My focus is on you, Suleika. I don’t know your daily ups and downs, the things that you don’t share, but I see you reaching out beyond your own circumstances to encourage us to live more fully.
I try and stay close to the people who feel like sunshine, and you shine so brightly.
Break, and then dust your pieces off and marvel at who you are after (because the pieces will not be in the same places they were pre-break)
Cry in the shower
Love the young person you were-gaze on photos of yourself you used to find repulsive and ask that girl for forgiveness-love her with all your might, because she is you.
Speak aloud your whimsy (I believe that a small piece of light lives in me, keeps glowing even when all feels lost)
Buy skin products because it's so fun to feel the luxuriousness of the balm, embody the scent, marvel at the packaging as art
Straighten a pile of stuff, but don't sort yet-you're not ready to let things go, that's okay
Wear your softest jeans...so there's a hole in the ass...who cares?
Listen to the music you loved and lived for...it's still everything!
Remember your list, and when you are at your weakest, recall that you have strength that sometimes comes as tears, sometimes as laughter, sometimes as fighting spirit, sometimes as a good nap.
(As a side note, Suleika, you are my hero, You are a companion bringing me back to life. Thank you.)
Well, I had some time to get right into this prompt today, and whew! What came out reminds me to call my therapist. Thank you for the prompt--I’ll likely continue to work on this.
And sending love and prayers. My brother is 75ish days post transplant, and you remind me that he still has such battles ahead.
~ How to be perfect ~
Buy a very large rug and stiff-bristled broom.
Dress for your shape.
Don’t laugh too loud.
Step on the scale every morning.
Don’t pluck your beautiful, Brooke Shields eyebrows.
Be gracious always.
Find out if your skin tone is a Winter, Spring, Fall, or Summer so you can color yourself beautiful.
Do not, under any circumstances, wear mustard if you are a Summer.
Buy a good girdle.
Don’t get rid of anything anyone gave you. If they gave it to you, it has eternal value.
Don’t get pregnant out of wedlock.
If you’re having fun, you are likely sinning.
If your husband is cheating on you, ask yourself if you’ve done everything you can do to be a good wife.
Make your own list of “how to be perfect.” Include things you’ve done—or seen others do—to guard against the unpredictability of life. Allow space for everything: for whimsy, for absurdity, for fear and hope and joy, and especially for imperfection.
I am not perfect.
I never will be perfect.
I do not want to be perfect.
I like rough approximations, fuzzy boundaries, and blurred edges, because
Therein lies hope. That feeble inspiring voice that says,
Perfection could happen, but don’t count on it.
And if it did, things might be really boring.
But you know what?
We are already perfect. We are remembering that slowly.
The struggle is not out there, it’s within us. A simple shift in perspective.
Postscript:
Thanks, Suleika, for your concise, beautiful words. Sending love back.
I had to follow this up with something interesting that lends support to the idea of a shift in perspective. Suzanne Geisemann, author, former Navy Commander, medium, spiritual teacher, sends out a daily message. Today's message just came out and is expressed beautifully. Take a look if you wish:
Do not hurry:: Do not worry:: Do not Resent:::Do not Condemn::: Do not push:: Do not shove:: Suleika ,i hope you are feeling better and thank you for caring for other people while sometimes you barely have the strength to care for yourself
Well, I’m working on being perfect. It’s a process.
(Your chemo took me back ten years ago to a constant string of IVIG sessions. Just briefly. But still... whooooo.... two of my angels have died, the third is getting old. Time is coming to break out...)
In these last few years I’ve taken to reading through to the end only the writing which moves me beyond making perfect sense, wearing my granny’s cameo on the collar of my everyday flannel shirt when I walk the dog, and kissing my love on the back of the neck as I pass by him during the day. I call that perfect. Along with laughing at absurdity. Your paintings are perfectly imperfect. As with all hand made things, truly gorgeous the way your art provides a way in to your unique vision. That is what moves me and reminds me to live my best life each and every precious day. Thank you for for the reminder. And your words however brief. They matter.
Due to television and radio station censorship, in 1966 Boyce and Hart wrote "Last Train to Clarksville" as a covert anti-war song. Its vagueness disguises that it is about a draftee on his way to report for deployment to Vietnam.
