What a wonderful way to mark reality, Abigail. The younger me created "best practices," and then I was paid well to advise "best practices don't matter; only next practices matter." I've advanced to my current mantra of "next steps don't matter--only NOW steps."
Loved that, ...Only now steps. Wonderful way to live. Aware that any minute now...right around the corner...is the next thing. Thank you for your kind words.
Good god, yes. Imagine the mess if every thread to the past were still attached. We'd be unable to move a muscle,.what a great and terrible mage. Thank you. I feel like shaking right now, like a dog. I've always envied the wonderful way a dog shakes off the rain. And thank you again,I keep seeing those absent threads.
Every moment holds a world. Now I'm the one who will hear that phrase in my head whenever I forget to be present. To stay awake to the minute, the hour, time that keeps on slipping away while I wasn't looking or listening or running fingertips across a worn-out old book that I love, that's the trick isn't it. I hope to have 11 more years (I'm that far behind you) to practice coming to my senses. I love sort of knowing wonderful you, Abigail!
Thank you, I loved your fingers running over a worn-out book you love...I think you have already come to your senses--you've just breathed life into that old phrase for me. and I'm going to spend this rainy chilly fall afternoon aware of each one! Thank you for that. And I am loving sort of knowing you ,too clearly wonderful yourself.
I refer to it as existing in the "Holy Instant." I came up with the term when I was in the ICU following a stroke and many complications. I was essentially paralyzed, voiceless, and reduced to being an observer, or perhaps elevated to role of supervisor. My memory was fuzzy and most of yesterday did not make it into today. At the time, I thought it made me much like my dog. She only knows of what is happening now, with little suggestion of memory other than anticipation of her next meal or walk. She seemed to not be distressed in the least. So I made my peace with it and chose to live dog-like, in the Holy Instant.
The Holy Instant. Beautiful. Something about those two words together that sends out sparks. Not sparkles, too tame, Sparks. what a wonderful phrase you have given the language.
I love the way dogs wake up, tails already wagging, looking forward to whatever comes next. They must live in one enormous Holy Instant. I am glad you are better now.
I’m always excited to read your magical words. “Hospital corners” is my “brown suit” I can never change my sheets without remembering my mother teaching me how to make hospital corners with the sheet
If you already know how, at least you don't have to learn again! Who taught your mother?
I would be so proud of knowing how. I think I used to know why hospital corners were superior to just tucking, but can't remember anymore. I might have to look them up.
My son totaled his car yesterday. He called me at 8 AM from the side of the road, and once I knew he was okay, the rest of it has just been details. Something about the whole world in an instant. You’re brilliant and such a gift, and I hope you feel how loved you are.
The gentle brilliance of your writing is a lovely addiction. Brown suits on common men, folding the NYT correctly, dwelling in the echo of a wisp of a real or imagined experience—these are a few of my favorite things we share.
Can’t thank you enough. I’m 72 and lost both parents when 19 and just 25. That generation for me is long gone and well, as I’m aging I don’t have any mirrors. Few experiences to help me today. Thank you.
I think many of us are on our own in this new territory. Figuring it out for ourselves. But you were very young to have lost both parents. I am so sorry
Well, I appreciate your writing especially for the reason I stated. Thank you. I used to see it as a kind of freedom. I was suspicious it might not last. Voila.
So many wonderful things to reflect on here and as always so beautifully said. And yes to the useless memories… Why do we have those? And they come up on repeat, regularly. I love how you teach me to look at things differently.
Thank you, Mira. It is so funny, what we remember. Why I should remember that and not other way more important things. Oh well. Maybe it was his highbrow English accent that printed it on my brain.
What a wonderful way to mark reality, Abigail. The younger me created "best practices," and then I was paid well to advise "best practices don't matter; only next practices matter." I've advanced to my current mantra of "next steps don't matter--only NOW steps."
Loved that, ...Only now steps. Wonderful way to live. Aware that any minute now...right around the corner...is the next thing. Thank you for your kind words.
“If the memory is irretrievable, I dwell on the echo…” —goodness gracious, Abby.
My adoration for you, your words and worlds, is boundless. Stick that in your present and smoke it ❤️
I would very much like to smoke it, thank you,Kate. Looking for a match now.
