These are the words that my friend Kalli (Popi) Ladon says in the video that just aired yesterday:
Popi has been fighting cancer for several years and winning. She ignores the doctors who tell her she has only six months to live. (Who gives doctors the right to put an expiration date on her?) More than surviving cancer, she is thriving. She is doing the things she loves--dancing for one--and is now inspiring others to do the same. When we are healed, we are not healed alone, states the Course in Miracles. Popi's miraculous healing is helping other cancer patients go beyond the limitations of medicine to the miracles of God.
And of course Popi is not just inspiring cancer patients. She is inspiring me. She is inspiring those who have suffered severe loss, as well as those who are dying a slow death because they can't leave a job they hate that pays the bills, or a relationship that is no longer loving and joyful, but is safe.
Too long have we bought into the idea that we are put on Earth just to survive. As children of God, joy and love and peace and freedom are our inheritance. We are here on Earth to inspire each other, to use our talents to create a better world, to have abundance not just of material things, but abundance of time, of energy, of health, of friends, of community, of celebration.
So on this day of celebration, I celebrate my friend Popi who is a powerful warrior, a beautiful goddess, and a loving friend.
Merry Christmas!
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Another perspective on depression
A few friends who read my last post commented that I was depressed and perhaps should see a therapist. I was a little surprised as I don't tend to see my state of mind as something that needs to be fixed, but rather as something that needs to be experienced so that it can heal. It seems to me that labeling something and coming up with a cure is the easy way out. It makes us think we know what's going on and that we're in control. So let me share my view on depression.
At the bottom of every ego lies a dark self-hatred, a feeling of unworthiness, and terror. Everyone has this unless they have actually done some serious spiritual/healing work. This is the human condition. Of course most of don't experience the intensity of it. Instead of stark terror, we feel worried. Instead of hatred, we feel a mild dislike. Instead of deep rage we feel frustration. We keep things at a superficial level so that we can feel comfortable and so that we can remain functional.
So rather than feel and heal the darkness within, we stay very busy--running constantly so that perhaps death won't catch up with us. Or we take medication such as prozac so that we can feel OK and continue to function. All we're doing is suppressing the feelings that are there. Rather than heal the source of the depression, we heal the symptoms. Or those of us who don't suppress the dark feelings wallow in them and become the victim. Oh, woe is me! We may go to a therapist and analyze our feelings to death, blaming our parents. But that isn't really experiencing the feeling either. And the darkness continues to run underneath, allowing us to go about our day, with just a slight feeling of uneasiness, that something is wrong.
There is another way. It's to allow the feelings to come up without labeling them, without making them wrong, without talking about them, without suppressing them. Just sit and feel these uncomfortable feelings of fear, of anger, of unworthiness. They are coming up to be healed. They won't kill you, and they won't last forever. Usually a few days will do it. And then they shift into something else and are released. At which point there is more clarity.
At least that's my take on how to handle feelings of depression. Allow them to move through you without judgment. At some point the light will return.
At the bottom of every ego lies a dark self-hatred, a feeling of unworthiness, and terror. Everyone has this unless they have actually done some serious spiritual/healing work. This is the human condition. Of course most of don't experience the intensity of it. Instead of stark terror, we feel worried. Instead of hatred, we feel a mild dislike. Instead of deep rage we feel frustration. We keep things at a superficial level so that we can feel comfortable and so that we can remain functional.
So rather than feel and heal the darkness within, we stay very busy--running constantly so that perhaps death won't catch up with us. Or we take medication such as prozac so that we can feel OK and continue to function. All we're doing is suppressing the feelings that are there. Rather than heal the source of the depression, we heal the symptoms. Or those of us who don't suppress the dark feelings wallow in them and become the victim. Oh, woe is me! We may go to a therapist and analyze our feelings to death, blaming our parents. But that isn't really experiencing the feeling either. And the darkness continues to run underneath, allowing us to go about our day, with just a slight feeling of uneasiness, that something is wrong.
There is another way. It's to allow the feelings to come up without labeling them, without making them wrong, without talking about them, without suppressing them. Just sit and feel these uncomfortable feelings of fear, of anger, of unworthiness. They are coming up to be healed. They won't kill you, and they won't last forever. Usually a few days will do it. And then they shift into something else and are released. At which point there is more clarity.
