It’s not long until my bedtime, so I hope you don’t mind if I write to you in the folds between tasks, with a once-hot cup of tea, now just patient, & laundry I’ve promised the sun I’ll fold tomorrow.
Reading you both felt like someone gently moved the pile on the chair beside me & said, here, sit. There is something oddly comforting about other people’s chaos—how it gives me permission to stop pretending I don’t have my own. Your rooms were full, yes, but so were your instincts. Suleika, you called your mother. Barbara, you listened to your father’s underlining. You both reached into the noise & found a note that still rang true.
I’ve always thought I was the kind of person who could live with less. Less stuff. Less noise. Less need. But apparently I’ve just been very good at stacking things neatly enough to pass. Until, of course, they topple.
So tonight, if I were to let go of anything, it wouldn’t be the objects—I can live with those. It would be the quiet war I’m waging with myself about how it should all look. I’d let go of the shame in the pile, the guilt in the delay, the strange belief that I have to be cleared out before I can be kind to myself.
And what I’d gain? Maybe just the ability to lie down without an argument. To be held, not by order, but by the knowing that this too, this beautiful, burdensome, unfinished middle—is part of it.
Thank you both for these love letters to the mess.
Kim, you are a fellow "stacker." And today, as in so many other Sundays, your words )along with Suleika's and this week, Barbara) sang in my key, The "unfinished middle" is my life landing spot. Thank you.
Mary, what a beautiful phrase—sang in my key. I think that’s the hope, isn’t it? That somewhere in the clutter of our own corners, we catch a note that feels like home. I’m so glad these words reached you there. From one stacker to another, thank you for reading from the middle.
Mary, thank you—that means more than you know. I’ve always loved the idea that certain words carry a kind of frequency, & if you’re lucky, someone out there will hear them and hum along. I’m so glad we found the same note.
If ever you feel like settling into more reflections, there’s always a spare chair ready for you at Often, & Otherwise. x
Mary, yes—let’s. I’ll clear a little more space, & you can tuck the mint into the pot. We’ll let it steep while the world spins on without us. No rush, no order. Just tea, stories, & a little rosewater shortbread I forgot I had. Soft, with the faintest hint of cardamom.
Julie, thank you. Isn’t it wild how quickly the piles start speaking in that scolding tone? I know it too well. I’m learning—slowly—that kindness quiets the mess far better than shame ever could. I’m so glad my words reached you in the middle of it all.
Harriet, thank you. That quiet war is exhausting, isn’t it? I’m glad the words found you—I think sometimes just naming it helps us loosen our grip a little. I’m so grateful they landed gently with you.
I love your response. It has essentially followed me to bed tonight, helping me to be grateful to still be surrounded by my "stuff" while living my messier than usual life. I am realizing the true blessing of the messiness of my life is, at 78 years old I am still here doing what I love most, which is sharing and helping my family and friends journey through life together.
Lorette, what a beautiful note to receive. I’m so moved by the way you framed it—the blessing not despite the mess, but within it. At 78, still surrounded by life, by purpose, by love—that’s the kind of abundance we rarely name but always feel. Thank you for carrying this reflection to bed with you. I imagine your “stuff” isn’t clutter—it’s proof. Of presence. Of care. Of a life still being lived.
This post spoke to me, though that’s what I think every week. This one in particular, though, as I bit by bit rid my house of stuff accumulated over the 27 years we’ve lived here. We aren’t yet selling or moving but are preparing to in the next couple of years. Still, my response to today’s prompt is metaphorical. The three things I would let go of today, if I could, are anxiety over things I can’t control, comparisons that lead to feelings of envy or inadequacy, and self-imposed guilt over myriad tiny things. Everything else is just stuff.
This exquisite domestic moment that becomes metaphysical without ever raising its voice…. You’ve turned a day of boxes and dust into a pilgrimage through memory, meaning, and maternal love. It made me think of something Milan Kundera once wrote: “We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold.” Except here, your mother handed you a script, not one for performance, but for presence. “Close the eyes. Hum. Dance.” A choreography of release, tucked between expired passports and medical records, as if to say: even the body’s archive needs a soundtrack.
