Your great miracle, Besides your brilliance and fortitude, is the wonderful support of friends, family and doggos. Iām sure that all the internal screams of fear and pain are soothed by the love. I see you floating in an ocean of love.
To honor my big 80 last month, I have been on a daily exercise regime. I alternate between 45 minute walks along the country road that passes the Omega Institute, and a free weight and yoga regime. Yesterday I was on my walk. I just passed Omega, clearly not paying great attention because my foot twisted at the edge of the road where it meets the gravel, and I went down onto my hands and knees. Several people immediately came over, two of them were doctors. š Thankfully, I was not badly hurt, (perhaps because of my practice of karate when in my 30s, I learned how to fall). I did scrape up hands, knees, and the corner of my mouth. somebody gave me a ride home and I felt really shook up, my ribs hurt everything hurt. I did not feel sorry for myself, however. I felt grateful that nothing was broken and that in a few days I would be able to get back to my regime, hopefully with more mindfulness. I guess my point is that although my day was changed, I had planned to meet a friend and go on an outing, I was OK. I just lay in bed all day with my two little doggos, and nursed my boo-boos. Thank you for your inspiration. Always good to remember our simple gratitudes.
Good morning Suleika and IJ community. As usual, Suleika, you offer the perfect prompt for this day! Thank you for sharing so intimately ā” The ways I escape my pain are through eating and working. I can't even imagine giving myself a day on the couch snuggling with my little pooch. I've gained 20 lbs since my daughter Anjelica left this earthly realm, eating expensive and lovely chocolate nearly every single day, followed by hand-crafted espresso lattes from our local coffee shop. I get lost in this combination. Even while Anjelica was at MSK, I would endulge myself every day with a hot latte from the coffee/gift shop, and savor a white chocolate "cannoli" bar (filled with cannoli crunch). And work . . .I went back to work part-time and now I work two jobs, filling all my days with work and a rare day off here and there. What is on the other side of these escapes? Tears, weepy tears, and longing, and sadness. I recently stopped the coffees and chocolate, for my health (and pocketbook). But I still distract myself from my loss with work. When Anjelica first passed, I used to see her sitting next to me and we would talk throughout the day. That was comforting. As time passed and the reality sunk in deeper and deeper (its been over two years now), I noticed that I have unconsciously found ways to stop thinking about Anjelica and the big, dark, empty space in my life that has been left gaping in my very soul. Because I am not numbing my feelings with food, I am emotionally raw. If I sit too long, and just be, I can easily be overcome with sadness, memories and tears. This grief. Who knew, certainly not me. I never ever thought I would lose a child and it's still hard for me to accept. I listened to a great deal of Pema Chodron and her "leaning into the sharp points" while going through my painful divorce years ago. She was a tremendous help to me. But this go-around I seem to be avoiding those razor sharp points for as long as I can, fearful I won't be able to manage the pain and that I might collapse and literally drown in my grief.
Sending love, Terri. I lost my youngest sister almost 14 years ago, and canāt imagine losing a child. I remember those days of reaching for anything, especially food, that would take away the pain. Thank goodness for those expensive lattes and chocolates that saw you through those terrible days of initial raw grief. Two years is still very early after a loss of this magnitude. Be gentle with yourself. ā„ļø
"Leaning into the the sharp points." And so, Terri, with your very beautiful, crushingly sad post today, you have helped me. Your honesty, and bravery to post the pain, has shifted something inside me. I also want to tell you that I am and will be thinking of you...what does this actually "do?" I don't know. And, I will be thinking of you.
Dearest Terri, thank you so much for sharing this journey of love with your daughter. I cannot imagine the suffering you've endured, I can only sense the edges of it ... just the edges ... just the places that you've shared where you are dipping your toe into the edges of your grief. They feel to me like the edges of your grief and also the edges of your love for Angelica ... the deep love you have for her ... from the moment you first looked into her eyes and knew you were so connected, so deeply connected. It could be that she's missing you too, reaching towards you to connect with you too ... and maybe you're feeling safer to being able to wade deeper into the grief, the love -- a little more each day, knowing that she's still with you, still encouraging you, still connecting with you in the way you feel her ... even right how as you are reading this, she may be leaning in -- she is so present in your life even now it feels like ... and still ... she is no longer in physical form, no longer in matter ... but I have the feeling you are deeply connected in spirit, in silence, in Nature -- where, from the beginning, you always were. Two lights, two bright lights connecting in love. Wishing you much love and safety and clarity today dearest Terri.
