THE INKWELL SOUL

Tag: #love

  • A New Dawn: Finding Grace in the Recurrence

    The whisper of recurrence, though a cruel sound, has become a startling call to a deeper way of living. There is a peculiar clarity that comes when one stands face – to – face with a stark biological truth: an adversary within. This awareness, sharp and immediate, has not diminished life, but intensified it – coloring every moment with a profound, almost startling grace.

    This journey is not one I walk alone. It has illuminated the preciousness of my “army” – the loved ones who stand guard around my well-being. Their commitment is the truest form of love, manifesting in hours spent researching, in nourishing meals prepared with meticulous care, and in the sheer constancy of their presence. They are the earthly anchors who refuse to let me drift.

    The changes within my daily life are testaments to this fight, but they are also acts of self-reclamation. Eating choices have transformed from casual decisions into mindful commitments to healing. My mental fortitude is not a given; it is a muscle I work daily, building resilience through intentional positive thinking. The collective effort – the fusion of personal discipline and the inspiring research poured over by everyone in my circle – has created a shield of knowledge.

    I am carried on the wings of this support, a dual face of the tangible and the spiritual. The army of this earth provides the strength to face the daily treatment, the fears, and the shifts. The army from the heavens provides an ethereal peace and unwavering hope.

    Without this incredible outpouring – this collective well of strength, wisdom, and love, I know I would falter. Instead, I stand today, not merely fighting a “dis-ease”, but thriving through a renewed appreciation for life’s beautiful fragility. For this unparalleled, abundant support, my heart overflows with eternal gratitude. It is, in every sense, a blessing.

  • The Weight of My Coin

    I am, indeed, the coin, holding within me the intricate dance of joy and sorrow, of profound connection and devastating absence. My life has been rich with different kinds of love, each right for the season it occupied. I’ve known partnership and companionship in marriages, and I honor those experiences and the unique love they brought into my life.

    In 2006, one side of my coin shimmered with an unbearable brightness: the discovery of my soulmate. This was a love so deep, so profound, it surely felt like destiny – a connection unlike any I had known. Those two years of marriage, though tragically brief, imprinted an experience of love that many only dream of. That was the blessing, the side of the coin etched with an exquisite beauty.

    Then, in 2009, the coin flipped with a force that shattered my world. The other side revealed itself, stark

    and brutal – the sudden, unthinkable loss that stripped away not just my husband, but a piece of my very being. That was the suffering, the profound grief that lingered long after the immediate shock faded. I bore witness to life’s capacity for both immeasurable gift and excruciating theft, all within the span of a few years.

    Now, as I navigate the dating world, a cancer survivor with the ghost of a potential recurrence whispering in the background, I feel the weight of that same coin in a new, acutely personal way. I carry the memory of that extraordinary love, a testament to my capacity for deep connection. This is the enduring strength, the resilience, the understanding of what truly profound intimacy feels like.

    Yet, alongside this richness, there’s the palpable fear of history repeating itself, not just for me, but for those I might allow into my heart. I’ve lived through the agony of losing the love of my life, and that pain was unbearable. The thought of inviting someone new into my world, only for them to potentially experience that same devastating loss if my cancer were to return and take me…. it’s a burden I honestly struggle with. How can I ask someone to risk that kind of heartbreak? How can I knowingly put them through the watching, the hoping, the ultimate grief, when I know precisely how soul-crushing that experience is? It’s a deeply protective instinct, this reluctance to inflict potential pain on another, especially when I’ve felt its full force myself.

    And yet, despite this overwhelming concern, I still yearn for it – that profound, all-consuming love again. The blessing of experiencing it once has shown me what’s possible, what truly enriches life. This isn’t a simple “two sides” scenario; it’s a dynamic, ever-present reality. My coin spins, sometimes showing the vibrant imprint of love found, sometimes the stark emptiness of love lost, and now, the profound vulnerability of daring to love again while acknowledging life’s inherent fragility. I am holding both sides of that coin, longing for connection while grappling with the very real cost it might exact on the heart of another.

