You are 37 when you first fall in love –properly, passionately, the way you dreamed of when you scribbled furiously in your teenage notebooks and that has eluded you until precisely this moment in a dusty Cairo hotel. It is not love at first sight and there is no Hollywood meet-cute, but there is a touching of souls, as Joni Mitchell once sang, that reverberates long after you meet him.
Months later, you leave everything you know and traverse continents to go back to him and a new life in the city he has bequeathed you. Over the next three years, you learn that Great Loves can be irrational and painful, full of terrible highs and soaring lows, that passion is overrated, and it is never good, as someone once told you, to love another person more than you love yourself. One day, you wake up and realise that love is not enough.
Love, in fact, is never enough.
You are 28 when you experience death–sudden, tragic, wrenching–for the first time. On a bright summer’s day in your office in London, you get a call from a policeman who tells you that your oldest sister, who has been missing for months, has been found dead in a car park overlooking the Cornish coast. You drop everything and run out for shelter in a Soho doorway, watching the world continue to turn as yours changes forever.
Late that night, you make the five-hour drive down to a Cornish hospital with your mother and sister to identify her, in the tiny chapel where they have laid out her body, and receive a crash course in pain, the finality of death, and the meaning of loss. You discover what it’s like to grieve under a terrible litany of shoulda/woulda/couldas and what ifs that spin endlessly into a vortex and threaten to suck you into the darkness.
For a long time after, you dream that she is with you–at a gathering or a party or at home. She gets up to go, as she always does, and you urge her to stay – over and over again. She never listens.
(You are 14 the first time a boy calls you beautiful. Late one summer night, by the swings in Oakmere Park, where you have gone with a friend for a walk. He whispers into your ear urgently and you smile in a way that suggests you’re used to such things. Inside you know that tomorrow you will put on your ugly school uniform and go back to normal life.)
You are 5 years and six months old when your parents take you and your sisters from your home in England and deposit you in a Catholic boarding school in a South Indian hill station – once the summer retreat of the colonial English. You do not realise it then but you will be ensconced there for the next seven years, only flying back home to England for the winter and summer holidays.
Twice a year for the next seven years, you will dread the long tunnel at the entrance to Heathrow airport, which you will always associate with your mother’s sobs as she tries to say goodbye. When you get to the school in the Indian hill station, you will cry into your pillow quietly for three nights as great waves of homesickness and guilt and regret consume you, until one morning you wake up and the strange boarding school has become your home again.
You will also cry each time you leave the school to go home for the holidays.
You are 33 – the age your sister was when she died (and Jesus)–an age you secretly thought you would never reach because you thought you had been cursed to die too, like the heroine of some morbid fairytale. You have spent the last five years caring less and less about your life, drinking too much, partying more recklessly, haunting crowded bars and clubs, indulging in careless flings and desperate love affairs, going through the motions in a career you hate more and more.
On your 33rd birthday, you leave the job, end the last relationship, and clear out your cupboards. At some point during this year, you will embark on a new career as a journalist, which you will embrace like it is your calling. For the first time in your life, you are proud of what you do.
You are 12 when your mother takes you out of your boarding school and puts you in a school near your home in England. You don’t know it then but she has begged the headmaster to let you in, even though he knows nothing about you – a strange Indian child in his very English school. He puts you in the bottom class of your year, with kids who already know they’re destined for hours of woodworking lessons and dreary home ec classes.
You realise for the first time that you look different from your classmates, who also seem strange to you in their overwhelming whiteness and brash confidence and determination to break the rules. Being around boys for the first time makes you self-conscious. You get called a Paki on your way home by two awkward boys from the other school in the neighbourhood, on the other side of town. You don’t know who’s more embarrassed. The next term, you’re moved up to the top set and a different world.
You are 39, four months from your 40th birthday, when you watch your father take his last racking breath in a quiet hospice bed in a North London suburb. He has been diagnosed with a brain tumour almost exactly two months earlier. You fly back home to England from Cairo when your sister tells you this, steeling yourself for your entry into the darkness once more.