This is one of those posts (both texts) that I must save and read over and over and over again. Iāve spent much of my life avoiding my pain because I didnāt have the skills to be with it. I also didnāt believe in myself or trust that I would get through it. For a while I felt like the biggest failure but later I learned that I simply hadnāt learned the skillsā¦yet. Now Iām on that journey and trying to support myself by learning at a pace that is sustainable and gentle. Life has absolutely given me the perfect combination of somewhat traumatic circumstances to find myself on this painful, incredible, beautiful journey.
Such a beautiful reflection Emily. I've found myself on this journey now too - learning and implementing these skills and practices has been incredible helpful and healing. Just a few days ago, I felt incredibly grateful for my life, for the journey thus far which has allowed me to come to this point, to learn, to see life through new eyes ā¤ļø
I couldnāt agree more. I feel like gratitude is the side effect. The healing is not easy but the moments of insight and beauty make it with it donāt they?
We grow the most in life during difficult times or experiences. You used a key word, that being skill. Too often people overlook this part of their journeys. Continue to be gentle with yourself, Emily. And you worded life beautifully: āPainful, incredible, beautiful journey.ā I couldnāt agree more! šš¦
Going into today, I had made a lot of plans on how to āmake the mostā of my Saturday after a fairly grueling week of work and doctors appointments had me running all over the place. Instead I took a four hour nap by the window in a soft pink chair. And it was glorious! That was what I needed to be doing with my day, and for a long time, I would have given myself grief about it. No more š¤š¤š¤
I think I escape by walking, by taking myself into the bush near my house and walking and walking in a land of trees and birds and streams that feel like a storybook that will end happily ever after. I escape into that place for hours, placing one foot in front of the next. And the moment I emerge from my little land of beautiful sounds and sun dappled dirt tracks, the troubles returns.
I think I struggle to cease control, to let the hands of the universe toy with whatever they like. I think sometimes āreal lifeā is too out of control for me, so I turn to walking the same tracks I have since a child, knowing them like the back of my hand.
Maybe if I didnāt hide so much in that place, I could grow more and learn to relinquish control and allow things to happen - good things. I think my need for control sometimes prevents bad things but also prevents good things. I might learn about the balance of life more.
I walk, as well, Kate, and whatever wild I could find, as a child invisible and lonely, that was my help and my solace. For me, walking is prayer. Meditation. Jesus, too, went in to the wilderness. You know, the world is very loud. In nature, in bird song and trees and the glorious wind, the sea and the night sky, God speaks to me. Keep walking, Kate. You are doing just fine. Sending love.
Walking is so cathartic in so many ways, Kate. I used to be a person who liked feeling like I was in control. I say āliked feelingā as control is an illusion which I have learned to relinquish in my life. I am older than you, so I have had more time to work on it. š I share this with you as encouragement. It takes time and practice when we are born with the trait of control. I used to envy my friends who werenāt like me in this way, who lived each moment without feeling the need to feel in control, as I had. Your form of escape in walking is a healthy activity to engage in. You will be able to cease your struggle with control. And trust me, itās so very liberating. š
Thank you so much for your kind words Susan, I really appreciate your advice. I will continue to work on my relationship with ācontrolā and practice letting things happen and working with what I can, ngÄ mihi nui (thank you very much) š
At ten years old, I walked up my parentsā quarter mile driveway, crossed the intersecting road, kept walking into an untended field, gazing at the distant forest beyond, and prayed: let me die, or become a monk. Now, 76, I am still alive(to die sooner than later) and not a monk. A few days ago I realized how my years have been full of avoiding something. I have designed a lifestyle full of solitude, I sleep on the floor(with a few layers of cloth underneath), am very solitary, only occasionally see friends, and compose (improvise) music often in response to poems(often haiku written by other people). For years I held unto a fierce anger towards my father. This anger, and what it buried, led me to numb myself for 13 years with an eating disorder, bulimia. Thatās a story in itself. A few days ago I wrote: āmy father and I were two cupids shooting arrows at each other, as though we were enemies(and it often felt that way).ā Now I realize we were two cupids shooting arrows of love at each other, ignorant of how to feel and express our passion and love for each other. I have created a lifestyle of solitude and designed a way of life to avoid a fierce love, for my father, mother, brother, sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins, people of my Jewish heritage, and letās expand this family to everyone else, humanity. Because, if we meet, whoever you might be, there is this scary possibility that this fierce love will arise, and then what?!? This is my greatest fear. I have numbed myself for years. These days, with support from various directions(another long story) like Suleikaās Isolation Journals, music, poetry, and the exquisite Beauty of Nature(which includes humanity), I am holding this fierce love with more compassion, patience, forgiveness(the gift of letting go of resentments), and a passion for possibilities. My blood flows with curiosity. So, here goes, I send this out to you, and you too. Best, š®
Well for 30 plus years of my life bulimia protected me from feelings of hurt, fear, isolation. It's a numbing agent . I finally saved myself, (no family member helped me and they all knew) and I was free. But enslaved with not knowing how to feel emotions alone with no way to stuff myself from the feelings. It is hard especially as I age. It's a tough addiction as you may not have to drink or do drugs but you have to eat! I am proud of myself but also stuck with my empty self.
