James, this is beautiful. The rivers are rich metaphors for human giving and receiving. It’s a tribute to both you and Karen that you each did what you needed to do: you did your internal work of discovery and preparation and she graced your relationship with patience and understanding. Such a lovely piece.
Hi Kathy, Thank you for your acknowledgement. I so appreciate it. I hope your trip was wonderful and I look forward to staying in touch and reading more of your pieces!
This is an amazing piece, rich in detail and beautifully written. On behalf of all of your readers, thank you for your personal openness in writing it and for the wonderful lesson for all. Oh, and the picture taken on the beach with iPhone 1 is amazing.
Hi Drake, Thank you for the heartfelt note back to me. As the writing was coming through me, it kind of felt like my guts were splaying out on the table. :)
Interestingly, another aspect of giving and receiving that I discovered is that as I was reliving that time in my life and calling up the memories, I felt like I was receiving Karen's gifts all over again. And that I was also giving and receiving the gifts of self-love and compassion to myself, all over AGAIN. Perhaps memories can serve the flow of giving and receiving in a similar manner as in the moment.
This is an essay only you could write, James. You do a wonderful job weaving the insights from two-seas metaphor into the story of you and Karen, and the way you honor her with your gratitude is very touching.
It was a pleasure to see this piece shape, and it’s clear that these ideas are resonating with your readers (including me). Great work!
Beautiful and inspiring story, James. And also thought provoking. It's kicked off a whole process for me about what's alive and what's dead and perception. Because the dead sea is teeming with algae and minerals that heal skin and rheumatoid conditions. Yet, if you live in or like the dead sea, you're going nowhere and you're alone!
Hi Lyssa, you're so right about the distinction between living like the Dead Sea, vs. the Dead Sea having gifts to offer the world. Thank you for sharing that - it is important!
Thank you, James, for your very kind, insightful gift to your readers, one that I gratefully accept.
While your empowering story about the giving/receiving dynamic immediately applies to others and, more generally, the world around us, you really hit me in the forehead by noting that this also applies to ONESELF, from within: As someone who has struggled with impostor syndrome (and much deeper, darker crapola), this is critical. Only by committing to giving to ourselves can we receive that goodness from within; it's an "inside job."
Larry, that's the essence: "It's an inside job." You know how when you write something and then someone else reads it and distills the meaning or one of the meanings down to the core? That's what you just did for me here.
Last week a friend of mine came across this piece and emailed me about it. Then another person did this weekend. And now you have. As a result of hearing from you, I reread the piece a few times (and cringed as I would write some things differently and more economically today) and discovered, through my own words, that there's an aspect of my life where I'm stuck, wanting to know the future, and am not taking initiate and action. Those life lessons we think we learn, recycle back to us in other circumstances when we haven't fully learned them yet.
So thank you. While you feel contributed to by me, I'm being contributed to by you, big time, through your reading and your thoughts back to me. I'm deeply grateful, Larry.
That, James, is what we call a "win-win." I'm happy to help with this ongoing give and take. It's funny how being a part of Write Hearted involves acting in ways that are, well, right-hearted. (Rick didn't pick that name by accident...)
Not five minutes ago, I mentioned to my roommate how Life gives us the same teacher and the same lesson over and over and over ... until we begin to get it.
This was beautifully written and packed with such an important lesson that, for me, was driven home by this analogy: "The Dead Sea cannot sustain life and cannot even hold on to itself." and reinforced with the touching story you shared. In the uncertain period of my life I find myself in now, I have done everything except surrender to not-knowing. It goes against every fiber of my being to not know what the future has in store for me. Having greater trust and a deeper faith and learning to give and receive openly are such powerful yet overlooked antidotes to the problems we face. "Give and you shall receive" has been a motto of mine the last few weeks and this essay unveiled a deeper level to those words. Thank you for writing this James.
"It goes against every fiber of my being to not know what the future has in store for me."
So true Jack.
One thing I've discovered in life is that when the unknowable future turns into the present, what manifests is often way more/better/significant, etc than the future I was imagining or would have settled for if I could have known it or wished it into existence. AAT age 57, having experienced that, it becomes a little easier to not need to know it. But just a little easier :)
Wonderful essay and remembering how life is only worth living in the giving to others. You write so eloquently and love this line "I gave myself love, loving myself for all I was and still wasn’t." That line right there hit me hard. Thanks for these lovely words.
Kirk, thanks for the kind words pal. I’m so glad that line resonated with you. Up until that point in time in life I spent a lot of mental energy shaming myself and not loving myself for my “flaws.” I discovered that one of the greatest gifts we can give (there’s that word) ourselves is to love ourselves, unconditionally, no matter what.
It was really nice to be with you this weekend. There we many folks and I would have loved some more time together. Next time or maybe a separate trip Karen and I can make to SLC.
