In 2021 our family couldn't afford to take a summer vacation. Gas prices were too high, covid scare still lingering. But then in September our house sprung a leak. The pipes hidden in the concrete slab started bubbling water up under the floorboards in the hall. We called in a contractor and they discovered also that the drainpipe to the tub had corroded away and water had been standing in a pool under the tub for a long time and there was mold in the walls of the bathroom and our bedroom. And also the roof had been leaking and there was mold in the walls of my children's rooms.
We had to evacuate our house. Pile almost all our possessions into a POD (thanks so much to all the scouts and homeschooling families who came to help us pack all our stuff!) while the contractors flood-cut the walls and ripped up the wall to wall carpeting and the faux-wooden floors. (The old nasty carpets we'd been dreaming of pulling up, but getting everyone and everything out of the house was too big a pain.)
Our insurance wanted to put us up in a hotel, two two-room suites for seven people for an indefinite period of time; but we did some research and found a rental house that cost less than the hotel and would give us much more room to spread out, plus a full kitchen. Amazingly our insurance agreed to pay for the VRBO. Then, while we waited for the insurance to approve the funding for a rental, a friend reached out and offered us his family's vacation home for two weeks. On Cape Cod. So we got our vacation after all. September is a little cool, but we waded along the beach, saw seals and gathered shells, and tried not to think about the house.
Then we moved to the VRBO. Which was again, just blocks from the beach, this time in Plymouth. We spent all of October and most of November in a beach house, walking on the beach most days. We had adventures including weathering a storm with hurricane-force winds.
If our house hadn't flooded, we'd never have been able to afford two months of living at the beach. It was awful and inconvenient at times, but it was also magnificent. Now tell me was the flood bad or good? We ended up with all new floors and new walls, all freshly painted. We had a long vacation in places we could never have given our kids. We just had to undergo some trauma and massive disruption in order to get there.
Absolutely loved this, Melanie. So glad you and your family had the beautiful weeks by the beach (and sorry about the leak—a drag, but what a turnaround) xx
I was in my second last semester of my master's program in Boston, far away from my family in small town Ontario. i was so elated to be approaching the finish line, my vision of the future was a blurry, shaking kaleidoscope of possibility. Then the unthinkable happened- I was visa non-compliant due to a fluke in the online self-service system. The international advisor didn't catch the dropped course in time, the school had already sent it's reports to ICE. Trump had just passed a new covid measure that all foreign students who were only taking online courses had to return to their home country, and they also couldn't get new visas if theirs was terminated. They had to terminate my visa. I had 21 days to leave. I had to break a new lease I had just signed, and give away everything I had spent the past three years collecting. Anything that couldn't fit into my 2 suitcases I had to leave behind. I was forced to take a 6-month leave of absence until in-person classes resumed. I was devastated. I felt like such a failure to be falling behind compared to my friends, who'd be graduating next semester. I felt I was leaving behind a life that I had spent so much time carefully curating, I felt I was travelling back in time- to go back to Canada, back to my childhood home, could only feel like a cruel regression. I ended up flying home on Jan 6th 2021- the day of the insurrection. I remember feeling that the day really couldn't get any worse.
Inevitably, after having spent the summer back at my family home, I returned to Boston to finish my degree. Not even 2 weeks after coming back, both of my parents were diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. I had to return home again to take care of them until their passing. My mom died 2 weeks after I returned home, and my father died 3 months after her. That 6 month period where I was forced to leave the country, that I thought had meant certain doom, was actually the last 6 months I spent with my parents when they were healthy. Pure, unfettered, joyous, rampant bliss. I was able to cook with my dad, go on trips with them, lounge by the pool, spend lazy summer days with them chatting and laughing and loving. Now, I would not give those 6 months up for anything. If I had remained in Boston and graduated 'on time', the next I would have seen my parents, they would already appear sick and dying, the chemo coursing through their bodies. Those 6 months are holy to me. A lasting memory. I can still hear my dad laughing at the barbeque, my mom wearing her crochet sunhat, waiting for whatever tasty food my dad was cooking. I was witness to much life in that small period.
Many years ago, we lost our business and home to a bankruptcy. We were bereft with nowhere to turn. A friend called and said he might know someone who could help us.
We met with him (on my birthday) he listened to our long, sad story and after we had talked for several hours, he sat back in his chair and said I will help you. He bought a home we chose. We paid interest only, did the things he told us to regain good credit. In three years, he got us a mortgage, not taking any money from us at all.
