This reminded me of something a therapist said to me, many years after I stopped seeing him. He had held space for me as I recounted years of neglect and abuse and helped me through a time of serious falling apart...a decade of anxiety and depression issues...the suicides of my brother and father. Years later, I married again and it was an abusive man. I felt I should have known better, since I was now "all healed." i had such tremendous guilt for making that decision. I ran into him and told him how stupid I felt for doing that. He reminded me of just what Carmen writes about...that many things led up to the decision to fall in love with...and marry another abusive man. I had done the best I could with everything I knew up to that point. Soon I will be celebrating my 30th anniversary with a wonderful, caring, gentle man. I did learn...and I broke a cycle.
I read about breaking the cycle in Maria Shriver's newsletter this morning. I realized I had done that in quite a few ways and it helped me to think that way about my life. Her column this morning on Tyre Nichols was so touching.
Yes breaking the cycles, I’ve witnessed this in my own life these past few years in making that conscious effort and it’s truly freeing and the heart know 💜
My friend calls them “practice husbands”. We learn and move on. I have one as well. I learned what not to accept and found a wonderful person to be with now. It takes time to learn all this, and the learning part is really hard. However, without that learning, we’d never find out what’s right for us. ❤️
Yes...it took many tries. I didn't understand that I was attracted to unhealthy and was looking in that population...it took me a long time to see that and to give a healthy man a chance. I felt SO COMFORTABLE with dysfunction...it felt like "home." Now I'm 71. I have healed through almost 30 years of unconditional love and kindness.
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley
When my second marriage finally fell apart, I spent years wishing I could get a “do over”. Not a second chance to get the marriage right. A second chance to get the ending right.
Shortly after I moved out of my married home and into an apartment of my own, I started dating. It was an unconscious attempt to distract myself from the heartache and everything that felt painful and difficult. I picked up dating like some people pick up drugs or drinking.
The fact of my dating was convenient ammunition for my ex. He laid all the blame for the failure of our marriage at my feet.
I wanted to be beyond contempt. I wanted to maintain my status as the victim. I had given that up with my compulsive dating.
What did I learn? So many things—notably my need to be “right”, to be blameless, to be justified. My sense of worth was so fragile that I could not afford to be challenged—I would fall apart like a house of cards.
What’s different? I accept that I am flawed and guilty and that I cannot escape being human, but I also learned that I am good enough, that I am worthy. Worthy of love, compassion and forgiveness, from others and from myself.
Yes! And worthy of time alone to figure out "you." It's scary to be alone, and then...it's not. May the whole process of divorce bring you back to you. You are brave.
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley, Holly Huitt
I believe very deeply that we deserve, and have every right to practice, self-compassion. I believe we are doing our best, even when that best fails terribly, and does harm. And, I believe we must take responsibility for the harm we’ve done, rather than hide behind “I did my best.” And we need to apologize, and work to change. Maya Angelou said it best: do the best you can until you know better. Once you know better, do better.
I know from personal experience that one can deeply wound loved ones while doing one’s best (because we ourselves are wounded). I believe that self compassion, taking responsibility and apologizing, and changing all go together. And I think that no matter how much one changes for “the better,” there is always grief that one couldn’t have changed sooner (if one has done harm). Self compassion and grief. I believe we have to hold them both. 🙂
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt
The raw authenticity of both essays touched me deeply. I replay the moment two summers ago when I became broken. I had held it together (I won't go into the details) for so damn long, accepted what others said was "the best they could do" while I suffered, and continued my 24/7 caregiving. My therapist saved me and said, " Two things if I may. Ask yourself two questions: 'Am I doing this from the goodness in my heart? Is this the best thing for (insert name)?' If the answer to both is a resounding 'Yes," then proceed. If it isn't, hang back for a bit and sprinkle compassion on yourself for the unknowing."
Oh yes, Carmen. It was a portal really when he proposed them to me. A portal to a compassionate understanding of "me" and the room to give me the gift of unknowing/knowing.
My father was dying. He was in the ICU. After my mother’s death six days earlier, Dad showed us that he had hung on just for her. When news reached him in the hospital that mom had died (she was at their home in hospice care), his body became infused with carbon dioxide. My sister, brother and I flew into town to be with him. He rallied briefly for several days until the carbon dioxide took over again. Following his legal wishes, his life support machines were disconnected. During that time, I called his childhood best friend. Floyd cried. I told him that I would put the phone by Dad’s ear. Floyd spoke to Dad. That resulted an incredible occurrence--Dad made sounds from his throat in reply to Floyd. Dad actually heard Floyd’s words! Ironically (and somewhat comically), a nurse who had entered the room admonished me to let Dad preserve his energy. For what?!
Looking back, I’m grateful for the decision I made to have these eight-decade friends share their love for each other one final time. And it taught me that as life is ending, that person still might hold an awareness of the people and love enveloping him or her.❤️
Amy -- thanks for sharing this. So powerful. I remember the hospice chaplain listening intently to my long list of how I could have done the end of my dad's life better. He listened and I cried. He knew that I was an amazing caregiving, loving and gentle, and human. He said, "When your parents were raising you, did they do everything absolutely perfectly?" I said, "no... but they did the very best they could." He looked at me... and he didn't need to say a word. I knew.. that I did the very best I could -- and I was so fortunate to do my best at his side when he took his last breath. Thank you for prompting this memory - and for sharing your gratitude for that momentary decision.
