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Drive Through the Night

Book by L.M. Browning · 21 quotes · Trauma, Healing, Grief

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Drive Through the Night Quotes

“Shame be damned—own the ruin of yourself. Wear the failure like a vintage coat —torn, tattered heart— you are a worn out classic, a soul of arcane salt and grit. Outcast, iconoclast, standfast. Beyond the black and white blah of buttondown norm we clash and crash in the candle-lit dusk of conscious dreams and darkest desires”

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“The quality of silence in my life speaks to the health of my soul/mind. If the silence is deafening, suppressive, terrifying... (it speaks to a fever raging silently in the psyche because the life I am living doesn’t align with your core values and/or the presence of something or someone harmful.) This quality of silence holds within it the unfelt, the unsaid, the unspeakable, the unrecognized, the unhealed, the unreconciled, the unconscionable...in addressing what lives in the silence and learning how to tolerate it—just sit with it—we begin the work that need be done to integrate the parts of ourselves sequestered into suppression.”

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“I wasn’t empty because others abandoned me, but because I had abandoned myself. Who I am was repressed—collateral damage in a long-term coping mechanism gone unchecked. My subconscious had put up partitions to contain the flood of emotion in the wake of trauma, but in doing so, my identity was trapped and locked away as well. As a result, everything repressed would one day come forward—without warning, without control, and without a shutoff valve.”

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“I wasn’t empty because I was abandoned by others, but because I had abandoned myself. Who I am was repressed—collateral damage in a longterm coping mechanism gone unchecked. My subconscious had put up partitions to contain the flood of emotion in the wake of trauma but in doing so my identity was trapped and locked away as well. Everything that is repressed would one day come forward­—without warning, without control, and without a shutoff valve.”

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“I’m a spiritual mutt. The road is my church. It was on the road that I discovered the landscape god. My journals tell of the perpetual midnight mass held on the highways and byways of the American West. Every so often, climbing out of the driver’s seat with a journal and a camera, seeking the sacrament of the wild silence found in the unsullied sanctuaries of intact wilderness.”

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“Adrift in the endless night, I’ve wished on the stars far-flung not knowing each spec of light was the dust of my own dreams shattered in another life —embedded in the horizon in the blast wave that shattered me into the mosaic of a melancholic, alcoholic dreamer drunk on this insatiable yearning to connect with another because I can’t find myself.”

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