Keep telling the Story of love
With a heart full of love, I offer this gift: a 32-page collection of writing and poetry.
No strings attached. You don’t have to subscribe to my blog to get it. You don’t have to sign up for anything. Here it is. For you. Go get it.
It’s a PDF file.
To receive your copy, click on the button below. (You’ll be asked to enter your name and email so we know where to send the gift. It will arrive moments later.)
My mother sighed as if exhaling a huge weight. “That’s true,” she said. “Before the surgery, I was never able to really love. I mean, I loved you – and your sisters – but I couldn’t trust that you loved me. I was so stiff and self-conscious, always doubting myself.
“But after the surgery I went through this opening where now I just love you. I don’t worry about whether you love me. I just, you know, love you. And then I can feel the love. ”
And then she said the most remarkable thing…
“Back then, when I was in the hospital, when I almost died, God came and talked to me. We were walking toward the light and I asked him, ‘Can I have just a little more time?’ God asked me, ‘Why do you need more time?’ And I said, ‘I want to go back and just once, really experience love. I just want to fully love. I know how to do that now.’”
This ebook includes essays and stories – and one poem, called “Stand in Joy.”
Keep Telling the Story of Love is about our tender humanity – our open- heart surgery, our ungraceful aging, our vulnerability – to hurricanes, floods and other forces of nature – and to our own middle-of-the-night fears.
The ebook is divided into three sections:
1) There is no broken you
- There is no broken you
- Turn sideways into the light
- As if love is breathing your heart
2) What to do with suffering
- Your own suffering
- The suffering of others
- “Everyone suffers, you can’t give up”
- Shifting out of suffering
3) When the world seems to be falling apart
- Stand in joy
- Cracking the box – The courage to release what is not love
- There are always helpers
- Wind at the windows
- What I am remembering: Notes from the post- Sandy blackout
It’s a PDF file.
To receive your FREE copy, click on the button below.
There is a way to make stress (or peace) out of any situation. I sit outside on the lawn swing; surrounded by beauty – the dew-jeweled grass, a white-gold sunrise, my book open beside me, a cup of tea, all my iTools – laptop, phone. Yet, here is this stress. What can I do?
A few years ago, my dad said something that really resonates with me: “We’re all disabled,’ he said. “Some of us wear it on the outside. Some, on the inside.”
I think of my yoga teacher, who has spent the last three months on the floor of her bedroom after a fall – and a back injury. I think of my husband, who wakes up every morning in pain – and figures out how to get through it.
I think of friends, family members and clients struggling with depression, cancer, botched surgery and broken marriages. I think of the elders at my father’s nursing home, slumped in their wheelchairs after strokes, paralysis and Alzheimer’s.
I think of their families, devastated, guilty – walking through the emotional olympics of watching someone you love suffer and being unable to stop it.
I’m reminded of another teacher: the homeless woman I met 25 years ago in Grand Central Station who, when I gave her two slices of pizza I’d saved from the weekly office party, looked deep into my eyes and spoke from a deep well of wisdom, “Go around the corner and really make a difference.”
When I did, I found hundreds of hungry people standing in line for a paper bag lunch offered, once a day, by the Coalition for the Homeless. That woman inspired me – and so did those hungry, humbled, homeless people whom I met and served for several years. We are all disabled by something. It’s what we make of it that matters.