I saved your post until I really had space to embody it. Life, you, and Karen are miracles - and just like the seas that inspired you, beings of the natural order of things. Thank you for sharing this very moving story - it personifies what giving look like.
Some essays feel like a pure honor to read, this is one of them. I think there is something so potently rich about returning "home" to the child and allowing a healing journey to start at the origin.
I hope you feel immense pride in this essay James. It is quite the masterpiece. Bravo
Oh, Haley - I so appreciate you and what you say here. In the piece, when I referenced George Costanza and to this day not knowing why I retreated to my childhood home - I now know, thanks to what you shared. Indeed the healing did start at the origin. Your insight here is brilliant and is a GIFT to me - thank you for giving it. I humbly receive it :)
A metaphor I want to put in my pocket and carry around forever, James. Your honesty throughout this piece is captivating, admirable, something to live by as much as this beautiful metaphor.
Thank you, Alissa. It's a very useful metaphor to have in one's pocket (lovely perspective!) I catch myself heading for the DS from time to time, especially when my ego gets activated. And then I turn around, or at least stop the direction I'm going. I'm grateful for your feedback and for drawing out Karen's pronounced role in the story.
A story of Nature. Honoring the nature of Life, in all of its expressions. The life-giving nature of the Sea of Galilee, the hyper-saline nature of the Dead Sea; Karen's depth of patience, of knowingness and understanding; and James' nature of openness of self-discovery, self-awareness and infinite love. Beautifully written James. Thank you.
DW, thank you. You’re a grand, miraculous, contribution to me. Thank you. One thing I left out of the essay is that the Dead Sea’s hype-saline nature gives to tourists who come to read a book sitting up in the water. It’s impossible to sink because of the salt. Even the Dead Sea gives. I love you buddy.
James, this is beautiful. The rivers are rich metaphors for human giving and receiving. It’s a tribute to both you and Karen that you each did what you needed to do: you did your internal work of discovery and preparation and she graced your relationship with patience and understanding. Such a lovely piece.
Hi Kathy, Thank you for your acknowledgement. I so appreciate it. I hope your trip was wonderful and I look forward to staying in touch and reading more of your pieces!
Likewise, James. Yours, too. Your writing is rich. It’s beautiful.
Lake Superior was insanely great, thanks. Water-lover’s paradise.
Im speechless-so will just say THANK YOU! Your story is a special gift!
Megan, you’re welcome. And thank you back for being such a special gift in my life for forty years!!!
This is an amazing piece, rich in detail and beautifully written. On behalf of all of your readers, thank you for your personal openness in writing it and for the wonderful lesson for all. Oh, and the picture taken on the beach with iPhone 1 is amazing.
Hi Drake, Thank you for the heartfelt note back to me. As the writing was coming through me, it kind of felt like my guts were splaying out on the table. :)
Interestingly, another aspect of giving and receiving that I discovered is that as I was reliving that time in my life and calling up the memories, I felt like I was receiving Karen's gifts all over again. And that I was also giving and receiving the gifts of self-love and compassion to myself, all over AGAIN. Perhaps memories can serve the flow of giving and receiving in a similar manner as in the moment.
Thank you again Drake.
Thanks for Sharing yourself and your story with us James, this was a great story
Thank you Michael - and thank you for taking the time to tell me :)
What a beautiful and raw piece, full of wisdom for us all!
Thank you, Ann. I appreciate it.
This was so interesting James! Thanks for sharing this parable and also your own personal story, it’s given me a lot to think about!
Michelle, thank you so much.
This is an essay only you could write, James. You do a wonderful job weaving the insights from two-seas metaphor into the story of you and Karen, and the way you honor her with your gratitude is very touching.
It was a pleasure to see this piece shape, and it’s clear that these ideas are resonating with your readers (including me). Great work!
Garrett, thank you so much. Supremely grateful to you. I look forward to continuing our work together!
Beautiful and inspiring story, James. And also thought provoking. It's kicked off a whole process for me about what's alive and what's dead and perception. Because the dead sea is teeming with algae and minerals that heal skin and rheumatoid conditions. Yet, if you live in or like the dead sea, you're going nowhere and you're alone!
Hi Lyssa, you're so right about the distinction between living like the Dead Sea, vs. the Dead Sea having gifts to offer the world. Thank you for sharing that - it is important!
Again, very appreciated!
Thank you, James, for your very kind, insightful gift to your readers, one that I gratefully accept.
While your empowering story about the giving/receiving dynamic immediately applies to others and, more generally, the world around us, you really hit me in the forehead by noting that this also applies to ONESELF, from within: As someone who has struggled with impostor syndrome (and much deeper, darker crapola), this is critical. Only by committing to giving to ourselves can we receive that goodness from within; it's an "inside job."
It’s not self-centeredness. It’s self-love.
