“The truth is — genuine connection is ease. It is peace. When you find it you will know. You will feel seen, you will feel like you are being mirrored back to yourself, like you are discovering the shadow of your own heart in another human being.

Slowly, through loving the right people, you will come to realize that the human beings who are meant for you in this world will not exhaust you, or hollow you out, or leave you feeling like you are hard to love. Slowly, you will come to realize that you do not have to romanticize the things in this life that hurt. You do not have to run towards the fire. Love does not have to feel like a fight, does not have to feel like battle, does not have to wound.

Slowly, you will learn how to lay down your arms. How to walk away from those who will only ever love you in halves. Slowly, you will learn that you cannot love someone into loving you, or being ready, if they are not. You cannot love someone into their potential. You cannot close their hands around your heart if they are not willing to hold it themselves. You have to let them go. You have to focus on the people in your life who bring you back home to yourself. You have to focus on standing up for that kind of connection, on honoring that calm, because it exists. It exists.

And I hope you learn to trust that, because when you come across it, when you ultimately experience it, it feels as if you are standing at a door you finally have the keys for. You enter it with ease. There is no fumbling through your jacket pocket trying to find the right way in. There is no desperately reaching into your bag trying to uncover the point of access. You are no longer banging your fists against the door, asking to be invited in. You walk through. Soundlessly. Softly. Relief washes over you. You take off your shoes. You hang your coat in the closet. You put on a pot of coffee. You’re home. You’re home.”

Bianca Sparacino

Discovering that the last book that made me cry is being made into a movie, has got to be the best surprise I’ve received this year. November 2nd cannot come soon enough!

“It scales better than competitiveness, frustration, pettiness, regret, revenge, merit (whatever that means) or apathy. Kindness ratchets up. It leads to more kindness. It can create trust and openness and truth and enthusiasm and patience and possibility.

Kindness, in one word, is a business model, an approach to strangers and a platform for growth.It might take more effort than you were hoping it would, but it’s worth it.”

– Seth Godin

“Sometimes I just want it to stop. Talk of COVID, looting, brutality. I lose my way. I become convinced that this “new normal” is real life. Then I meet an 87-year-old who talks of living through polio, diphtheria, Vietnam protest and yet is still enchanted with life.

He seemed surprised when I said that 2020 must be especially challenging for him. “no,” he said slowly, looking me straight in the eyes. “I learned a long time ago to not see the world through the printed headlines, I see the world through the people that surround me- I see the world with the realization that we love big. Therefore, I just choose to write my own headlines:

“Husband loves wife today.” “Family drops everything to come to Grandma’s bedside.” He patted my hand. “Old man makes new friend.” His words collided with my worries, freeing them from the tether I had been holding tight. They float away. I am left with a renewed spirit and a new way to write my own headlines.”

by Andy Stanley

Intimacy of crying in front of you.

Intimacy of singing (badly) at the top of my lungs while road tripping.

Intimacy of driving with you in the car, exposing my subjectively bad driving skills.

Intimacy of sharing meals and letting you see me eat freely, no pretense.

Intimacy of letting you know the foods I do not eat.

Intimacy of discussing a book together.

Intimacy of letting you know what my favorite movies are, no matter how childish.

Intimacy of letting you see my camera roll.

Intimacy of letting you hear the most-played songs on my Spotify account.

Intimacy of letting you see me sleep.

Intimacy of having you over in my house, of seeing the inside of my bathroom, of seeing my messy kitchen.

Intimacy of the unladylike laughs that resemble snoring more than anything else.

Intimacy of talking about our views of money.

Intimacy of recognizing your handwriting.

Intimacy of cooking for you.

Intimacy of talking about our childhoods.

Intimacy of doing grocery shopping together.

.

…funny how intimacy has been reduced to sex, when clearly there’s so much more that makes us tingle, that sends shivers through our spine, that weakens our legs.

I often think about giving up. Admittedly, today I started my day wanting to give up.

Not on life—no need to panic there—but I am constantly tired of always swimming against the current. I am tired of being resilient. I am tired of life seeming uphill more often than not. When I reflect on it, I believe it’s because I overexert myself. I go full speed, I take no breaks, I put my life on hold, which every now and then leads me to a point where I get frustrated, tired and resentful.