Unlike your sister’s passing, however, your father’s death offers a chance at redemption. Your relationship with him has long been strained but you visit him twice a day, feed him, sit with him and try somehow to transmit all the love you can muster when you hold his hand. He cannot speak but his eyes follow you around the room as you move and you hope that, somewhere inside, he recognises that he is not alone.
After he dies, you feel an overwhelming urge to have a child–a primal call, you think, to complete the circle of life. It doesn’t happen.
You are 42 and in a committed relationship for the first time in your life. You, who have always fled commitment and run headlong into the arms of men incapable of giving it to you, are bowled over now by the sweetness of love and how it doesn’t have to hurt or feel like you’re jumping into the darkness without a safety net and how you can love from a place of strength without losing parts of yourself, rather than going into battle and coming out with the scars.
You learn what it’s like to love and be loved unconditionally, when you’re PMS’ing and grouchy, on your fat days and bad hair days, and the days when you’re tired and vulnerable and don’t want to get out of bed. You understand for the first time what it is to seek shelter in another’s arms, and that it is possible to trust, that what feels like the end often isn’t, and that everything is possible if you take a leap of faith.
You are 45 when you start writing again, properly. By now, you have given up much in your life–sugar, alcohol, cigarettes, careless love affairs with careless men. You try to eat well, exercise regularly, dabble in meditation and yoga to calm the restless soul. Sometimes you miss the old you, the sense of freedom, the open roads, the unpredictability and terrible glamour of a life less lived.
But by and large you think–and hope–this:
Slowly, very slowly, you are coming home.
Black coffee and cigarettes 
I love the way you structured this piece. Nice writing!
Thank you!
I agree! You are a brilliant writer, incisive and compelling. This is a wonderful narrative. I see myself in your words and experiences. My condolences for your father and sister. I lost my sister tragically 2 years ago; I felt your pain. I almost lost my dad this summer to stroke; I was like you, at his bedside every day for as many hours as my job allowed.
So sorry to hear that, Melinda – I hope you have made peace with her loss as best you can. Thank you so much for the kind words.
You’re welcome. I am still working on making that peace.
This is an awesome piece of age perspective ! Very well done! Thank you for sharing your experiences..
Totally agree
Thank you very much.
Second person. Wow. Tough thing to do well, but this is powerful stuff. Good work.
It’s not amazing generate an imagination that could break barriers through the writing project.
Wow. I felt myself reading this as if it were me at times, going through these exact experiences with feelings to match. You confirm for me that no matter how different our upbringing, there are core, archetypal experiences that connect us all. This is beautiful. Thank you for taking the time to create such a well written piece. #heartstringstugged #amazingwriters #onestowatch #beautiful #brilliant
Thank you so much. I’ve been surprised at how much something so personal has resonated – good to know somehow. Take care and all best.
Wonderful. Love the structure
#brilliant
Beautiful writing indeed. Thank you for sharing.
This is beautiful. Thank you.
Wow. Powerful. I read this 5 times and I’ll read it more.
Thank you!
Have you thought of turning this into a novel? I think it would work brilliantly in the time sequence you’ve got here. Would love to read more about all of these experiences. Great work.
Thank you Paula – I hadn’t thought of that actually but it’s an interesting idea. If I ever get the time, I may work on it. Many thanks for the kind words.
Wow Amazing
This is awesome. Love one and each story and I find myself some how in some of the ages! Wow! You made my imagination blow
Shivangi, susanne and theglobalsearch couldn’t be more right.
Very artistic
Shades of Lorrie Moore. Nice riff and a poignant telling. Keep writing!
O dear… This post took my breath away…’kudos to you😀
You can be the same you wish. Its just what you believe. Its all in you and love the way you ended.
That was an interesting read
Beautiful. Thank you.