At least that's my take on how to handle feelings of depression. Allow them to move through you without judgment. At some point the light will return.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
How can a path that lacks joy lead to joy?
I know it's been almost two months since I wrote in my blog. Frankly I was in such intense processing, feeling so disoriented and out of touch, that I had nothing to share. I've been in a nightmare of unhappiness not just in the last couple of months, but since my birthday in May. As I blew out the candles on my birthday cake, I remember making one simple wish: I want to be happy. What has followed is six months of deep unhappiness.
Be careful what you ask for. It seems that I needed to see all the beliefs that I hold that prevent me from being happy. The couple of months I spent in one house share showed me how I believed that I had no value as a human being if I had no money. It took being emotionally abused to break through this belief that was causing so much suffering. When I realized how I was betraying myself, a miracle happened and I got to move. But I can't say that situation was a happy one. Nor has my stay in Florida been happy, despite my mother's generous welcome. I don't belong here. I can't breathe here. It feels like a dead end. Then why was I brought here?
A few days ago I realized that I had a belief that awakening could only happen through suffering and loss. This belief did not come from my Christian roots but from advaita. "The path to enlightenment is a path of loss", I heard my spiritual teacher say. "You have to meet death, meet the emptiness." After all, that's how Ramana Maharshi woke up, by being terrified of death and meeting it.
It seems that I have gotten very good at loss and getting to a point where my life is so miserable that it feels like death. But reaching that point isn't waking me up; it's just making me miserable, out of touch with the world, and hoping to die to escape. The Course in Miracles tells me that God's will for me is perfect happiness. So God hasn't been doing this to me, I've been doing this to myself unconsciously. God forbid that I am happy, that I have a partner, that I celebrate with friends, that I have work I love, that I have abundance. If I'm so happy in this life I won't wake up. Really? The Course in Miracles says that God comes to wake us up after the nightmare has become a happy dream.
Well, if this world is a dream, then I am ready for a happy dream. I am putting aside all thoughts of awakening, as they are just concepts. I don't know how it feels to be awake. But I do know how it feels to be happy. And I am so ready to be happy. I share God's will for happiness for me. And I choose life. Bring it on!
Be careful what you ask for. It seems that I needed to see all the beliefs that I hold that prevent me from being happy. The couple of months I spent in one house share showed me how I believed that I had no value as a human being if I had no money. It took being emotionally abused to break through this belief that was causing so much suffering. When I realized how I was betraying myself, a miracle happened and I got to move. But I can't say that situation was a happy one. Nor has my stay in Florida been happy, despite my mother's generous welcome. I don't belong here. I can't breathe here. It feels like a dead end. Then why was I brought here?
A few days ago I realized that I had a belief that awakening could only happen through suffering and loss. This belief did not come from my Christian roots but from advaita. "The path to enlightenment is a path of loss", I heard my spiritual teacher say. "You have to meet death, meet the emptiness." After all, that's how Ramana Maharshi woke up, by being terrified of death and meeting it.
It seems that I have gotten very good at loss and getting to a point where my life is so miserable that it feels like death. But reaching that point isn't waking me up; it's just making me miserable, out of touch with the world, and hoping to die to escape. The Course in Miracles tells me that God's will for me is perfect happiness. So God hasn't been doing this to me, I've been doing this to myself unconsciously. God forbid that I am happy, that I have a partner, that I celebrate with friends, that I have work I love, that I have abundance. If I'm so happy in this life I won't wake up. Really? The Course in Miracles says that God comes to wake us up after the nightmare has become a happy dream.
Well, if this world is a dream, then I am ready for a happy dream. I am putting aside all thoughts of awakening, as they are just concepts. I don't know how it feels to be awake. But I do know how it feels to be happy. And I am so ready to be happy. I share God's will for happiness for me. And I choose life. Bring it on!
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Greetings from Florida. Moving towards Wholeness.
This is probably the longest lapse between posts. Please forgive me as I've been very busy moving, and settling in Florida. I wasn't sure if I could even write from here, as I wasn't feeling inspired to say anything. But today I woke up feeling clear and thought I'd reconnect.