Your reflection also reminded me of an unlikely parallel — quantum physics. Specifically, the concept of “coherent superposition”, where multiple realities can coexist until observed, forcing a collapse into one form. That’s what this kind of cleaning is, isn’t it? A quantum ritual. Each object in a box is a memory not yet collapsed, grief and joy, loss and art, chaos and clarity, all coiled together. It’s only when you touch it, choose to keep or let go, that the story stabilises into something you can carry or finally release.
And yes, the list at the end may look like a joke at first glance, but it’s the most serious form of wisdom. A mother’s poem masquerading as a task list. You’ve given us a beautiful reminder that sometimes, the most drastic simplification isn’t decluttering our space, but expanding the kinds of things we allow ourselves to count as important.
So here’s to more to-do lists that start with closing your eyes. And to dancing for five minutes, even if you’re covered in dust!
Thank you Tamara....in my own effort to slow down, if I try to view my perceived tasks through the lens of quantum physics, it just might help me redefine what I truly need.
This post, while simple, brought up many feelings for me. It took me back to September of this past year. I had recently moved to a new state (for the first time) to start over after my relationship/engagement came crashing down. A new chapter I desperately needed after saying goodbye to the life and family I once knew.
I unpacked boxes I haven’t seen in years when I stumbled across a letter my dad wrote the Christmas before he died. I’m not sure why it was never opened or if I even knew the letter existed (it’s been 18years). It was a reminder that he is always with me, even on this new journey.
It now sits on my fridge among other important things, such as pictures of my late cat, Shadow, and artwork from my friend’s kids.
If I could let go of 3 things it would be the heartbreak, the shame, and the self-hate that burrowed its way into my heart. I want to challenge my heart to forgive and to love louder despite the crack in the middle. For too long I’ve been carrying a sinking sadness, unable to let go, but I need to make space for what is coming.
Swedish death cleaning has been a recurring activity for me since my cancer diagnosis in 2018. During this period of time my father died , so my brother , not to burden me ,hired an enormous staff to clear out , and get our childhood home on the market. The house sold quickly, but inevitably was remodeled. Memories destroyed by the house’s new owner. My brother had large plastic containers brought over to my house filled with photos and dishes . They are still sitting in my garage. My basement , has been an on going project, my husband and I are making progress. Recently, my brother unexpectedly died. His death has made clearing out our home essential and immediate. This life is exquisitely impermanent.
I am so sorry for your losses. May clearing out the various spaces in your life make room for love to accompany the sadness and sun to offset any darkness, that would inhabit your space. Best wishes for good health.
Oh Suleika! What an honor it is to be a contributor to your magical book. I wish you and every reader the spaciousness of heart that comes with simplicity 🌸
Your post really resonates with me David. I too have this belief that my only value would accrue if I wrote a world-changing novel, that I need to make myself better before I will be worthy, and my family too has generations of lack of self-worth. And I think there are more people like this than just you and me! ;-) I take solace from Elizabeth Gilbert - and Suleika too - that just about *everyone* worries that they're not worthy, or loveable, or deserving of good things... So, just keep being you - because you're the only "you" there is, and the world is a better place because of that. :-)
Thanks Bonnie for mentioning Elizabeth Gilbert. I know how much Suleika adores her too! I just listened to Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Big Magic” on audible yesterday as I drove from SF to LA and I would encourage everyone to read her book or listen to her soothing, wise voice read her book. She talks about self worth and value of oneself. It is full of encouragement, inspiration, and feeling comfort with creativity. Her “pep talks” about life and creativity are exceptional and exciting! Suleikas “ Book of Alchemy” is also a fantastic collection of beautiful personal stories and journeys! Her caring words always feel like a warm affectionate touch and sweet squeeze! I’m so appreciative of Suleikas inspiration to journal and create new paths of growth and enlightenment through these prompts and threads. This community and all the warm, genuine comments are invaluable! I hope that you, Bonnie and David and many others find personal happiness, peace, growth, and connections as I have. You ARE worthy and important! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and journey! We see you!
