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    Run For Your Life, Black Hockey Jesus!
    Main | To Do »


    “For what is despair but stasis in the presence of loss?” —SM

    The next time you leave the house, ask yourself: How do I go from inside to out? Watch what happens with a careful eye. So enclosed and then through and then wide open sky. There’s no time to bicker about God, absolutes, or the right thing to do. Who could possibly care when there are doors to walk through? We have so much to learn from emergence.

    Coming and going, generally. Yeah. And those interesting spaces between. Seamless? Infinite? Oh, these words. If I could only wash my hands of them.

    Thirteen nights, comings, and thirteen mornings, goings. But, God, how I willed those mornings to stay, for rooms without doors. But gone was always coming. You were walking out the door before you walked in. We are always already these piles of forgetful bones.

    And so now, 6 billion times a day, as moments arise with love letters and fall with suicide notes, it occurs to me that love cannot possibly be this silly wail of huddled clinging. The only way to truly love you, to love it all, is to embrace and appreciate loss. To fling the door open, walk through, and wrap my arms around the empty sky in which you so recently perfectly fit.


    Reader Comments (13)

    I love the song.
    Maybe this doesn't fit, but you made me think of it.

    April 22, 2011 at 10:01 AM | Unregistered Commentermisty

    Amen. And .

    April 22, 2011 at 10:02 AM | Unregistered CommenterTracy

    It's a lovely picture, Misty. Thanks for showing me.

    April 22, 2011 at 10:04 AM | Unregistered CommenterBHJ

    Sorry - that was supposed to go here: .php#!/notes/pema-chodron/start-where-you-are/10150158969211428

    April 22, 2011 at 10:05 AM | Unregistered CommenterTracy

    Thanks for the link, Tracy. Someone just sent me a Pema Chodron book but I haven't got it yet.. Synchronicity.

    April 22, 2011 at 10:06 AM | Unregistered CommenterBHJ

    Now I've added another artist to my Pandora stations. If nothing else, at least you introduce me to some good musicians with this here blog.

    April 22, 2011 at 1:08 PM | Unregistered Commentermuskrat

    that song is amazing.

    the whole thing combined feels simultaneously vast and minute. like being.

    each moment is all, and everything strung together makes a whole.

    this gave me the happy-sads. in a gut way.

    April 22, 2011 at 3:52 PM | Unregistered Commentera work in progress

    I have so much to say about this, I don't even know where to start. Sorry there is so much pain. I can feel that nerve-ending, crackling hot pain. So sorry...

    April 22, 2011 at 5:14 PM | Unregistered CommenterLisa

    Downloading Great Lake Swimmers now-may take weeks at the rate my computer is running, but I think it will definately be worth the wait!

    April 22, 2011 at 9:24 PM | Unregistered Commenterholly

    At the beginning of this week I was pretty sure everything was done.

    Today, I'm just waiting, moving along bit by tiny bit. Not what I'm used to, not what I like, but what's necessary.

    Here's hoping that all necessaries aren't evil, and that the paint outside this corner dries fucking soon, because I'm not one for being cornered. I'll just leave prints and messes be damned.

    April 23, 2011 at 7:55 AM | Unregistered CommenterJett

    Your words make me...i don't even know - sometimes dream, sometimes cry, always wow. I dreamt one night of falling, blazing hunks of stars and planets, flailing through cracks near our heads while I was telling my friend about the amazament that is the neal post -
    i woke up in the morning thinking I should share with you, whether ego exalting or not, the strange beauty of repeating your words in my dream. That was weeks ago.
    and now this.

    April 23, 2011 at 10:11 PM | Unregistered Commenterjenn

    that was like the perfect Good Friday Buddhist post.

    also one of the most beautiful things about loss i've read.

    April 24, 2011 at 11:52 AM | Unregistered CommenterBon

    The last sentence. That's the one that really got me.

    April 25, 2011 at 8:20 AM | Unregistered CommenterSlow Panic

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