Although I've been supported in this move, I can't say that I haven't had challenges. Flying with two cats was intense. My shoulders hurt for days from carrying Max, who weighs a good 14 pounds, and Bradley who, thank God, only weighs about 8 pounds--along with my big bag, my computer, my jacket, and a 6 pound bag of cat food. Then, going through security, I was asked to take both cats out of the carry case, and carry them through in my arms. "You've got to be kidding," I said, " I can't physically carry both cats without dropping one of the poor stressed animals who would be fighting to escape." After several minutes of consultation with the manager, the security person allowed me to take one cat out of the carry case at a time, and come back for the other one. Whew! Sanity prevailed.
When I finally arrived at Orlando at 10:30 pm, I found that I couldn't rent the car I reserved to drive the hour-and-a-half to my mom's house. I had enough money in my debit card to pay for the rental, but not enough to pay for the extra $200 I was going to be temporarily charged because I was using a debit card, and not a credit card. After several calls to my mother and sister I finally got in a taxi, and I was at my mom's by around 1 am.
It seems that no matter how much I am supported in a large transition, there is an intense passage at some point, similar to going through the birth canal.
It's taken me a week to recover from the physical and mental exhaustion of the past five months: moving with my cats to three different places, not feeling wanted at two of those places, stressing about lack of money and how to pay the few bills that I have, banging at closed doors that wouldn't open. Finally welcomed with my cats, I have allowed myself to collapse and sleep all I want, without concern about what I am here to do. But this morning I finally woke up feeling kind of happy, or at least looking forward to this adventure.
I don't know exactly why I am here, apart from finding relief from financial lack. However, based on the last week, I can say that some of the reasons that I am here may be:
Although I've been supported in this move, I can't say that I haven't had challenges. Flying with two cats was intense. My shoulders hurt for days from carrying Max, who weighs a good 14 pounds, and Bradley who, thank God, only weighs about 8 pounds--along with my big bag, my computer, my jacket, and a 6 pound bag of cat food. Then, going through security, I was asked to take both cats out of the carry case, and carry them through in my arms. "You've got to be kidding," I said, " I can't physically carry both cats without dropping one of the poor stressed animals who would be fighting to escape." After several minutes of consultation with the manager, the security person allowed me to take one cat out of the carry case at a time, and come back for the other one. Whew! Sanity prevailed.
When I finally arrived at Orlando at 10:30 pm, I found that I couldn't rent the car I reserved to drive the hour-and-a-half to my mom's house. I had enough money in my debit card to pay for the rental, but not enough to pay for the extra $200 I was going to be temporarily charged because I was using a debit card, and not a credit card. After several calls to my mother and sister I finally got in a taxi, and I was at my mom's by around 1 am.
It seems that no matter how much I am supported in a large transition, there is an intense passage at some point, similar to going through the birth canal.
It's taken me a week to recover from the physical and mental exhaustion of the past five months: moving with my cats to three different places, not feeling wanted at two of those places, stressing about lack of money and how to pay the few bills that I have, banging at closed doors that wouldn't open. Finally welcomed with my cats, I have allowed myself to collapse and sleep all I want, without concern about what I am here to do. But this morning I finally woke up feeling kind of happy, or at least looking forward to this adventure.
I don't know exactly why I am here, apart from finding relief from financial lack. However, based on the last week, I can say that some of the reasons that I am here may be:
- to spend time with my mom and reconnect with my ancestors by hearing stories of my family.
- to connect with my mom and family, in simple ways. I learned to play a card game that my aunt and mom play in the evenings, and after one day was able to beat them. Not everything in life has to be spiritual, I am finding out.
- to get another perspective from the one I've had for 14 years, since I moved to California. At the Center for Spiritual Living I heard Reverend Edward--a man whose funny and humble talks nourish me--say that to be whole we need to allow all perspectives, not just the ones that we agree with.
- to loosen up from my holier-than-thou spiritual attitude that I've acquired since moving to California. I suppose that this attitude was a better one than the more-successful-than-thou material attitude I had in New York. But ultimately both attitudes serve separation and not oneness.
- to learn to receive with grace. My mother loves to give and I have, in the past, repeatedly dismissed her gifts.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Letting go of control and allowing miracles to happen
I apologize for not writing sooner. My life has gone from being stopped with endless time, to being quite busy as I move toward something new. Once again I am seeing that when I let go of my idea of what my life should be and follow God's lead, miracles start happening. The lesson from the Course in Miracles that I am finally starting to get is: God's Will for me is perfect happiness. Having surrendered, I am starting to feel quite happy.
