Yesterday I called a friend whose husband died two months ago after years of numerous and serious medical problems. When I asked how she was doing, she said, “I’m going to be candid with you. I’m relieved.” I understood, all too well, what she meant. I also wondered if there are those who might judge her and find her truthful admission to be shocking and inappropriate? If so perhaps it’s because they haven’t been there… or maybe they’re not allowing themselves to be honest.
It doesn’t mean we don’t love and miss them. Just that we’re relieved… for both of us… that it is over.
I’m a person who values the idea of having a margin. I like to have money in the bank, free time in my calendar and energy to deal with life’s crises. As someone still in healing mode, after an abusive dating relationship left me with PTSD, it just takes a tiny thing to break me some days.
I don’t have the bandwidth to be late for an appointment or to run out of gas.
Right now we’re in a season of busy and although it’s a good busy, the margins are thinner than I’d like. On Halloween, this proved to be traumatic. Continue Reading
I give this advice in my new book, Sick and Tired & Sexy: Living Beautifully with Chronic Illness: “Never go out of the house when you aren’t presentable.” That doesn’t mean dressed to the nines–I’m a blue jean girl, after all–but it does mean hair brushed, sunscreen on, eyebrows filled in and a touch of mascara and lipgloss. What are we talking here, five minutes? And yet, there are days when I… just…can’t. I feel like there’s not enough air in the air. What’s a woman to do? Well, for most of you, you’d probably be ill if you felt like this, so the thing to do would be call in sick and crawl back in bed, knowing you’ll feel better tomorrow.
If, like me, you are one of the approximately 65-million women who live with chronic illnesses, you look at your schedule and prioritize, apologize, and reschedule.
I love Caroline Leavitt’s novels. Not only are they very readable and filled with fully-rounded, memorable characters, but they also impart all of the wisdom of a good self-help book. Leavitt’s soon-to-be-released book, Cruel Beautiful World (available for pre-order), is a skilled observation of the interplay of grief, healing, and love. Below are some of the quotes that stayed with me, long after I’d finished the book, as well as the lessons I took from them.
Wabi-sabi is a lovely Japanese concept – the appreciation of the beauty found in imperfection and an understanding of the transient nature of things. Wabi refers to the rustic simplicity of a thing, and Sabi refers to the beauty and peacefulness that comes with its aging. It also refers to an object’s patina and visible repairs.
There is even an art form in Japan called Kintsugi, in which valued pottery is repaired with gold.