so many ideas from your writing have made it into, like, the deepest infrastructure of my soul, and "a shipwreck of your expectations" is on its way to the same place. thank you for this piece. so piercing and tender as always
as a society, we relegate grief to being a deep sadness of what was and what could've been. but there's another flavor of grief that we don't talk much about: the we-made-it-to-the-other-side-despite-life-being-over-and-are-now-playing-in-the-ruins type of grief
a joy in grieving the life that could've been
beautiful essay, Sasha ā grateful for the words you put into the complexity of shipwrecks and ruins
my first attentive visit to your sub, and glad of that. Your writing is engaging, lyrical with notes of truth, if not mine then yours or def somebody's. As a Buddhist and Mindfulness teacher it rings a bell that invites me to breathe and find my ground; that's special and worth a note of gratitude. I really should subscribe, shouldn't I? may you experience happiness and ease..
This is such a beautiful read, thank you for writing it. Whenever I notice past "magical thinking" (just as a short hand to what you're describing here) it makes me curious about any current magical thinking.
Gently and with curious compassion: what am I not seeing now? What is the color and shape of the barely tangible film that is obscuring/altering everything currently in front of me? Especially as it pertains to decision making about the near and far future. As it pertains to identity and limiting beliefs. Of course it's impossible to see all of it even with well intentioned inquiry but to assume it isn't there at all and that I've now arrived in some place of total clarity is limiting in the exact same ways that are retrospectively legible/obvious.
Sasha, you are a treasure! I am twice your age with half your wisdom, so I always benefit from your writings. Thank you so much for the willingness to be so honest.
Great post, Sasha. I resonate so much with everything you say here. And your far-beyond-mediocre writing is a joy to read!
THIS:::"When this happensāwhen expectation breaks down, and you are living in a shipwreck of your expectationsāa precious state of being can dawn, if youāre lucky. This is the state of Playing In The Ruins."... for example, is excellent, both in content as in writing style.
'Playing in the Ruins' (great image). For me the turning point was always when I realised :: this is temporary. I'm on my way out. In that moment I could genuinely appreciate the situation for what it was and become curious about what would happen next.
Ah, "the scrapyard it is." I can so relate to this and thank you for this beautiful piece. This realization, for me, has been both terrifying and wondrous, as if seeing it for the first time, as Eliot says. Aging, among other things has brought me here. I am the sum of all the things of my life, and I am none of them.
I love this. Penned a similar piece on this sentiment: āAlongside death and taxes, existence all but guarantees suffering, heartbreak, tragedy.
These elements are near-impossible to see.
When you go about your day, you are seldom aware of the woman reeling from heartbreak, the man sliding into dementia, the terrified child en route to abusive household.
Though horrific, these things make us, are us, imbue us. They mean we have not merely existed, but instead lived.
To be human is to have warts and wrinkles and scars.
To be wise is to love each and every one.
Ashes nourish soil.
Refuse bears fruit.
Crucifixion can represent perfect love.
We are all broken in some way. That, ironically, is what makes humanity whole.ā
At your best, your writing opens some weird channel between my self and something mysterious and spiritual and deeply alive. I feel like I have to sit down before I read one of your posts in case itās another gut wrencher.
I canāt believe how many great posts Iāve read by you and been too lazy to even hit the like button. Sorry, I enjoyed them all.
Great few Phrases: "Itās not like I donāt believe in goals and planning, dreams and ideals. Itās just that I believe that they should drive you into the unknown, to the place where you are drowning and some part of you has to move." Thank You!
I don't know why, but this lesson in perspective is one I have learned numerous times, and yet I continue to forget it. I heard a quote once related to this topic that I have carried around with me: "These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce." (Jose Ortega y Gasset). I always like the use of the term "shipwrecked" to describe people who have lost enough to achieve humility and acceptance.