It seems that one after another, doors were closed for me in California. The tutoring job that I had been promised didn't happen. I wasn't given even one student. The house I thought I could share with an ex-housemate didn't happen, as he now has a cat who wouldn't get along with Max. Everywhere I turned, I found shut doors. And if you read my last blog, I finally got a hit that I was ready to leave California. The only door that was open to me was moving to my mom's in Central Florida.
My mother is 84 years old and in good health. She has a 3-bedroom house in Florida, across the street from her sister, and a few minutes drive to the beach. She loves to garden, cook, and she loves me and the cats. And I get along really well with her. Living with my mom is easy. She has invited me to come stay with her over and over. So finally I had no choice but to say "yes, I am moving to Florida." And lo and behold, miracles started happening.
First miracle was that a friend who lives near my mom, in a beautiful house right on the beach, bought me two tickets with her miles. (I need two tickets because I have two cats that I am taking on board with me.) Then, she told me she was making a key for me, so that I could have access to her beach house. Woo hoo! Another friend offered to take me to the airport. Money started showing up--just enough for me to meet all my expenses. I thought of selling my car, but wasn't able to. Hmmm...I thought, this means that I must be coming back.
Sure enough, last week I stopped by to say hi to the mother of a friend. We started talking and it turns out she has a beautiful house in Chico that she isn't using. She said I would be the perfect house sitter. And she loves cats. So it seems to me that I will spend a nice, long vacation in Florida with my mom and then return to start a new life, free of the struggle to pay the rent.
And all of a sudden my social life is abundant. Friends here are taking me out for dinner and brunch, and even coming down from Ashland to visit me. Friends on the East Coast are planning to visit me in Florida. And I am waking up to the fact that it's time to spend time with my mom, whom I have only been seeing for a week every couple of years.
Many friends, whose mothers are no longer alive, have said to me: "You will never regret spending this time with your mother." I know in my heart this is true, but I had to be forced into it. And I am finally feeling very free, and very happy, and connected with so many friends and family.
Did I mention that my mom makes a mean spanakopitta??
God's will for me is perfect happiness. Indeed.
It seems that one after another, doors were closed for me in California. The tutoring job that I had been promised didn't happen. I wasn't given even one student. The house I thought I could share with an ex-housemate didn't happen, as he now has a cat who wouldn't get along with Max. Everywhere I turned, I found shut doors. And if you read my last blog, I finally got a hit that I was ready to leave California. The only door that was open to me was moving to my mom's in Central Florida.
My mother is 84 years old and in good health. She has a 3-bedroom house in Florida, across the street from her sister, and a few minutes drive to the beach. She loves to garden, cook, and she loves me and the cats. And I get along really well with her. Living with my mom is easy. She has invited me to come stay with her over and over. So finally I had no choice but to say "yes, I am moving to Florida." And lo and behold, miracles started happening.
First miracle was that a friend who lives near my mom, in a beautiful house right on the beach, bought me two tickets with her miles. (I need two tickets because I have two cats that I am taking on board with me.) Then, she told me she was making a key for me, so that I could have access to her beach house. Woo hoo! Another friend offered to take me to the airport. Money started showing up--just enough for me to meet all my expenses. I thought of selling my car, but wasn't able to. Hmmm...I thought, this means that I must be coming back.
Sure enough, last week I stopped by to say hi to the mother of a friend. We started talking and it turns out she has a beautiful house in Chico that she isn't using. She said I would be the perfect house sitter. And she loves cats. So it seems to me that I will spend a nice, long vacation in Florida with my mom and then return to start a new life, free of the struggle to pay the rent.
And all of a sudden my social life is abundant. Friends here are taking me out for dinner and brunch, and even coming down from Ashland to visit me. Friends on the East Coast are planning to visit me in Florida. And I am waking up to the fact that it's time to spend time with my mom, whom I have only been seeing for a week every couple of years.
Many friends, whose mothers are no longer alive, have said to me: "You will never regret spending this time with your mother." I know in my heart this is true, but I had to be forced into it. And I am finally feeling very free, and very happy, and connected with so many friends and family.
Did I mention that my mom makes a mean spanakopitta??