I remember Floyd (my father’s friend) crying into the phone afterwards. He was deeply grateful to have been able to communicate with my father/his dear friend one final time.❤️
I am so sorry for your loss and losing your parents so close in time to one another. I can’t even fathom what that was like for you. You gave your father and his best friend an amazing gift. ❤️
Thank you for your kind and compassionate words. It sounds strange, but in some ways, having my parents die six days apart was a relief. Their health was so poor, and facing the challenges without their spouse, along with grieving, would have caused extra pain. They were fortunate to each pass away peacefully.
I'm so sorry for your loss of your parents so close together. What a gift you gave to your father. My father had dementia and when he was dying I also put the phone to his ear so he could hear his sister. She recounted childhood memories. He would not have known who she was if he had seen her in person, but as she spoke his eyes stayed closed and he smiled.
How very thoughtful of you to bring such comfort to your aunt and father at the end of his life. Yes, having my parents due six days apart was a shock to my brother, sister and me. It became apparent that Dad had hung on while Mom was alive. In a sense, it was a relief that they each died peacefully and didn’t have to endure the grief and sadness if missing each other.
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad
Buddhist concepts just always make sense and give me ‘aha!’ moments. I too have started to interrupt my tendency to assume the worst and realise most of us are just doing our best with as good intentions as there is capacity for - the issues arise when people aren’t doing their best to our standard (shout out to the disgruntled perfectionists!) and really a lot of the time that’s something we can change about us not the other way around.
Jade. You have the best name ever. I often speak of this acronym I heard once.. maybe in alanon - not sure. J A D E. I don't: justify, argue, defend or explain. Here's to you, your name, and this thoughtful comment.
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Holly Huitt, Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad
People-pleasing. That jumped out at me. I was raised in a house with an ineffectual mother and narcissistic sister. Ever since I can remember, I was expected to carry the burden of their shortcomings. My sister said to me once, “You’re too nice to people. I only tolerate them if they can do something for me.” Another time after a hectic event, my mother said to me, “I just don’t know what to do with you.” She crushed me a little with that remark.
I could go on, but you get the idea. I felt as though everyone’s happiness depended on me and I never felt that I was doing enough. Thankfully, my dad and his mom, my grandma, were there for me. It has taken me my whole life to understand and accept that I am enough. I am enough. My best efforts towards others rise and fall with the many variables of the moment, but I know my intentions come from caring.
Thank you, Carmen.
Suleika, thank you for sharing the Buddhist concept of right action…without attachment to the outcome…I’m going to focus on that. I love you girl. ♥️
The image of our best efforts rising and falling, rather than a static bar set just out of reach (can’t help but imagine a pole vaulter here) is very meaningful to me. Thank you Peg!
That is perfect, Holly! I spent a lot of my life running as fast as I could. It’s only been in the last handful of years that I learned I was running toward self acceptance. The image of myself being able to pole vault over the hurdles of my own making feels like a victory!!😁
I, of course, don’t know you and don’t know your struggles, but Geneen Roth has written some amazing and liberating things about “enough”. I get it—and I get being the conduit through which all the family heartache flowed. For so long, too long, I believed if I did or said the “right thing” others would be happy. I poured so much of myself into that empty well. Not anymore.
When I read this I think of my 7 year old when he had cancer. He had to go for the measurements for radiation and it was difficult, but he got through it as he did lying perfectly still through hundreds of MRIs and Cat Scans. This time I said to him "You did really good!" and he said " Isn't it wonderful when your best is THE best."
Your sons words just had an enormous impact on me. God bless him. 😊 From your words, it sounds like he is doing well now? My nephew had leukemia when he was 6 years old, so I know what you are talking about when you speak of everything they go through. ❤️
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad
What if the phrase “doing one’s best” is itself fraught with limitations? In the parlance of Ego talk, “my best” is restricted by the Ego’s grappling with me and my choices. There could be another dimension to this story. When I compose music, the Ego must lie down, allowing a single tone to take me on a journey beyond what I am familiar with, what has become the daily “I know myself”. This journey into the unknown, this flight beyond the familiar, is often what becomes the best(or, better). Who’s best? Mine? I don’t entirely think so. Is this channeling? I don’t know. Is this greater than “my best”? I think so. Is the universe calling me forward? Could be. There lies the mystery. The best I can do is get out of the way. Give up control in the moment. Then, and maybe, only then, the best occurs, leaving me quietly intrigued and humbled.
Before COVID I played flutes for people in our local hospitals. When I stood before someone and thought about “doing my best”, a self-consciousness dampened the music. Sometimes, when I surrendered to Music, to serving Music and the person before me, I found myself swimming in a “magical” sound beyond my understanding. I would even forget that I was holding a flute in my hands. A life-lesson in walking on this earth and,
at the same time, surrendering to the experience that “holds us all, and together”.
I love this. Our best is ironically when we’re not thinking about being impressive at all -- just allowing ourselves to be a channel for whatever we call that Something Bigger. I think Right Action is really about relaxing into that.