Gail - The more I seek honesty about the reasons behind my eating disorder, the more readily the layers of the onion are peeled away. Thank you for sharing your truth.
David - I too had an eating disorder as a child, parallel to my mothers alcoholism. Thank you for your perspective of cupids shooting arrows at each other. I often daydreamed I was either the jovial milkman's daughter, sent to this couple of wayward parents to fix their many -isms, or the daughter of Bing Crosby's character in White Christmas. Know that your mellifluous words brought much comfort to a fellow introvert whose 60-year old scars are just now beginning to heal. Thank you.
Sep 15Ā·edited Sep 15Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt
Big warm hugs, Suleika. I feel a kinship with you, especially today. Thank you for articulating two things I've felt over these last years.
THIS (1): āI need to stay within what I can control, and whatās in my control is how I feel right now, how I live my life right now. And my life right now is good. Itās good despite illness. Itās maybe even good because of itābecause of how it has clarified what I value and rerouted my priorities.ā
As a caregiver it's difficult to explain to others why I'm NOT complaining and crying and riling against things. I shifted fairly early on with Dad's unpredictable symptoms, FROM trying to control and pre-empt the health issues, GI issues etc TO refocusing onto what I could control: my attitude and approach...So, I wrote a mantra for myself, to affirm my priorities and my values. I need to remind myself and say it aloud...here's part of it:
""I am positive, perceptive, resilient, agile, brave and resourceful.
I choose clarity. I make head-heart-gut aligned decisions even if painful. I do NOT fog, numb, defer or abdicate my power.
I have the conviction to offer empathy, inspiration & support to other carers. We curate quality moments. LOVE and GRATITUDE""
This fits with the second thing you wrote that resonates deeply; (2) "to accept whatās happening moment to moment, and to allow for necessary adjustments, to pivot, to find relief, to cultivate small joys.ā"
AGILITY has been so important to me. Susan David's Emotional Agility work has helped me lightly and curiously inspect my feelings and move through. I'm still learning but it's easier than in 2017
Sometimes I need to painfully hold the messy feelings and keep repeating the mantra or simply say LOVE and gratitude and conjure that warmth.
I think I'm more at peace with the crappy times and the thousands of things on my to-do list because I can dial into the moment or spark..or maybe because I can see and feel the love and gratitude that underpins it all. Leaning into love seems to remind me of the deeper value.
Thanks, Louise! It's actually longer than that and changed from when we were caring for Dad, to now caring for Mum with her cancer. The essence is the same but things and days are different with Mum.
I write...at first, it was to escape to a time long ago-lovely in the reflection of the pain and the pleasure. Now, I write, to escape and to create. And in that dual process, I move forward. I am leaving a relationship of 20 years, moving to a lovely folk victorian house. I feel it was waiting for me to cherish the woodwork, the light, the exposed brick, and to build a history there as I leave behind (not without tears, and sobbing) the life I thought I would have.
Holly, thank you! This Sat. is "moving day." Once I have all our things (and our kitty is happily exploring inside) I will exhale. I know down to my bones that it is the right thing to do.
I was so happy to see an email from you this morning, Susu. And very happy to read that youāre managing your situation in a way that feels right for you. I wish many sunny and restful days for you.
I needed both of these essays today. Thank you both so much.