Quit my job today. This is a lovely piece and it could not be better timed. Iād rate your writing as considerably better than mediocre fwiw.
so many ideas from your writing have made it into, like, the deepest infrastructure of my soul, and "a shipwreck of your expectations" is on its way to the same place. thank you for this piece. so piercing and tender as always
Beautiful. Really needed to read this today.
as a society, we relegate grief to being a deep sadness of what was and what could've been. but there's another flavor of grief that we don't talk much about: the we-made-it-to-the-other-side-despite-life-being-over-and-are-now-playing-in-the-ruins type of grief
a joy in grieving the life that could've been
beautiful essay, Sasha ā grateful for the words you put into the complexity of shipwrecks and ruins
my first attentive visit to your sub, and glad of that. Your writing is engaging, lyrical with notes of truth, if not mine then yours or def somebody's. As a Buddhist and Mindfulness teacher it rings a bell that invites me to breathe and find my ground; that's special and worth a note of gratitude. I really should subscribe, shouldn't I? may you experience happiness and ease..
This is such a beautiful read, thank you for writing it. Whenever I notice past "magical thinking" (just as a short hand to what you're describing here) it makes me curious about any current magical thinking.
Gently and with curious compassion: what am I not seeing now? What is the color and shape of the barely tangible film that is obscuring/altering everything currently in front of me? Especially as it pertains to decision making about the near and far future. As it pertains to identity and limiting beliefs. Of course it's impossible to see all of it even with well intentioned inquiry but to assume it isn't there at all and that I've now arrived in some place of total clarity is limiting in the exact same ways that are retrospectively legible/obvious.
Sasha, you are a treasure! I am twice your age with half your wisdom, so I always benefit from your writings. Thank you so much for the willingness to be so honest.
Great post, Sasha. I resonate so much with everything you say here. And your far-beyond-mediocre writing is a joy to read!
THIS:::"When this happensāwhen expectation breaks down, and you are living in a shipwreck of your expectationsāa precious state of being can dawn, if youāre lucky. This is the state of Playing In The Ruins."... for example, is excellent, both in content as in writing style.
'Playing in the Ruins' (great image). For me the turning point was always when I realised :: this is temporary. I'm on my way out. In that moment I could genuinely appreciate the situation for what it was and become curious about what would happen next.
Ah, "the scrapyard it is." I can so relate to this and thank you for this beautiful piece. This realization, for me, has been both terrifying and wondrous, as if seeing it for the first time, as Eliot says. Aging, among other things has brought me here. I am the sum of all the things of my life, and I am none of them.
I love this. Penned a similar piece on this sentiment: āAlongside death and taxes, existence all but guarantees suffering, heartbreak, tragedy.
These elements are near-impossible to see.
When you go about your day, you are seldom aware of the woman reeling from heartbreak, the man sliding into dementia, the terrified child en route to abusive household.
Though horrific, these things make us, are us, imbue us. They mean we have not merely existed, but instead lived.
To be human is to have warts and wrinkles and scars.
To be wise is to love each and every one.
Ashes nourish soil.
Refuse bears fruit.
Crucifixion can represent perfect love.
We are all broken in some way. That, ironically, is what makes humanity whole.ā
https://www.whitenoise.email/p/when-things-fall-apart
I clicked the ālikeā button after reading the first paragraph :)
At your best, your writing opens some weird channel between my self and something mysterious and spiritual and deeply alive. I feel like I have to sit down before I read one of your posts in case itās another gut wrencher.
I canāt believe how many great posts Iāve read by you and been too lazy to even hit the like button. Sorry, I enjoyed them all.
Great few Phrases: "Itās not like I donāt believe in goals and planning, dreams and ideals. Itās just that I believe that they should drive you into the unknown, to the place where you are drowning and some part of you has to move." Thank You!
This is like wafting a delicious tray of stream entry in front of my nose. So close I can almost taste it :>
So well written - you're on your Hero's Journey - keep playing
I don't know why, but this lesson in perspective is one I have learned numerous times, and yet I continue to forget it. I heard a quote once related to this topic that I have carried around with me: "These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce." (Jose Ortega y Gasset). I always like the use of the term "shipwrecked" to describe people who have lost enough to achieve humility and acceptance.