Aug 14, 2022·edited Aug 14, 2022Liked by Suleika Jaouad
thank you. I am kind of ashamed that I am going through something that doesn't involve the same thing Suleika is going through. I am a healthy (I hope) 72-year old. BUT I have been grieving the loss of my husband and father on the same day in 2020, and have been trying to establish my place in life without them. I've been doing all the "right" things, but still feel many moments of incredible sadness and despondency. The "slowing down" message resonated with me. I do it. Have done it. I put in a CD (yes, I'm that old) and just sit back a listen. I just look at my dogs snoozing together or my cats snuggling (animals help). But it would seem that I am still asking for permission to slow down. You don't need permission. Thank you Suleika and Rachel.
hello, so glad you are back and that you had some time to sweep out the cobwebs: it's 3:am here in Denver co and I took my 5 minutes as you said in fact more than 5 minutes, in fact, lately i've had a lot of 5 minutes, sitting on my porch looking at the trees: and here's what i found out about life. I spent way too much time and energy at the office and away from home. what's important is home and family, an oak table, food on it and people gathered around it, picnics in the back yard, a fire place in the winter, loved ones around me, a cozy home, someone to love and someone that loves me. Stay well and safe and you are loved Suleika.
And then I slowed down, the dark still heavy at 6:00 AM, and all the questions of what step to take next in life, invaded my mind with their chorus of "What will you do? What will you do?" (Like in some bad musical with the chorus dressed in clothing that showed that they have their life together, and I don't). A sweet, ethereal bubble travels into my heart recalling how happy I am to see your name, Suleika, in my Inbox, knowing that in my despair of unknowing, I am being included in a group also searching...all searching for different answers and outcomes, and that subtle sweetness reminds me that I will figure it out (chorus of singing sheath dressed corporate women is absolutely optional).
Darling Suleika - My heart danced when I saw your picture yesterday on IG. Pure joy to take in your words and thoughts on this Sunday morning. Your presence is felt!❤️
My 5 minutes of silence brought thoughts of visiting the MET and walking in Central Park and along the Port here in NJ. I’m soaking in our sweet girl, Smudge (black cat), and her comforting purrs as we snuggle in bed. I’m thinking about precious moments with our boy as they are fleeting… I’m grateful this morning for the sun rays gleaming through the window and for a slow start this morning.
You have been on my heart and mind the last few weeks. I am so glad you got the cobwebs swept away! I have spent lots of five minutes lately, sitting on my patio looking at the beautiful scenery around me. I live on the tiny island of Terceira, Açores. Not only is the scenery beautiful, but the people are the kindest I have ever known. Here, nothing is more important than being with friends and family, sharing meals, playing games together.
Stay well and thank you for sharing your strength.
Be slow. Be…. Slow. Slowly Be. Pause. Snooze button hit on the alarm clock next to the bed. Moment before the day begins. A cuddle. Feel the warmth of cotton sheets. A sweet sigh. Awareness of self comfortable and welcomed. A smile. Delicious satisfying moments effortless in your world slows and even savors before you merge with distractions that seem less important then a savory pause to slowly Be.
Hi friend! Happy to see you back! Sweet photo of you with River and with eyebrows. Beautiful! Cheering you on from here. Much love your way to gather strength and heal. The body is an amazing at healing. Faith and Will shaken in the mix. You can achieve anything in the face of… anything.
Love this prompt. Currently trying to accept the fact my cancer left me with a physical disability, I have been ignoring that and fighting that for 4 years and finally, after two weeks in bed unable to move from physical pain, I have had the lightbulb moment, I am disabled. Finally, after four years fighting it, I am now reflecting on what I still can do. What can I still do without my right arm. I can still use my words, I can write, thank you for dictation apps! I may not be able to hand write for more than 5 minutes a day, but somehow the computer doesn't hurt as much. So I am here, slowing down. The 100 day project helped me release my old life, the life prior to cancer I was trying to hold onto. It gave me the ability to reflect on what makes me happy now that I can still do, from home, in isolation but impacting others and what will be mentally stimulating enough to keep my interest. Amazing when you give yourself permission to slow down. Thank you.
My dog Zoey is working on her 14th trip around the Sun and she is slowing way down, in turn also slowing me down... she is ready to rest but I’m not. She is the last of a pack of four, the most recent passed just before the pandemic hit so to say Zoey saved my sanity through long walks and escapes into the park, the forest, the lake... would be an understatement. I saw your photo of River and went searching for a rescue. But I think I’ll learn to fly solo for a while; it’s been over 30 years since I did not have a dog(s) by my side with every step. I fear it will be excruciatingly lonely.
I need to know if a dog has been a crutch or a companion. Helluva a way to find out and I may find out I don’t want to know. Some things don’t need answers.
Dearest Suleika, it is so heartwarming to hear your magnificently brilliant, loving, voice today.
Even in your quieter moments of reflection, turning inward, taking a "break", your magical voice, your beautiful presence are always with me!!!! I, and I believe this entire community who loves you so dearly, and who have so many cherished hopes for you, always carry you with me, with us, as a part of myself, ourselves.