Thankyou
You know… We worry about our future for no reason. Who knew as the 28 yr old, who was running around with her mom and sister to identify her eldest siblings dead body, that one day she will find peace… In writing! As the 12yr old new kid in the block in England, who had thought that she would have the same strange feelings of loneliness after her father leaves her. Who could have tell that there’ll be true love waiting at the end of these multiple ruining relationships! Life is about Now. Planning is one thing… But presuming a dark future or worrying about life ahead has always been more destructive than preparatory.
Your writing evoked a wonderful perspective on life. hope you churn many such wonderful pieces of art till the of life as you know it.
Cheers.
Till the end of life (as you know it) *
Thank you so much – and yes, life can lead you in strange directions – I think there’s a balance that has to be struck between living in the moment and considering the future. The former has generally always been easier for me in any case : )
This is beautiful
This post lays emphasis on two most important things in the life of a human being..
Endless love for family &
Eternal search for love.
Brilliantly written ma’am 🙂
Thank you!
You’re welcome:)
wow. just wow. i wish i could write like you.
Very sweet to say and thank you – but you will find your own voice – just keep writing!
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | beautifulyou16
Beautiful! Thanks for sharing.
Wabi sabi
Nice one
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | The Butterfly
Wow! Powerful stuff. I found myself identifying with a lot of it. I’ve not read anything written like this before and I’m intrigued by your writing!
Thank you!
This is amazing 🙂
Absolutely wonderful!!
Dammit! You will make many people cry; retracing the footsteps of life. Life is an irony replete with peaks and valleys.
This reminds me of a time when I lost a favourite aunt. Darkness, at the time; became my best refuge as I was left begging that night should go on and keep going forever. But hey, the sun has a mind of its own, it rises no matter our circumstances. In life you fall, you stumble, you trip but what matters is that to keep your sanity, you have to dust yourself off and face the light that the sun brings along with it, shining exposingly on your miseries, sorrows, secrets and so forth.
This was beautiful yet emotionally provocative reading.
Thank you for this.
Thank you so much. And yes, life goes on regardless – I’ve found that I’m very grateful for the aging process, by and large, and all the things you learn along the way. take care and all best.
It is true. The aging process is inevitable though in our high-school-teen-years we tend to think age freezes for eternity.
Happy new year to you, Sunnyrap.
I have re-read your masterpiece, The Art of Wabi-Sabi this morning and I found it, just like the first time, very much a beautiful piece of writing.
I have shared it on my Facebook page.
Thank you for the kind words – happy new year to you too!
Intriguing style. Many thanks.
Easy flow back and forth through time, just like the title that sets our minds on its course. Thanks!
Reblogged this on The Flamboyance of my universe.
Beautiful piece! 🙂
Oh yay! For your beautiful complex post, your beautiful complex life, and this collectively beautiful messy journey.
Thank you!
This piece is tear provoking. Beautifully written – straight from the heart!
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | callmeklowii
What beautiful writing!
Thanks for the lesson of perspectve, full of wonder..
So well written! Congratulations …
This is a really beautiful piece; wise, moving, humorous, real – great work! H x
Great writing. Thumbs up!
Nice work, great jobs.
A great “heart stretching” morning exercise! Thank you
I went back and forth in retrospect and thought about events at specific ages. It has been quite a journey. Thanks for the quote and for stopping by Melba Christie and Poemattic.
Awesome xx
I found myself emotionally touched and intellectually fascinated by this post. Laying bare such difficult episodes feels very courageous and moving, while I find my mind wondering why the jumping timeline and why the second person voice?
Hello – this piece wasn’t planned in any real sense – it was an accumulation of things I’ve thought for a while and happened to come out when I started focusing on writing again. The second person voice just seemed to make sense – it allows you that vital sense of distance perhaps and the jumping timeline also occured quite naturally – our memories are rarely linear in real life so I was unconciously mimicking that, I think.
Wow! So simple yet just tooo amazing
Sounds like words to kive by..
Sometimes you live different lives, in different ages and you just don’t know where you belong! I love your post!