Hi Ariel. I knew that the song had a relationship to the war, though I did not know the backstory. I also understood that the phrase “last train to Clarksville“ implicated, or rather suggested that the person was not going to anywhere good. And that is why I came to me in though little blurb that I wrote. In any case, thanks for your comment. Sandra
Suleika - thank you for writing in the midst... May you feel our love for you on the journey.❤️
Thank you, Ron, for reminding us that perfectionism robs us of our humanity.
I struggle with perfectionism, and the implications are tearing at my flesh.
My response for today: I surrender!
I'll circle back around when the words come to me. Thank you, IJs. Thank you for taking us to the places we don't want to go, but here we are, and we are all the better for it!
Thank you for such a thoughtful and whimsical poem. You're writings are so beautiful and meaningful. I am glad that River has been able to be at your side and be a great source of comfort for you. I pray and hope that your chemotherapy is going well.
Yesterday, my 22 old daughter and I were driving into town as we live out in the country in South Louisiana below Baton Rouge and we found our own stray pup. Unfortunately, somebody had thrown him out. He was very malnourished. But we stopped and picked him up. Of course she named him Oliver right off the bat. Much to my husband's, Savannah's Dad we brought him home and fed him and took care of him. We didn't want to call animal control because we didn't think he might have a good fate If we went that route. So we're trying to adopt him to some friends of hers in Lafayette as she goes to the University of Louisiana in Lafayette. I'm proud to say she is in her last semester of her senior year and will be graduating in December as a nurse. And will soon begin working as a registered nurse and January in an ICU in a hospital in Lafayette, Louisiana. She's always nursing animals and critters back to health! Hence the cats that I have inherited and she already has two rescue dogs, Louise and Turbo. Oliver is a pale caramel color. Looks like a full pit bull, long skinny legs and long thin tail and a big head and a severe underbite. He has the most expressive eyes and he's very gentle and affectionate. Probably under a year or so of age but he's not a puppy. We have a perspective couple that want to look at him and will be meeting them this afternoon so hopefully he will find his forever home! That is our goal for today.
Take good care, my friend. You're in my thoughts and prayers.
Heavenly Father, giver of life and health: Comfort and relieve your sick servant, and give your power of healing to those who minister to her needs, that she may be strengthened in her illness and have confidence in your loving care; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 🙏🙏💗🌞🕊️✌️
As I harvest root crops from my garden - white potatoes, red potatoes, orange carrots, purple beets, green kolrabis and creamy coloured parsnips - I marvel at the perfect imperfection of Nature and how, no matter whether their bodies have twisted around one another or scab has spotted their tough skins, they will provide nourishment for my body, mind and spirit all Winter. Sometimes our imperfections house a goodness and energy that we cannot readily see or comprehend at first sight or first feeling. Sending love and ease to all my fellow Isolation Journalers as we ache, laugh and wonder at life’s precious complexities - together.
Much love to Suleika and Nurse River from the chilly wilds of British Columbia. 💕
i started a garden this year, just a few things. my favorite: potatoes! i was so proud of those funny little guys when we finally dug them up & i got to see what they had been making themselves into all that time. 🥔🥔🥔 thank you for your words.
That poem will become my anthem.
My focus is on you, Suleika. I don’t know your daily ups and downs, the things that you don’t share, but I see you reaching out beyond your own circumstances to encourage us to live more fully.
I try and stay close to the people who feel like sunshine, and you shine so brightly.
I’m grateful for you. ♥️
Break, and then dust your pieces off and marvel at who you are after (because the pieces will not be in the same places they were pre-break)
Cry in the shower
Love the young person you were-gaze on photos of yourself you used to find repulsive and ask that girl for forgiveness-love her with all your might, because she is you.
Speak aloud your whimsy (I believe that a small piece of light lives in me, keeps glowing even when all feels lost)
Buy skin products because it's so fun to feel the luxuriousness of the balm, embody the scent, marvel at the packaging as art
Straighten a pile of stuff, but don't sort yet-you're not ready to let things go, that's okay
Wear your softest jeans...so there's a hole in the ass...who cares?
Listen to the music you loved and lived for...it's still everything!
Remember your list, and when you are at your weakest, recall that you have strength that sometimes comes as tears, sometimes as laughter, sometimes as fighting spirit, sometimes as a good nap.
(As a side note, Suleika, you are my hero, You are a companion bringing me back to life. Thank you.)
You are loved, Suleika. ❤️ 🙏
Ram Dass wrote: "we're all just walking each other home." I live by this.
Your open and honest writing shines brightly for us, Suleika. And I think we do the same for you.