We’ve missed you, but glad you’ve taken your time to focus on yourself, and understand you may need to do it more often. Must admit I get concerned when you write about being alone with your beloved dog, and contacting a friend, but don’t mention Jon. I notice he steers away from mentioning you as well, so it must be a decision you made together. I apologize if I’m overstepping here, but you have given us so much, and we care so much about you, both as individuals and as a couple.
Realized my heart was happy to read your writing once again, because I love you and this community. Am up at 6am on a cool , August Sunday in NYC and so grateful to have another day! My window is open for the first time in a month, because of all the heat and a/c, and I feel the low drone of air conditioners on in our courtyard and grateful for hearing. Viewing the sun rise grateful for seeing. It’s all so magical to me at 6am on a lazy Sunday morning. No cobwebs to clean because I’m here all the time, but sometimes those cobwebs of old thought patterns need to be gently swept away. Right at this moment so happy to be alive!
Is there anything more difficult than allowing oneself the luxury of doing nothing except enjoying being in the moment?
I managed to turn off my timer when I checked to be SURE I wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes to observe myself and my surroundings. So what follows perhaps occurred to me over 10 minutes.
I am extremely lucky to live in West Seattle on the side of a gentle hill. It’s by no means isolated, there’s a McDonalds 4 blocks away currently wafting the aromas of a deep fat fryer (that mercifully was out of the range of sniffing distraction during my break) but I can see Puget Sound from here on my porch swing.
It’s an exceptionally quiet Sunday morning, no other folks out and only 2 or 3 cars passing. Yet I still find myself drawn to anxiety inducing ‘what ifs’ and ‘should I check that ping on my cellphone’ or ‘what SHOULD I be doing right now’. How can I learn to let that all go, even for just 5 minutes?
What does effectively bring me back to center every single time are the hummingbirds that visit year round. I love watching them suspended in the air in a fixed spot like tiny helicopters. I make up stories about them when 2 current visitors share a feeder, very unusual for these territorial, tiny flyers. I imagine they are having a wildly romantic love affair. And what I love best is when they clearly know I’m right here, a few feet away from them, but they trust me enough to show me their latest flying techniques and gorgeous wing colors.
I need to find a ‘hummingbird reset’ inside myself; something I can return to when I’m not under their feeders and I’m busy overwhelming myself with transient distractions I have plenty time to deal with later.
I don’t want to proofread this, I think it’s better and more true left as I first thought about it.
Thanks for the prompt and the time to reconsider where I am and how I’m living there.
thank you. I am kind of ashamed that I am going through something that doesn't involve the same thing Suleika is going through. I am a healthy (I hope) 72-year old. BUT I have been grieving the loss of my husband and father on the same day in 2020, and have been trying to establish my place in life without them. I've been doing all the "right" things, but still feel many moments of incredible sadness and despondency. The "slowing down" message resonated with me. I do it. Have done it. I put in a CD (yes, I'm that old) and just sit back a listen. I just look at my dogs snoozing together or my cats snuggling (animals help). But it would seem that I am still asking for permission to slow down. You don't need permission. Thank you Suleika and Rachel.
hello, so glad you are back and that you had some time to sweep out the cobwebs: it's 3:am here in Denver co and I took my 5 minutes as you said in fact more than 5 minutes, in fact, lately i've had a lot of 5 minutes, sitting on my porch looking at the trees: and here's what i found out about life. I spent way too much time and energy at the office and away from home. what's important is home and family, an oak table, food on it and people gathered around it, picnics in the back yard, a fire place in the winter, loved ones around me, a cozy home, someone to love and someone that loves me. Stay well and safe and you are loved Suleika.
And then I slowed down, the dark still heavy at 6:00 AM, and all the questions of what step to take next in life, invaded my mind with their chorus of "What will you do? What will you do?" (Like in some bad musical with the chorus dressed in clothing that showed that they have their life together, and I don't). A sweet, ethereal bubble travels into my heart recalling how happy I am to see your name, Suleika, in my Inbox, knowing that in my despair of unknowing, I am being included in a group also searching...all searching for different answers and outcomes, and that subtle sweetness reminds me that I will figure it out (chorus of singing sheath dressed corporate women is absolutely optional).
Missed you so much. Very happy to read your words again.
Darling Suleika - My heart danced when I saw your picture yesterday on IG. Pure joy to take in your words and thoughts on this Sunday morning. Your presence is felt!❤️
My 5 minutes of silence brought thoughts of visiting the MET and walking in Central Park and along the Port here in NJ. I’m soaking in our sweet girl, Smudge (black cat), and her comforting purrs as we snuggle in bed. I’m thinking about precious moments with our boy as they are fleeting… I’m grateful this morning for the sun rays gleaming through the window and for a slow start this morning.
You have been on my heart and mind the last few weeks. I am so glad you got the cobwebs swept away! I have spent lots of five minutes lately, sitting on my patio looking at the beautiful scenery around me. I live on the tiny island of Terceira, Açores. Not only is the scenery beautiful, but the people are the kindest I have ever known. Here, nothing is more important than being with friends and family, sharing meals, playing games together.
Stay well and thank you for sharing your strength.