Ways I have escaped my pain. Deep deep denial thru the pain of growing up feeling āI will be taken care of ā and of course i wasnāt taken care of and it helped for awhile & then when I was ready to deal with the truth, it revealed itself, and I fell apart and began to wake up to the reality that the only one who is going to take care of me is me! It was painful but I was ready to deal with the truth! Food addiction has been another way of not feeling my pain and telling Self āhow bad I am!ā When I began meditating and allowing myself to sit with the pain, without judgement, I slowly began to have the courage, and resiliency to feel the truth and change. Giving oneself lots of love and compassion is one of the keys! Bless you allšÆā¤ļø
Good morning. First, congratulations on 10 years of sobriety. Iām a former drinker too and Iāve been sober a long time. Alcohol used to be my self medication.
When I feel anxious I get in my car and drive. I take the dogs and drive. Usually my go to is near water. The ocean helps to calm me. I comb the beach for shells, rocks, sea glass. I take pictures of the nature around me. I go on nature walks or just walk. I visit my little patch of wild created for the pollinators and listen to the song of the bees. Sometimes I sleep. I am often tired and sleep gives me a break from the constant mind chatter. And writing or drawing are cathartic. Iāll also listen to an audiobook, or binge a series. Right now my go to has been Call the Midwife for binging. Iāll be starting Rings of Power soon. A good cry is also soothing but thatās not something I can force.
Wishing everyone a nice Sunday. Keeping Suleika in my thoughts always! šŖ¶
Hi Suleika, I love that youāre coming through this time with a peaceful calm. Isnāt that the way the Buddhists do their life? You offer all of us the opportunity to learn from this.
Thank you, Laura, for your vulnerability and your truth. I believe I turn to my yoga now when in pain, perhaps it may be a quiet still seat on my mat, or a more restless set of vinyasas. My yoga mat is my safe space and has been for over 20 years. Alcohol used to be my escape, and now itās an occasional indulgence. Iām so happy itās not my escape anymore, life changing, as you know. ā¤ļø
I donāt escape or run like I did when I was young.
I sit with whatever emotions are moving through.
Iām human. I feel overwhelmed often by grief or pain. I weep.
I practice acceptance. I understand my brain does its funky dance and I have practices that nourish my beingāthe soul of meā when the squishy brain and body isnāt cooperating.
I try not to make big life changes in the middle of a brain funk. Donāt recommend it. Though I have to say creativity in the midst of pain is alchemy and Susu, you and Jon, remind me of daily joy practices often.
Poetry is a balm for my heart. So are dog snuggles. And bird watching. Music. Art. Cooking. Walking. Swimming. Nature. Trees. Sea.
Iām not sure if creative endeavors are an escape as much as a welcoming? A saying to the grief to sit beside me and be. Weep if you need to. Make art. Dance. Write. Know what I mean?
Everything is in motion. Physicists know this. Emotions move through like everything else. Like seasons and tides and bird migrations.
Letās see what happens next?
I wish I had a magic wand or a miracle machine.
And yet, hot sauce! Beloveds in a beautiful garden! Lentil pup and Sunny too. And River. And Jon. So much be-ing to be-hold!
Love you, Suleika. Unconditionally. So much love too to Carmen and Holly too.
Dear SuSu. That's what one of my boyfriends used to call me. The picking and bottling of red peppers seems to be a symbolism of what you must go through. The way you are facing your situation is pretty amazing and very brave. Acceptance is the way according to the ancient philosophers. But you do seem to have a calmness of spirit that can lift you up when you need it the most. Much love and messages of healing are coming your way. Stay strong. Be well. Be healed. š ā„ļøš
Dear, dear Suleika, bless you for the seeds of courage you plant in me, knowing the day will come when they sustain me, bring me ballast. And then in your radical acceptance, your quest for small joys, you point the way beyond simply evading fear but embracing the shards of light always somewhere in the darkness. I cannot count the number of hands you hold as you write here our very instruction guide, our manifesto for best living all along the way, in darkness or light. Bless you, a thousand times bless you. Weāre holding your hand too. It works both ways; by definition. Xox
This is so beautifully said, Barbara. I recently went through a loss, and after I wallowed for a good long while, I reminded myself that I knew what to do with my sadness--that Suleika and other members of this beautiful community planted the "seeds of courage" in me, as you say. ā¤ļø
Your great miracle, Besides your brilliance and fortitude, is the wonderful support of friends, family and doggos. Iām sure that all the internal screams of fear and pain are soothed by the love. I see you floating in an ocean of love.
