Suleika and Celstial Marina, I couldn't wait to leave college. Well, the fact that I transfered to three different schools, searching for "belonging" might explain that. And then, I went on searching and stopped "becoming" and settled for relationship after relationship where I never had to find myself as I lost myself in others. Last September 21, was my "Freedom Day." The day when I chose "me," left my relationship of 20 years in a path of snot, tears, fears and that first night, in the new (old-1898) house, slept more deeply and woke knowing I had chosen "Me." Please know, that The Isolation Journals were a large part of my finding myself and mustering something deep inside me that said, "Go, go now, run and don't look back." This morning, as the sun is just winking through in shades of pink and orange, with my hot cup of coffee and a blueberry scone, I have Commenced and will continue to do so. I am so proud of you, Suleika, for your honor at Brown is just fabulous! Marina, you continue to inspire and isn't that a commencing too?
Thank you, Kim. My daughter is convinced that we live on different planes of consciousness and I think she is right. I wonder if Deja Vu is a swift revisit to a different plane?
Mary, I find it so inspiring that you put yourself first, - creating a new life, a new Mary. I always feel a degree of simpatico in reading your posts, - including musical references! Enjoying a virtual cup of coffee with you this morning. Cheers!
I'm more of a medium roast gal! This one is a blend from Colombia, Guatemala & Sumatra..... with hints of "citrus fruit, brown sugar, chocolate truffle." None of which I taste!! :)
Wow, that sounds amazing! My palate is so uncultivated. I love all kinds of food, but cannot pick out the hints of anything! I'd be terrible at a winde tasting, "Hmmm...I'm picking up a hint of...nope, got nothing."
Somehow, for me, an enormous sense of curiosity goes hand in hand with possibilities. My life has been, and continues to be, a journey into possibility. I have lived with loneliness, a feeling of separation, doubt, fear, and managed to use all of this as fuel to continue on my journey. At 77, I now realize the blessings in all these seeming “darker, negative” feelings and thoughts. Everything has become a beacon of light guiding me towards a rich sense of unity, confidence, and engagement with life. In each moment I find doubt and certainty, fear and courage, despair and quiet peace. My wish, today, is to play music, to compose a sound that touches my heart, your heart, and becomes a vibrating map into a hidden, and very present treasure: the experience of self melting into no-self, diversity melting into one-ness. A solitary life evaporated into community. A frown of disappointment shifts into a gentle smile of contentment. Every moment offers the opportunity for these “alchemical” manifestations, when I remember to remember. Re-member. Real-eyes. “All aboard”, we are invited on this journey that began before I was born, and continues onward after I die. Breathing in and out, night and day, sadness and joy. I and Thou. 🏮
An abbreviation of Arnold Edinborough's quote is something I often think about in terms of possibilities in our lives "If curiosity killed the cat then I say the cat died nobly."
Oh, I love that. A noble end, indeed. Better to be felled by curiosity than dulled by certainty, I think. May we all be so lucky—to go out sniffing at doors we haven’t opened yet.
David, fellow 77 person: I had just finished writing a comment when I scrolled down and read yours. We seem to be quite alike, not to mention the same age! Since that's so, I really liked what you had to say!
Hello All. I love the picture of you and Jon at commencement. And today's reading was beautiful. I loved "I’ve learned that commencing doesn’t always look like commencing. Commencing can look like waiting. It can look like fear, like confusion, like heartbreak, or some other ending that is really a beginning. And the only way I know how to navigate the uncertainty of being human is to pay attention. To take note of what’s working and what’s not. To be brave enough to change course, to inch closer to whatever it is that makes you feel alive—that fills you with a sense of possibility." And I loved " We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that." I learned this after a test a whole new diagnosis ( I really do not like saying more here). And this reading really touched me and held me with hope and possibilities. And so I have a new doctor, who I meet at the end of July. I am grateful.
I wasn’t planning to commence anything today. And yet, somewhere between a whim & a wig, I did.
We took a spontaneous trip back to the country, my friend & I, & stumbled into a shop that felt like it had swallowed a fever dream—part antique store, part theatre green room, part accidental church. There was a poodle with the manners of an heiress. A shopkeeper who told us, quite plainly, that she was bipolar. A woman with a bouffant straight out of a 1950s dance number, all hairspray & hope. And one other stranger who refused classification, which only made her more essential to the scene.