My iPad is just about out of battery so I just want to make a brief comment before it dies---- I LOVE everything about suleika and Carmen--- the writing, the authenticity, all the gifts that they are always sharing with the community ✨I am so grateful for their love and friendship even though we have never met in person....but I’m thinking that may happen in the future ❤️meantime I wanted to tell you both that I bought myself a black and red checkered shirt, just like the one in the adorable picture of the two of you. Whenever I wear it ( I live in miami‼️) I feel cozy and warm and I feel like Carmen and suleika are wrapped around with me.... it’s very sweet. ❌⭕️❌⭕️big hugs to all
Ditto all that Kimberly!! The authenticity of the stories and the prompt left me feeling so grateful as you so beautifully stated! I can’t say I have the buffalo plaid (yet)!
I believe just showing up sometimes is “our best” as so often it is the “expectations” of what “best” is that causes doubt, pain, regret, etc. thus living in right action provides a path of greater compassion and acceptance. May we all walk in loving kindness ❤️🙏🏼
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Carmen Radley, Suleika Jaouad
My beloved tiny Chihuahua Mommy Mayhem passed quietly at home last night. At the time of her adoption she was either 1 or 9 and I think the latter. This would make her about 21=22 at the time of her passing. I had hoped, when I saw the end was near that it could be at home. My former dogs made the trip to the vet and I usually carried them through waiting rooms full of pet owners. The privacy accorded to Mommy Mayhem seemed right and she looked peaceful. However this is my perspective of course.
Thank you so much Suleka--Mommy Mayhem lived a good very long life. When I adopted her I was given 2 opinions either she was 9 or 1.. I go with the 9 which would make her about 21-22 at the time of her passing. She was adopted from the rescue where I wrote dog and cat biographies for a decade. We of course did not really know the ages of most dogs or cats and the standard was 1 certainly not over 3.
Mom was rescued from a freezing car in Philadelphia and brought to Animal Control. Tiny Chihuahua's are rare and I was given her by my rescue as a gift for all those thousands of biographies that I wrote. She had the best personality, gentle and tough hence her name. That we passed so many years together makes me happy- I am only sorry we did not get the opportunity to see the Taj Mahal
Jan 29, 2023Liked by Carmen Radley, Holly Huitt, Suleika Jaouad
A great exploration of the things we are meant to pay attention to but often do not. In a culture as cluttered by delusion and fatal attractions as ours the stance of Buddhist Right Action, of spiritual guidance, becomes in reality a survival tactic. But if only we could learn to follow this path of spiritual grounding as individuals and as a culture at all times. Because as you point out that is the path our lives of suffering point to.
Here’s something that helped me a lot when I was ill. The epiphany that came my way was a long time in coming and I suffered deeply before that magical “aha” moment that Carmen described happened.
I wondered why some of the people whom I loved and cared about were behaving so strangely when they learned that I had cancer. Did they think it was contagious? That it was somehow bad luck to come too close to it? to come too close to me? I wrestled with their reactions and tried so hard to figure out what was going on. My go-to answer is to make excuses for other people’s bad behavior. My brother-in-law was worried about his own health; therefore, he couldn’t cope with my illness. Sallie would freak out if she saw me bald. Harry’s dog died last month. People I had known for years and kept up with regularly suddenly vanished off the radar. Shona was absent, Philippe went awol and on and on and I could come up with a valid excuse for every single one of their hurtful no-shows.
And while I was busy trying to defend my friends and family’s inability to cope with me… I realized something else was happening. People I hardly knew, caregivers whom I had never met before, fellow cancer patients at the clinic, the lady at the boulangerie, my mother’s hairdresser… all these kind strangers started to bathe me in a sea of love and kindness. It became clear that even though I wasn’t going to receive Shona-love or Harry-empathy --- care and concern were, in fact, all around me. I think that once we realize that we won’t always have the “person-specific” affection we crave, we can start to appreciate the fact that kindness and empathy and compassion are out there in abundance. It is what makes us human.
I have experienced similar moments of revelation during lonely moments of grief. Of realizing that when I focus on getting X type of care from Z person, I’m experiencing attachment, not love. Which is OK! We at one point were completely vulnerable babies who needed specific people to want to stick around, and specific needs we needed those very few people to meet. But being an adult is different. If we’re lucky, we live long enough to feel into the space you mention, between specific attachment and pure love. Love is when you can feel the care that comes from X, Y, Z, A, B, C... just as it is... and it all adds up to enough.
This is what I needed to hear. I've been hanging onto my friends' short-comings after my mom died. Meanwhile, there was kindness from unexpected places that was such a blessing. Thank you.
As someone who works in a hospital I try to be the person who shows love and compassion to my patients even when the expected people do not show up. I love your perspective.
Jane, This resonates so deeply for me. I’m experiencing my third go-around with cancer (The first was 24 years ago!) and I find myself deeply puzzled by the lack of community I experience from so many who have known me so long. And yet I am amazed by the love I experience here and in other spiritual online communities! I realised the other day how much I am learning by opening up myself to love in whatever form it comes and to letting go of old self-limiting paradigms.
Hey Anna, Maybe the prompt should have been "when doing THEIR best fails"...
When I relive the days I spent as a cancer patient, one of the things I regret most is that the people who were most frightened by the disease did not spend time with me. I did it well. I think nearly all of us do it well. Cancer (and really most illness) strips you of so much artifice. You get up-front and confidential with your purest, your strongest, your most profound, bald, naked self. It can be so liberating and illuminating (particularly after radiation treatment, haha). If the people whom I craved to be around had seen that it wasn't so scary, that I wasn't a dribbling, pitiful, angry wreck... maybe they could have learned something too. Writing helped so much. It still does. Keep doing it, Anna.