Today I completed Day 40 of journaling along with The Book of Alchemy and I cannot express enough how much more I am enjoying those first moments in the morning. Instead of reaching for my laptop...I sit quietly and then open my book. My leather-bound journal waits quietly in my lap as I read the day's essay and prompt. Then I pick up my pen. It would take some sort of emergency to cause me to skip a day. It's a favorite thing and I'm so thankful you put this out into the world.
Wow! Just woke up. Bedtime seems far away, but would love to let go of anxiety, worrying about finances & my fear of death. That’s enough for me! Sending my love & blessings to this beautiful community. And I’ll end with “you can’t always get what you want, but hopefully you get what you need.”
Like several writers here, I have recently declutterred or gone down and through that rabbithole of sorting out my storage, and so I’m trying to think past the initial impulse of the prompt (my slow cooker I only used once this winter?). I am, however, going through a deep decluttering of my professional self and my identity in the world as I grapple with a job search in the wake of leaving a federal position I had spent about a year securing, but couldn’t hold to in the age of DOGE. After about six weeks of taking-a-breath, I am encountering so many temptations to run off course from the center I finally reached as I ease back into the career space. Something that comes up for me is that I want to remain whole, I want to hold the wholeness that I feel I’ve so recently achieved. This comes up because it seems, now, that working in the spaces I’ve been in or where I am expected requires masks and partitioned identities. This clutter gets heavy, and lately I’ve wondered, “for what?”
So, to simplify, I would let go of three things today:
1. My trench and fancy long coats: their fit and warmth were never quite right for me, and I’d like to use the space for the right coat.
2. My years-old collection of business cards: I want to work among and for the people in my community rather than the online world so prominent in my industry. And anyways, we have LinkedIn.
3. My mirroring skill: adapting to the personality environment I’m in is an almost subconscious talent I have, a survival skill really, and a hallmark of my younger years when I wanted to try, taste, see everything from all the perspectives. Now, I think it’s ok to bring just my own personality to the table. And I might be less tired, not carrying so many others around.
Brilliant. The whole post, but especially, “ now I think it’s OK to bring just my own personality to the table. And I might be less tired, not carrying so many others around.” Simple and profound at the same time. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you and thanks to all for these comments and encouragements. I hope I can hold to my goals as I pursue The Next Thing! It’s a wild, but still beautiful, world, if you can hold it to the right light. This venue is one of those right light-giving spaces :)
Perfect timing to read this piece. I have 6 month old twins - much longed for and lovingly turning my world inside out. I feel so overwhelmed with the piles of stuff that get sent our way and the outgrown clothes that I need to pass on... the laundry that is never-ending and the constant folding and refolding of blankets and muslins. I'm going to keep taking moments to soak up the sticky hands and faces of my little guys and relish in the moments of quiet in between the hectic activity of day and night. I just started reading 'Meditation for Mortals' and it helps to make some sort of peace with chaos rather than trying to overcome it. Here's to a more simplified life.
If anyone should let the chaos be, it’s you, Avni. Send Martha Stewart packing. And if possible, get someone in to handle all things laundry. Plenty of students on summer break who could do this task.
Avni, look around your neighborhood for young people (elementary-middle school ages) who could become your mother's helpers. My daughter had this experience as a 10-12 year old, and learned so much that came in handy in her teaching career and then when she had her own twins, 14 years ago this month.
So timely, I am dealing with this very issue so thanks for the post. I’m trying to tackle one area at a time, the journal area and assorted stuff I’ve kept (mementos from people, travels, adventures) are hard to part with. I don’t want to leave my kids in a similar situation and as I am nearing 73, I’m thinking more about the inevitable. I love your mother’s note and will print out her list as a reminder that I definitely need. Thanks for these journals!