Walking each other home. ❤️
With gratitude, Linda
Growing up, my best friend's father never let me walk home alone at night. Such a simple act of love.
I love that whenever I read it again. "we are all just walking each other home" tremendous words of comfort and the meaning of life
I agree wholeheartedly, Gail!
Well, I had some time to get right into this prompt today, and whew! What came out reminds me to call my therapist. Thank you for the prompt--I’ll likely continue to work on this.
And sending love and prayers. My brother is 75ish days post transplant, and you remind me that he still has such battles ahead.
~ How to be perfect ~
Buy a very large rug and stiff-bristled broom.
Dress for your shape.
Don’t laugh too loud.
Step on the scale every morning.
Don’t pluck your beautiful, Brooke Shields eyebrows.
Be gracious always.
Find out if your skin tone is a Winter, Spring, Fall, or Summer so you can color yourself beautiful.
Do not, under any circumstances, wear mustard if you are a Summer.
Buy a good girdle.
Don’t get rid of anything anyone gave you. If they gave it to you, it has eternal value.
Don’t get pregnant out of wedlock.
If you’re having fun, you are likely sinning.
If your husband is cheating on you, ask yourself if you’ve done everything you can do to be a good wife.
Don’t buy trashy underwear.
Don’t be a daddy’s girl.
Don’t be too independent.
Don’t be too much.
Uh-oh,,I laugh really loudly, got pregnant out of wedlock, left my cheating husband ...and Holly, I think you're fabulous!
I *knew* you were fellow rule breaker, Mary!
What a milestone! Congratulations! I was his stem cell donor, so I am on extra pins and needles for his 90-day biopsy.
Prompt 212 – How To Be Perfect
Make your own list of “how to be perfect.” Include things you’ve done—or seen others do—to guard against the unpredictability of life. Allow space for everything: for whimsy, for absurdity, for fear and hope and joy, and especially for imperfection.
I am not perfect.
I never will be perfect.
I do not want to be perfect.
I like rough approximations, fuzzy boundaries, and blurred edges, because
Therein lies hope. That feeble inspiring voice that says,
Perfection could happen, but don’t count on it.
And if it did, things might be really boring.
But you know what?
We are already perfect. We are remembering that slowly.
The struggle is not out there, it’s within us. A simple shift in perspective.
Postscript:
Thanks, Suleika, for your concise, beautiful words. Sending love back.
I had to follow this up with something interesting that lends support to the idea of a shift in perspective. Suzanne Geisemann, author, former Navy Commander, medium, spiritual teacher, sends out a daily message. Today's message just came out and is expressed beautifully. Take a look if you wish:
https://emails.suzannegiesemann.com/f3u5i1b0g7/2057459576424371607/b1y7/
Do not hurry:: Do not worry:: Do not Resent:::Do not Condemn::: Do not push:: Do not shove:: Suleika ,i hope you are feeling better and thank you for caring for other people while sometimes you barely have the strength to care for yourself
Take a deep breath
Walk more slowly'
Accept what seems un-acceptable
remember jumping rope
Bob Marley lives
I planted Mary's tree
Say no sometimes
Tell parents not to write their progeny's college essay's
Surprise, surprise...
Don’t comment on perfect posts.
Crap.
Well, I’m working on being perfect. It’s a process.
(Your chemo took me back ten years ago to a constant string of IVIG sessions. Just briefly. But still... whooooo.... two of my angels have died, the third is getting old. Time is coming to break out...)
In these last few years I’ve taken to reading through to the end only the writing which moves me beyond making perfect sense, wearing my granny’s cameo on the collar of my everyday flannel shirt when I walk the dog, and kissing my love on the back of the neck as I pass by him during the day. I call that perfect. Along with laughing at absurdity. Your paintings are perfectly imperfect. As with all hand made things, truly gorgeous the way your art provides a way in to your unique vision. That is what moves me and reminds me to live my best life each and every precious day. Thank you for for the reminder. And your words however brief. They matter.
Perfection
Never spill on your clothes
Change your calendar every day and cross off the days as they pass.
Pay your bills before they are due.
Eat a banana every day.
Remove all unnecessary emails from your in-box.
Never be angry, grumpy or impatient.
Call your mother every day to check on her.
Always be polite.
Put your clothes away after you have worn them.
Punctuality no matter what.
Not a hair out of place.
Paste a smile on your face no matter what.
Be kind to others whether they deserve it or not.
Never look tired. Makeup must look like it was just applied.