We tried on wigs. For hours. Five strangers & an heiress dog trying on other versions of ourselves. We posed. We preened. We laughed so hard it echoed off the vintage glassware. The music was pure 70s—a genre that never asks permission to feel good—& for hours, we let it lead us.
I hate photos taken of me. I didn’t as a child—back then, I adored the camera, its click like applause. I was born during a brief window of abundance, a flicker where things were better, & my childhood was captured in colour, while my sisters were documented in black & white. The family’s Wizard of Oz moment happened with me. But somewhere along the way, I stepped behind the lens—maybe for safety, maybe for control. It felt easier to frame than to be framed.
But today, beneath a cascading wig & a film noir hat, she returned. That girl—the one who loved the lens. She raised the camera to catch us, & this time, I didn’t flinch. I looked straight into it. Later, when I saw the photo, I didn’t recognise myself—not at first. But something did. The cheeks. The dimples. The nerve. She hadn’t disappeared. She’d just been waiting for a bit of absurdity to draw her out.
And maybe that’s what believing in possibility really looks like—not a reinvention, but a return. Not a five-year plan, but five strangers in wigs saying yes to a moment with no purpose beyond joy.
And yes, the wig came home with me—though I suspect she chose me.
I’m so looking forward to the release of The Book of Alchemy this August, Dr. Suleika Jaouad.
Can you imagine? The Royal Legume, wig perched high, holding court on a wee throne like Marie Antoinette—paws crossed, unbothered by all & sundry. You must, Suleika, you must!
When reading your writing I feel like an interloper, a voyeur, but not necessarily in the worst possible way. However, the imagery of you stepping in front of the lens, delightful. One funny anecdote: the best area to find wigs in Los Angeles has a strict limit on trying them on —you only get to try on two. Yes, no matter how many catch your eye, you only get to put two on your head. While I understand the policy, it can be difficult.
To be honest, my particular exposure to this world was part fascination and part frustration. When the decision to visit is out of necessity and not choice, dictates regarding selection can dampen an otherwise fantastical experience.
Kim this is absolutely beautiful! I grinned reading this! I relate to the sentiment about hidden parts of yourself. I sometimes feel that way too - a "good girl" on the outside (quiet, reserved, kind, etc.), but in a restaurant bathroom, kitchen or car, I can dance and let loose... flirty, free, daring, alive. I yearn for her to emerge in the world more often. Thank you for the reminder that it's possible ❤️
Louise! Here’s to the bathroom dancer, the car singer, the hidden marvel. Let her spill into daylight. She sounds electric. May the world be lucky enough to meet her, fully unfiltered.
We can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over.
Possibilities . . . I woke up this morning feeling off. Not sad, not lonely, not hopeless but also not enthusiastic, not excited, not in a positive frame of mind. I love Sundays. I wake up slowly, a day where generally I can choose to stay home all day. I look forward to reading Suleika's and her guest's essays. A day of possibilities. When I read today's prompts, I thought "how perfect". How often these Sunday morning prompts are exactly what I need to hear. I've had a great deal of trauma in my life including having lost two daughters (one a full term baby, and the other a 30 year old young woman), being diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease which has left me unable to work full-time and therefore financially insecure. And I am in my sixties. Does this "sense of possibility" apply to me as well, with only a couple of decades of living ahead of me? If that? As humans we live in our storylines. We create our own lives by creating our own storyline. I often tell my two daughters I could be wheelchair bound, living quite a different life, if I had chosen to succumb to all my physical challenges. I could easily choose to be sad and despondent every day. Instead, I refuse to give up on the possibilities. I can't do everything but I can swim and kayak and still massage a few clients. I can write and create art. I can love on my wife and my grandbabies. Most recently I have started a little home business to help sustain myself. It has also challenged my brain and brought some excitement back into my daily life. I sometimes have to pinch myself because anything IS possible, and I CAN rewrite my storyline every day. Thank you, Suleika, as always, for lifting my spirits and giving me hope. It is no coincidence that the Divine and a thoughtful nurse brought your first book into our lives. And congratulations on your doctorate! Wow! The possibilities continue to be endless and beyond our wildest dreams ♡♡
My daughter graduated with a Masters in Teaching from Brown last week. She and her friends walked by you and they took a selfie with you and Jon behind them. The smiles, excitement and love in your faces jumps off the page. What a bonus to her graduation. Seeing you both receive your degrees and in hearing Jon play.