This was spot-on today. I went to bed SO MAD because I wasn’t able to finish the home project I started mid-day yesterday and which was completely overwhelming and an unreasonable amount of work for one day.
This morning in my journal I wrote down my pattern:
start huge project > run out of time > frustration > anger > blame others > resentment! > sadness/despair > acceptance
I’m reminded what the Big Book of AA says about acceptance being the answer to all my problems today. It doesn’t mean I like them, it just means, as Ani Pema says, that resistance to what is is the cause of suffering.
I needed this reminder today.
Peace be with you, Suleika. I’m on Day 26 of my journal and your book. 💕
Dear Suleika, dear Barbara,
It’s not long until my bedtime, so I hope you don’t mind if I write to you in the folds between tasks, with a once-hot cup of tea, now just patient, & laundry I’ve promised the sun I’ll fold tomorrow.
Reading you both felt like someone gently moved the pile on the chair beside me & said, here, sit. There is something oddly comforting about other people’s chaos—how it gives me permission to stop pretending I don’t have my own. Your rooms were full, yes, but so were your instincts. Suleika, you called your mother. Barbara, you listened to your father’s underlining. You both reached into the noise & found a note that still rang true.
I’ve always thought I was the kind of person who could live with less. Less stuff. Less noise. Less need. But apparently I’ve just been very good at stacking things neatly enough to pass. Until, of course, they topple.
So tonight, if I were to let go of anything, it wouldn’t be the objects—I can live with those. It would be the quiet war I’m waging with myself about how it should all look. I’d let go of the shame in the pile, the guilt in the delay, the strange belief that I have to be cleared out before I can be kind to myself.
And what I’d gain? Maybe just the ability to lie down without an argument. To be held, not by order, but by the knowing that this too, this beautiful, burdensome, unfinished middle—is part of it.
Thank you both for these love letters to the mess.
Kim x
❤️❤️
Just tucked those two hearts into my pocket. Thank you, Suleika.
Kim, you are a fellow "stacker." And today, as in so many other Sundays, your words )along with Suleika's and this week, Barbara) sang in my key, The "unfinished middle" is my life landing spot. Thank you.
Mary, what a beautiful phrase—sang in my key. I think that’s the hope, isn’t it? That somewhere in the clutter of our own corners, we catch a note that feels like home. I’m so glad these words reached you there. From one stacker to another, thank you for reading from the middle.
Yes! "We catch a note that feels like home." Kim, your writing enchants me.
Mary, thank you—that means more than you know. I’ve always loved the idea that certain words carry a kind of frequency, & if you’re lucky, someone out there will hear them and hum along. I’m so glad we found the same note.
If ever you feel like settling into more reflections, there’s always a spare chair ready for you at Often, & Otherwise. x
Well, I think I'll just settle myself into that spare chair! Thank you! I've brought fresh mint from my garden. Shall we settle in with some tea?
Mary, yes—let’s. I’ll clear a little more space, & you can tuck the mint into the pot. We’ll let it steep while the world spins on without us. No rush, no order. Just tea, stories, & a little rosewater shortbread I forgot I had. Soft, with the faintest hint of cardamom.
I needed to hear your response Kim, as I've been sitting with my own piles scolding myself!💕Thank you!
Julie, thank you. Isn’t it wild how quickly the piles start speaking in that scolding tone? I know it too well. I’m learning—slowly—that kindness quiets the mess far better than shame ever could. I’m so glad my words reached you in the middle of it all.
Kindness unlocks more than we know!
No truer words.
Kim..you nailed it for me..."the quiet war" within yourself about the "shoulds". Your beautifully written comment was gratefully received.
Harriet, thank you. That quiet war is exhausting, isn’t it? I’m glad the words found you—I think sometimes just naming it helps us loosen our grip a little. I’m so grateful they landed gently with you.