To sleep per chance to dream
Loving me, loving you
You/I am enough
Really rest & Be here now
Too many people that I know waiting to take the last train to Clarksville - and I am fine to get left at the station
A cup of sublimely good coffee and a fresh made buiscuit awaits
That is all she wrote
Absurdly and lovingly yours, Sandra
Due to television and radio station censorship, in 1966 Boyce and Hart wrote "Last Train to Clarksville" as a covert anti-war song. Its vagueness disguises that it is about a draftee on his way to report for deployment to Vietnam.
Hi Ariel. I knew that the song had a relationship to the war, though I did not know the backstory. I also understood that the phrase “last train to Clarksville“ implicated, or rather suggested that the person was not going to anywhere good. And that is why I came to me in though little blurb that I wrote. In any case, thanks for your comment. Sandra
Suleika - thank you for writing in the midst... May you feel our love for you on the journey.❤️
Thank you, Ron, for reminding us that perfectionism robs us of our humanity.
I struggle with perfectionism, and the implications are tearing at my flesh.
My response for today: I surrender!
I'll circle back around when the words come to me. Thank you, IJs. Thank you for taking us to the places we don't want to go, but here we are, and we are all the better for it!
Hello Suleika,
Thank you for such a thoughtful and whimsical poem. You're writings are so beautiful and meaningful. I am glad that River has been able to be at your side and be a great source of comfort for you. I pray and hope that your chemotherapy is going well.
Yesterday, my 22 old daughter and I were driving into town as we live out in the country in South Louisiana below Baton Rouge and we found our own stray pup. Unfortunately, somebody had thrown him out. He was very malnourished. But we stopped and picked him up. Of course she named him Oliver right off the bat. Much to my husband's, Savannah's Dad we brought him home and fed him and took care of him. We didn't want to call animal control because we didn't think he might have a good fate If we went that route. So we're trying to adopt him to some friends of hers in Lafayette as she goes to the University of Louisiana in Lafayette. I'm proud to say she is in her last semester of her senior year and will be graduating in December as a nurse. And will soon begin working as a registered nurse and January in an ICU in a hospital in Lafayette, Louisiana. She's always nursing animals and critters back to health! Hence the cats that I have inherited and she already has two rescue dogs, Louise and Turbo. Oliver is a pale caramel color. Looks like a full pit bull, long skinny legs and long thin tail and a big head and a severe underbite. He has the most expressive eyes and he's very gentle and affectionate. Probably under a year or so of age but he's not a puppy. We have a perspective couple that want to look at him and will be meeting them this afternoon so hopefully he will find his forever home! That is our goal for today.
Take good care, my friend. You're in my thoughts and prayers.
Heavenly Father, giver of life and health: Comfort and relieve your sick servant, and give your power of healing to those who minister to her needs, that she may be strengthened in her illness and have confidence in your loving care; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 🙏🙏💗🌞🕊️✌️
Molly Phillips
Sunshine, Louisiana
Hello, Molly, from Holly--I’m just north of Baton Rouge.☺️
Hi! Know of anyone that wants a cute dog in need of a loving home? Thx!
Hi! Know of anyone that wants a cute dog in need of a loving home? Thx!
Leonard Cohen says: "There is a crack..a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." Sending you love and light....
Have you read: https://a.co/d/0ZL4PxE Matters of Vital Interest: A Forty-Year Friendship with Leonard Cohen
Matters of Vital Interest: A Forty-Year Friendship with Leonard Cohen
How to be Perfect:
Accept the beauty of imperfection, my fellow human. Be kind to yourself & spread kindness around like a dandelion puff!
As I harvest root crops from my garden - white potatoes, red potatoes, orange carrots, purple beets, green kolrabis and creamy coloured parsnips - I marvel at the perfect imperfection of Nature and how, no matter whether their bodies have twisted around one another or scab has spotted their tough skins, they will provide nourishment for my body, mind and spirit all Winter. Sometimes our imperfections house a goodness and energy that we cannot readily see or comprehend at first sight or first feeling. Sending love and ease to all my fellow Isolation Journalers as we ache, laugh and wonder at life’s precious complexities - together.
Much love to Suleika and Nurse River from the chilly wilds of British Columbia. 💕
i started a garden this year, just a few things. my favorite: potatoes! i was so proud of those funny little guys when we finally dug them up & i got to see what they had been making themselves into all that time. 🥔🥔🥔 thank you for your words.
Yes. Growing one’s own food is so satisfying. Enjoy.