So many failures over my lifetime. Because I tried. I tried to do my best often using tools I learned in a very difficult childhood. Clumsy tools which often made the situation work. Then as often happens I asked for help. From a therapist. From a twelve step program. I learned to be kinder to myself. I learned to question my own motives before impulsively jumping in to “help” another person. I learned to ask myself if I could show up for fun and for free with no hidden agenda or expectation. If learned that compassion was not codependency. Especially important I have learned to accept myself. And others. I don’t have to like an unacceptable situation. But I do need to accept it. Because it is so. I have learned to live in the reality of this ever shifting life we share. And for that I am forever grateful.
God luck with your book Carmen. I look forward to reading it! Thanks Suleika and Carmen for todays prompt.
Wow! So so many things I did in my past that would be really hard to say I was doing my best! Some I don’t think I could ever say out loud. Going back I have to say many of my bad decisions go back to my drinking. I’ve been sober for years now. The day I said no more and quit drinking was truly being my “best”. I wish I could take it all back. But nature abhors a vacuum so since I needed to find an escape from my depression and anxiety maybe I would have made an even worse choice than alcohol. When I drank ( often) I was a compete jerk. And I’m so so sorry if I hurt anyone while I was inebriated. But if I met someone like me who was struggling I would be kind to them and forgive them. So while I can’t excuse some of my behaviors I forgive my bad decisions. I was self treating my emotional pain I the only way I knew at the time. I grew up both sheltered and semi feral. Both parents had their own unresolved issues. I believe they were doing the best they could. The were acting on what they had learned as well. So, I don’t excuse my bad decisions, but I acknowledge I did my best with the tools I had at the time. Also anytime when I wasn’t kind wasn’t ok but I behaved out if a knee jerk defense mechanism.
Also, I still recriminate myself for things I did as a child. Before I drank! I felt my existence was a mistake. I acted as a result of it knowing any other way to be!
Dear Laurie, Thank you for your honesty. You stopped me cold when you wrote ‘...when I wasn’t kind wasn’t ok but I behaved out of a knee jerk defense mechanism.’
The past two months I have been horrified too many times by my behavior. The latest happened two weeks ago. The way I spoke to my sister. Knowing that I hurt her. Realizing that the hurt has been over many years. I want to apologize. To make amends. In an honest, heartfelt, truthful way. Words do matter. I have been afraid of making this all about me, instead of what might begin some healing. Am I seeking perfection from myself? Is is possible to find a crack in my defense mechanism armor? Can I allow some grace, light and love to enter my heart?
Suleika, Carmen and Holly, thank you for opening this space for us❤️
Wow, 'nature abhors a vacuum'. What an eye-opening phrase!! Freedom for me came the day when I realized that it's OK to have a vacuum or as I called it 'hole in my chest'. Thanks Carmen and Suleika for your prompt. Now, I'm also interested in Buddist philosophy which has appeared in a few comments.
Laurie, your comment “I grew up both sheltered and semi feral. Both parents had their own unresolved issues.” deeply resonated with me. I grew up in a similar family. It took me a long time and lots of therapy and meditation practice to begin to be ok with the person I was when all I had were my bad role models and self-defense mechanisms including judgement and shame, for others and myself. I’m not proud of who I was, but I have come to understand that it was the best I could do at the time and now I’ve learned how to be better at compassion, for others and myself. I’m glad you found your way to sobriety and have been able to share your journey with us. ❤️
Jeremiah 1:1 Before i formed you in the womb i knew you and set you apart: Psalms : 139 You are fearfully and wonderfully made, this is for you Laurie and for anyone else that thinks their life is a mistake. No No No there is a reason and a plan for your life
Laurie -- thanks for sharing your heart.. and here's to tools at the time.. and to new tools that arrive in exactly the right time. Standing ovation to you.
This reminded me of something a therapist said to me, many years after I stopped seeing him. He had held space for me as I recounted years of neglect and abuse and helped me through a time of serious falling apart...a decade of anxiety and depression issues...the suicides of my brother and father. Years later, I married again and it was an abusive man. I felt I should have known better, since I was now "all healed." i had such tremendous guilt for making that decision. I ran into him and told him how stupid I felt for doing that. He reminded me of just what Carmen writes about...that many things led up to the decision to fall in love with...and marry another abusive man. I had done the best I could with everything I knew up to that point. Soon I will be celebrating my 30th anniversary with a wonderful, caring, gentle man. I did learn...and I broke a cycle.
That last line, Linda—just so so gorgeous. Thank you for sharing this story ❤️
I read about breaking the cycle in Maria Shriver's newsletter this morning. I realized I had done that in quite a few ways and it helped me to think that way about my life. Her column this morning on Tyre Nichols was so touching.
Yes breaking the cycles, I’ve witnessed this in my own life these past few years in making that conscious effort and it’s truly freeing and the heart know 💜
You broke the cycle. I love this...❤️
My friend calls them “practice husbands”. We learn and move on. I have one as well. I learned what not to accept and found a wonderful person to be with now. It takes time to learn all this, and the learning part is really hard. However, without that learning, we’d never find out what’s right for us. ❤️
Wow... here's to your 30th, Linda. Here's to the exact right timing in life.. in spite of it all.