When I turned 45, I realize that my life was probably half over. Many of my relatives have lived to their early 90s, so maybe I was not quite half done. I had an epiphany— instead of thinking that my life was half over, I could think about the fact that I had another 45-year-long life to live. What had I done in the first 45 years? I learned to crawl, to walk, to run, to ride a bike, to swim. I learned a whole language! I earned a bachelors degree, and a masters degree. I could do all of that again! I had always wanted to be a dancer, so I started taking ballroom and Latin dance lessons. I had dabbled in Spanish, but I decided to make a concerted effort to learn Spanish. I considered another degree, and decided that was not the right path for me, so instead I pursued many short-term learning opportunities. I spent a week at Yale learning about colonial history, I spent a week at Tulane learning about jazz and American history. I spent a week at Mass Art learning about public art and architecture. Now I’m 60, and recently retired due to a major health issue. If I live to be 90, that is nearly another lifetime. It IS a lifetime for some people. And there’s still so much to do and be and learn!
I was lucky enough to spend several months in NYC in 2015 and it was then I came across Marina's book - I loved it so much, I gave a friend a copy and a young homeless woman, sitting outside Barnes and Noble. She was asking for money for food and books and, given those are two key sources of sustinence, I gave her both food AND Marina's book.
It's one I go back to regularly and all these years later, Marina's death saddens me more as time goes on. You cannot help but sense that her work would have made a difference, right?
Congratulations, dear Suleika (and Jon) on this special honour. And thankyou for sharing Marina's words with these young graduates - I hope they live their lives fully, in her honour and for their own sakes.
I'm reminded of when Carrie Bradshaw (in an episode of SATC) spoke about her copy of Vogue feeding her soul more than food. While Vogue doesn't have that impact on me, books do. I remember talking to the young woman in question and I asked her why she asked for books as well as food. She said "because I know if I read, it makes me smarter and being educated by books is my ticket out of this". I wasn't about to argue with that (and included $20 inside the book too).
Suleika I know you mentioned this amazing person died & I’m so sorry about that. Somehow, for me, I feel this entitlement with this piece with folks that are so fortunate to go to Yale. Maybe even jealousy that I didn’t have these opportunities. Unfortunately I was made to go to a horrible school down south, and when I say “I was made” because I had no spirit left to fight to go to drama school. Never having much support in my life, for me, I didn’t go to college of my choice until I was in my mid forties & it was a wonderful experience. Everything worked backwards for me with choosing a school I loved, finding myself thru performing & meditation, realizing I did have business acumen in book publicity, & knowing there’s no rules on when to change my life—I just had to do it!
When I was college bound I was obsessed by journalism at prestigious Eastern school. For various reasons I wasn't ready not going to fulfill my dreams yet I currently write and inspire others that reading and writing matter.
Tears exploding from my eyes on this prompt. Marina, - your gifts are still appreciated though you've departed this world. My life has been filled with lane changes, starting over, and re-thinking possibilities. It hasn't been the road less taken, more- which trail to choose when there are so many? At 65, I'm still in the game, knowing there's a new chapter, but not quite fixed on what exactly it is, or where it will lead. And that's okay.
Congratulations on your honorary doctorate Suleika! I already envision both you and Jon as Deans of Joy & Creativity!
Dr . Jaouard, (Wow!) Before I even read today's prompt, Thank you for yours!!!
I love this:
"... How can we quiet the anxious mind? The one that’s all fear, all negativity bias, worrying about all the ways things could go sideways. The one that keeps us stuck, that makes us think we have to accept or resign ourselves to a fate we don’t want. How do we cultivate a sense of expansive, promising possibility instead? Rather than fixating on what could go wrong, how do we focus on what could go right?"
and I love how you took us from the rawness of where you were when you graduated to where you are when, "...I’ve learned that commencing doesn’t always look like commencing. Commencing can look like waiting. It can look like fear, like confusion, like heartbreak, or some other ending that is really a beginning. And the only way I know how to navigate the uncertainty of being human is to pay attention. To take note of what’s working and what’s not. To be brave enough to change course, to inch closer to whatever it is that makes you feel alive—that fills you with a sense of possibility."