A man that had been a client at our business gave us a truck because he knew my husband had lost his in the bankruptcy. When we went back a few months later to pay him, he cried and said he never expected payment.
I am a firm believer in angels that come knocking. Open the door! Open the door!
It's still such an improbable story and hard to believe it all happened. But we were truly cared for by strangers in our midst...how could you not believe in angels.
In November 2023, I was diagnosed with a serious form of oral cancer. I went through seven months of difficult treatment, but I came out the other side and am in remission. There were several good things that came out of that experience. The thing that affected my life the most was that I quit drinking alcohol. Because I felt so much better not drinking alcohol I started exercising regularly. My gratitude for every moment of life has deepen and I try to bring joy to others as much as I can.
Oh, I'm so glad you're ok, Karen, and yes, I've heard that from SO many who quit alcohol, that however much or little they drank, it improved things in one way or another. And I admire your exercise routine--that's on my list, too, for 2025. xoxo
Funny you should mention it, I just wrote a book with this as the underline theme. In fact I quote your wound is the origin of wonder, Maya. The book's called Go On With It. Maybe one day it will see the light of day.
So many examples of this in my life. A recent one, in late 2021, a sudden severe (and seemingly chronic) illness precipitated a job change a few months later from a place I had been at for my whole career. I’m super resistant to change so leaving this employer was never part of my plan and the situation was super scary (and depressing) at the time. Now, not only am I so grateful for the opportunity that came up & that I took it, but also I realize I probably never would have made the leap if it were not for my illness at the time. three years in, I have been at a way better job where I have been able to work a third of the hours at the same pay as my previous employer, and in a almost entirely remote work situation . the reduction in stress and workload has not only improved my quality of life overall, but I believe has been a contributing factor in my health issue improving almost completely over that time.
I think the way we hold space for this question determines the level of presence we bring to whatever “good” or expansive opportunities may be presenting themselves thru the challenge. The hidden gifts. The hard but character building moments. For me a single story (out of a lifetime of these) was early in my career as a human being, having just dropped out of highschool (shite waste of time) to read a newspaper’s list of the top 100 books to raise your moral consciousness and to backpack. The first night out on my first trip I was attacked by a bear (I had tons of cooked food just stuffed into every crevice) and spent the night shivering and weeping in a latrine. At dawn I hiked out, my back in shreds, my hope and sense of myself even more so. I also had 7$ left to my name, which I had intended on using for gas home. I drove to the nearest station, but couldn’t pull up to the pump. I sat on the curb and wept in pity for myself and my predicament. A man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere (but this a true story) and had a long silvery braid, and in my memory seemed to be wearing strangely old timey clothes. He asked me why I was crying on such a pretty day. I had yet to tell anyone my tale of woe. I told him, in giant heaving sobs, ending with, “I’m crying because I WAS ATTACKED BY A BEAR.” Mic drop. Big finish. It is an understatement to say I did not expect him to laugh. And then to howl with mirth. As if I just told the punchline of the century, delivered with aplomb. When he finally dried his tears, and let the laughter spasms die down (I am not exaggerating, the man was nearly undone by this joke of a story, apparently.). Luckily I was too tired to have run away from what clearly was a psychotic response. I was also too in shock to respond in real time to anything. So when he pulled a thing of spearmint floss from his pocket and tossed it onto my backpack and said the now fabled words, “you’re not the kind of girl to let a little ol’ bear attack stop you, are you?” And walked away, I was too in shock to either agree or disagree. Is it good? Is it bad? I did spend my last 7 dollars on junk food, sewed the damn pack up with the floss and went backpacking in those same woods for 3 days and 3 nights. 30 years later I am still living his question.
Let me take you back to Christmas 1989. I had a bad skiing accident and blew out my left knee. Surgical repair early in January 1990, followed by 2 more surgeries that year and a lot of physical therapy left me upright and walking but not much more. I had been a serious recreational runner and weekend rock climber and the life I knew was in shambles. In January 1991 I hired a coach to help me get back into shape so I could return to running and climbing. He suggested that I begin a meditation practice — something I’d been curious about but never tried. Over the next two years that meditation practice deepened into a serious zen practice which led me to a wonderful teacher and ultimately changed my life. What I’m sharing is that the ski accident that up ended my life as I knew it led me to a spiritual practice that has been the solid foundation of my life ever since. So most definitely something that was genuinely terrible at first created the space for something extraordinary to happen.
