The Amanda Knox analogy is striking and I applaud you for using the comparison from someone so young. I have enjoyed all your writing you have shared of all your different struggles and finding ways to cope. You are amazing. Thank you.
This is so important...for myself it’s a oractice of embracing the circumstances as they are and asking what the moment calls for. One of the greatest prayers I say is “God teach me to love the life I have” screw the greener grass over there. Teach me to love this life here and now. It’s the only way to traverse liminal space.
What beautiful words she speaks. And you too. I also wrestle with this question as my health has made it difficult to do all that I would like to do. Seeking value from each day is actually a beautiful way to live, irrespective of circumstances.
Man! How can I make my DAY worth living, rather than how can I make my LIFE worth living sure takes the pressure off. A DAY plan seems manageable, whereas a LIFE plan is a bit daunting. (Thus the AA practice of One Day at a Time.) An unusual source for you, but ideas are often found in the least likely places. Thank you for another practical insight, Janice.
What a treasure of a piece today, Janice. As you might guess, I can relate. Being a widow brings on whole rafts of emotions I wasn't prepared for, including happiness! There are times when I wake up happy and I think I shouldn't, and then I remember times with Ed when we were both happy and it seems okay.
Amanda's words here really resonated:
"It was a sadness brimming with energy beneath the surface because I was alive with myself and my sanity, and the freeing feeling of seeing reality clearly, however sad that reality was."
And so did yours:
"Dan asked me to marry him on March 26th, 63 years ago. We built a life together, and I’ve agonized over how to make my life worthwhile without him. Having a new passion and purpose - that includes him in a way - is undoubtedly part of the equation, but how do I get through the day?"
We both had fulfilling marriages, which, to some, should make this even sadder, but I think it's just the opposite. I think so many years of good memories has a tendency to drown out some of the grief. As I'm remembering, I can't help but smile. Sometimes through tears, but they're healing tears.
Thank you for sharing! I will remember what Amanda Knox and yourself point out: how do I make the now count?
This a poignant piece of writing, Janice, full of self-awareness, and an abundance of hope ❤️
The Amanda Knox analogy is striking and I applaud you for using the comparison from someone so young. I have enjoyed all your writing you have shared of all your different struggles and finding ways to cope. You are amazing. Thank you.
This is so important...for myself it’s a oractice of embracing the circumstances as they are and asking what the moment calls for. One of the greatest prayers I say is “God teach me to love the life I have” screw the greener grass over there. Teach me to love this life here and now. It’s the only way to traverse liminal space.
A beautiful piece of writing that is filled with meaning
I enjoy your posts Janice. Always get something from them. 👏
What beautiful words she speaks. And you too. I also wrestle with this question as my health has made it difficult to do all that I would like to do. Seeking value from each day is actually a beautiful way to live, irrespective of circumstances.
Man! How can I make my DAY worth living, rather than how can I make my LIFE worth living sure takes the pressure off. A DAY plan seems manageable, whereas a LIFE plan is a bit daunting. (Thus the AA practice of One Day at a Time.) An unusual source for you, but ideas are often found in the least likely places. Thank you for another practical insight, Janice.
What a treasure of a piece today, Janice. As you might guess, I can relate. Being a widow brings on whole rafts of emotions I wasn't prepared for, including happiness! There are times when I wake up happy and I think I shouldn't, and then I remember times with Ed when we were both happy and it seems okay.
Amanda's words here really resonated:
"It was a sadness brimming with energy beneath the surface because I was alive with myself and my sanity, and the freeing feeling of seeing reality clearly, however sad that reality was."
And so did yours:
"Dan asked me to marry him on March 26th, 63 years ago. We built a life together, and I’ve agonized over how to make my life worthwhile without him. Having a new passion and purpose - that includes him in a way - is undoubtedly part of the equation, but how do I get through the day?"
We both had fulfilling marriages, which, to some, should make this even sadder, but I think it's just the opposite. I think so many years of good memories has a tendency to drown out some of the grief. As I'm remembering, I can't help but smile. Sometimes through tears, but they're healing tears.
Ever onward, dear friend, every onward.