At 68 years old, and having recently had the wonders of my 50th high school reunion, and having just experienced one of the more chaotic, challenging weeks in my recollection, and despite and with all that, this morning I woke very grateful for the beautiful sun rising.
For me the opposite of loneliness is “connection.” I strive to connect with someone or something everyday. It is what gives me purpose right now and motivates me to keep going. Thank you for this. Sending love your way. ❤️
I am so glad that it is never too late. I have only now and forward to go. And yes the possibility that the days will be short or long are part of the mystery. Never too late to do what? I am wondering if being will suffice.
My husband and I recently returned from a trip to Germany where we visited our son who has a fellowship to study there for a year. My son and I had traveled to Germany eight years earlier on a summer vacation. At the time, we traveled all over on trains that were always exactly on time. So it is no wonder that when I planned this trip I had the same expectations of the trains when I purchased our tickets to travel from city to city. A lot had changed in those eight years. Trains were no longer on time and the signage was very difficult to follow. As a result, we missed a few trains and got onto a few wrong trains and buses. I was petrified that we would miss the train connecting us to the train that would take us to the airport until I was able to change the first train to allow for a long enough interval between trains so that we could not possibly miss the second train to the airport.
My husband was able to point that we saw some towns we had not originally planned to see and that we did eventually get everywhere we needed to despite going in the wrong direction a few times and missing some connections.
I have been working to accepting that I can not plan or anticipate everything in advance and have made great progress, but these transportation issues made me realize that I may have a ways to go. In reviewing the trajectory my life has taken, I feel that each decision and turn has lead to the next. Everything I have done has brought me to where I am today and I do not regret even the mistakes. If I had to do it over, I wish that I could have been less worried about how things would turn out and just trusted the process. I wish I had been more adventurous and tried more new things. I used to beat myself up for not becoming a manager and being satisfied with just being a line worker, but I have come to realize that I would hate being a manager. Being forced to ask my staff to do unreasonable things, having to discipline those who do not do their work and getting flack from those above me for what my staff was or was not doing. So I am fine just where I am. I plan to retire in a few years and I hope to explore new things. I do not know what exactly I will do, but I am ok with the uncertainty.
Some of my decisions were rash, based on a desire for belonging, a tangled love affair, exhaustion from working so hard, and impulsivity. However, thinking deeply all these times had some balance. Live is never linear and I learned way too ealry that one must roll with the punches. I had a friend named Fredrick J. Jackson, that knew me well. Once i was his neighbor in Hollywood, and he experienced my learning to plug for survival at Pacific Vanguard Insurance Company. Me a would be actress? Yes, it is true, I learned early it was connections mostly and money that opened doors. Other choices were grim. So I took the Road of Hard Knocks..and you know I would not do it over. From my own perspective, I will leave the planet integrity in tact. As for graduation- only attended high school and walked out alone into a quite extraordinary future.. God Bless, graduates and not---keep on--hopefully.
Suleika and Celstial Marina, I couldn't wait to leave college. Well, the fact that I transfered to three different schools, searching for "belonging" might explain that. And then, I went on searching and stopped "becoming" and settled for relationship after relationship where I never had to find myself as I lost myself in others. Last September 21, was my "Freedom Day." The day when I chose "me," left my relationship of 20 years in a path of snot, tears, fears and that first night, in the new (old-1898) house, slept more deeply and woke knowing I had chosen "Me." Please know, that The Isolation Journals were a large part of my finding myself and mustering something deep inside me that said, "Go, go now, run and don't look back." This morning, as the sun is just winking through in shades of pink and orange, with my hot cup of coffee and a blueberry scone, I have Commenced and will continue to do so. I am so proud of you, Suleika, for your honor at Brown is just fabulous! Marina, you continue to inspire and isn't that a commencing too?
You have commenced and will continue to do so. I love that. ❤️
Thank you, Holly! Do I hear "Pomp and Circumstance" playing? hee/hee
"Celestial Marina" - beautifully expressed, Mary.
Thank you, Kim. My daughter is convinced that we live on different planes of consciousness and I think she is right. I wonder if Deja Vu is a swift revisit to a different plane?
I love that, like déjà vu is the softest slip between veils. A brief overlap. A reminder we’re layered, not linear.
Mary, I find it so inspiring that you put yourself first, - creating a new life, a new Mary. I always feel a degree of simpatico in reading your posts, - including musical references! Enjoying a virtual cup of coffee with you this morning. Cheers!
