'Not all help is skiillful but it is all love.' I feel that intensely right not with my mom's slipping memory. Sending love for your journey with your husband. You've mobilized so many with your journey.
When I was born in the way back when, I suffered from childhood asthma and the accompanying allergies: no dairy, no nuts, susceptible to dust, changes in the weather, pollen, eggs, I could go on. I hated my vulnerability; I hated that other parents and teachers had to know so I wouldn't accidentally ingest something that could kill me. I hated my weakness; I hated the care I needed. I hated, in a word my--in a word--vulnerability. My four brothers were hale and healthy and didn't need any special attention, which made it worse. Now my allergies have lessened; some have even disappeared. But the possible presence of any help still triggers me. I prefer to do things myself, and when I can't I sometimes get anxious and angry and ashamed at what feels like my incompetence. I'm glad to support other people, but accepting support is much harder. I feel, I think, the inadequacy your friend felt, the sense of being at other people's mercy. Help often arrived accompanied by irritation from others, proof of my weakness. I still don't often know what to do with that. I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say here. Maybe only that help is easier for me to give than receive. And I want so badly to come out the other side. I guess the problem is, I need help with needing help, and that's not a good way to live. I'm glad for you that you've crossed that river.
Oh Miguel, I am fording the river. Not on the other side. Our society instills the value of independence. It does not teach us the joy of interconnectedness — not even sure that’s a word. We have to unlearn a lot. Thanks for being here.
If "interconnectedness" isn't a word, it ought to be. So I'm just going to operate on the idea that it is. "Independence" in the way we present it in this country simply doesn't make any sense. There are too many things that need to be done well that we can't do individually, or even in groups or industries. We need each other, but we're encouraged to pretend that we don't. And it damages us collectively and individually.
Hugs to you, dear Coach. What a dark road. But you shine a light to everyone coming behind you. Love the picture of young Elizabeth. Fierce!
So grateful to know you, dear Mallika.
'Not all help is skiillful but it is all love.' I feel that intensely right not with my mom's slipping memory. Sending love for your journey with your husband. You've mobilized so many with your journey.
Thank you so much, Ashley. I send you a warm hug as you navigate losing your mom.
When I was born in the way back when, I suffered from childhood asthma and the accompanying allergies: no dairy, no nuts, susceptible to dust, changes in the weather, pollen, eggs, I could go on. I hated my vulnerability; I hated that other parents and teachers had to know so I wouldn't accidentally ingest something that could kill me. I hated my weakness; I hated the care I needed. I hated, in a word my--in a word--vulnerability. My four brothers were hale and healthy and didn't need any special attention, which made it worse. Now my allergies have lessened; some have even disappeared. But the possible presence of any help still triggers me. I prefer to do things myself, and when I can't I sometimes get anxious and angry and ashamed at what feels like my incompetence. I'm glad to support other people, but accepting support is much harder. I feel, I think, the inadequacy your friend felt, the sense of being at other people's mercy. Help often arrived accompanied by irritation from others, proof of my weakness. I still don't often know what to do with that. I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say here. Maybe only that help is easier for me to give than receive. And I want so badly to come out the other side. I guess the problem is, I need help with needing help, and that's not a good way to live. I'm glad for you that you've crossed that river.
Oh Miguel, I am fording the river. Not on the other side. Our society instills the value of independence. It does not teach us the joy of interconnectedness — not even sure that’s a word. We have to unlearn a lot. Thanks for being here.
If "interconnectedness" isn't a word, it ought to be. So I'm just going to operate on the idea that it is. "Independence" in the way we present it in this country simply doesn't make any sense. There are too many things that need to be done well that we can't do individually, or even in groups or industries. We need each other, but we're encouraged to pretend that we don't. And it damages us collectively and individually.