We appreciate your gift.
Larry, that's the essence: "It's an inside job." You know how when you write something and then someone else reads it and distills the meaning or one of the meanings down to the core? That's what you just did for me here.
Last week a friend of mine came across this piece and emailed me about it. Then another person did this weekend. And now you have. As a result of hearing from you, I reread the piece a few times (and cringed as I would write some things differently and more economically today) and discovered, through my own words, that there's an aspect of my life where I'm stuck, wanting to know the future, and am not taking initiate and action. Those life lessons we think we learn, recycle back to us in other circumstances when we haven't fully learned them yet.
So thank you. While you feel contributed to by me, I'm being contributed to by you, big time, through your reading and your thoughts back to me. I'm deeply grateful, Larry.
That, James, is what we call a "win-win." I'm happy to help with this ongoing give and take. It's funny how being a part of Write Hearted involves acting in ways that are, well, right-hearted. (Rick didn't pick that name by accident...)
Not five minutes ago, I mentioned to my roommate how Life gives us the same teacher and the same lesson over and over and over ... until we begin to get it.
Well, you get it. And we all benefit. Kudos!
This was beautifully written and packed with such an important lesson that, for me, was driven home by this analogy: "The Dead Sea cannot sustain life and cannot even hold on to itself." and reinforced with the touching story you shared. In the uncertain period of my life I find myself in now, I have done everything except surrender to not-knowing. It goes against every fiber of my being to not know what the future has in store for me. Having greater trust and a deeper faith and learning to give and receive openly are such powerful yet overlooked antidotes to the problems we face. "Give and you shall receive" has been a motto of mine the last few weeks and this essay unveiled a deeper level to those words. Thank you for writing this James.
"It goes against every fiber of my being to not know what the future has in store for me."
So true Jack.
One thing I've discovered in life is that when the unknowable future turns into the present, what manifests is often way more/better/significant, etc than the future I was imagining or would have settled for if I could have known it or wished it into existence. AAT age 57, having experienced that, it becomes a little easier to not need to know it. But just a little easier :)
I will take solace in your words over these next few months. Thanks James.
Wonderful essay and remembering how life is only worth living in the giving to others. You write so eloquently and love this line "I gave myself love, loving myself for all I was and still wasn’t." That line right there hit me hard. Thanks for these lovely words.
Kirk, thanks for the kind words pal. I’m so glad that line resonated with you. Up until that point in time in life I spent a lot of mental energy shaming myself and not loving myself for my “flaws.” I discovered that one of the greatest gifts we can give (there’s that word) ourselves is to love ourselves, unconditionally, no matter what.
It was really nice to be with you this weekend. There we many folks and I would have loved some more time together. Next time or maybe a separate trip Karen and I can make to SLC.
I saved your post until I really had space to embody it. Life, you, and Karen are miracles - and just like the seas that inspired you, beings of the natural order of things. Thank you for sharing this very moving story - it personifies what giving look like.
Rich, I’m honored by your reply - as you are a hallmark of giving and service to others in my life 🙏.
Some essays feel like a pure honor to read, this is one of them. I think there is something so potently rich about returning "home" to the child and allowing a healing journey to start at the origin.
I hope you feel immense pride in this essay James. It is quite the masterpiece. Bravo
Oh, Haley - I so appreciate you and what you say here. In the piece, when I referenced George Costanza and to this day not knowing why I retreated to my childhood home - I now know, thanks to what you shared. Indeed the healing did start at the origin. Your insight here is brilliant and is a GIFT to me - thank you for giving it. I humbly receive it :)
A metaphor I want to put in my pocket and carry around forever, James. Your honesty throughout this piece is captivating, admirable, something to live by as much as this beautiful metaphor.
Thank you, Alissa. It's a very useful metaphor to have in one's pocket (lovely perspective!) I catch myself heading for the DS from time to time, especially when my ego gets activated. And then I turn around, or at least stop the direction I'm going. I'm grateful for your feedback and for drawing out Karen's pronounced role in the story.
What a beautiful, rich, personal piece. Thanks for writing this, James. I'll always keep this parable and story close at heart.
John, thank you so much. I appreciate it. This one - like Buttered Toast was especially fun (and challenging) to write.
A story of Nature. Honoring the nature of Life, in all of its expressions. The life-giving nature of the Sea of Galilee, the hyper-saline nature of the Dead Sea; Karen's depth of patience, of knowingness and understanding; and James' nature of openness of self-discovery, self-awareness and infinite love. Beautifully written James. Thank you.
DW, thank you. You’re a grand, miraculous, contribution to me. Thank you. One thing I left out of the essay is that the Dead Sea’s hype-saline nature gives to tourists who come to read a book sitting up in the water. It’s impossible to sink because of the salt. Even the Dead Sea gives. I love you buddy.