Cheers, Nancy! Thank you. I'm enjoying a Dark Roast. And you?
I'm more of a medium roast gal! This one is a blend from Colombia, Guatemala & Sumatra..... with hints of "citrus fruit, brown sugar, chocolate truffle." None of which I taste!! :)
Wow, that sounds amazing! My palate is so uncultivated. I love all kinds of food, but cannot pick out the hints of anything! I'd be terrible at a winde tasting, "Hmmm...I'm picking up a hint of...nope, got nothing."
Lovely!!
Thank you, Danny!
Somehow, for me, an enormous sense of curiosity goes hand in hand with possibilities. My life has been, and continues to be, a journey into possibility. I have lived with loneliness, a feeling of separation, doubt, fear, and managed to use all of this as fuel to continue on my journey. At 77, I now realize the blessings in all these seeming “darker, negative” feelings and thoughts. Everything has become a beacon of light guiding me towards a rich sense of unity, confidence, and engagement with life. In each moment I find doubt and certainty, fear and courage, despair and quiet peace. My wish, today, is to play music, to compose a sound that touches my heart, your heart, and becomes a vibrating map into a hidden, and very present treasure: the experience of self melting into no-self, diversity melting into one-ness. A solitary life evaporated into community. A frown of disappointment shifts into a gentle smile of contentment. Every moment offers the opportunity for these “alchemical” manifestations, when I remember to remember. Re-member. Real-eyes. “All aboard”, we are invited on this journey that began before I was born, and continues onward after I die. Breathing in and out, night and day, sadness and joy. I and Thou. 🏮
An abbreviation of Arnold Edinborough's quote is something I often think about in terms of possibilities in our lives "If curiosity killed the cat then I say the cat died nobly."
Oh, I love that. A noble end, indeed. Better to be felled by curiosity than dulled by certainty, I think. May we all be so lucky—to go out sniffing at doors we haven’t opened yet.
What a tender thing to wish, to compose something that dissolves the edges between us.
Thank you, David… the vibration of yin and yang is the energy of life. Accepting it brings some peace. And your words have touched my heart today. 💗
I'm on your train David!
David, fellow 77 person: I had just finished writing a comment when I scrolled down and read yours. We seem to be quite alike, not to mention the same age! Since that's so, I really liked what you had to say!
Hello All. I love the picture of you and Jon at commencement. And today's reading was beautiful. I loved "I’ve learned that commencing doesn’t always look like commencing. Commencing can look like waiting. It can look like fear, like confusion, like heartbreak, or some other ending that is really a beginning. And the only way I know how to navigate the uncertainty of being human is to pay attention. To take note of what’s working and what’s not. To be brave enough to change course, to inch closer to whatever it is that makes you feel alive—that fills you with a sense of possibility." And I loved " We don’t have a word for the opposite of loneliness, but if we did, I’d say that’s how I feel at Yale. How I feel right now. Here. With all of you. In love, impressed, humbled, scared. And we don’t have to lose that." I learned this after a test a whole new diagnosis ( I really do not like saying more here). And this reading really touched me and held me with hope and possibilities. And so I have a new doctor, who I meet at the end of July. I am grateful.
Thinking about you Gina and hoping for good results with your new doctor.I love your line about paying attention to what is working and what isn’t
💕
💕
To all the possibilities, Gina. X
💕
I wasn’t planning to commence anything today. And yet, somewhere between a whim & a wig, I did.
We took a spontaneous trip back to the country, my friend & I, & stumbled into a shop that felt like it had swallowed a fever dream—part antique store, part theatre green room, part accidental church. There was a poodle with the manners of an heiress. A shopkeeper who told us, quite plainly, that she was bipolar. A woman with a bouffant straight out of a 1950s dance number, all hairspray & hope. And one other stranger who refused classification, which only made her more essential to the scene.
We tried on wigs. For hours. Five strangers & an heiress dog trying on other versions of ourselves. We posed. We preened. We laughed so hard it echoed off the vintage glassware. The music was pure 70s—a genre that never asks permission to feel good—& for hours, we let it lead us.
I hate photos taken of me. I didn’t as a child—back then, I adored the camera, its click like applause. I was born during a brief window of abundance, a flicker where things were better, & my childhood was captured in colour, while my sisters were documented in black & white. The family’s Wizard of Oz moment happened with me. But somewhere along the way, I stepped behind the lens—maybe for safety, maybe for control. It felt easier to frame than to be framed.