Thanks, Susan. I am very lucky he found me. I almost turned him down...too nice. LOL
Lovely! We can learn, we can break our unhealthy patterns, we just need patience with ourselves and forgiveness for our past selves. Beautiful...
Yes...it took many tries. I didn't understand that I was attracted to unhealthy and was looking in that population...it took me a long time to see that and to give a healthy man a chance. I felt SO COMFORTABLE with dysfunction...it felt like "home." Now I'm 71. I have healed through almost 30 years of unconditional love and kindness.
You broke the cycle. I love this...❤️
OMG!❤️❤️❤️❤️
When my second marriage finally fell apart, I spent years wishing I could get a “do over”. Not a second chance to get the marriage right. A second chance to get the ending right.
Shortly after I moved out of my married home and into an apartment of my own, I started dating. It was an unconscious attempt to distract myself from the heartache and everything that felt painful and difficult. I picked up dating like some people pick up drugs or drinking.
The fact of my dating was convenient ammunition for my ex. He laid all the blame for the failure of our marriage at my feet.
I wanted to be beyond contempt. I wanted to maintain my status as the victim. I had given that up with my compulsive dating.
What did I learn? So many things—notably my need to be “right”, to be blameless, to be justified. My sense of worth was so fragile that I could not afford to be challenged—I would fall apart like a house of cards.
What’s different? I accept that I am flawed and guilty and that I cannot escape being human, but I also learned that I am good enough, that I am worthy. Worthy of love, compassion and forgiveness, from others and from myself.
The idea of being right/perfect/blameless = being worthy is so familiar to me, but your last paragraph feels truer ❤️
Yes! And worthy of time alone to figure out "you." It's scary to be alone, and then...it's not. May the whole process of divorce bring you back to you. You are brave.
Oh the need to be right in this situation! I relate so much to your experience Meghan thank you for sharing.
Love this. No escaping being human. Yes. This. Thanks Meghan.
I believe very deeply that we deserve, and have every right to practice, self-compassion. I believe we are doing our best, even when that best fails terribly, and does harm. And, I believe we must take responsibility for the harm we’ve done, rather than hide behind “I did my best.” And we need to apologize, and work to change. Maya Angelou said it best: do the best you can until you know better. Once you know better, do better.
I know from personal experience that one can deeply wound loved ones while doing one’s best (because we ourselves are wounded). I believe that self compassion, taking responsibility and apologizing, and changing all go together. And I think that no matter how much one changes for “the better,” there is always grief that one couldn’t have changed sooner (if one has done harm). Self compassion and grief. I believe we have to hold them both. 🙂
Once you know better, do better ❤️❤️❤️
Yes yes yes to everything you expressed so beautifully here.
So well said. And love the Maya Angelou quote.
That made my heart hurt with truth!
Ah, yes, the sooner part. Truth. Thanks.
Beautifully written. And I love Maya; I have this quote in one of my quotes journals. ❤️
I just added this one to mine.
I did too!
The raw authenticity of both essays touched me deeply. I replay the moment two summers ago when I became broken. I had held it together (I won't go into the details) for so damn long, accepted what others said was "the best they could do" while I suffered, and continued my 24/7 caregiving. My therapist saved me and said, " Two things if I may. Ask yourself two questions: 'Am I doing this from the goodness in my heart? Is this the best thing for (insert name)?' If the answer to both is a resounding 'Yes," then proceed. If it isn't, hang back for a bit and sprinkle compassion on yourself for the unknowing."
Love these questions ❤️
Oh yes, Carmen. It was a portal really when he proposed them to me. A portal to a compassionate understanding of "me" and the room to give me the gift of unknowing/knowing.
❤️
Laurie, you are always so generous with your gentle, strong heart to me. Thank you.
And you are to me as well!💜
Resounding yes to this.
My father was dying. He was in the ICU. After my mother’s death six days earlier, Dad showed us that he had hung on just for her. When news reached him in the hospital that mom had died (she was at their home in hospice care), his body became infused with carbon dioxide. My sister, brother and I flew into town to be with him. He rallied briefly for several days until the carbon dioxide took over again. Following his legal wishes, his life support machines were disconnected. During that time, I called his childhood best friend. Floyd cried. I told him that I would put the phone by Dad’s ear. Floyd spoke to Dad. That resulted an incredible occurrence--Dad made sounds from his throat in reply to Floyd. Dad actually heard Floyd’s words! Ironically (and somewhat comically), a nurse who had entered the room admonished me to let Dad preserve his energy. For what?!
Looking back, I’m grateful for the decision I made to have these eight-decade friends share their love for each other one final time. And it taught me that as life is ending, that person still might hold an awareness of the people and love enveloping him or her.❤️
Absolutely astonishing—thank you for sharing this beautiful if heartbreaking goodbye ❤️
Amy -- thanks for sharing this. So powerful. I remember the hospice chaplain listening intently to my long list of how I could have done the end of my dad's life better. He listened and I cried. He knew that I was an amazing caregiving, loving and gentle, and human. He said, "When your parents were raising you, did they do everything absolutely perfectly?" I said, "no... but they did the very best they could." He looked at me... and he didn't need to say a word. I knew.. that I did the very best I could -- and I was so fortunate to do my best at his side when he took his last breath. Thank you for prompting this memory - and for sharing your gratitude for that momentary decision.
You must have filled your parents lives with pride and love. The chaplain phrased his words beautifully.