Thank you so much to all of you for your comments – they’re much appreciated, and I’m very touched that such a personal piece has resonated so strongly. Many thanks again. x
this made me feel almost at peace with myself, like I had a sense of coming home. A sense of happiness and joy. This is great for around the holiday times coming.
So pleased it had that effect on you – happy holidays!
This is beautiful
This is beautifully written!
Beautiful powerful and great written work ..
Nice writing. Thqnk you for sharing
Wow nice !
Thanks 🙂
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | Its Cat
I liked this entry, very delicately written. I am only 19 and feel as though I can relate to the entire piece.
You probably hear this a lot but you have your whole life ahead of you. I was a terribly angst-ridden teen but – in case you’re struggling – it does get better and things do start to make sense : ) take care and all best.
Sometimes it seems as though life is but a collection of memorable moments. Those moments mold and shape us. Some are good and some no so, but they are ours. Thank you for sharing some of your moments. God bless.
Thank you!
Pingback: The Week’s End // A Round-up of All Sorts of Interesting Stuff | ZEN AND Π
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | bleedingbutterflies
Absolutely stunning. The “You are” drew me in again at each paragraph. Love.
Life is a gloriously bumpy ride, nice write!
A beautiful piece of writing.
The format alone is beautiful. Your piece reminded me why I love the movie “500 Days of Summer”.
This is lovely!
Wabi-sabi is right, and you have done it great justice here. Incredible. Please don’t ever stop writing, your voice is a gift.
thank you very much.
You are good
Thanks i am agreed
welcome home 🙂
thank you 🙂
Pleasure in mine 🙂
Such a comprehensive definition of what people go through to reach the starting of the cycle they initiated with a loud cry in mother’s arms.
But so you still do black coffee and cigarettes? I’m just looking at the blog title after reading and it cracked me up… in a good way.
Have a Wabi Sabi day! Home is your heart. You’re there. 🙂
Thank you – I gave up smoking about three years ago though I still love my coffee – just not black. I’m keeping the title in homage though 🙂
http://coiffedbyrenee.blogspot.com/2014/11/death.html
I loved reading this.
I loved this. Your style of writing really pulled me in. Beautifully written story.
This moved me, what a great piece- I’m turning 33 on Thursday and I always say that to people- the age Jesus died lol fantastic writing x
Thank you Carmel. The age that a loved one dies is foreever imprinted in your brain so I was always struck by that detail about Jesus. I also see 33 as the age of transformation though – probably because of my own experiences. Happy birthday in advance to you anyway – all the very best!
Awe thank you! Have a lovely week, I’ve shared your article with my friends, lively read 🙂
😃😃😃
By far one of my fav reads on wordpress!
Thank you Lee – that’s high praise indeed.
Thank you for your beautiful words and memories and wisdom. It filled me with a certain kind of humility knowing that we cannot know what the future will bring– but that that needn’t be a bad thing. Quite the opposite.
I’m glad it had that effect on you. Thank you very much.
this is so incredibly beautiful. thank you for writing it and for being you. home is, indeed, where you are…no matter how long it takes to arrive there.
Yes indeed – thank you!
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | Seeking Emerald
Thank you for the great post!
wonderful 🙂 Thank you
Beautiful… I got lost in your words.. A different world yet so familiar..
I began reading this and after a few sentences, witnessed time stand still. That is the mark of phenomenal writing. That is the mark of an exquisite gift being shared around the world from your pen to our hearts and minds. Thank you for this breathtaking, beautiful, pain-filled, freeing piece. Wow.
Thank you so much for the kind words.
Absolutely!
Beautiful.
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | My Crappy Dating Life
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | my virtual verbal diarrhoea
✔
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | Let's look at the bright side.
this was incredible…made you feel something you didn’t know you could feel. well done.
thank you!
This is glorious, I had to wipe through so many shades of tears to reach the end, but it was beautiful to move through so much change so thank you so much.
thank you very much.
Life- a mysterious journey to don’t-know-where-to-go . The way you put it down is remarkable. Slowly, slowly i am coming home.