To honor my big 80 last month, I have been on a daily exercise regime. I alternate between 45 minute walks along the country road that passes the Omega Institute, and a free weight and yoga regime. Yesterday I was on my walk. I just passed Omega, clearly not paying great attention because my foot twisted at the edge of the road where it meets the gravel, and I went down onto my hands and knees. Several people immediately came over, two of them were doctors. š Thankfully, I was not badly hurt, (perhaps because of my practice of karate when in my 30s, I learned how to fall). I did scrape up hands, knees, and the corner of my mouth. somebody gave me a ride home and I felt really shook up, my ribs hurt everything hurt. I did not feel sorry for myself, however. I felt grateful that nothing was broken and that in a few days I would be able to get back to my regime, hopefully with more mindfulness. I guess my point is that although my day was changed, I had planned to meet a friend and go on an outing, I was OK. I just lay in bed all day with my two little doggos, and nursed my boo-boos. Thank you for your inspiration. Always good to remember our simple gratitudes.
You have a wonderful attitude! I love that in people! Happy belated birthday! š
Good morning Suleika and IJ community. As usual, Suleika, you offer the perfect prompt for this day! Thank you for sharing so intimately ā” The ways I escape my pain are through eating and working. I can't even imagine giving myself a day on the couch snuggling with my little pooch. I've gained 20 lbs since my daughter Anjelica left this earthly realm, eating expensive and lovely chocolate nearly every single day, followed by hand-crafted espresso lattes from our local coffee shop. I get lost in this combination. Even while Anjelica was at MSK, I would endulge myself every day with a hot latte from the coffee/gift shop, and savor a white chocolate "cannoli" bar (filled with cannoli crunch). And work . . .I went back to work part-time and now I work two jobs, filling all my days with work and a rare day off here and there. What is on the other side of these escapes? Tears, weepy tears, and longing, and sadness. I recently stopped the coffees and chocolate, for my health (and pocketbook). But I still distract myself from my loss with work. When Anjelica first passed, I used to see her sitting next to me and we would talk throughout the day. That was comforting. As time passed and the reality sunk in deeper and deeper (its been over two years now), I noticed that I have unconsciously found ways to stop thinking about Anjelica and the big, dark, empty space in my life that has been left gaping in my very soul. Because I am not numbing my feelings with food, I am emotionally raw. If I sit too long, and just be, I can easily be overcome with sadness, memories and tears. This grief. Who knew, certainly not me. I never ever thought I would lose a child and it's still hard for me to accept. I listened to a great deal of Pema Chodron and her "leaning into the sharp points" while going through my painful divorce years ago. She was a tremendous help to me. But this go-around I seem to be avoiding those razor sharp points for as long as I can, fearful I won't be able to manage the pain and that I might collapse and literally drown in my grief.
Sending love to you, Terri. Grateful for your honesty and vulnerability. ā¤ļø
We are with you Terri ā¤ļø
Sending love, Terri. I lost my youngest sister almost 14 years ago, and canāt imagine losing a child. I remember those days of reaching for anything, especially food, that would take away the pain. Thank goodness for those expensive lattes and chocolates that saw you through those terrible days of initial raw grief. Two years is still very early after a loss of this magnitude. Be gentle with yourself. ā„ļø
"Leaning into the the sharp points." And so, Terri, with your very beautiful, crushingly sad post today, you have helped me. Your honesty, and bravery to post the pain, has shifted something inside me. I also want to tell you that I am and will be thinking of you...what does this actually "do?" I don't know. And, I will be thinking of you.
Sending love to you, Terri. ā¤ļø
Dearest Terri, thank you so much for sharing this journey of love with your daughter. I cannot imagine the suffering you've endured, I can only sense the edges of it ... just the edges ... just the places that you've shared where you are dipping your toe into the edges of your grief. They feel to me like the edges of your grief and also the edges of your love for Angelica ... the deep love you have for her ... from the moment you first looked into her eyes and knew you were so connected, so deeply connected. It could be that she's missing you too, reaching towards you to connect with you too ... and maybe you're feeling safer to being able to wade deeper into the grief, the love -- a little more each day, knowing that she's still with you, still encouraging you, still connecting with you in the way you feel her ... even right how as you are reading this, she may be leaning in -- she is so present in your life even now it feels like ... and still ... she is no longer in physical form, no longer in matter ... but I have the feeling you are deeply connected in spirit, in silence, in Nature -- where, from the beginning, you always were. Two lights, two bright lights connecting in love. Wishing you much love and safety and clarity today dearest Terri.