Wow, I love this, Laura. I really do believe that the universe guides us towards the teachers, individuals, and practices that will lead to our greatest fulfillment. This is an example of that. Much love. 💛
In January 2019 I had to have a vaccination against yellow fever, ahead of a working trip to Ethiopia (which never happened). For those who have not had it, it's a VERY heavy process, with a consultation beforehand and then the signing of a release form that accepts that this jab may kill me.
A few weeks later, mild discomfort throughout my torso turned into unbearable nerve pain, front, back and sides, collar bones to waist, that lasted nearly a month, that even liquid morphine barely touched, and that incapacitated me to the point where I couldn't walk. I live alone. There was no way. So I went back to my Mum's house, and she took care of me.
In those 3-4 weeks, I got a really deep insight into how my Mum lived, day to day. The laughter she brought. The friends who loved her. Her light touch in every moment. Her permanently sunny disposition, even when things were tough. I wrote her a poem, encapsulating everything I wanted to say to her.
It was a true privilege to share that space with her. And it was to be my last opportunity. Two months later, she died.
The illness (later diagnosed as Gillaine-Barre Syndrome, an auto-immune disease that, yes, could have killed me) was the worst I've ever had, and I am so grateful to have gone through that as I got to spend nearly a month with my lovely Mum in her home territory, which was such a blessing.
Two years later, the fact I have GBS on my health record allowed me to get an exemption from the experimental Covid shots (which I'd never have taken in any case). It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
I’m so glad you survived that horrible side effect and that you got to appreciate your mother so fully. This is so beautiful and complex. I hope you read the other stories here, because yours resonates with some of the others. Thank you so much for sharing with me. 💛
After years of mysterious symptoms, last year I was diagnosed with several chronic illnesses. I still have a hard time understanding that this is me and my story, that I actually have these things, but there it is. In order to manage the limited energy that I have and continue to participate in family life as a mother of a small child (among other things), I have had to slow down. Not like how I thought slowing down would look, like accomplishing half of my to do list instead of all of it. But like really really really slowing down. Saying no to things I otherwise might like to do, like trips to visit my family or lunches with my in-laws, and to things that I might not, like driving my son to one more extracurricular activity. Saying no to big ideas of things I wanted to accomplish. Saying no to concepts of where I ought to be in my life by now. And saying yes, quietly, to just being here with whatever is happening now.
About a decade ago my thirty year marriage ended very painfully. A friend at the time told me I had been given a ‘gift’ by my ex husband. I was as raw as an uncooked egg for sometime but when I felt like being cooked by the world again I discovered - poetry, new friends, art, a husband and his family. I walked across mountains and cycled by the sea. I found me.
During early covid era, i got a job teaching english to teens in a language institute. Although i got fired from that job after 3 months, i felt awful for quite some time (it took me two years to get over it, tbh), but now looking back at it, in my mind i say thank you to that institute's manager for firing me because this showed me that teaching english never was and is my calling.
Also, during my final high school years, when i was learning english in a language institute, i failed a term and had to repeat it. I felt awful again because it was the second time i had done so and felt ashamed of myself (Now, i laugh at that version of myself who thought that failing a term for the second time is a highly shameful act). After i retook that term and passed, my next term was with the same teacher whose term i'd failed. Despite the fact that she was a strict teacher, she was also very kind-hearted like a mother figure. I don't know if she's alive or dead today after all the years that have passed, if she's alive i hope she's well. If she's dead, i say "RIP, MS. Pirzadeh".
A great example of a situation showing us what we really enjoy/don’t, even if in the moment it causes pain and our inclination is to hold onto it. I’m so glad this helped guide you towards your actual path. ✨
Yes, indeed. Especially my first experience made me realize that my calling's not teaching, but a mixture of art and literature (btw, i've been an artist for a few years. However, you won't find my name in any art magazine because i haven't showed my paintings anywhere. For now, you can see them in my Notes under the "Activity" section).