This post is very intriguing! I love how you structured it also.
indeed life in every stages has each own meaning, wish you all the best,there’s more after fifty 🙂
very well written, wish you all the best!
thank you! and to you.
This was a very personal and affecting piece of writing. I guess we all have key points in our lives that have taught us something, even in a life as humdrum as mine. By the way, I’m impressed by how much you gave up at the age of 45. I never took to cigarettes or careless love affairs with careless men, so those wouldn’t be a problem, and I don’t care much about alcohol one way or the other, but I don’t think I’d ever be able to give up sugar. The thought is just too terrible to contemplate.
lol. I’m a never-say-never person generally and I also think, each to their own. I needed to give up sugar because it was such a trigger food for me – I still have something sweet occasionally but I turn to it much less than I did, especially after giving up the cigarettes. I do also have a drink occasionally too – i just enjoy it less without a cigarette in my hand. haven’t had a cigarette since I gave up though- don’t trust myself. am just in a different phase of my life now, but I’ve also learned that not everything is linear and it could all change. do what makes you happy and keeps you sane and gives you some measure of inner peace – that’s what I aim for 🙂
I admire that you’ve worked out an approach to your life that works for you. I also like your philosophy about aiming for a degree of inner peace.
It’s great, by the way, that you’ve managed to get off cigarettes. I don’t smoke myself, but growing up my grandmother and I were the only one of my extended family who didn’t. Even my younger brother smoked.
Over the years, a number of my relatives have successfully given up, but it always took effort, especially at the beginning. I think a certain amount of back patting is definitely in order! 🙂
Thank you, that was one of the most important relationships of my life – blogged about it here in a piece called ‘the end of the affair.’ Still miss it every now and then and as I said, I never say never, but it probably helped me transition into a calmer period of my life. keep the title of my blog in homage though : )
Great writing.Almost like a life diary.
Beautiful.
I loved this article. https://teenagerdaysblog.wordpress.com/2015/11/22/bieber-fever/ Could you please let me know what you think?
Hello Diana – good on you for starting your own blog – it looks great. Just try and keep writing – the more you do it, the more you’ll find your voice and the easier it becomes.. And most of all, read – everything that interests you and then some – it’s a wonderful way to discover more about the world and constantly improve. Good luck and all best. x
Thanks for your advice! I will definetely take it into account.
I started to cry after reading this. Thank you for writing this. I’m 31 and have been married for almost 10 years. We are not doing well and I’m wondering if this is a turning point in my life. I feel like you do a lot of changing in your 20s and I think 30s will be similar and we are changing differently. I don’t think I’ve dealt with something more difficult than this and I’m glad I can read posts like this, to keep me sane.
Thank you.
Hello you – so sorry to hear that. I stopped by your blog and you write very well, for what that’s worth. I was restless for a very long time and seemed to move constantly – I was always reinventing myself, I think, and there were lots of ups and downs. Getting older has been a blessing because it’s helped me understand and accept myself in my totality, if that makes sense. If you can, try and take some time out for yourself – a vacation somewhere, even a long weekend – or do something you’ve always wanted to do, to see how that makes you feel. You’re still discovering who you are and you may have some tough decisions ahead but in the long run, it helps to follow your heart and be true to yourself. As they say – it isn’t the destination but the journey. And as I always tell my younger friends, it does get better! with love – i wish you courage and strength.
Thank you for your kind words.
Woowhooo U!
Reblogged this on theninththeory.
Enjoyed every word .. Every thought..
Love this article! Beautiful
I love this. I wrote something on wabi sabi as well, i would love if you could take a look.
Reblogged this on Clase CAP.
This was incredible! Very inspiring and motivational. Thank you for sharing.
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in Life) | Daniella Brights
This was a pleasure to read- and very absorbing. I did like the structure.
You are 39 – You read something that blows your mind…
Thank you Martin – high praise indeed. Read – and have followed – your blog – wonderfully funny descriptive writing. Know you think this is hyperbole but the Peruvian story made me lol 🙂
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in Life) | fazer
Beautiful and evocative.