I believe you were right; without a doubt. 100%. ❤️
I remember Floyd (my father’s friend) crying into the phone afterwards. He was deeply grateful to have been able to communicate with my father/his dear friend one final time.❤️
And this too!! ❤️❤️❤️
I am so sorry for your loss and losing your parents so close in time to one another. I can’t even fathom what that was like for you. You gave your father and his best friend an amazing gift. ❤️
Thank you for your kind and compassionate words. It sounds strange, but in some ways, having my parents die six days apart was a relief. Their health was so poor, and facing the challenges without their spouse, along with grieving, would have caused extra pain. They were fortunate to each pass away peacefully.
This makes so much sense. ❤️
I'm so sorry for your loss of your parents so close together. What a gift you gave to your father. My father had dementia and when he was dying I also put the phone to his ear so he could hear his sister. She recounted childhood memories. He would not have known who she was if he had seen her in person, but as she spoke his eyes stayed closed and he smiled.
How very thoughtful of you to bring such comfort to your aunt and father at the end of his life. Yes, having my parents due six days apart was a shock to my brother, sister and me. It became apparent that Dad had hung on while Mom was alive. In a sense, it was a relief that they each died peacefully and didn’t have to endure the grief and sadness if missing each other.
Buddhist concepts just always make sense and give me ‘aha!’ moments. I too have started to interrupt my tendency to assume the worst and realise most of us are just doing our best with as good intentions as there is capacity for - the issues arise when people aren’t doing their best to our standard (shout out to the disgruntled perfectionists!) and really a lot of the time that’s something we can change about us not the other way around.
So gorgeously said ♥️
Ditto what Suleika said ❤️
Truth. Thanks, Jade.
Jade. You have the best name ever. I often speak of this acronym I heard once.. maybe in alanon - not sure. J A D E. I don't: justify, argue, defend or explain. Here's to you, your name, and this thoughtful comment.
People-pleasing. That jumped out at me. I was raised in a house with an ineffectual mother and narcissistic sister. Ever since I can remember, I was expected to carry the burden of their shortcomings. My sister said to me once, “You’re too nice to people. I only tolerate them if they can do something for me.” Another time after a hectic event, my mother said to me, “I just don’t know what to do with you.” She crushed me a little with that remark.
I could go on, but you get the idea. I felt as though everyone’s happiness depended on me and I never felt that I was doing enough. Thankfully, my dad and his mom, my grandma, were there for me. It has taken me my whole life to understand and accept that I am enough. I am enough. My best efforts towards others rise and fall with the many variables of the moment, but I know my intentions come from caring.
Thank you, Carmen.
Suleika, thank you for sharing the Buddhist concept of right action…without attachment to the outcome…I’m going to focus on that. I love you girl. ♥️
The image of our best efforts rising and falling, rather than a static bar set just out of reach (can’t help but imagine a pole vaulter here) is very meaningful to me. Thank you Peg!
I agree! Also love your addition of the pole vaulter, Holly!
That is perfect, Holly! I spent a lot of my life running as fast as I could. It’s only been in the last handful of years that I learned I was running toward self acceptance. The image of myself being able to pole vault over the hurdles of my own making feels like a victory!!😁
Exactly! I do my best, but my best may be different every day depending on my energy level or my heart space or a million other factors!
I, of course, don’t know you and don’t know your struggles, but Geneen Roth has written some amazing and liberating things about “enough”. I get it—and I get being the conduit through which all the family heartache flowed. For so long, too long, I believed if I did or said the “right thing” others would be happy. I poured so much of myself into that empty well. Not anymore.
Love Geneen.
I love what you said here, Meghan. Thank you. “Not anymore” was self preservation for me.
Thanks, Peg.
When I read this I think of my 7 year old when he had cancer. He had to go for the measurements for radiation and it was difficult, but he got through it as he did lying perfectly still through hundreds of MRIs and Cat Scans. This time I said to him "You did really good!" and he said " Isn't it wonderful when your best is THE best."
What a gorgeous moment ❤️❤️❤️
I truly was...
What a wise boy. So incredible that wisdom can come from someone so young…out of the mouths of babes. My hope is that he’s well.
Your sons words just had an enormous impact on me. God bless him. 😊 From your words, it sounds like he is doing well now? My nephew had leukemia when he was 6 years old, so I know what you are talking about when you speak of everything they go through. ❤️
Susan, did you get my reply from the other day? J
Jeanne, no, I didn’t?
Wow.
“Try...fail; try again, fail better.” Learning both humility and courage, day by day.
All is grace.
All is grace ❤️❤️❤️
What if the phrase “doing one’s best” is itself fraught with limitations? In the parlance of Ego talk, “my best” is restricted by the Ego’s grappling with me and my choices. There could be another dimension to this story. When I compose music, the Ego must lie down, allowing a single tone to take me on a journey beyond what I am familiar with, what has become the daily “I know myself”. This journey into the unknown, this flight beyond the familiar, is often what becomes the best(or, better). Who’s best? Mine? I don’t entirely think so. Is this channeling? I don’t know. Is this greater than “my best”? I think so. Is the universe calling me forward? Could be. There lies the mystery. The best I can do is get out of the way. Give up control in the moment. Then, and maybe, only then, the best occurs, leaving me quietly intrigued and humbled.
