyss. They taste like hope.

Although I deeply love oceans, deserts and other wild landscapes, it is only mountains that beckon me with that sort of painful magnetic pull to walk deeper and deeper into their beauty. They keep me continuously wanting to know more, feel more, see more.

Give yourself a winter night,
long candles, unfamiliar music,
a typewriter, keyboard,
an instrument, or canvas,
to set fire to your mind.
Surrender.
Be with art.
Let the room become a constellation,
trust it and ride.

Solitude isn't loneliness. Solitude is when the entire serene universe seems to surround and hold you quietly.