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in Life) | chaitanyapanditblog
Just beautiful. Write on. #amreading
Thank you : )
great post – love the concept of wabi sabi and think you capture essences of it perfectly
Thank you very much.
Rarely does anything move me. This did… much appreciation to you. I get it.
Thank you – very touched that it did.
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | pureambiguity
I sometimes miss the “old me” and adventures that seem so far removed from my current daily rituals. At nearly 39, it’s still difficult for me to “embrace peacefully”… my rebellious spirit is buried, but still there yearning for the chaos I (mostly) avoid. I’m more at peace with who I am now as I embrace my past experiences. Thank you for being vulnerable and sharing your truth.
You’re welcome. I don’t know that our old mes ever disappear completely – like dormant volcanoes perhaps, they’re always lurking in the background. Good to know you’ve found a measure of peace though. Take care and all best.
Wow. Do I know you? It made me feel as though I was reading into my own future. And similar past experiences. It also made me realize how short-lived my carefree life must be… Why I need to go do things that need to be done now.
I’ve realised that the very personal can be surprisingly universal. Have fun doing all the things you need to do – all best : )
Beautifully written and inspiring
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in Life) | Vibeshq's Blog
Great Post, all the greatest posts come from the heart and that definitely did!
I made my blog yesterday, and I’m still in the exploring stage. I have skimmed a few pieces, but none of them have resonated with me- this is the first thing I have read from start to finish and truly enjoyed. I’m 18 years old, and I hope that one day I can write with as much poise and power as you do! Kudos to you for writing such an inspiring piece.
I like the details in this piece you should check my blog i hope you like it
I love this piece. I am 19 and I start reading again. This is the best I have read yet.
Next year, I am 20… and I become focused in life. At school, I separate from the gang, quit smoking, no alcohol… New year resolutions. I will write next year and tell how things go.
I love your piece.
Brilliant idea. Beautiful work.
So how it’s going?
This is brilliant. Well done 😃😃
Very powerful, and extremely well written! Thanks for the read. Well worth it.
Hshdbss
Great!
This was so amazingly inspiring.
Absolutely beautiful; touched many of my own memories, and brought many a tear. Finding it hard to express how much this touched me!
Reblogged this on Thing touched me.
Wonderfully worded. Terrific choice of words. I sure as hell love this piece.
Beautiful!
Such a wonderful read! Thank you so much for sharing your insights into life! Everyday is a gift 😊
Beautifully crafted and so thought provoking in its intensity! Thank you
This is a great post. Well done! I’m doing a creative writing course at university and have literally just been reading about second person today so it was great to read this and put it in perspective properly.
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | aliciamblack
I can’t wait to be 45 years old after reading this.
Perfect ending.
https://ivoicetoday.wordpress.com
Please follow my blog
beutyful
One word – Beautiful ! 🙂
Couldn’t stop reading. Thank you.
Nice writing thanks
When I read each passage, I feel like it’s me.
Beautifully written
Thank you so much to all of you again for all the lovely comments – still very touched that so many of you can relate to this very personal piece.
Amazing ☺️🙂
At the end of the day.. Our goal is still to come home.. With peace and to love.. after everything.. I enjoyed reading it.. 🙂
Reblogged this on Johanabianca.
Really like this
Love it!!! 34 going through similar things. That first quote really hit me home. Will share this in a very future post on my new blog. Thanks for sharing.
Absolutely amazing!!!!
I’m new here and it would be great for people to get to know me more? I’d be so grateful if it’s possible, thanks for your time 🙂 !
Is there a chance you could give me a shoutout?
This is beautiful and really powerful. I was deeply intrigued. Thank you for sharing this. I was touched.
I love this…
Reblogged this on The Life of Decci.
Beautiful!
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | Life in arrghland
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing.
Love this. Thanks for sharing yourself with the world.