I was ready to leave my husband at the age of 72. This was not what he wanted. We agreed to give it 3 more months. For one thing, our 15 year old cat was dying. We nursed her together until she could no longer stand up and my husband took her to the vet to be euthanized. We have lost both cats and dogs in our time together and my husband would be sad for a day or two and then move on. This time was different. Ruby's death opened a long closed door in him going back to the death of his father when he was 4. He finally allowed himself to grieve. He stopped running from his feelings. It has taken me a bit to trust that this is a lasting change but I feel closer to him than I have in years. Thank you, Ruby. You were our beauty girl and our queen.
I went through ten months of debilitating, undiagnosed hip and glute pain in 2024. From that experience I learned what a community I have. People showed up with food, massage guns, tens machines, and a bunch of other items which didn't really help my physical situation but made me feel enormously cared for. People sent prayers, included me in their meditations and sent me distance Reiki treatments. I felt a bit like George Bailey -- "the richest man in town." I am glad to know about the support I have, I honestly don't think I would have recognized it otherwise.
I also have a deeper appreciation for chronic pain and the depths of it, the grief associated with its many losses, the many things it takes away from your life. I can now support other people going through this (and currently have a client dealing with a similar situation). These things are wonderful gifts. Gifts that we wouldn't wish on our worst enemies. But gifts we are glad to have, and to share with others via those powerful words "me too."
Sometimes though, the pain is so massive and unrelenting, that we don't get to live through to the other side of it. Had my pain not lifted, I would not have been able to go on. I know I am not alone. Those who choose to end their lives in this circumstance, who were maybe not privileged enough to find the "gifts" or the "good" on the other side of the pain should be acknowledged. Sometimes this is also the way, and the blessing being that we have things like MAID (medical assistance in dying) where people can choose the manner in which they end their suffering.
In 2021 our family couldn't afford to take a summer vacation. Gas prices were too high, covid scare still lingering. But then in September our house sprung a leak. The pipes hidden in the concrete slab started bubbling water up under the floorboards in the hall. We called in a contractor and they discovered also that the drainpipe to the tub had corroded away and water had been standing in a pool under the tub for a long time and there was mold in the walls of the bathroom and our bedroom. And also the roof had been leaking and there was mold in the walls of my children's rooms.
We had to evacuate our house. Pile almost all our possessions into a POD (thanks so much to all the scouts and homeschooling families who came to help us pack all our stuff!) while the contractors flood-cut the walls and ripped up the wall to wall carpeting and the faux-wooden floors. (The old nasty carpets we'd been dreaming of pulling up, but getting everyone and everything out of the house was too big a pain.)
Our insurance wanted to put us up in a hotel, two two-room suites for seven people for an indefinite period of time; but we did some research and found a rental house that cost less than the hotel and would give us much more room to spread out, plus a full kitchen. Amazingly our insurance agreed to pay for the VRBO. Then, while we waited for the insurance to approve the funding for a rental, a friend reached out and offered us his family's vacation home for two weeks. On Cape Cod. So we got our vacation after all. September is a little cool, but we waded along the beach, saw seals and gathered shells, and tried not to think about the house.
Then we moved to the VRBO. Which was again, just blocks from the beach, this time in Plymouth. We spent all of October and most of November in a beach house, walking on the beach most days. We had adventures including weathering a storm with hurricane-force winds.
If our house hadn't flooded, we'd never have been able to afford two months of living at the beach. It was awful and inconvenient at times, but it was also magnificent. Now tell me was the flood bad or good? We ended up with all new floors and new walls, all freshly painted. We had a long vacation in places we could never have given our kids. We just had to undergo some trauma and massive disruption in order to get there.
Absolutely loved this, Melanie. So glad you and your family had the beautiful weeks by the beach (and sorry about the leak—a drag, but what a turnaround) xx
I was in my second last semester of my master's program in Boston, far away from my family in small town Ontario. i was so elated to be approaching the finish line, my vision of the future was a blurry, shaking kaleidoscope of possibility. Then the unthinkable happened- I was visa non-compliant due to a fluke in the online self-service system. The international advisor didn't catch the dropped course in time, the school had already sent it's reports to ICE. Trump had just passed a new covid measure that all foreign students who were only taking online courses had to return to their home country, and they also couldn't get new visas if theirs was terminated. They had to terminate my visa. I had 21 days to leave. I had to break a new lease I had just signed, and give away everything I had spent the past three years collecting. Anything that couldn't fit into my 2 suitcases I had to leave behind. I was forced to take a 6-month leave of absence until in-person classes resumed. I was devastated. I felt like such a failure to be falling behind compared to my friends, who'd be graduating next semester. I felt I was leaving behind a life that I had spent so much time carefully curating, I felt I was travelling back in time- to go back to Canada, back to my childhood home, could only feel like a cruel regression. I ended up flying home on Jan 6th 2021- the day of the insurrection. I remember feeling that the day really couldn't get any worse.
