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Your response on the physical life and oneness was insightful as I’ve been struggling with getting comfortable with being alone and reframing my loneliness to simply being one with myself and the world around me. This time was chosen by me which makes it feel like punishment at times rather than its purpose of caring for my family and so I must observe and acknowledge that there is oneness in the path I have chosen and the work I am doing. Now, if and when I can get my two cats with me, that would be lovely.

Your post about your late son is so beautiful and the love you two shared for dancing and seeing how you express and feel without his physical body present was helpful to me in my own struggles with separation from family. Thank you.

The late Charlotte Joko Beck writes in an extraordinary way in which she sees and explains the practicality of “practice” and how this mighty individual effort is universal for all.

Your comments really resonated with me. Thank you.

I can so relate to Ade’s post in many ways, and in fact, literally had the same parallel, in that I was on an Amtrak bus a few days ago to surprise, my 94 and 91-year-old parents. I generally see them every couple of weeks because my dad is on hospice and my mom is getting very weak. The struggle of isolation and withdrawal in my head is because I am on the edge of leaving a very long marriage due to verbal abuse and narcissism, and having lost my sense of self through it all. Jumping into the unknown and beginning again, is a fearful terror unless I reframe it as an adventure. But coming back to my bus trip…when I arrived, the caregiver answered the door, and it was a warm welcoming with a smile and no eggshells to step on. I was “received“ as I am, and as I was with no need for explanation, or to defend myself for simply being. It felt good being in that moment of an act of love for family, because that’s what I wanted to do. I, too, have those pleading moments in the dark of night (usually at 3 or 4 AM) swirling with regret and complicity in a comfortable life, as I’ve lived with disrespect and not living up to my values and principles when it comes to family. The bus ride “home,” a spontaneous, one where no one knew, was its own adventure of presence, not thinking of myself as a victim, but rather a victorious participant in life, as I was in the moment, and in my own moment, doing what felt perfect and right with little thinking involved. Introspective and contemplative thinking is a safe place for me, yet it can also be isolating. Finding a balance to be of service to others is a way to heal myself and find purpose. Time is all we have and I don’t want to let my mind think of that future day when I can’t hop on a bus or drive the freeways to see my parents and bring them their favorite coffee cake or make them a meal. That grieving and emptiness will be another journey. So, I am here, right now, saying “thank you” for all who are shari... [View Full Comment] I can so relate to Ade’s post in many ways, and in fact, literally had the same parallel, in that I was on an Amtrak bus a few days ago to surprise, my 94 and 91-year-old parents. I generally see them every couple of weeks because my dad is on hospice and my mom is getting very weak. The struggle of isolation and withdrawal in my head is because I am on the edge of leaving a very long marriage due to verbal abuse and narcissism, and having lost my sense of self through it all. Jumping into the unknown and beginning again, is a fearful terror unless I reframe it as an adventure. But coming back to my bus trip…when I arrived, the caregiver answered the door, and it was a warm welcoming with a smile and no eggshells to step on. I was “received“ as I am, and as I was with no need for explanation, or to defend myself for simply being. It felt good being in that moment of an act of love for family, because that’s what I wanted to do. I, too, have those pleading moments in the dark of night (usually at 3 or 4 AM) swirling with regret and complicity in a comfortable life, as I’ve lived with disrespect and not living up to my values and principles when it comes to family. The bus ride “home,” a spontaneous, one where no one knew, was its own adventure of presence, not thinking of myself as a victim, but rather a victorious participant in life, as I was in the moment, and in my own moment, doing what felt perfect and right with little thinking involved. Introspective and contemplative thinking is a safe place for me, yet it can also be isolating. Finding a balance to be of service to others is a way to heal myself and find purpose. Time is all we have and I don’t want to let my mind think of that future day when I can’t hop on a bus or drive the freeways to see my parents and bring them their favorite coffee cake or make them a meal. That grieving and emptiness will be another journey. So, I am here, right now, saying “thank you” for all who are sharing their extraordinary posts. I’m so happy you listened to that voice, Ade, and went home for a visit.[Hide Full Comment]