Reblogged this on ofakaupdates and commented:
ofakaupdates.wordpress.com
Loved it 🙂 check mine blog too
I like how this post goes through stages in your life. It helps people to reminisce about things and it is a childhood and adult reminder
Like the changes in age
thank you for this, i needed it
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | Write From The Heart
Reblogged this on slippingon.
I agree Is Awersome And the funny thing No matter How old You are You Can give or Take Love
IT’s You choise And I se the Beuty
In Love And I have experience in both way You Can find Your truly Love inside youself And You Can
Love You Children Or You are blessed IF You Founf the right
The dream of You Life Thank for share You toughts with others
You are a great writer. I am a stickler for proper punctuation. Your blog is the first I’ve ever read. Forget Facebook! This is real reading material. I think I’ve found a new favourite!
Beautiful piece! Keep ’em coming!
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | lautdanmentari
Wow!
Reblogged this on pointersofsuperliving.
Thanks for sharing this! It is an incredible piece!
very creative and inspiring. went through similar experience with the death of my mom when I was 29. It’s never something you feel ready to face no matter how old, how wise or how experienced you are. But it made us grow. Thank you for the article.
Emily – so sorry to hear about the death of your mum – i can’t imagine how painful that must have been. You’re right that you’re never ready – it’s something you realise all the time when you have an aging parent, as I do now. All best and take care.
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | Chi's Cake SiSu
this is insanely gorgeous!
Unusually striking narrative! Beautiful.
This is lovely!
Wow! This is an amazing piece. I really loved it. I was just skimming through blogs and found myself so completely and utterly absorbed in this. Beautiful concept, beautiful writing. I hope to read more of your work x
Wonderfully inspiring as I read this early in the morning. Thank you for this post. It has given me a refreshed perspective. I look forward to reading more of your writing.
Lovely writing, made me think
Thank you so much everyone – your comments are much appreciated. Wishing all of you a warm and wonderful 2016 with some good madness and fine books, as Neil Gaiman would say, and plenty of great writing 🙂 x
This is a wonderful article 🙂 a joy to read and it resonates with journeys of my own life xx
Love this and love the idea of wabi-sabi. Brings me peace (especially for a Monday)
I have been going through so much anxiety lately. This is just what I needed.
Beautiful stuff really. I read “You’re 39” almost 3 times.
Thank you – and so sorry to hear about your anxiety – I hope you’re feeling better.
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life)Go to the source link, I implore you. | jeanetto
Reblogged this on jeanetto and commented:
Read this, I implore you.
Reblogged this on Toko Langgeng.
This is really beautiful. Thanks!!
Brilliant my dear
Reblogged this on Lirik lagu suka sama kamu.
Reblogged this on Dianors.
I found this so helpful to read, I done a post on anxiety a while back so I can know how it can be scary to put something like this online for people to see! Well done!
Thank you!
…sometimes I was shivering)
Love the way you help us understand the experience of growing up. This is cleverly written.
Reblogged this on Migno Site Official Blog.
Many condolence. You write it very truthfully.
The midas touch- realmofachievers.wordpress.com
Amazing.
Reblogged this on might as well live.
I love it👌👌👌
This is lovely.
Well written!
Love the post! Thank you for sharing your experience.
Great piece…love how you take us back and forth between times.
Reblogged this on ATTITUDE*Writerz* and commented:
I though “Sabi” is only Nigerian pidgin English 🙂
Beautiful little essay. I connect with the concept of wabi sabi, and try to adopt in into my own meaning of life. Well done
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | Anna Myers
this is completely unlike anything i have ever read before and i love the voice it gives you. by saying “you” when you’re really talking about yourself allows your readers to feel a connection, i think you are very talented and have a captivating and beautiful voice. it would mean a lot for some one with so much talent to look at my blog! thank you
Love the way you help us understand the experience of growing up.
its a truth of life cycle..
Reblogged this on Musing /Snapshot /Inner Voice of a "Journalist".
Wonderful… Love the way.. u structure/mention it.
❤ lovely!