  • Mornings

    I enjoy early mornings. The fact that I was given another day to live is always a blessing. My mornings are a time where I reflect on my life’s experiences. Memories play out in my mind. As I sip my coffee I enjoy its bold flavor…warming me as it travels down to my stomach. The kitties come over to me to say good morning, one by one. A smile crosses my lips… so soft… such innocent little creatures. My ears perk up as I hear the dog sleeping under the table next to me. He has the cutest little snore. The birds are happily chirping outside… building nests, feeding babies and gossiping I am sure! I breathe. Just being in the moment is a blessing. As I take it all in, a little smile crosses my face. My shoulders relax and I … just … am. This is peace. This is hope. This is love.

    Mornings Embrace The quiet arrives with the dawn, another day, a whispered gift, I settle, coffee’s dark richness a warmth spreading inside. Memories unfold, a gentle film of a life lived, played out in the soft light. One by one, cats greet the new day, their small bodies brushing mine, innocence in their purrs, a smile blossoming on my face. Beneath the table, a soft, rhythmic snore from the dog, a comforting hum. Outside, the birds begin their chorus – chirping, building, nurturing, their secrets carried on the breeze. A deep breath in, a quiet exhale. Just in the moment. This stillness. Shoulders release their hold. A simple being. This is peace. This is hope. This is love.

  • The Silent Watcher

    The cacophony of the mind is a relentless orchestra, a symphony of anxieties, judgments, and echoes of past hurts. It’s a crowded marketplace where every vendor screams for attention, each offering a different version of “you”. And in that clamor, it’s easy to mistake the noise for your very essence.

    Eckhart Tolle’s words, a quiet whisper in the storm, offer a different perspective: “Be the silent watcher of your thoughts and behavior. You are beneath the thinker. You are the stillness beneath the mental noise. You are the love and joy beneath the pain.”

    It’s a radical shift, a call to step outside the swirling vortex of our mental narratives. To become the observer, not the protagonist, of our internal drama. To recognize that the thoughts that parade through our minds, the behaviors we enact, are not us, but rather fleeting phenomena, like clouds drifting across the vast expanse of the sky.

    This “silent watcher” is not a judge, nor a critic. It is the awareness that simply is, the still point in the turning world. It is the space between the thoughts, the pause before the reaction. It is the quiet understanding that beneath the surface turbulence, there lies a deep, unwavering stillness.

    The pain, the heartbreak, the sense of betrayal – these are real, and they demand to be felt. But they are not the totality of your being. They are temporary visitors, storms that rage and then subside, leaving behind a clearer sky. Beneath the pain, like a hidden spring, flows the pure, unadulterated essence of love and joy.

    To live by this is not a passive acceptance of suffering. It is an active practice of dis-identification. It’s the daily, sometimes hourly, reminder that you are not your thoughts, your emotions, your circumstances. You are the vast, silent awareness that holds them all.

    Imagine yourself as a clear, still pond. The thoughts and emotions are ripples on the surface, disturbing the calm. But the pond itself remains unchanged, deep and serene. The practice is to return to that stillness, to anchor yourself in the awareness that underlies the ever-changing surface.

    This is not a quick fix, nor a magic formula. It is a journey of self-discovery, a gradual unveiling of the truth that lies within. It’s a process of learning to recognize the mental noise for what it is – just noise – and to find the quiet strength that resides in the stillness beneath.

    With each moment of conscious awareness, with each breath taken in the present, you reclaim your power. You step out of the illusion of the mind and into the reality of your being. You discover that you are not defined by the pain, but by the love and joy that reside within, waiting to be rediscovered. You are the silent watcher, the stillness, the love, and the joy. And that, is your true enduring self.

  • A Poem: Because Love…

    A flicker in the chest, they call it love,
    but maybe it’s the spark igniting the forge.
    “Side effect,” the words whisper,
    a byproduct of something wilder, deeper.

    Tell me, honestly,
    have you ever held something dear,
    a sunrise painted across a lover’s face,
    the way a child’s laughter spills like spilled starlight,
    and not felt the urge, the ache,
    to capture it, to hold it, to …make?

    A song, a clumsy melody hummed in the shower,
    a poem scribbled on a napkin, stained with coffee,
    a prayer, a desperate plea to the uncaring sky,
    even a mess, a chaotic burst of paint,
    a kitchen floor sticky with the remnants of late night baking,
    a testament to shared joy.

