How the Light Gets In
“Start again,” I heard them say, “Don’t dwell on what has passed away or what is yet to be.” — Leonard Cohen
Widows Speak Up
We widows and other bereaved folks who cannot get past our losses fear being unhappy the rest of our lives.
No matter how hard I held on, or what the doctors did, this disease was a roiling, heaving event greater than us.
When the basis of one or more habits decays or disappears, we discover we don’t know who we are any more.
Hour of Lead
Unfortunately, we don’t get to choose the means of our transitions and transformations. What changes us is proportionate to our own nature.
Wouldn’t it be nice if things just took care of themselves, did their jobs, worked as programmed? Wouldn’t it be nice if things just went as planned?
Attending to the Vision
In this great pilgrimage of life, we land in darkness before long, and sometimes it’s a darkness so great we can’t see the hands in front of our faces. We wonder if we even have hands, or feet.
The flannel shirts I’ve seen on my husband and on working men in my dreams are speaking. I see the flannel shirt. I can feel its fabric in my hands, and I’m driving down the street in the rain and suddenly I’m crying. I can’t stop the tears.
Fear is the Mind-Killer
Now that I have been a widow for a year and a half, I’ve been reminded yet again about how fragile life is, and more specifically how fragile I am. I am a limited resource, living on limited resources.
Hello, Traveler. As you make your way along life’s tumultuous highways, it’s important to note that you should always carry a map, have plenty of fuel in the tank, and take frequent rest stops.