I love your response. It has essentially followed me to bed tonight, helping me to be grateful to still be surrounded by my "stuff" while living my messier than usual life. I am realizing the true blessing of the messiness of my life is, at 78 years old I am still here doing what I love most, which is sharing and helping my family and friends journey through life together.
Lorette, what a beautiful note to receive. I’m so moved by the way you framed it—the blessing not despite the mess, but within it. At 78, still surrounded by life, by purpose, by love—that’s the kind of abundance we rarely name but always feel. Thank you for carrying this reflection to bed with you. I imagine your “stuff” isn’t clutter—it’s proof. Of presence. Of care. Of a life still being lived.
What a beautiful reflection, Kim, into the promise of the deepest layers of letting go!
Barbara, thank you. I think some layers only reveal themselves when we’re not trying so hard to peel them.
Keep writing. Lovely.
Thank you, Elizabeth. What a lovely little cheer to wake up to—tucked in before the kettle even sang, and met with a smile.
This post spoke to me, though that’s what I think every week. This one in particular, though, as I bit by bit rid my house of stuff accumulated over the 27 years we’ve lived here. We aren’t yet selling or moving but are preparing to in the next couple of years. Still, my response to today’s prompt is metaphorical. The three things I would let go of today, if I could, are anxiety over things I can’t control, comparisons that lead to feelings of envy or inadequacy, and self-imposed guilt over myriad tiny things. Everything else is just stuff.
"Everything else is just stuff." Bam, mic drop moment, Abby!
Thanks Mary!
This exquisite domestic moment that becomes metaphysical without ever raising its voice…. You’ve turned a day of boxes and dust into a pilgrimage through memory, meaning, and maternal love. It made me think of something Milan Kundera once wrote: “We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold.” Except here, your mother handed you a script, not one for performance, but for presence. “Close the eyes. Hum. Dance.” A choreography of release, tucked between expired passports and medical records, as if to say: even the body’s archive needs a soundtrack.
Your reflection also reminded me of an unlikely parallel — quantum physics. Specifically, the concept of “coherent superposition”, where multiple realities can coexist until observed, forcing a collapse into one form. That’s what this kind of cleaning is, isn’t it? A quantum ritual. Each object in a box is a memory not yet collapsed, grief and joy, loss and art, chaos and clarity, all coiled together. It’s only when you touch it, choose to keep or let go, that the story stabilises into something you can carry or finally release.
And yes, the list at the end may look like a joke at first glance, but it’s the most serious form of wisdom. A mother’s poem masquerading as a task list. You’ve given us a beautiful reminder that sometimes, the most drastic simplification isn’t decluttering our space, but expanding the kinds of things we allow ourselves to count as important.
So here’s to more to-do lists that start with closing your eyes. And to dancing for five minutes, even if you’re covered in dust!
That line from Kundera!
Thank you Tamara....in my own effort to slow down, if I try to view my perceived tasks through the lens of quantum physics, it just might help me redefine what I truly need.
Tamara…
Once again you’ve added and deepened with your images, thoughts and commentary to Suleika’s post. This group is such a blessing.🙏
Wonderful introduction to this physics concept, thank you!
This post, while simple, brought up many feelings for me. It took me back to September of this past year. I had recently moved to a new state (for the first time) to start over after my relationship/engagement came crashing down. A new chapter I desperately needed after saying goodbye to the life and family I once knew.
I unpacked boxes I haven’t seen in years when I stumbled across a letter my dad wrote the Christmas before he died. I’m not sure why it was never opened or if I even knew the letter existed (it’s been 18years). It was a reminder that he is always with me, even on this new journey.
It now sits on my fridge among other important things, such as pictures of my late cat, Shadow, and artwork from my friend’s kids.
If I could let go of 3 things it would be the heartbreak, the shame, and the self-hate that burrowed its way into my heart. I want to challenge my heart to forgive and to love louder despite the crack in the middle. For too long I’ve been carrying a sinking sadness, unable to let go, but I need to make space for what is coming.