God's will for me is perfect happiness. Indeed.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
When spirituality becomes twisted
Perhaps it's time to leave California. Signs are showing up that I no longer belong here. One of the signs is that when ever I attend anything "spiritual" I find how spiritual concepts are being misused. Like the friend who considers himself a guru and is seducing and being seduced by his "devotees". He is one with everyone and feels unconditional love and is free. That's what he tells himself. From my perspective, I want to vomit. That's a sign to me that something is off.
Well this morning I found myself yelling at a woman because I had had it with her new age concepts. (So much for the Course in Miracles.) Anyone who knows me, knows I love my cats--and really all cats. I saw Max, my alpha cat, looking out the window at a red cat in the garden. The red cat seemed lost and scared. I went out to check on him, but he left. Five minutes later a woman drove up asking me if I had seen a cat. Yes! I was so relieved, this cat wouldn't stay lost.
Apparently she was driving from Forestville to Lake Tahoe, and had the cat in the car without a carry case (mistake #1.) The cat jumped out of the car. Her main concern seemed to be that she had to be in Lake Tahoe at 4 pm to celebrate her birthday. She didn't really have time to look for the cat. She spent five minutes calling to him half heartedly and then gave up. "I can't do this to myself," she said to me. "I'm too upset." Hmmm...This seemed to be about her and not the cat.
Then she handed me a can of tuna and asked me if I'd give it to her cat if I saw him. She wouldn't be back for two days. "So you're going to leave your cat lost, thirsty and hungry, for two days?" I asked her. "I assume you'll be coming by to find him on your way back?"
"Well, I might, if I'm not too broken hearted over this," she replied. OK, that didn't compute. She would be broken hearted over losing her cat, and so couldn't come back to look for him??? At this point she wasn't making any sense to me. Then she started telling me how her cat was doing this to punish her, describing the cat's astrological signs, and saying that she trusted he would be fine.
OK, I had had enough. "Enough of this airy fairy new age bullshit!" I yelled at her. "This cat is lost and frightened. You put him in the car without a carry case. You let him escape. And now you can't take the time to find him? You committed to take care of this being. How about taking responsibility??"
She looked at me and asked, "Are you from New York?"
Despite my anger, I had to laugh to myself. "Yes, I am," I said. "And I am so tired of this California spiritual bullshit way of not taking responsibility."
"I'm from New York too," she said. And as she got in the car to leave, leaving her cat behind and homeless, she said to me, "Perhaps you need to be in California longer."
"I've been here 14 years," was my answer. And I would need a lobotomy to get to the point where you are at, I thought to myself. And perhaps it is time to leave Northern California and find a less "spiritual" place where spiritual concepts aren't used to justify indulgence and self-centeredness. Or perhaps I just need to see reflected in this gross projection, what I have bought into for so many years that I need to let go of.
Well this morning I found myself yelling at a woman because I had had it with her new age concepts. (So much for the Course in Miracles.) Anyone who knows me, knows I love my cats--and really all cats. I saw Max, my alpha cat, looking out the window at a red cat in the garden. The red cat seemed lost and scared. I went out to check on him, but he left. Five minutes later a woman drove up asking me if I had seen a cat. Yes! I was so relieved, this cat wouldn't stay lost.
Apparently she was driving from Forestville to Lake Tahoe, and had the cat in the car without a carry case (mistake #1.) The cat jumped out of the car. Her main concern seemed to be that she had to be in Lake Tahoe at 4 pm to celebrate her birthday. She didn't really have time to look for the cat. She spent five minutes calling to him half heartedly and then gave up. "I can't do this to myself," she said to me. "I'm too upset." Hmmm...This seemed to be about her and not the cat.
Then she handed me a can of tuna and asked me if I'd give it to her cat if I saw him. She wouldn't be back for two days. "So you're going to leave your cat lost, thirsty and hungry, for two days?" I asked her. "I assume you'll be coming by to find him on your way back?"
"Well, I might, if I'm not too broken hearted over this," she replied. OK, that didn't compute. She would be broken hearted over losing her cat, and so couldn't come back to look for him??? At this point she wasn't making any sense to me. Then she started telling me how her cat was doing this to punish her, describing the cat's astrological signs, and saying that she trusted he would be fine.
OK, I had had enough. "Enough of this airy fairy new age bullshit!" I yelled at her. "This cat is lost and frightened. You put him in the car without a carry case. You let him escape. And now you can't take the time to find him? You committed to take care of this being. How about taking responsibility??"