Inevitably, after having spent the summer back at my family home, I returned to Boston to finish my degree. Not even 2 weeks after coming back, both of my parents were diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. I had to return home again to take care of them until their passing. My mom died 2 weeks after I returned home, and my father died 3 months after her. That 6 month period where I was forced to leave the country, that I thought had meant certain doom, was actually the last 6 months I spent with my parents when they were healthy. Pure, unfettered, joyous, rampant bliss. I was able to cook with my dad, go on trips with them, lounge by the pool, spend lazy summer days with them chatting and laughing and loving. Now, I would not give those 6 months up for anything. If I had remained in Boston and graduated 'on time', the next I would have seen my parents, they would already appear sick and dying, the chemo coursing through their bodies. Those 6 months are holy to me. A lasting memory. I can still hear my dad laughing at the barbeque, my mom wearing her crochet sunhat, waiting for whatever tasty food my dad was cooking. I was witness to much life in that small period.
This was so moving, Francis. Thank you so much for sharing it with us. I’m so glad you had that precious time with them. So glad. Sending huge hugs. 💛
What a treasured time...your account of your joy brought tears to my eyes.
Many years ago, we lost our business and home to a bankruptcy. We were bereft with nowhere to turn. A friend called and said he might know someone who could help us.
We met with him (on my birthday) he listened to our long, sad story and after we had talked for several hours, he sat back in his chair and said I will help you. He bought a home we chose. We paid interest only, did the things he told us to regain good credit. In three years, he got us a mortgage, not taking any money from us at all.
A man that had been a client at our business gave us a truck because he knew my husband had lost his in the bankruptcy. When we went back a few months later to pay him, he cried and said he never expected payment.
I am a firm believer in angels that come knocking. Open the door! Open the door!
Then, when able, be that angel for someone else.
Kathleen
This is so beautiful, Kathleen. I absolutely love, "Then, when able, be that angel for someone else." THANK YOU.
It's still such an improbable story and hard to believe it all happened. But we were truly cared for by strangers in our midst...how could you not believe in angels.
In November 2023, I was diagnosed with a serious form of oral cancer. I went through seven months of difficult treatment, but I came out the other side and am in remission. There were several good things that came out of that experience. The thing that affected my life the most was that I quit drinking alcohol. Because I felt so much better not drinking alcohol I started exercising regularly. My gratitude for every moment of life has deepen and I try to bring joy to others as much as I can.
Oh, I'm so glad you're ok, Karen, and yes, I've heard that from SO many who quit alcohol, that however much or little they drank, it improved things in one way or another. And I admire your exercise routine--that's on my list, too, for 2025. xoxo
Funny you should mention it, I just wrote a book with this as the underline theme. In fact I quote your wound is the origin of wonder, Maya. The book's called Go On With It. Maybe one day it will see the light of day.
!!!!!!!!
So many examples of this in my life. A recent one, in late 2021, a sudden severe (and seemingly chronic) illness precipitated a job change a few months later from a place I had been at for my whole career. I’m super resistant to change so leaving this employer was never part of my plan and the situation was super scary (and depressing) at the time. Now, not only am I so grateful for the opportunity that came up & that I took it, but also I realize I probably never would have made the leap if it were not for my illness at the time. three years in, I have been at a way better job where I have been able to work a third of the hours at the same pay as my previous employer, and in a almost entirely remote work situation . the reduction in stress and workload has not only improved my quality of life overall, but I believe has been a contributing factor in my health issue improving almost completely over that time.