So, so glad to get an update on how you are, Suleika! And I’m very grateful for any and all way to be connected to this lovely community.
Nice piece of writing. Thank you for posting it. Can relate so much on the constant thoughts. I hope you continue to recover.
Be slow. Be…. Slow. Slowly Be. Pause. Snooze button hit on the alarm clock next to the bed. Moment before the day begins. A cuddle. Feel the warmth of cotton sheets. A sweet sigh. Awareness of self comfortable and welcomed. A smile. Delicious satisfying moments effortless in your world slows and even savors before you merge with distractions that seem less important then a savory pause to slowly Be.
Hi friend! Happy to see you back! Sweet photo of you with River and with eyebrows. Beautiful! Cheering you on from here. Much love your way to gather strength and heal. The body is an amazing at healing. Faith and Will shaken in the mix. You can achieve anything in the face of… anything.
Love this prompt. Currently trying to accept the fact my cancer left me with a physical disability, I have been ignoring that and fighting that for 4 years and finally, after two weeks in bed unable to move from physical pain, I have had the lightbulb moment, I am disabled. Finally, after four years fighting it, I am now reflecting on what I still can do. What can I still do without my right arm. I can still use my words, I can write, thank you for dictation apps! I may not be able to hand write for more than 5 minutes a day, but somehow the computer doesn't hurt as much. So I am here, slowing down. The 100 day project helped me release my old life, the life prior to cancer I was trying to hold onto. It gave me the ability to reflect on what makes me happy now that I can still do, from home, in isolation but impacting others and what will be mentally stimulating enough to keep my interest. Amazing when you give yourself permission to slow down. Thank you.
My dog Zoey is working on her 14th trip around the Sun and she is slowing way down, in turn also slowing me down... she is ready to rest but I’m not. She is the last of a pack of four, the most recent passed just before the pandemic hit so to say Zoey saved my sanity through long walks and escapes into the park, the forest, the lake... would be an understatement. I saw your photo of River and went searching for a rescue. But I think I’ll learn to fly solo for a while; it’s been over 30 years since I did not have a dog(s) by my side with every step. I fear it will be excruciatingly lonely.
I need to know if a dog has been a crutch or a companion. Helluva a way to find out and I may find out I don’t want to know. Some things don’t need answers.
Dearest Suleika, it is so heartwarming to hear your magnificently brilliant, loving, voice today.
Even in your quieter moments of reflection, turning inward, taking a "break", your magical voice, your beautiful presence are always with me!!!! I, and I believe this entire community who loves you so dearly, and who have so many cherished hopes for you, always carry you with me, with us, as a part of myself, ourselves.
Sending you so very very very much love!!!!!
We’ve missed you, but glad you’ve taken your time to focus on yourself, and understand you may need to do it more often. Must admit I get concerned when you write about being alone with your beloved dog, and contacting a friend, but don’t mention Jon. I notice he steers away from mentioning you as well, so it must be a decision you made together. I apologize if I’m overstepping here, but you have given us so much, and we care so much about you, both as individuals and as a couple.
Realized my heart was happy to read your writing once again, because I love you and this community. Am up at 6am on a cool , August Sunday in NYC and so grateful to have another day! My window is open for the first time in a month, because of all the heat and a/c, and I feel the low drone of air conditioners on in our courtyard and grateful for hearing. Viewing the sun rise grateful for seeing. It’s all so magical to me at 6am on a lazy Sunday morning. No cobwebs to clean because I’m here all the time, but sometimes those cobwebs of old thought patterns need to be gently swept away. Right at this moment so happy to be alive!
Is there anything more difficult than allowing oneself the luxury of doing nothing except enjoying being in the moment?
I managed to turn off my timer when I checked to be SURE I wouldn’t take more than 5 minutes to observe myself and my surroundings. So what follows perhaps occurred to me over 10 minutes.
I am extremely lucky to live in West Seattle on the side of a gentle hill. It’s by no means isolated, there’s a McDonalds 4 blocks away currently wafting the aromas of a deep fat fryer (that mercifully was out of the range of sniffing distraction during my break) but I can see Puget Sound from here on my porch swing.
It’s an exceptionally quiet Sunday morning, no other folks out and only 2 or 3 cars passing. Yet I still find myself drawn to anxiety inducing ‘what ifs’ and ‘should I check that ping on my cellphone’ or ‘what SHOULD I be doing right now’. How can I learn to let that all go, even for just 5 minutes?
What does effectively bring me back to center every single time are the hummingbirds that visit year round. I love watching them suspended in the air in a fixed spot like tiny helicopters. I make up stories about them when 2 current visitors share a feeder, very unusual for these territorial, tiny flyers. I imagine they are having a wildly romantic love affair. And what I love best is when they clearly know I’m right here, a few feet away from them, but they trust me enough to show me their latest flying techniques and gorgeous wing colors.
I need to find a ‘hummingbird reset’ inside myself; something I can return to when I’m not under their feeders and I’m busy overwhelming myself with transient distractions I have plenty time to deal with later.
I don’t want to proofread this, I think it’s better and more true left as I first thought about it.
Thanks for the prompt and the time to reconsider where I am and how I’m living there.