But today, beneath a cascading wig & a film noir hat, she returned. That girl—the one who loved the lens. She raised the camera to catch us, & this time, I didn’t flinch. I looked straight into it. Later, when I saw the photo, I didn’t recognise myself—not at first. But something did. The cheeks. The dimples. The nerve. She hadn’t disappeared. She’d just been waiting for a bit of absurdity to draw her out.
And maybe that’s what believing in possibility really looks like—not a reinvention, but a return. Not a five-year plan, but five strangers in wigs saying yes to a moment with no purpose beyond joy.
And yes, the wig came home with me—though I suspect she chose me.
I’m so looking forward to the release of The Book of Alchemy this August, Dr. Suleika Jaouad.
This shop sounds like a dream—now I might have to open my own!!
Can you imagine? The Royal Legume, wig perched high, holding court on a wee throne like Marie Antoinette—paws crossed, unbothered by all & sundry. You must, Suleika, you must!
The cheeks. The dimples. The NERVE. ❤️❤️❤️
Kim, this is just pure gold. "She'd just been waiting for a bit of absurdity to draw her out." I think you have the makings of a book here.
Thank you, Mary. I’m not sure if it’s a book yet, but something’s beginning—& apparently, she brought wigs.
And when the book comes out, we shall all wear wigs. It will be grand, and silly and as you say, "a return."
Yes. Grand & silly & sacred, all at once. A procession of returns—one wig at a time.
I'm in!
I need to know where this fever dream antique shop with wigs is located! I love the image of “a poodle with the manners of an heiress”.
Technically it’s in Victoria, Australia, Carol. Spiritually, it’s in a Wes Anderson film with a dash of mild hysteria!
When reading your writing I feel like an interloper, a voyeur, but not necessarily in the worst possible way. However, the imagery of you stepping in front of the lens, delightful. One funny anecdote: the best area to find wigs in Los Angeles has a strict limit on trying them on —you only get to try on two. Yes, no matter how many catch your eye, you only get to put two on your head. While I understand the policy, it can be difficult.
I’m oddly comforted by the idea of secret wig bureaucracy. LA, always managing reinvention like it’s inventory.
To be honest, my particular exposure to this world was part fascination and part frustration. When the decision to visit is out of necessity and not choice, dictates regarding selection can dampen an otherwise fantastical experience.
Kim this is absolutely beautiful! I grinned reading this! I relate to the sentiment about hidden parts of yourself. I sometimes feel that way too - a "good girl" on the outside (quiet, reserved, kind, etc.), but in a restaurant bathroom, kitchen or car, I can dance and let loose... flirty, free, daring, alive. I yearn for her to emerge in the world more often. Thank you for the reminder that it's possible ❤️
Louise! Here’s to the bathroom dancer, the car singer, the hidden marvel. Let her spill into daylight. She sounds electric. May the world be lucky enough to meet her, fully unfiltered.
We can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over.
Possibilities . . . I woke up this morning feeling off. Not sad, not lonely, not hopeless but also not enthusiastic, not excited, not in a positive frame of mind. I love Sundays. I wake up slowly, a day where generally I can choose to stay home all day. I look forward to reading Suleika's and her guest's essays. A day of possibilities. When I read today's prompts, I thought "how perfect". How often these Sunday morning prompts are exactly what I need to hear. I've had a great deal of trauma in my life including having lost two daughters (one a full term baby, and the other a 30 year old young woman), being diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease which has left me unable to work full-time and therefore financially insecure. And I am in my sixties. Does this "sense of possibility" apply to me as well, with only a couple of decades of living ahead of me? If that? As humans we live in our storylines. We create our own lives by creating our own storyline. I often tell my two daughters I could be wheelchair bound, living quite a different life, if I had chosen to succumb to all my physical challenges. I could easily choose to be sad and despondent every day. Instead, I refuse to give up on the possibilities. I can't do everything but I can swim and kayak and still massage a few clients. I can write and create art. I can love on my wife and my grandbabies. Most recently I have started a little home business to help sustain myself. It has also challenged my brain and brought some excitement back into my daily life. I sometimes have to pinch myself because anything IS possible, and I CAN rewrite my storyline every day. Thank you, Suleika, as always, for lifting my spirits and giving me hope. It is no coincidence that the Divine and a thoughtful nurse brought your first book into our lives. And congratulations on your doctorate! Wow! The possibilities continue to be endless and beyond our wildest dreams ♡♡
❤️❤️
"anything is possible, and I can rewrite my storyline every day." Your perspective inspires me. Thank you for sharing your story<3
My daughter graduated with a Masters in Teaching from Brown last week. She and her friends walked by you and they took a selfie with you and Jon behind them. The smiles, excitement and love in your faces jumps off the page. What a bonus to her graduation. Seeing you both receive your degrees and in hearing Jon play.