Thank you so much for sharing, Claire. Yes, the universe is often wiser than we are, isn’t it. 💛
I think the way we hold space for this question determines the level of presence we bring to whatever “good” or expansive opportunities may be presenting themselves thru the challenge. The hidden gifts. The hard but character building moments. For me a single story (out of a lifetime of these) was early in my career as a human being, having just dropped out of highschool (shite waste of time) to read a newspaper’s list of the top 100 books to raise your moral consciousness and to backpack. The first night out on my first trip I was attacked by a bear (I had tons of cooked food just stuffed into every crevice) and spent the night shivering and weeping in a latrine. At dawn I hiked out, my back in shreds, my hope and sense of myself even more so. I also had 7$ left to my name, which I had intended on using for gas home. I drove to the nearest station, but couldn’t pull up to the pump. I sat on the curb and wept in pity for myself and my predicament. A man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere (but this a true story) and had a long silvery braid, and in my memory seemed to be wearing strangely old timey clothes. He asked me why I was crying on such a pretty day. I had yet to tell anyone my tale of woe. I told him, in giant heaving sobs, ending with, “I’m crying because I WAS ATTACKED BY A BEAR.” Mic drop. Big finish. It is an understatement to say I did not expect him to laugh. And then to howl with mirth. As if I just told the punchline of the century, delivered with aplomb. When he finally dried his tears, and let the laughter spasms die down (I am not exaggerating, the man was nearly undone by this joke of a story, apparently.). Luckily I was too tired to have run away from what clearly was a psychotic response. I was also too in shock to respond in real time to anything. So when he pulled a thing of spearmint floss from his pocket and tossed it onto my backpack and said the now fabled words, “you’re not the kind of girl to let a little ol’ bear attack stop you, are you?” And walked away, I was too in shock to either agree or disagree. Is it good? Is it bad? I did spend my last 7 dollars on junk food, sewed the damn pack up with the floss and went backpacking in those same woods for 3 days and 3 nights. 30 years later I am still living his question.
An amazing story. Thank you so much for sharing this with us!!!!!
Thanks for asking beautiful questions
“No mud, no lotus.”
Let me take you back to Christmas 1989. I had a bad skiing accident and blew out my left knee. Surgical repair early in January 1990, followed by 2 more surgeries that year and a lot of physical therapy left me upright and walking but not much more. I had been a serious recreational runner and weekend rock climber and the life I knew was in shambles. In January 1991 I hired a coach to help me get back into shape so I could return to running and climbing. He suggested that I begin a meditation practice — something I’d been curious about but never tried. Over the next two years that meditation practice deepened into a serious zen practice which led me to a wonderful teacher and ultimately changed my life. What I’m sharing is that the ski accident that up ended my life as I knew it led me to a spiritual practice that has been the solid foundation of my life ever since. So most definitely something that was genuinely terrible at first created the space for something extraordinary to happen.
Wow, I love this, Laura. I really do believe that the universe guides us towards the teachers, individuals, and practices that will lead to our greatest fulfillment. This is an example of that. Much love. 💛
We don’t know enough
to call it quits and give up.
faith improves our odds.
In January 2019 I had to have a vaccination against yellow fever, ahead of a working trip to Ethiopia (which never happened). For those who have not had it, it's a VERY heavy process, with a consultation beforehand and then the signing of a release form that accepts that this jab may kill me.
A few weeks later, mild discomfort throughout my torso turned into unbearable nerve pain, front, back and sides, collar bones to waist, that lasted nearly a month, that even liquid morphine barely touched, and that incapacitated me to the point where I couldn't walk. I live alone. There was no way. So I went back to my Mum's house, and she took care of me.
In those 3-4 weeks, I got a really deep insight into how my Mum lived, day to day. The laughter she brought. The friends who loved her. Her light touch in every moment. Her permanently sunny disposition, even when things were tough. I wrote her a poem, encapsulating everything I wanted to say to her.
It was a true privilege to share that space with her. And it was to be my last opportunity. Two months later, she died.
The illness (later diagnosed as Gillaine-Barre Syndrome, an auto-immune disease that, yes, could have killed me) was the worst I've ever had, and I am so grateful to have gone through that as I got to spend nearly a month with my lovely Mum in her home territory, which was such a blessing.
Two years later, the fact I have GBS on my health record allowed me to get an exemption from the experimental Covid shots (which I'd never have taken in any case). It truly is the gift that keeps on giving.
