OPTIONAL:
- Light lots of candles, and every time they don’t burn down your house smugly think, I AM THE MASTER OF FIRE. I AM THE MASTER OF MY DESTINY!
- Make space for both quiet and joyful noise. Breaking silence by humming or warbling with ridiculously exaggerated vibrato doesn’t fix a blessed thing — but it feels good to fill a room with nothing but one’s own lungs and a little stubborn hope.
- Keep promises to yourself. One of mine is to dance whenever I’m alone in an elevator; sometimes that has meant full-on booty-shaking, and other times it’s been deploying half-hearted shimmies between sobs — but it all counts, and the point is simply to stave off our inevitable deaths with a little flair.
- Try listening to:
1) strangers’ conversations in public spaces {my recent favorite being a table of older people arguing over the best recipe for spiked eggnog};
2) the voices, whether internal or external, that remind you you’re worthy of love, as you are right now;
3) the song “Blue Healer” by Birdtalker {the best mantra I never wanted};
4) On Being podcast episodes with Greg Boyle, Alain de Botton, and Pádraig Ó Tuama, which are inspiring and often hilarious. {I listen every day to what Ó Tuama reads at the 44:30 minute marker — so lovely.} - Move your body. Shake that meaty skeleton like nobody’s watching — which they are, because you’re standing in the middle of Home Depot. An interesting choice for spontaneously breaking into the Macarena, but look at you go!
- Don’t make the same mistakes I have {and still do} in underestimating the power of: long hugs, long walks, second chances, soaring architecture, a doubtful-croaky prayer that consists only of be with me, new rituals that capitalize on aloneness, and favorite movies watched from under a warm blanket, E.T.-style.
REQUIRED:
- Fight mercilessly for the most hopeful, whole-hearted version of yourself. If you find a way to outsource this terrible process, PLEASE let me know.
- Remember that whatever cold and broken hallelujahs we can manage are enough. If we’re patient, over time, they’ll become a little less of both.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Also heartbreaking. I’m praying for you and pulling for you, Penny!
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