I really needed to hear this (read this). I'm okay. I'm not alone. Thank you, Abigail.
Thank you. I am so glad it was useful. You are certainly not alone.
Wow! Isn’t this a comfort to those of us who are living every day without every thread to the past still attached?
Good god, yes. Imagine the mess if every thread to the past were still attached. We'd be unable to move a muscle,.what a great and terrible mage. Thank you. I feel like shaking right now, like a dog. I've always envied the wonderful way a dog shakes off the rain. And thank you again,I keep seeing those absent threads.
Every moment holds a world. Now I'm the one who will hear that phrase in my head whenever I forget to be present. To stay awake to the minute, the hour, time that keeps on slipping away while I wasn't looking or listening or running fingertips across a worn-out old book that I love, that's the trick isn't it. I hope to have 11 more years (I'm that far behind you) to practice coming to my senses. I love sort of knowing wonderful you, Abigail!
Thank you, I loved your fingers running over a worn-out book you love...I think you have already come to your senses--you've just breathed life into that old phrase for me. and I'm going to spend this rainy chilly fall afternoon aware of each one! Thank you for that. And I am loving sort of knowing you ,too clearly wonderful yourself.
I refer to it as existing in the "Holy Instant." I came up with the term when I was in the ICU following a stroke and many complications. I was essentially paralyzed, voiceless, and reduced to being an observer, or perhaps elevated to role of supervisor. My memory was fuzzy and most of yesterday did not make it into today. At the time, I thought it made me much like my dog. She only knows of what is happening now, with little suggestion of memory other than anticipation of her next meal or walk. She seemed to not be distressed in the least. So I made my peace with it and chose to live dog-like, in the Holy Instant.
The Holy Instant. Beautiful. Something about those two words together that sends out sparks. Not sparkles, too tame, Sparks. what a wonderful phrase you have given the language.
I love the way dogs wake up, tails already wagging, looking forward to whatever comes next. They must live in one enormous Holy Instant. I am glad you are better now.
I’m always excited to read your magical words. “Hospital corners” is my “brown suit” I can never change my sheets without remembering my mother teaching me how to make hospital corners with the sheet
If you already know how, at least you don't have to learn again! Who taught your mother?
I would be so proud of knowing how. I think I used to know why hospital corners were superior to just tucking, but can't remember anymore. I might have to look them up.
Thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them.
My son totaled his car yesterday. He called me at 8 AM from the side of the road, and once I knew he was okay, the rest of it has just been details. Something about the whole world in an instant. You’re brilliant and such a gift, and I hope you feel how loved you are.
That must have been terrifying, yes, the whole world in an instant. Glad all is well, and you are really very kind. Thank you.
The gentle brilliance of your writing is a lovely addiction. Brown suits on common men, folding the NYT correctly, dwelling in the echo of a wisp of a real or imagined experience—these are a few of my favorite things we share.
Thank you very much. I love knowing that.
This is so beautiful, Abigail. I am saving it forever. And tacking it to the wall next to my desk so I don't forget where it is. Thank you.
Thank you very much. Really. Thank you.
Can’t thank you enough. I’m 72 and lost both parents when 19 and just 25. That generation for me is long gone and well, as I’m aging I don’t have any mirrors. Few experiences to help me today. Thank you.
I think many of us are on our own in this new territory. Figuring it out for ourselves. But you were very young to have lost both parents. I am so sorry
Well, I appreciate your writing especially for the reason I stated. Thank you. I used to see it as a kind of freedom. I was suspicious it might not last. Voila.
“Every moment holds a world.” Wow, Abby! Just wow.
Lisa, thank you. It's deliciously true.
So many wonderful things to reflect on here and as always so beautifully said. And yes to the useless memories… Why do we have those? And they come up on repeat, regularly. I love how you teach me to look at things differently.
Thank you, Mira. It is so funny, what we remember. Why I should remember that and not other way more important things. Oh well. Maybe it was his highbrow English accent that printed it on my brain.
Hoping I can do the same when and if I reach 84.
Every reason to assume you will! Old age is so interesting!
I can say relate to this....sending lots of love
Thank you very much, and love back to you.
I'm living this world as well, and your perspective about it cheered me immensely. Thank you!