What are you doing here between the promised and the forgotten,
Between the hoped for and the imagined?
— Yehuda Amichai, from “Lying in Wait for Happiness,” Poems of Jerusalem & Love Poems (Sheep Meadow Press, 1992)
“The past is already in debt to the mismanaged present. And besides, contrary to what you may have heard or learned, the past is not done and it is not over, it’s still in process, which is another way of saying that when it’s critiqued, analyzed, it yields new information about itself. The past is already changing as it is being reexamined, as it is being listened to for deeper resonances. Actually it can be more liberating than any imagined future if you are willing to identify its evasions, its distortions, its lies, and are willing to unleash its secrets.”
(via Molten Soul)
We are imperfect mortal beings, aware of that mortality even as we push it away, failed by our very complication, so wired that when we mourn our losses we also mourn, for better or for worse, ourselves. As we were. As we are no longer. As we will one day not be at all.
—Joan Didion | The Year of Magical Thinking
(via Now, You See Me)
This rings so true for me in the wake of T’s death. There is nothing like a person’s passing, especially when that passing is unexpected to make you reflect on the past. I will miss T more than I can say, but either alongside or wholly part of that is missing the way being in T’s presence, laughing and joking and chatting and being welcomed back home by him, made me feel. Reading everyone’s words in memory of him, the experiences they’ve had with him that left impressions on them, has sent me into tears no fewer than 5 times in the past week. We will never be as we were in those moments again. I am going to his funeral tomorrow where I will sob with the loss, and that will be one thing. But I already know that at Reunions, I will struggle to find the courage to walk into the kitchen, and I cannot imagine anything other than being reduced to tears by all that I won’t find there, all that is no longer.
We are like children building a sand castle. We embellish it with beautiful shells, bits of driftwood, and pieces of colored glass. The castle is ours, off limits to others. We’re willing to attack if others threaten to hurt it. Yet despite all our attachment, we know that the tide will inevitably come in and sweep the sand castle away. The trick is to enjoy it fully but without clinging, and when the time comes, let it dissolve back into the sea.
—Pema Chödrön, When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times
(via My Found Polyamory)
Do the things you used to talk about doing but never did. Know when to let go and when to hold on tight. Stop rushing. Don’t be intimidated to say it like it is. Stop apologizing all the time. Learn to say no, so your yes has some oomph. Spend time with the friends who lift you up, and cut loose the ones who bring you down. Stop giving your power away. Be more concerned with being interested than being interesting. Be old enough to appreciate your freedom, and young enough to enjoy it. Finally know who you are.
(via Circassian Beauty)
Are we living a life that is safe from harm? Of course not. We never are. But that’s not the right question. The question is: are we living a life that is worth the harm?
–Welcome to Night Vale
(via My Found Polyamory)
me: *dissociates for no reason at all and spends the whole day zoned out, emotionless and unable to focus*
me: this is fine
(via Heben Nigatu)
^This has been me for a few intense days at a time off and on for at least the past year (though “emotionless could be replaced with “consistently on the verge of tears”). It’s not fine. At the strong suggestion of a few of the people closest to me in life, I am seeing a therapist for the first time next week to talk about the degree to which I feel aimless and disconnected when I am not actively spending time with other people and how to find things to do outside of my relationship and friendships and job that are fulfilling. I’m a little bit scared at the idea, but something’s gotta change, and since my insurance covers it with a teeny tiny co-pay (#privilege), fear alone is no reason not to try this. I try not to talk myself out of self-care, and I need to retrain myself to think of speaking with a mental health professional as something anyone can do to take care of their emotional selves.
Don’t look for peace. Don’t look for any other state than the one you are in now; otherwise, you will set up inner conflict and unconscious resistance. Forgive yourself for not being at peace. The moment you completely accept your non-peace, your non-peace becomes transmuted into peace. Anything you accept fully will get you there, will take you into peace. This is the miracle of surrender.
(via Hey Fran Hey)