She looked at me and asked, "Are you from New York?"
Despite my anger, I had to laugh to myself. "Yes, I am," I said. "And I am so tired of this California spiritual bullshit way of not taking responsibility."
"I'm from New York too," she said. And as she got in the car to leave, leaving her cat behind and homeless, she said to me, "Perhaps you need to be in California longer."
"I've been here 14 years," was my answer. And I would need a lobotomy to get to the point where you are at, I thought to myself. And perhaps it is time to leave Northern California and find a less "spiritual" place where spiritual concepts aren't used to justify indulgence and self-centeredness. Or perhaps I just need to see reflected in this gross projection, what I have bought into for so many years that I need to let go of.
Monday, September 19, 2011
A fond farewell to a little Crystal
This blog is humming with activity lately, and I appreciate everyone's input. But today, rather than address any of the questions being asked, I need to write about a heart-break that one of us is experiencing--the death of her seven year old daughter in a plane crash.
Yesterday morning I was getting ready to go to my version of church (the Center for Spiritual Living) when I thought I'd check my emails. A close friend who reads and participates in my blog, had sent me an email with a subject line that pretty much said her life was over. A little dramatic, I thought to myself, until I opened the email and read that her estranged husband and her seven year-old daughter had died in a plane crash that morning. She had received a call at 3:30 am with the news.
Oh, my God! I forgot about the church and called her, hoping she would answer the phone. She did. All I could say was "I'm so sorry," and cry. She cried with me. I never met the little girl, but she had touched my heart in many ways. Last year, she wrote one of my posts on miracles (October 21, 2010.) She was a miracle walking, and I called her the little Crystal, as she clearly was one of the wise crystal children who came to this world as an enlightened little being. I loved hearing her remarks. Once, when her older brother asked her, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she looked at him as if he was stupid and replied, "What do you mean? I am." Who needs to sit with gurus when you have a child like that?
I hoped that I would meet her one day, and imagined the kind of woman she would grow up to be. Stronger and more beautiful than her mother (and that's saying a lot) and wiser than her dad. " You are wise," my friend asked me on the phone yesterday. "Why do you think this happened?" I have no idea. I won't even try to figure this out nor will I offer any spiritual platitudes. All I can over my friend is the space for her to have her sorrow, and the knowledge that I love her and am here for her. I can't possibly understand her pain, though I can cry along with her.
A friend told me that in some villages, at times like this, the entire tribe gets together and wails along with the mother. This blog, in a way, is one of her tribes. So please feel free to share your love with my friend who is in pain.
I love you, my sister, and I am here for you.
Yesterday morning I was getting ready to go to my version of church (the Center for Spiritual Living) when I thought I'd check my emails. A close friend who reads and participates in my blog, had sent me an email with a subject line that pretty much said her life was over. A little dramatic, I thought to myself, until I opened the email and read that her estranged husband and her seven year-old daughter had died in a plane crash that morning. She had received a call at 3:30 am with the news.
Oh, my God! I forgot about the church and called her, hoping she would answer the phone. She did. All I could say was "I'm so sorry," and cry. She cried with me. I never met the little girl, but she had touched my heart in many ways. Last year, she wrote one of my posts on miracles (October 21, 2010.) She was a miracle walking, and I called her the little Crystal, as she clearly was one of the wise crystal children who came to this world as an enlightened little being. I loved hearing her remarks. Once, when her older brother asked her, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she looked at him as if he was stupid and replied, "What do you mean? I am." Who needs to sit with gurus when you have a child like that?
I hoped that I would meet her one day, and imagined the kind of woman she would grow up to be. Stronger and more beautiful than her mother (and that's saying a lot) and wiser than her dad. " You are wise," my friend asked me on the phone yesterday. "Why do you think this happened?" I have no idea. I won't even try to figure this out nor will I offer any spiritual platitudes. All I can over my friend is the space for her to have her sorrow, and the knowledge that I love her and am here for her. I can't possibly understand her pain, though I can cry along with her.
A friend told me that in some villages, at times like this, the entire tribe gets together and wails along with the mother. This blog, in a way, is one of her tribes. So please feel free to share your love with my friend who is in pain.
I love you, my sister, and I am here for you.
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