Before COVID I played flutes for people in our local hospitals. When I stood before someone and thought about “doing my best”, a self-consciousness dampened the music. Sometimes, when I surrendered to Music, to serving Music and the person before me, I found myself swimming in a “magical” sound beyond my understanding. I would even forget that I was holding a flute in my hands. A life-lesson in walking on this earth and,
at the same time, surrendering to the experience that “holds us all, and together”.
🏮
Such a gorgeous reflection, David—thank you for sharing ❤️
I love this. Our best is ironically when we’re not thinking about being impressive at all -- just allowing ourselves to be a channel for whatever we call that Something Bigger. I think Right Action is really about relaxing into that.
You shared wonderful insight, David.
David... simply stunning. Thanks.
My iPad is just about out of battery so I just want to make a brief comment before it dies---- I LOVE everything about suleika and Carmen--- the writing, the authenticity, all the gifts that they are always sharing with the community ✨I am so grateful for their love and friendship even though we have never met in person....but I’m thinking that may happen in the future ❤️meantime I wanted to tell you both that I bought myself a black and red checkered shirt, just like the one in the adorable picture of the two of you. Whenever I wear it ( I live in miami‼️) I feel cozy and warm and I feel like Carmen and suleika are wrapped around with me.... it’s very sweet. ❌⭕️❌⭕️big hugs to all
Buffalo plaid forever! ❤️🖤
Ditto all that Kimberly!! The authenticity of the stories and the prompt left me feeling so grateful as you so beautifully stated! I can’t say I have the buffalo plaid (yet)!
I believe just showing up sometimes is “our best” as so often it is the “expectations” of what “best” is that causes doubt, pain, regret, etc. thus living in right action provides a path of greater compassion and acceptance. May we all walk in loving kindness ❤️🙏🏼
My beloved tiny Chihuahua Mommy Mayhem passed quietly at home last night. At the time of her adoption she was either 1 or 9 and I think the latter. This would make her about 21=22 at the time of her passing. I had hoped, when I saw the end was near that it could be at home. My former dogs made the trip to the vet and I usually carried them through waiting rooms full of pet owners. The privacy accorded to Mommy Mayhem seemed right and she looked peaceful. However this is my perspective of course.
Sending you love, Mae ❤️
Thank you, precious baby..
Oh, Mae. I’m so sorry to hear about sweet Mommy Mayhem. Sending love ❤️
Thank you so much Suleka--Mommy Mayhem lived a good very long life. When I adopted her I was given 2 opinions either she was 9 or 1.. I go with the 9 which would make her about 21-22 at the time of her passing. She was adopted from the rescue where I wrote dog and cat biographies for a decade. We of course did not really know the ages of most dogs or cats and the standard was 1 certainly not over 3.
Mom was rescued from a freezing car in Philadelphia and brought to Animal Control. Tiny Chihuahua's are rare and I was given her by my rescue as a gift for all those thousands of biographies that I wrote. She had the best personality, gentle and tough hence her name. That we passed so many years together makes me happy- I am only sorry we did not get the opportunity to see the Taj Mahal
Mae, so sorry for this loss. Peace to you...
Thank you -sigh
I’m so sorry for your loss! It’s never easy saying goodbye to out fur babies.
Family they be...
A great exploration of the things we are meant to pay attention to but often do not. In a culture as cluttered by delusion and fatal attractions as ours the stance of Buddhist Right Action, of spiritual guidance, becomes in reality a survival tactic. But if only we could learn to follow this path of spiritual grounding as individuals and as a culture at all times. Because as you point out that is the path our lives of suffering point to.
❤️❤️❤️
Here’s something that helped me a lot when I was ill. The epiphany that came my way was a long time in coming and I suffered deeply before that magical “aha” moment that Carmen described happened.
I wondered why some of the people whom I loved and cared about were behaving so strangely when they learned that I had cancer. Did they think it was contagious? That it was somehow bad luck to come too close to it? to come too close to me? I wrestled with their reactions and tried so hard to figure out what was going on. My go-to answer is to make excuses for other people’s bad behavior. My brother-in-law was worried about his own health; therefore, he couldn’t cope with my illness. Sallie would freak out if she saw me bald. Harry’s dog died last month. People I had known for years and kept up with regularly suddenly vanished off the radar. Shona was absent, Philippe went awol and on and on and I could come up with a valid excuse for every single one of their hurtful no-shows.
And while I was busy trying to defend my friends and family’s inability to cope with me… I realized something else was happening. People I hardly knew, caregivers whom I had never met before, fellow cancer patients at the clinic, the lady at the boulangerie, my mother’s hairdresser… all these kind strangers started to bathe me in a sea of love and kindness. It became clear that even though I wasn’t going to receive Shona-love or Harry-empathy --- care and concern were, in fact, all around me. I think that once we realize that we won’t always have the “person-specific” affection we crave, we can start to appreciate the fact that kindness and empathy and compassion are out there in abundance. It is what makes us human.
I have experienced similar moments of revelation during lonely moments of grief. Of realizing that when I focus on getting X type of care from Z person, I’m experiencing attachment, not love. Which is OK! We at one point were completely vulnerable babies who needed specific people to want to stick around, and specific needs we needed those very few people to meet. But being an adult is different. If we’re lucky, we live long enough to feel into the space you mention, between specific attachment and pure love. Love is when you can feel the care that comes from X, Y, Z, A, B, C... just as it is... and it all adds up to enough.
"It all adds up to enough."
That means we don't have to keep a tally! How much easier that might be.