    Love, they say, is blind,
    but I say it’s the only thing that sees too much,
    sees the fleeting beauty, the fragile moments,
    the way the world is always slipping through our fingers.

    And in the reckless abandon,
    it demands immortality.
    Not in stone or bronze,
    but in the echoes of a song sung late at night,
    in the worn pages of a love letter,
    in the memories we build, brick by fragile brick,
    a legacy of feeling, a monument to the heart’s wild,
    untamed creation.

    Because love, it doesn’t just feel, it …does.
    It spills out, it overflows, it paints the world.
    in the colors of our deepest desires,
    leaving behind a trail of art, a testament
    to the messy, beautiful, undeniable truth:
    we were here, we loved, we…made.

    By Elizabeth Proett

  • The Superposition of Soulmates: A Quantum Love Story

    Quantum physics, with its mind-bending concepts of superposition and entanglement, seems a universe away from the messy, emotional realm of love. Yet, lately, I’ve found myself pondering the curious parallels. Perhaps, just perhaps, the search for “the one” isn’t so different from the dance of subatomic particles.

    Think about it: before you meet someone special, they exist in a state of superposition. They are, potentially, everything and nothing to you. A collection of possibilities, a wave function of potential compatibility. They are the barista with the kind smile, the person whose profile you scrolled past on the dating app, the stranger whose laugh you overheard in a bookstore. They exist in a probabilistic cloud, their potential as your soulmate unquantified, undefined. Until, that is, you observe them.

    The act of meeting, of truly seeing someone, is akin to a quantum measurement. It collapses the wave function. Suddenly, they are no longer a collection of possibilities, but a concrete individual, standing before you in sharp focus. The infinite potential narrows down to a specific person, with their quirks and charms, their history and hopes. The act of connection, of shared laughter or a lingering glance, is the interaction that forces them into a defined state – either a potential partner or not.

    And then there’s entanglement. Quantum entanglement describes how two particles can become linked, their fates intertwined regardless of the distance separating them. Doesn’t this resonate with the feeling of deep connection, of a bond that transcends physical proximity? The feeling that you just ‘know’ someone, that their thoughts and feelings echo within you, even when miles apart. Perhaps this isn’t just romantic fancy, but a kind of emotional entanglement, a connection forged on a deeper, almost subatomic level.

    There’s no formula for calculating the probability of finding your soulmate. But the metaphors resonate. Just as quantum particles exist in a state of uncertainty until observed, so too does love seem to operate on a principle of chance and destiny. It requires a leap of faith, a willingness to collapse the wave function and see what emerges. It demands vulnerability, the courage to entangle your heart with another, knowing that the connection, while potentially transformative, could also lead to heartbreak.

    But maybe, just maybe, by embracing the uncertainty, by allowing ourselves to be observed and to observe others with open hearts, we increase the probability of finding our own entangled soulmate. Maybe, just maybe, love is as mysterious and wonderful as the quantum world itself.

    *Is The Collapse of Wave Function at the Heart of Reality? medium.com

    *What Is Quantum Entanglement? NASA Science science.nasa.gov

  • My Biggest Toxic Trait

    “My biggest toxic trait is…I know how to love but I don’t know how to believe I’m loved.” The words, stark and honest, hit a nerve. It’s a confession, a raw admission of deep-seated vulnerability. It’s about the chasm between knowing how to give love and accepting it in return. It’s a painful paradox, a heart that overflows with affection yet struggles to receive it.

    This isn’t just about romantic love. It bleeds into every facet of connection – friendships, family, community. It’s the gnawing feeling that I’m on a periphery, always extending a hand while bracing for rejection. It’s the fear that if people truly knew me, the messy, imperfect me, the love would vanish like the morning mist.

    I know how to love. I love deeply, passionately, completely. I love with every fiber of my being, offering my heart freely, without reservation. I nurture connections, celebrate milestones, offer support, give gifts, express affection – the full repertoire of love languages flows effortlessly from me. It’s innate, a part of who I am.

    But believing I’m loved? That’s the battleground. That’s where the insecurities whisper their insidious lies. “You’re not worthy.” “You’re too much.” “They don’t really care.” The voices are relentless, eroding my self-worth, making me question the sincerity of every embrace, every compliment, every expression of affection.