I’m so glad you survived that horrible side effect and that you got to appreciate your mother so fully. This is so beautiful and complex. I hope you read the other stories here, because yours resonates with some of the others. Thank you so much for sharing with me. 💛
After years of mysterious symptoms, last year I was diagnosed with several chronic illnesses. I still have a hard time understanding that this is me and my story, that I actually have these things, but there it is. In order to manage the limited energy that I have and continue to participate in family life as a mother of a small child (among other things), I have had to slow down. Not like how I thought slowing down would look, like accomplishing half of my to do list instead of all of it. But like really really really slowing down. Saying no to things I otherwise might like to do, like trips to visit my family or lunches with my in-laws, and to things that I might not, like driving my son to one more extracurricular activity. Saying no to big ideas of things I wanted to accomplish. Saying no to concepts of where I ought to be in my life by now. And saying yes, quietly, to just being here with whatever is happening now.
I love how you’ve managed to turn this into an exercise in presence, saying yes to the now. Beautiful, Tara. 💛
About a decade ago my thirty year marriage ended very painfully. A friend at the time told me I had been given a ‘gift’ by my ex husband. I was as raw as an uncooked egg for sometime but when I felt like being cooked by the world again I discovered - poetry, new friends, art, a husband and his family. I walked across mountains and cycled by the sea. I found me.
Love this so much, Estelle. You no doubt are speaking to others who are going through the same thing at the moment. Thank you so much for sharing. x
During early covid era, i got a job teaching english to teens in a language institute. Although i got fired from that job after 3 months, i felt awful for quite some time (it took me two years to get over it, tbh), but now looking back at it, in my mind i say thank you to that institute's manager for firing me because this showed me that teaching english never was and is my calling.
Also, during my final high school years, when i was learning english in a language institute, i failed a term and had to repeat it. I felt awful again because it was the second time i had done so and felt ashamed of myself (Now, i laugh at that version of myself who thought that failing a term for the second time is a highly shameful act). After i retook that term and passed, my next term was with the same teacher whose term i'd failed. Despite the fact that she was a strict teacher, she was also very kind-hearted like a mother figure. I don't know if she's alive or dead today after all the years that have passed, if she's alive i hope she's well. If she's dead, i say "RIP, MS. Pirzadeh".
A great example of a situation showing us what we really enjoy/don’t, even if in the moment it causes pain and our inclination is to hold onto it. I’m so glad this helped guide you towards your actual path. ✨
Yes, indeed. Especially my first experience made me realize that my calling's not teaching, but a mixture of art and literature (btw, i've been an artist for a few years. However, you won't find my name in any art magazine because i haven't showed my paintings anywhere. For now, you can see them in my Notes under the "Activity" section).
I was ready to leave my husband at the age of 72. This was not what he wanted. We agreed to give it 3 more months. For one thing, our 15 year old cat was dying. We nursed her together until she could no longer stand up and my husband took her to the vet to be euthanized. We have lost both cats and dogs in our time together and my husband would be sad for a day or two and then move on. This time was different. Ruby's death opened a long closed door in him going back to the death of his father when he was 4. He finally allowed himself to grieve. He stopped running from his feelings. It has taken me a bit to trust that this is a lasting change but I feel closer to him than I have in years. Thank you, Ruby. You were our beauty girl and our queen.
Beautiful, Barbara. Thank you. x
I went through ten months of debilitating, undiagnosed hip and glute pain in 2024. From that experience I learned what a community I have. People showed up with food, massage guns, tens machines, and a bunch of other items which didn't really help my physical situation but made me feel enormously cared for. People sent prayers, included me in their meditations and sent me distance Reiki treatments. I felt a bit like George Bailey -- "the richest man in town." I am glad to know about the support I have, I honestly don't think I would have recognized it otherwise.
I also have a deeper appreciation for chronic pain and the depths of it, the grief associated with its many losses, the many things it takes away from your life. I can now support other people going through this (and currently have a client dealing with a similar situation). These things are wonderful gifts. Gifts that we wouldn't wish on our worst enemies. But gifts we are glad to have, and to share with others via those powerful words "me too."
Sometimes though, the pain is so massive and unrelenting, that we don't get to live through to the other side of it. Had my pain not lifted, I would not have been able to go on. I know I am not alone. Those who choose to end their lives in this circumstance, who were maybe not privileged enough to find the "gifts" or the "good" on the other side of the pain should be acknowledged. Sometimes this is also the way, and the blessing being that we have things like MAID (medical assistance in dying) where people can choose the manner in which they end their suffering.
Thank you so much, Jennifer, for sharing this. Your strength is inspiring, and your gratitude and compassion even more so. 💛
"The Man in Bogota" is such an amazing story!! Wowowow. Thanks for sharing.