This is one of those posts (both texts) that I must save and read over and over and over again. Iāve spent much of my life avoiding my pain because I didnāt have the skills to be with it. I also didnāt believe in myself or trust that I would get through it. For a while I felt like the biggest failure but later I learned that I simply hadnāt learned the skillsā¦yet. Now Iām on that journey and trying to support myself by learning at a pace that is sustainable and gentle. Life has absolutely given me the perfect combination of somewhat traumatic circumstances to find myself on this painful, incredible, beautiful journey.
Such a beautiful reflection Emily. I've found myself on this journey now too - learning and implementing these skills and practices has been incredible helpful and healing. Just a few days ago, I felt incredibly grateful for my life, for the journey thus far which has allowed me to come to this point, to learn, to see life through new eyes ā¤ļø
I couldnāt agree more. I feel like gratitude is the side effect. The healing is not easy but the moments of insight and beauty make it with it donāt they?
Yes!! Couldn't have put it better myself!
We grow the most in life during difficult times or experiences. You used a key word, that being skill. Too often people overlook this part of their journeys. Continue to be gentle with yourself, Emily. And you worded life beautifully: āPainful, incredible, beautiful journey.ā I couldnāt agree more! šš¦
Going into today, I had made a lot of plans on how to āmake the mostā of my Saturday after a fairly grueling week of work and doctors appointments had me running all over the place. Instead I took a four hour nap by the window in a soft pink chair. And it was glorious! That was what I needed to be doing with my day, and for a long time, I would have given myself grief about it. No more š¤š¤š¤
Good for you! š
Thank you for two such honest essays š
I think I escape by walking, by taking myself into the bush near my house and walking and walking in a land of trees and birds and streams that feel like a storybook that will end happily ever after. I escape into that place for hours, placing one foot in front of the next. And the moment I emerge from my little land of beautiful sounds and sun dappled dirt tracks, the troubles returns.
I think I struggle to cease control, to let the hands of the universe toy with whatever they like. I think sometimes āreal lifeā is too out of control for me, so I turn to walking the same tracks I have since a child, knowing them like the back of my hand.
Maybe if I didnāt hide so much in that place, I could grow more and learn to relinquish control and allow things to happen - good things. I think my need for control sometimes prevents bad things but also prevents good things. I might learn about the balance of life more.
I walk, as well, Kate, and whatever wild I could find, as a child invisible and lonely, that was my help and my solace. For me, walking is prayer. Meditation. Jesus, too, went in to the wilderness. You know, the world is very loud. In nature, in bird song and trees and the glorious wind, the sea and the night sky, God speaks to me. Keep walking, Kate. You are doing just fine. Sending love.
Thank you so much for sharing such tender words, aroha nui (much love) Jacqueline
Walking is so cathartic in so many ways, Kate. I used to be a person who liked feeling like I was in control. I say āliked feelingā as control is an illusion which I have learned to relinquish in my life. I am older than you, so I have had more time to work on it. š I share this with you as encouragement. It takes time and practice when we are born with the trait of control. I used to envy my friends who werenāt like me in this way, who lived each moment without feeling the need to feel in control, as I had. Your form of escape in walking is a healthy activity to engage in. You will be able to cease your struggle with control. And trust me, itās so very liberating. š
Thank you so much for your kind words Susan, I really appreciate your advice. I will continue to work on my relationship with ācontrolā and practice letting things happen and working with what I can, ngÄ mihi nui (thank you very much) š
I love your imagery of letting the hands of the universe toy with whatever they like.
Thank you Linda
At ten years old, I walked up my parentsā quarter mile driveway, crossed the intersecting road, kept walking into an untended field, gazing at the distant forest beyond, and prayed: let me die, or become a monk. Now, 76, I am still alive(to die sooner than later) and not a monk. A few days ago I realized how my years have been full of avoiding something. I have designed a lifestyle full of solitude, I sleep on the floor(with a few layers of cloth underneath), am very solitary, only occasionally see friends, and compose (improvise) music often in response to poems(often haiku written by other people). For years I held unto a fierce anger towards my father. This anger, and what it buried, led me to numb myself for 13 years with an eating disorder, bulimia. Thatās a story in itself. A few days ago I wrote: āmy father and I were two cupids shooting arrows at each other, as though we were enemies(and it often felt that way).ā Now I realize we were two cupids shooting arrows of love at each other, ignorant of how to feel and express our passion and love for each other. I have created a lifestyle of solitude and designed a way of life to avoid a fierce love, for my father, mother, brother, sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins, people of my Jewish heritage, and letās expand this family to everyone else, humanity. Because, if we meet, whoever you might be, there is this scary possibility that this fierce love will arise, and then what?!? This is my greatest fear. I have numbed myself for years. These days, with support from various directions(another long story) like Suleikaās Isolation Journals, music, poetry, and the exquisite Beauty of Nature(which includes humanity), I am holding this fierce love with more compassion, patience, forgiveness(the gift of letting go of resentments), and a passion for possibilities. My blood flows with curiosity. So, here goes, I send this out to you, and you too. Best, š®
Well for 30 plus years of my life bulimia protected me from feelings of hurt, fear, isolation. It's a numbing agent . I finally saved myself, (no family member helped me and they all knew) and I was free. But enslaved with not knowing how to feel emotions alone with no way to stuff myself from the feelings. It is hard especially as I age. It's a tough addiction as you may not have to drink or do drugs but you have to eat! I am proud of myself but also stuck with my empty self.