Swedish death cleaning has been a recurring activity for me since my cancer diagnosis in 2018. During this period of time my father died , so my brother , not to burden me ,hired an enormous staff to clear out , and get our childhood home on the market. The house sold quickly, but inevitably was remodeled. Memories destroyed by the house’s new owner. My brother had large plastic containers brought over to my house filled with photos and dishes . They are still sitting in my garage. My basement , has been an on going project, my husband and I are making progress. Recently, my brother unexpectedly died. His death has made clearing out our home essential and immediate. This life is exquisitely impermanent.
Sending you much love, Wendi ❤️
Back at you, dear Suleika.❤️
I am so sorry for your losses. May clearing out the various spaces in your life make room for love to accompany the sadness and sun to offset any darkness, that would inhabit your space. Best wishes for good health.
Oh yes…everything changes …we only have the moments…cherish it all if you can…not easy but worth it!🩷
Oh Suleika! What an honor it is to be a contributor to your magical book. I wish you and every reader the spaciousness of heart that comes with simplicity 🌸
So honored and grateful to have your voice in this powerful chorus. Much love to you! ❤️
Three letting goes:
A wish to create a photograph or piece of music so moving that the world will reconsider itself and behave
A need to reconsider myself every moment, to become “better”
An ancient family belief that we are unloveable and unloving
Your post really resonates with me David. I too have this belief that my only value would accrue if I wrote a world-changing novel, that I need to make myself better before I will be worthy, and my family too has generations of lack of self-worth. And I think there are more people like this than just you and me! ;-) I take solace from Elizabeth Gilbert - and Suleika too - that just about *everyone* worries that they're not worthy, or loveable, or deserving of good things... So, just keep being you - because you're the only "you" there is, and the world is a better place because of that. :-)
Thanks Bonnie for mentioning Elizabeth Gilbert. I know how much Suleika adores her too! I just listened to Elizabeth Gilbert’s “Big Magic” on audible yesterday as I drove from SF to LA and I would encourage everyone to read her book or listen to her soothing, wise voice read her book. She talks about self worth and value of oneself. It is full of encouragement, inspiration, and feeling comfort with creativity. Her “pep talks” about life and creativity are exceptional and exciting! Suleikas “ Book of Alchemy” is also a fantastic collection of beautiful personal stories and journeys! Her caring words always feel like a warm affectionate touch and sweet squeeze! I’m so appreciative of Suleikas inspiration to journal and create new paths of growth and enlightenment through these prompts and threads. This community and all the warm, genuine comments are invaluable! I hope that you, Bonnie and David and many others find personal happiness, peace, growth, and connections as I have. You ARE worthy and important! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and journey! We see you!
Today I completed Day 40 of journaling along with The Book of Alchemy and I cannot express enough how much more I am enjoying those first moments in the morning. Instead of reaching for my laptop...I sit quietly and then open my book. My leather-bound journal waits quietly in my lap as I read the day's essay and prompt. Then I pick up my pen. It would take some sort of emergency to cause me to skip a day. It's a favorite thing and I'm so thankful you put this out into the world.
Love this, Linda! Here’s to no emergencies! ❤️😂
Wow! Just woke up. Bedtime seems far away, but would love to let go of anxiety, worrying about finances & my fear of death. That’s enough for me! Sending my love & blessings to this beautiful community. And I’ll end with “you can’t always get what you want, but hopefully you get what you need.”
When your post shows up
I have just awakened
I reawaken
By what you say:
Face what you see
Be vulnerable
Look for help
Love is not that far away
A moment of doubt
Is not so unusual
A moment of love
Forever
Savable
Lovely!🥰
Like several writers here, I have recently declutterred or gone down and through that rabbithole of sorting out my storage, and so I’m trying to think past the initial impulse of the prompt (my slow cooker I only used once this winter?). I am, however, going through a deep decluttering of my professional self and my identity in the world as I grapple with a job search in the wake of leaving a federal position I had spent about a year securing, but couldn’t hold to in the age of DOGE. After about six weeks of taking-a-breath, I am encountering so many temptations to run off course from the center I finally reached as I ease back into the career space. Something that comes up for me is that I want to remain whole, I want to hold the wholeness that I feel I’ve so recently achieved. This comes up because it seems, now, that working in the spaces I’ve been in or where I am expected requires masks and partitioned identities. This clutter gets heavy, and lately I’ve wondered, “for what?”