    It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, this inability to accept love, I push people away, create distance, test their loyalty, all subconsciously, all driven by the fear of being hurt, of being proven right – that I’m not lovable. And in doing so, I create the very reality that I dread.

    It’s exhausting, this constant push and pull, this internal war between the heart that wants to connect and the mind that sabotages every opportunity. It’s a lonely existence, even surrounded by people who care. It’s like being on the outside looking in, watching love flow between others, wondering if I’ll every truly be a part of it.

    This quote, it’s a mirror reflecting my deepest fear – the fear of vulnerability, the fear of not being enough. It’s a call to self-awareness, a recognition of a toxic pattern that needs to be broken. It’s a reminder that healing begins with acknowledging the wound.

    Learning to believe I am loved is a journey, a long and arduous one. It requires dismantling the wall I have built around my heart, challenging the negative voices, and embracing vulnerability with open arms. It means accepting the love offered, even when it feels uncomfortable, even when a part of me whispers, “This can’t be real.”

    It’s about self-compassion, recognizing my worthiness, understanding that I am deserving of love, just as I am. It’s about rewriting the narrative, silencing the inner critic, and allowing myself to be loved, truly loved, without reservation or fear. It’s about finally believing that the love I so freely give can also be mine to receive. It’s about coming home to myself, accepting all the pieces, and finally understanding that I am enough. And in that acceptance, opening myself to the boundless possibilities of love.

  • You’re Beginning to Understand

    “You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you? That the whole world is inside you: in your perspectives and in your heart. That to be able to find peace, you must be at peace with yourself first; and once you learn how to master this, you will be protected from everything that makes you feel like you can not go on, that with this gift of recognizing yourself, even when you are alone, you will never be lonely.”

    “You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you?” The words, posed as a question, feel more like a gentle affirmation, a quiet recognition of a truth slowly dawning within. It’s a truth about the self, about the intricate connection between inner peace and outer experience.

    The world, it’s not “out there”, separate and distinct from me. It’s not something that happens to me, but rather something I carry within me, a landscape shaped by my perceptions, colored by my emotions, defined by the stories I tell myself about who I am and my place in the universe. It’s a profound realization, this understanding that I am the architect of my own reality, the curator of my inner world.

    To find peace, the quote suggests, I must first be at peace with myself. Not the idealized self I sometimes aspire to be, but the real, flawed, beautifully imperfect self that I am in the moment. It’s about accepting my strengths and weaknesses, my joys and sorrows, my light and my shadow, and recognizing that they are all integral parts of the intricate tapestry of my being. It’s about self-compassion, forgiveness, and embracing the journey of self-discovery with curiosity and kindness.

    And to truly enjoy life, I must enjoy who I am. This feels like a radical act in a world that constantly bombards us with messages of inadequacy, urging us to strive for an ever-elusive “better” version of ourselves. But the truth is, joy cannot be found in the pursuit of perfection; it blossoms in the fertile ground of self-acceptance. It’s about celebrating my unique gifts, honoring my authentic voice, and finding delight in the simple fact of my existence.

    Mastering this, the quote promises, will be a form of protection. Not a shield against external challenges, but an inner strength, a resilience that allows me to navigate the inevitable storms of life without being completely destroyed. When I know who I am, when I accept and love myself unconditionally, I am anchored. I can weather the criticisms, the setbacks, the disappointments, because my sense of worth comes from within, not from external validation.

    The most powerful promise lies in the final words: “even when you are alone, you will never be lonely.” Loneliness, in its deepest sense, is a feeling of disconnection, a sense of being separate from myself and the world around me. But when I recognize that the whole world resides within me, when I cultivate a deep and loving relationship with myself, I am never truly alone. I carry within me a source of infinite companionship, a wellspring of creativity, resilience, and love.

    This isn’t just about solitude; it’s about finding solace in my own company, about recognizing my inherent worth, about understanding that I am enough. It’s about coming home to myself, embracing all the facets of my being, and discovering that within this inner landscape lies a peace that transcends circumstance, a joy that radiates from within, and a love that never fades. It’s about understanding that I am the world, and in that understanding, finding a profound and unshakeable sense of belonging.