Oh Susie. This is simply beautiful. Your conversation with Jonah. Such a microcosm of what is needed in the world. I had a dream of saying to Glen, my son, "The miracle of existence. The miracle of existence." And despite all, this feels true to me 100 times a day.
I so enjoy your posts, Susie. It is not possible that I will live into my 80’s or even into my 70’s. I will be considered very lucky to make it to 65 (I’m 63 now). I have inoperable ovarian cancer, and so I am coping by acknowledging my diagnosis, living my life as best I can day-to-day with my beloved husband of 31 years, and both reading and writing here on Substack. If I can, I hope to be able to inspire, comfort, and educate people the way that you do with your lovely posts. Thank you for sharing your pragmatic wisdom and experience with us here on Substack :)
Thank you in return for your willingness to share your circumstances with me and with all your readers. I can tell you that gathering together open-hearted people, even virtually, is a great source of comfort in this wounded world. I hope/anticipate that you will feel held by all those whose lives are unfolding alongside yours.
Thank you Susie, a worthy meditation. Connecting through love, to others and their need to be heard, to ourselves…kind of everything in some ways of perceiving you might say; birthing new buds to flower and who knows how bountiful they might bloom?
Welcome (almost) to the octo club, jump in, the water’s fine!
So good to hear from you, Jim. Really seeing the Other and validating their experience has been my focus for many years. It has taken me a long time to develop this part of myself...But I think it's the empathy that everyone is talking about now and that the people in charge seemed to have lost interest in.
Reading this, Susie, I wonder if overwhelm has never been solely about too much... maybe always about lost at sea... thanks for inviting us to dive deeply.
I've been pondering this. It's a subtle distinction...but I think you may be on to something. When I first feel like it's all too much, I lose my grounding and then feel lost at sea. Out there in that boat all alone, I don't touch the other souls that are part of my ground of interbeing and I feel overwhelmed by the vastness of the enterprise of being alive.
It's very moving that the needs of spiritual caregivers are being recognized and spoken out loud. There has been no respite from the anguish, only the support of loved ones and the embrace of Life itself. Love to you and all your people who give so much.,
Jonah is a source of ongoing revelation. It's a treat to be aware that you knew him when he was small. Your perspective gives the writing so much more meaning.
Oh Susie. This is simply beautiful. Your conversation with Jonah. Such a microcosm of what is needed in the world. I had a dream of saying to Glen, my son, "The miracle of existence. The miracle of existence." And despite all, this feels true to me 100 times a day.
How wonderful that we have these precious sons and grandsons to share it with. Love you, Jinks.
As the young people say, dearest Susie, "True, that!"
Absolutely beautiful.p
Means a lot to me to get that feedback from you.
I love this:
"When you touch another human being and feel that person touching you, everything else falls away. "
Thank you for saying so simple and concisely how connection helps us continue on.
I appreciate your response, Rebecca. Now we are touching, if only virtually. The more connection, the less violence to ourselves and each other.
I so enjoy your posts, Susie. It is not possible that I will live into my 80’s or even into my 70’s. I will be considered very lucky to make it to 65 (I’m 63 now). I have inoperable ovarian cancer, and so I am coping by acknowledging my diagnosis, living my life as best I can day-to-day with my beloved husband of 31 years, and both reading and writing here on Substack. If I can, I hope to be able to inspire, comfort, and educate people the way that you do with your lovely posts. Thank you for sharing your pragmatic wisdom and experience with us here on Substack :)
Thank you in return for your willingness to share your circumstances with me and with all your readers. I can tell you that gathering together open-hearted people, even virtually, is a great source of comfort in this wounded world. I hope/anticipate that you will feel held by all those whose lives are unfolding alongside yours.
Thank you Susie, a worthy meditation. Connecting through love, to others and their need to be heard, to ourselves…kind of everything in some ways of perceiving you might say; birthing new buds to flower and who knows how bountiful they might bloom?
Welcome (almost) to the octo club, jump in, the water’s fine!
So good to hear from you, Jim. Really seeing the Other and validating their experience has been my focus for many years. It has taken me a long time to develop this part of myself...But I think it's the empathy that everyone is talking about now and that the people in charge seemed to have lost interest in.
So beautifully written. You brighten my days Susie!
Thank you, Renée. Thinking of you even more than usual.
Reading this, Susie, I wonder if overwhelm has never been solely about too much... maybe always about lost at sea... thanks for inviting us to dive deeply.
I've been pondering this. It's a subtle distinction...but I think you may be on to something. When I first feel like it's all too much, I lose my grounding and then feel lost at sea. Out there in that boat all alone, I don't touch the other souls that are part of my ground of interbeing and I feel overwhelmed by the vastness of the enterprise of being alive.
A Prayer for When It’s All Too Much
by Rabbi Paul Kipnes
Yotzer Or – Creator of Light,
I am spent.
Worn thin like the edge of my tallit,
frayed from too many pulls
on body, heart, and soul.
You call me to be present—
to hold, to heal, to help.
But today, I feel hollowed out.
The river of need overflows its banks,
and I—once the steady shoreline—
am crumbling.
My mind races—
with tasks to complete,
tears to comfort,
worries about new life
and old responsibilities.
Joy and dread
dance too close together.
O Holy One, slow my spiraling.
Let me breathe in Your comfort
like Shabbat’s first deep inhale.
Let me see sparks of goodness
even in the undone.
Let me forgive myself
for not holding everyone all at once.
Hold me, O God,
as I try to hold them.
Remind me that I am not You—
and do not need to be.
That I am enough,
even in my tiredness.
May I make room for the new baby’s cry,
and the wedding’s wonder,
without guilt for the joy they bring.
And when I cannot carry another’s pain,
may I trust You to do the holding.
Rabbi Paul Kipnes
orami.org | paulkipnes.com
It's very moving that the needs of spiritual caregivers are being recognized and spoken out loud. There has been no respite from the anguish, only the support of loved ones and the embrace of Life itself. Love to you and all your people who give so much.,
So glad, it sounds as if he's doing well....
Beautiful, again Susie. I really enjoyed reading about this, and hearing about Jonah!
Love to you.
Jonah is a source of ongoing revelation. It's a treat to be aware that you knew him when he was small. Your perspective gives the writing so much more meaning.