I sold some shares, but on a net basis, significantly increased my ownership.
I do believe that God is with us even when we're at our craziest and that this goodness guides, provides, and protects.
Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day numbness, silence.
For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.
All those years I fell for the great palace lie that grief should be gotten over as quickly as possible and as privately. But, what I've discovered is that the lifelong fear of grief keeps us in a barren, isolated place, and that only grieving can heal grief. The passage of time will lessen the acuteness, but time alone, without the direct experience of grief, will not heal it.
If you always dreamed of writing a novel or a memoir, and you used to love to write, and were pretty good at it, will it break your heart if it turns out you never got around to it? If you wake up one day at eighty, will you feel nonchalant that something always took precedence over a daily commitment to discovering your creative spirit? If not--if this very thought fills you with regret--then what are you waiting for?
If we stay where we are, where we're stuck, where we're comfortable and safe, we die there. . . When nothing new can get in, that's death.
I work with this wonderful five-piece band, The Tony Guerrero Quintet, along with Kate Flannery, who was Meredith the Drunk in The Office, and Tim Davis, who was the vocal arranger on Glee. The three of us sing, and the band is amazing. We've been working together for about two years. So, we decided to do a Christmas album in July.
Tess," I say. "I'm going to head down to the water. I'll be back in a minute. " "You sure you can make it by yourself?" she asks. "I'll be fine. " I smile. "If you see me floating unconscious out to sea,though-by all means,come and get me.
If I go out one night, I must stay in the next. It's the same with my golf. If I play one day, I don't play the next. I try to pace myself.
The less you know, the more I comprehend. You don't have to drag me down, I descend.