This is so powerful, Jean—the strangers bathing you in a sea of love and kindness. So so powerful ❤️
This is what I needed to hear. I've been hanging onto my friends' short-comings after my mom died. Meanwhile, there was kindness from unexpected places that was such a blessing. Thank you.
As someone who works in a hospital I try to be the person who shows love and compassion to my patients even when the expected people do not show up. I love your perspective.
Jane, This resonates so deeply for me. I’m experiencing my third go-around with cancer (The first was 24 years ago!) and I find myself deeply puzzled by the lack of community I experience from so many who have known me so long. And yet I am amazed by the love I experience here and in other spiritual online communities! I realised the other day how much I am learning by opening up myself to love in whatever form it comes and to letting go of old self-limiting paradigms.
Hey Anna, Maybe the prompt should have been "when doing THEIR best fails"...
When I relive the days I spent as a cancer patient, one of the things I regret most is that the people who were most frightened by the disease did not spend time with me. I did it well. I think nearly all of us do it well. Cancer (and really most illness) strips you of so much artifice. You get up-front and confidential with your purest, your strongest, your most profound, bald, naked self. It can be so liberating and illuminating (particularly after radiation treatment, haha). If the people whom I craved to be around had seen that it wasn't so scary, that I wasn't a dribbling, pitiful, angry wreck... maybe they could have learned something too. Writing helped so much. It still does. Keep doing it, Anna.
So many failures over my lifetime. Because I tried. I tried to do my best often using tools I learned in a very difficult childhood. Clumsy tools which often made the situation work. Then as often happens I asked for help. From a therapist. From a twelve step program. I learned to be kinder to myself. I learned to question my own motives before impulsively jumping in to “help” another person. I learned to ask myself if I could show up for fun and for free with no hidden agenda or expectation. If learned that compassion was not codependency. Especially important I have learned to accept myself. And others. I don’t have to like an unacceptable situation. But I do need to accept it. Because it is so. I have learned to live in the reality of this ever shifting life we share. And for that I am forever grateful.
God luck with your book Carmen. I look forward to reading it! Thanks Suleika and Carmen for todays prompt.
Wow! So so many things I did in my past that would be really hard to say I was doing my best! Some I don’t think I could ever say out loud. Going back I have to say many of my bad decisions go back to my drinking. I’ve been sober for years now. The day I said no more and quit drinking was truly being my “best”. I wish I could take it all back. But nature abhors a vacuum so since I needed to find an escape from my depression and anxiety maybe I would have made an even worse choice than alcohol. When I drank ( often) I was a compete jerk. And I’m so so sorry if I hurt anyone while I was inebriated. But if I met someone like me who was struggling I would be kind to them and forgive them. So while I can’t excuse some of my behaviors I forgive my bad decisions. I was self treating my emotional pain I the only way I knew at the time. I grew up both sheltered and semi feral. Both parents had their own unresolved issues. I believe they were doing the best they could. The were acting on what they had learned as well. So, I don’t excuse my bad decisions, but I acknowledge I did my best with the tools I had at the time. Also anytime when I wasn’t kind wasn’t ok but I behaved out if a knee jerk defense mechanism.
Also, I still recriminate myself for things I did as a child. Before I drank! I felt my existence was a mistake. I acted as a result of it knowing any other way to be!
Thank you, Laurie. Sending lots of love!
Dear Laurie, Thank you for your honesty. You stopped me cold when you wrote ‘...when I wasn’t kind wasn’t ok but I behaved out of a knee jerk defense mechanism.’
The past two months I have been horrified too many times by my behavior. The latest happened two weeks ago. The way I spoke to my sister. Knowing that I hurt her. Realizing that the hurt has been over many years. I want to apologize. To make amends. In an honest, heartfelt, truthful way. Words do matter. I have been afraid of making this all about me, instead of what might begin some healing. Am I seeking perfection from myself? Is is possible to find a crack in my defense mechanism armor? Can I allow some grace, light and love to enter my heart?
Suleika, Carmen and Holly, thank you for opening this space for us❤️
Wow, 'nature abhors a vacuum'. What an eye-opening phrase!! Freedom for me came the day when I realized that it's OK to have a vacuum or as I called it 'hole in my chest'. Thanks Carmen and Suleika for your prompt. Now, I'm also interested in Buddist philosophy which has appeared in a few comments.
Laurie, your comment “I grew up both sheltered and semi feral. Both parents had their own unresolved issues.” deeply resonated with me. I grew up in a similar family. It took me a long time and lots of therapy and meditation practice to begin to be ok with the person I was when all I had were my bad role models and self-defense mechanisms including judgement and shame, for others and myself. I’m not proud of who I was, but I have come to understand that it was the best I could do at the time and now I’ve learned how to be better at compassion, for others and myself. I’m glad you found your way to sobriety and have been able to share your journey with us. ❤️
Thank you Molly.
Laurie lots of love and grace I’m sending to you and may you have the experience of live and grace within you whenever it’s needed and it will be.
Thank you Sherri.
Jeremiah 1:1 Before i formed you in the womb i knew you and set you apart: Psalms : 139 You are fearfully and wonderfully made, this is for you Laurie and for anyone else that thinks their life is a mistake. No No No there is a reason and a plan for your life
Laurie -- thanks for sharing your heart.. and here's to tools at the time.. and to new tools that arrive in exactly the right time. Standing ovation to you.