Please tell her I said congratulations!!
Thank you! ❤️
When I turned 45, I realize that my life was probably half over. Many of my relatives have lived to their early 90s, so maybe I was not quite half done. I had an epiphany— instead of thinking that my life was half over, I could think about the fact that I had another 45-year-long life to live. What had I done in the first 45 years? I learned to crawl, to walk, to run, to ride a bike, to swim. I learned a whole language! I earned a bachelors degree, and a masters degree. I could do all of that again! I had always wanted to be a dancer, so I started taking ballroom and Latin dance lessons. I had dabbled in Spanish, but I decided to make a concerted effort to learn Spanish. I considered another degree, and decided that was not the right path for me, so instead I pursued many short-term learning opportunities. I spent a week at Yale learning about colonial history, I spent a week at Tulane learning about jazz and American history. I spent a week at Mass Art learning about public art and architecture. Now I’m 60, and recently retired due to a major health issue. If I live to be 90, that is nearly another lifetime. It IS a lifetime for some people. And there’s still so much to do and be and learn!
I agree with Holly—I love everything about this!
Thank you Suleika! I’m in the middle of “Between Two Kingdoms” and it is balm to my soul. Thank you for that!
I absolutely, wholeheartedly adore this.
You energy and optimism are infectious. I hold your words in my learning craving heart.
I was lucky enough to spend several months in NYC in 2015 and it was then I came across Marina's book - I loved it so much, I gave a friend a copy and a young homeless woman, sitting outside Barnes and Noble. She was asking for money for food and books and, given those are two key sources of sustinence, I gave her both food AND Marina's book.
It's one I go back to regularly and all these years later, Marina's death saddens me more as time goes on. You cannot help but sense that her work would have made a difference, right?
Congratulations, dear Suleika (and Jon) on this special honour. And thankyou for sharing Marina's words with these young graduates - I hope they live their lives fully, in her honour and for their own sakes.
Kass, "Yes!" to food and books.
I'm reminded of when Carrie Bradshaw (in an episode of SATC) spoke about her copy of Vogue feeding her soul more than food. While Vogue doesn't have that impact on me, books do. I remember talking to the young woman in question and I asked her why she asked for books as well as food. She said "because I know if I read, it makes me smarter and being educated by books is my ticket out of this". I wasn't about to argue with that (and included $20 inside the book too).
I really hope she was able to break that cycle.
Suleika I know you mentioned this amazing person died & I’m so sorry about that. Somehow, for me, I feel this entitlement with this piece with folks that are so fortunate to go to Yale. Maybe even jealousy that I didn’t have these opportunities. Unfortunately I was made to go to a horrible school down south, and when I say “I was made” because I had no spirit left to fight to go to drama school. Never having much support in my life, for me, I didn’t go to college of my choice until I was in my mid forties & it was a wonderful experience. Everything worked backwards for me with choosing a school I loved, finding myself thru performing & meditation, realizing I did have business acumen in book publicity, & knowing there’s no rules on when to change my life—I just had to do it!
When I was college bound I was obsessed by journalism at prestigious Eastern school. For various reasons I wasn't ready not going to fulfill my dreams yet I currently write and inspire others that reading and writing matter.
Tears exploding from my eyes on this prompt. Marina, - your gifts are still appreciated though you've departed this world. My life has been filled with lane changes, starting over, and re-thinking possibilities. It hasn't been the road less taken, more- which trail to choose when there are so many? At 65, I'm still in the game, knowing there's a new chapter, but not quite fixed on what exactly it is, or where it will lead. And that's okay.
Congratulations on your honorary doctorate Suleika! I already envision both you and Jon as Deans of Joy & Creativity!
