Of all the “what ifs,” how many “at least it didn’t _____” are there?
So many near-misses, so many itcouldhavebeenworse moments in life. This fractured place of maybe-ness is a grey, foggy place. I like concrete reality better, but sometimes we fall into the grey patches, or they just find us. We cannot stay long in these spots because, well, they aren’t real.
love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places
yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skillfully curled)
all worlds —ee cummings
How do we keep on when everything appears … too much? Or not enough? Yes is a good word to practice. Yes, I will go out for lunch with you. You find the crowbar inside yourself that gets you off the couch, out of the bed, away from the comfort of home…away from sorrow’s welcoming hug. Yes, I will volunteer at the library. How to invoke the crowbar? One of the best voices in my arsenal of YES is Augusten Burroughs‘ THIS IS HOW: SURVIVING WHAT YOU THINK YOU CAN’T.
“…all of us are made not only of what we have but of what we lost. And loss is not a subtraction. As an experience, it is an addition. Even when we lose a leg or an arm, there’s not less of us but more. Human experience weighs more than human tissue.” -Augusten Burroughs
We aren’t made to be happy all the time–we just aren’t wired that way. Grieving is light years away from simply unhappy, but my point is that there is a world of Yes. We can’t live there all of the time–probably shouldn’t–but it’s an important place to visit.