A few months ago, I received a promotion. And it has been exhausting.

Netflix recently launched a series called The Chair, staring Sandra Oh. The series explores the life of Dr. Ji-Yoon Kim, a professor who’s been newly named Chair of the English Department at the fictional Pembroke University, an elite college. In her new role, we see Ji-Yoon struggle to meet the demands of her new position, her role as mother, as a friend, and as a woman. In one of the episodes, she has to make it to a meeting so she drops her kid with her dad, who complains that her family barely gets to see her anymore. Frustrated, Ji-Yoon says: “Appa, I don’t know what you want me to do. This is for my job!” Her dad says “I thought this promotion means you don’t have to work so much.” To which Ji-Yoon wisely replies: “What promotion ever means you don’t have to work as much?”

Right?! When will work ever become easier?

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago, when I had to pull an all-nighter to stay afloat with work and I had a pounding headache that it dawned on me that life is not supposed to be like this. Life cannot be spent working 15-hours days. And you might think, umm that should be kind of obvious… well, yeah. I knew that I was working too much, that it was not a healthy lifestyle, but it never got through me how bad was the situation I found myself in.

So there I sat, at 7:30AM, having not slept at all, having to take a shower to dial into my “first” meeting of the day, feeling tired, frustrated, guilty and extremely mad. And I knew something had to change.

It was as if the universe had heard my unspoken pain and my unheard complaints that I found a book recommendation by Luisa Weiss: “Burnout” by Emily Nagoski PhD and  Amelia Nagoski DMA. The term burnout was first established in 1975 by Hebert Freudenberger, a condition that encompasses emotional exhaustion, depersonalization, and decreased sense of accomplishment.

I am burnout, and it’ll take time to recover from it. I have found myself needing to take a step back and redefine the important and non-negotiable things in life. I am taking time to find my meaning in life. I am taking time to examine what I want my future to look like. I am determined to savour the days of work, but also the weekends, and the evenings. I am excited to broaden my interests and to go back to one of the things that I love doing the most… classes.

Realizing you’ve made a mistake quiet.

Saying something hurtful and immediately regretting it quiet.

Not able to understand someone’s pain quiet.

Walking at 6 AM on sidewalks whose pillowy snow has been untouched quiet.

Finishing the last page of a book quiet.

The instant after having been told “I love you” quiet.

Failing at something quiet.

Receiving a ‘no’ when hoping for a ‘yes’ quiet.

Being the last person to exit the room quiet.

Internal struggle to gather the courage to be brave quiet.

The moment after saying a prayer quiet.

Getting lost in your thoughts quiet.

Getting lost in music quiet.

Of  all sights, my sisters laughing. Of  all smells, an old book. Of  all surfaces, a warm hand.
Of all feelings, belonging.
Of  all sweet sounds, children laughing.
Of  all my journeys, the self-knowledge one.
Of  all other journeys, Spring City.
Of  cities, Provo. Of  modes of  transport, trains.
Of   the neglected virtues, quietness. Of   the celebrated, kindness.
Of   the harmless vices, burgers.
Of  solitary vices, a long warm bath.
Of   the social pastimes, watching a movie at home.
Of all the fruits, apple. Of all pies, apple.
Of  all that delights the cultivated mind, reading a book.
Of  all jokes, the silly ones.
Of  practical jokes, stealing children’s noses.
Of  all of  Job’s afflictions, losing friends.
Of   beverages, fresh orange juice.
Of  ingenious devices, kindles.
Of   the proofs of God’s love, mothers.
Of all character’s flaws, selfishness and entitlement.
Of   the forgotten sins, laziness.
Of   the erotic side-pleasures, smiling.
Of  domesticated creatures, dogs.
Of  all times, Christmas. Of  all fears, the unknown, the uncertainty.
Of  sweet sounds to wake to, rain. Of  all places, home.

Inspired by the brilliant Abby Rasminsky. Who in turn, was inspired by Maurice Riordan.