I looked out the window
All I could see was one leaf
It was not a symphony
It was only a note
There was not much hope
Slowly, ever so slowly
Other leaves joined in
I could hear the melody
Of a song join in
But unfortunately life was ending
Slowly, one line at a time
Look out the window again
Don’t give up hope
Sing the leaves to me
Sings the sky to me
Everything responds in its time
Life is commencing
Dr . Jaouard, (Wow!) Before I even read today's prompt, Thank you for yours!!!
I love this:
"... How can we quiet the anxious mind? The one that’s all fear, all negativity bias, worrying about all the ways things could go sideways. The one that keeps us stuck, that makes us think we have to accept or resign ourselves to a fate we don’t want. How do we cultivate a sense of expansive, promising possibility instead? Rather than fixating on what could go wrong, how do we focus on what could go right?"
and I love how you took us from the rawness of where you were when you graduated to where you are when, "...I’ve learned that commencing doesn’t always look like commencing. Commencing can look like waiting. It can look like fear, like confusion, like heartbreak, or some other ending that is really a beginning. And the only way I know how to navigate the uncertainty of being human is to pay attention. To take note of what’s working and what’s not. To be brave enough to change course, to inch closer to whatever it is that makes you feel alive—that fills you with a sense of possibility."
At 68 years old, and having recently had the wonders of my 50th high school reunion, and having just experienced one of the more chaotic, challenging weeks in my recollection, and despite and with all that, this morning I woke very grateful for the beautiful sun rising.
Thank you!
For me the opposite of loneliness is “connection.” I strive to connect with someone or something everyday. It is what gives me purpose right now and motivates me to keep going. Thank you for this. Sending love your way. ❤️
I am so glad that it is never too late. I have only now and forward to go. And yes the possibility that the days will be short or long are part of the mystery. Never too late to do what? I am wondering if being will suffice.
Being will suffice ❤️
Yes, we must come to the point where we can say with joy that being will more than suffice.
My husband and I recently returned from a trip to Germany where we visited our son who has a fellowship to study there for a year. My son and I had traveled to Germany eight years earlier on a summer vacation. At the time, we traveled all over on trains that were always exactly on time. So it is no wonder that when I planned this trip I had the same expectations of the trains when I purchased our tickets to travel from city to city. A lot had changed in those eight years. Trains were no longer on time and the signage was very difficult to follow. As a result, we missed a few trains and got onto a few wrong trains and buses. I was petrified that we would miss the train connecting us to the train that would take us to the airport until I was able to change the first train to allow for a long enough interval between trains so that we could not possibly miss the second train to the airport.
My husband was able to point that we saw some towns we had not originally planned to see and that we did eventually get everywhere we needed to despite going in the wrong direction a few times and missing some connections.
I have been working to accepting that I can not plan or anticipate everything in advance and have made great progress, but these transportation issues made me realize that I may have a ways to go. In reviewing the trajectory my life has taken, I feel that each decision and turn has lead to the next. Everything I have done has brought me to where I am today and I do not regret even the mistakes. If I had to do it over, I wish that I could have been less worried about how things would turn out and just trusted the process. I wish I had been more adventurous and tried more new things. I used to beat myself up for not becoming a manager and being satisfied with just being a line worker, but I have come to realize that I would hate being a manager. Being forced to ask my staff to do unreasonable things, having to discipline those who do not do their work and getting flack from those above me for what my staff was or was not doing. So I am fine just where I am. I plan to retire in a few years and I hope to explore new things. I do not know what exactly I will do, but I am ok with the uncertainty.
Some of my decisions were rash, based on a desire for belonging, a tangled love affair, exhaustion from working so hard, and impulsivity. However, thinking deeply all these times had some balance. Live is never linear and I learned way too ealry that one must roll with the punches. I had a friend named Fredrick J. Jackson, that knew me well. Once i was his neighbor in Hollywood, and he experienced my learning to plug for survival at Pacific Vanguard Insurance Company. Me a would be actress? Yes, it is true, I learned early it was connections mostly and money that opened doors. Other choices were grim. So I took the Road of Hard Knocks..and you know I would not do it over. From my own perspective, I will leave the planet integrity in tact. As for graduation- only attended high school and walked out alone into a quite extraordinary future.. God Bless, graduates and not---keep on--hopefully.