Here’s a question that may have occurred to you at some point: why does it seem easier to love some people than others? The answer is so simple it may surprise you.
Early this morning, I found myself laughing hard at myself for something I’d just done. I wish I remembered the action or thought that had made me laugh, but I don’t. In fact, I don’t need to know because laughing at myself is something I often find myself doing when it becomes clear to me I’ve done something that doesn’t make any sense, or is in some way counter to what I’m trying to accomplish.
Yesterday, I was listening to a speech by the author and New York Times columnist, David Brooks. He was talking about moving beyond the challenges we face in life when he said, “You can be broken. Or you can be broken open.” I loved what he was saying, but I have a slightly different take on it.
I was speaking with a client the other day about a big change in his life. He has entered a period of great uncertainty. A more precise way of saying this might be that he’s aware of a great deal of uncertainty in his life. Whether or not we notice it, life is always uncertain. This is a truth most of us shy away from. We equate certainty with security, and most of us would probably rather believe the factors in our lives that matter to us have certainty built into them.
During the past years, and without really wanting to do so, I’ve developed a deep understanding of what it’s like to live with constant physical pain. This understanding has nothing to do with the science behind pain, it’s about the experience of living with pain as a constant companion. I decided a long time ago that it was in my own best interests to learn what I could from pain that might make my life, and perhaps the lives of others, a bit easier.
How often do you hear someone say, when they’re trying to come to grips with a situation, “I’m working on accepting that?”
Does 2025 seem to you to contain more uncertainty than any year that came before? The general sentiment I hear expressed seems to confirm that many of us feel this way. But that sentiment ignores several incontrovertible truths.
Recently, I had an experience that reminded me of the power of sheer, unbridled aliveness. If you’re not sure what I mean, I’m talking about the sense of aliveness you feel coming from very young children. Most of us would likely say the sense of aliveness we experience is, at best, a diluted version of what we felt as children.
I’ve always loved Thanksgiving, and it’s always seemed to me a much less complicated-feeling holiday than Christmas is. I especially like the point of Thanksgiving; slowing down to be thankful, and reflecting on just how many things, especially small things you have to be grateful for.