Gail - The more I seek honesty about the reasons behind my eating disorder, the more readily the layers of the onion are peeled away. Thank you for sharing your truth.
"My blood flows with curiosity" - beautiful!
I agree!
David - I too had an eating disorder as a child, parallel to my mothers alcoholism. Thank you for your perspective of cupids shooting arrows at each other. I often daydreamed I was either the jovial milkman's daughter, sent to this couple of wayward parents to fix their many -isms, or the daughter of Bing Crosby's character in White Christmas. Know that your mellifluous words brought much comfort to a fellow introvert whose 60-year old scars are just now beginning to heal. Thank you.
Blessings to you dearest Brother. We are on the same page.
Big warm hugs, Suleika. I feel a kinship with you, especially today. Thank you for articulating two things I've felt over these last years.
THIS (1): āI need to stay within what I can control, and whatās in my control is how I feel right now, how I live my life right now. And my life right now is good. Itās good despite illness. Itās maybe even good because of itābecause of how it has clarified what I value and rerouted my priorities.ā
As a caregiver it's difficult to explain to others why I'm NOT complaining and crying and riling against things. I shifted fairly early on with Dad's unpredictable symptoms, FROM trying to control and pre-empt the health issues, GI issues etc TO refocusing onto what I could control: my attitude and approach...So, I wrote a mantra for myself, to affirm my priorities and my values. I need to remind myself and say it aloud...here's part of it:
""I am positive, perceptive, resilient, agile, brave and resourceful.
I choose clarity. I make head-heart-gut aligned decisions even if painful. I do NOT fog, numb, defer or abdicate my power.
I have the conviction to offer empathy, inspiration & support to other carers. We curate quality moments. LOVE and GRATITUDE""
This fits with the second thing you wrote that resonates deeply; (2) "to accept whatās happening moment to moment, and to allow for necessary adjustments, to pivot, to find relief, to cultivate small joys.ā"
AGILITY has been so important to me. Susan David's Emotional Agility work has helped me lightly and curiously inspect my feelings and move through. I'm still learning but it's easier than in 2017
Sometimes I need to painfully hold the messy feelings and keep repeating the mantra or simply say LOVE and gratitude and conjure that warmth.
I think I'm more at peace with the crappy times and the thousands of things on my to-do list because I can dial into the moment or spark..or maybe because I can see and feel the love and gratitude that underpins it all. Leaning into love seems to remind me of the deeper value.
I love your mantra!
Thanks, Louise! It's actually longer than that and changed from when we were caring for Dad, to now caring for Mum with her cancer. The essence is the same but things and days are different with Mum.
I write...at first, it was to escape to a time long ago-lovely in the reflection of the pain and the pleasure. Now, I write, to escape and to create. And in that dual process, I move forward. I am leaving a relationship of 20 years, moving to a lovely folk victorian house. I feel it was waiting for me to cherish the woodwork, the light, the exposed brick, and to build a history there as I leave behind (not without tears, and sobbing) the life I thought I would have.
This sounds perfect. ā¤ļø
Holly, thank you! This Sat. is "moving day." Once I have all our things (and our kitty is happily exploring inside) I will exhale. I know down to my bones that it is the right thing to do.
ā¤ļøā¤ļøā¤ļø
Good morning IJ Community!
I was so happy to see an email from you this morning, Susu. And very happy to read that youāre managing your situation in a way that feels right for you. I wish many sunny and restful days for you.
I needed both of these essays today. Thank you both so much.
Peace and love to all.