So, to simplify, I would let go of three things today:
1. My trench and fancy long coats: their fit and warmth were never quite right for me, and I’d like to use the space for the right coat.
2. My years-old collection of business cards: I want to work among and for the people in my community rather than the online world so prominent in my industry. And anyways, we have LinkedIn.
3. My mirroring skill: adapting to the personality environment I’m in is an almost subconscious talent I have, a survival skill really, and a hallmark of my younger years when I wanted to try, taste, see everything from all the perspectives. Now, I think it’s ok to bring just my own personality to the table. And I might be less tired, not carrying so many others around.
Brilliant. The whole post, but especially, “ now I think it’s OK to bring just my own personality to the table. And I might be less tired, not carrying so many others around.” Simple and profound at the same time. Thank you for sharing.
Really profound Eleanor - and brave and courageous - to choose to be one's self - you've accrued a lot of wisdom, thank you for sharing it here. :-)
Thank you and thanks to all for these comments and encouragements. I hope I can hold to my goals as I pursue The Next Thing! It’s a wild, but still beautiful, world, if you can hold it to the right light. This venue is one of those right light-giving spaces :)
This venue is a literal “lifeline”…I realize I am never alone! Grateful for your honest sharing of yourselves!
And per Thomas Moore, let your eccentricity show!
Perfect timing to read this piece. I have 6 month old twins - much longed for and lovingly turning my world inside out. I feel so overwhelmed with the piles of stuff that get sent our way and the outgrown clothes that I need to pass on... the laundry that is never-ending and the constant folding and refolding of blankets and muslins. I'm going to keep taking moments to soak up the sticky hands and faces of my little guys and relish in the moments of quiet in between the hectic activity of day and night. I just started reading 'Meditation for Mortals' and it helps to make some sort of peace with chaos rather than trying to overcome it. Here's to a more simplified life.
If anyone should let the chaos be, it’s you, Avni. Send Martha Stewart packing. And if possible, get someone in to handle all things laundry. Plenty of students on summer break who could do this task.
Avni, look around your neighborhood for young people (elementary-middle school ages) who could become your mother's helpers. My daughter had this experience as a 10-12 year old, and learned so much that came in handy in her teaching career and then when she had her own twins, 14 years ago this month.
So timely, I am dealing with this very issue so thanks for the post. I’m trying to tackle one area at a time, the journal area and assorted stuff I’ve kept (mementos from people, travels, adventures) are hard to part with. I don’t want to leave my kids in a similar situation and as I am nearing 73, I’m thinking more about the inevitable. I love your mother’s note and will print out her list as a reminder that I definitely need. Thanks for these journals!
This was spot-on today. I went to bed SO MAD because I wasn’t able to finish the home project I started mid-day yesterday and which was completely overwhelming and an unreasonable amount of work for one day.
This morning in my journal I wrote down my pattern:
start huge project > run out of time > frustration > anger > blame others > resentment! > sadness/despair > acceptance
I’m reminded what the Big Book of AA says about acceptance being the answer to all my problems today. It doesn’t mean I like them, it just means, as Ani Pema says, that resistance to what is is the cause of suffering.
I needed this reminder today.
Peace be with you, Suleika. I’m on Day 26 of my journal and your book. 💕
✍️One prompt a day...
you know the rest.
Just bought a new yellow notebook to give each my best✍️
A little Alchemy goes a long way-
with or without precision
Thanks to all the Writer Magicians🪄
PS I don't care to write in rhyme...
most of the time😉
🥹Your mom sounds like a true gem! Blessed are you to belong together.