Exactly what I needed to hear this morning. Sending gratitude and love
Ways I have escaped my pain. Deep deep denial thru the pain of growing up feeling āI will be taken care of ā and of course i wasnāt taken care of and it helped for awhile & then when I was ready to deal with the truth, it revealed itself, and I fell apart and began to wake up to the reality that the only one who is going to take care of me is me! It was painful but I was ready to deal with the truth! Food addiction has been another way of not feeling my pain and telling Self āhow bad I am!ā When I began meditating and allowing myself to sit with the pain, without judgement, I slowly began to have the courage, and resiliency to feel the truth and change. Giving oneself lots of love and compassion is one of the keys! Bless you allšÆā¤ļø
How healthy it is when we sit without judgement! ā¤ļø
Good morning. First, congratulations on 10 years of sobriety. Iām a former drinker too and Iāve been sober a long time. Alcohol used to be my self medication.
When I feel anxious I get in my car and drive. I take the dogs and drive. Usually my go to is near water. The ocean helps to calm me. I comb the beach for shells, rocks, sea glass. I take pictures of the nature around me. I go on nature walks or just walk. I visit my little patch of wild created for the pollinators and listen to the song of the bees. Sometimes I sleep. I am often tired and sleep gives me a break from the constant mind chatter. And writing or drawing are cathartic. Iāll also listen to an audiobook, or binge a series. Right now my go to has been Call the Midwife for binging. Iāll be starting Rings of Power soon. A good cry is also soothing but thatās not something I can force.
Wishing everyone a nice Sunday. Keeping Suleika in my thoughts always! šŖ¶
Hi Suleika, I love that youāre coming through this time with a peaceful calm. Isnāt that the way the Buddhists do their life? You offer all of us the opportunity to learn from this.
Thank you, Laura, for your vulnerability and your truth. I believe I turn to my yoga now when in pain, perhaps it may be a quiet still seat on my mat, or a more restless set of vinyasas. My yoga mat is my safe space and has been for over 20 years. Alcohol used to be my escape, and now itās an occasional indulgence. Iām so happy itās not my escape anymore, life changing, as you know. ā¤ļø
9/15/24
Dear Love,
What would you have me know today?
Escape
Be-ing in this body is
I donāt escape or run like I did when I was young.
I sit with whatever emotions are moving through.
Iām human. I feel overwhelmed often by grief or pain. I weep.
I practice acceptance. I understand my brain does its funky dance and I have practices that nourish my beingāthe soul of meā when the squishy brain and body isnāt cooperating.
I try not to make big life changes in the middle of a brain funk. Donāt recommend it. Though I have to say creativity in the midst of pain is alchemy and Susu, you and Jon, remind me of daily joy practices often.
Poetry is a balm for my heart. So are dog snuggles. And bird watching. Music. Art. Cooking. Walking. Swimming. Nature. Trees. Sea.
Iām not sure if creative endeavors are an escape as much as a welcoming? A saying to the grief to sit beside me and be. Weep if you need to. Make art. Dance. Write. Know what I mean?
Everything is in motion. Physicists know this. Emotions move through like everything else. Like seasons and tides and bird migrations.
Letās see what happens next?
I wish I had a magic wand or a miracle machine.
And yet, hot sauce! Beloveds in a beautiful garden! Lentil pup and Sunny too. And River. And Jon. So much be-ing to be-hold!
Love you, Suleika. Unconditionally. So much love too to Carmen and Holly too.
Dear SuSu. That's what one of my boyfriends used to call me. The picking and bottling of red peppers seems to be a symbolism of what you must go through. The way you are facing your situation is pretty amazing and very brave. Acceptance is the way according to the ancient philosophers. But you do seem to have a calmness of spirit that can lift you up when you need it the most. Much love and messages of healing are coming your way. Stay strong. Be well. Be healed. š ā„ļøš
Dear, dear Suleika, bless you for the seeds of courage you plant in me, knowing the day will come when they sustain me, bring me ballast. And then in your radical acceptance, your quest for small joys, you point the way beyond simply evading fear but embracing the shards of light always somewhere in the darkness. I cannot count the number of hands you hold as you write here our very instruction guide, our manifesto for best living all along the way, in darkness or light. Bless you, a thousand times bless you. Weāre holding your hand too. It works both ways; by definition. Xox
This is so beautifully said, Barbara. I recently went through a loss, and after I wallowed for a good long while, I reminded myself that I knew what to do with my sadness--that Suleika and other members of this beautiful community planted the "seeds of courage" in me, as you say. ā¤ļø
beautiful