This is such a beautiful piece – not going to lie, I actually had goosebumps when I had finished reading this. I hope everything goes well for you.
While I’m here I might just as well mention that I’ve actually just started a food blog, just writing wee things about dining out in places in Glasgow. Things have been tough for me over the last few years but food is something that has always brought me comfort (not necessarily a good thing hahaha). Would love it if you were interested and wanted to have a look or give me a follow, it would mean a lot.
Very nice.
Reblogged this on A Wound Unmended.
This is very poetic and meaningful. I wish so very much my blog was like this.
Thank you – I’m sure I have at least 30 years on you though so I’ve had plenty of practice : ) Well done on starting your blog – you’ve got your own lovely distinctive voice, which will get better and better as you keep going. All the very best.
thanks so much. wish you ther very best, and hope you keep writing your amazing posts 🙂
Written montage…. Beautiful….
What an incredible blog. So very well written.
Thank you Kerry!
Very good read…so many parts resonated with my 38 year old self. Thank you!
Reblogged this on holarblogspot.
such a great blog !!
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | Life
Such an amazing piece!
I am in recovery and found this piece so, so moving. I am in the process of re-discovering myself and my talents that fulfill me and have found this process soothes and calms the soul.
Thank you for reminding me we all have it in us.
You’re very welcome – good luck with your journey – you definitely do have it in you. x
Yes! Love, in fact, is never enough.
Beautifully written
You spoke right to my heart. The 28 one summoned tears in me i thought i had already spent. Brilliant poignant work
All I can say is:
Thank you.
This is by and large one of the most beautiful things I have ever read
Thank you – to you and to everyone else who’s responded – I’m touched that it’s touched you. x
Reblogged this on slnavytaekwondo and commented:
Think a minute
Thank you. Wabi-Sabi “hit” me after a brain hemorrhage. Particular words lodged themselves into my new brain: “The hoax (and arrogance) of normalcy and centrality” – I became the “Unlearning Specialist” at the School of No Media: http://SchoolOfNoMedia.com Cannot fall for much anymore….
Pingback: Shared from WordPress – hadassahstate
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | inwordssite
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | NoteBullet
Love the voice in this! I have a similar concept Ive been working on but from a completely diff perspective. Exciting to see this.
*Chills* What a beautiful chronicle of hopes and pain, strung together like beads. It’s a shame women esp learn to take care of themselves after 40.
🍇💜✖️
Reblogged this on oldfogiyogi.
Love this
Exquisite. (But you already know this. At least you should.) thank you.
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) | lindyzungu
Reblogged this on sam1685blog.
when something is this good
only a response of silence can suffice.
but then you cannot see my silence, so i write to let you know how stunned i am.
wow.
Reblogged this on missmovingin and commented:
been dumped
Your story remind me of my entire life. I was a person passion for perfection, I disliked the place we lived in the village where I used to have a lot of fun , I ashamed by my one year older brother who always been bullied but always stand out for me, I hated my parents can not give me a better life, then all of a sudden, God seems to hear my cursed, house collapsed, brother died, parent owed a lot of debt. I still think it was a dream, as long as I can find a way to wake up.
So sorry to hear this – I hope things get better for you. Take care.
Thanks. Yep, now I study in Wales ,have all the things I wanted before but never happy again.
Wow. This blog post was so powerful and beautiful. You had me hooked throughout. I love your tone.
Cool ! really like this..
This is the longing in my heart that one day, I’ll come home too. Beautiful writing! Thank you for sharing.I lost my first love 23 years ago, been through a divorce and few relationships after.
Awesome account! I don’t know why it seems we women seem to always learn this lessons so much later in life. I can definitely relate to this and thank God i’ve finally cut myself a little slack. Life and living IT is a journey…
beautiful..
This is good, a nice discovery. You and I venture down some of the same alleyways in our writing (including wabi sabi, oddly) so perhaps we will someday turn a corner and collide.
You are an amazing writer. I rarely read anyone else’s blog and can’t even stand my own, but your wabi sabi story drew me right in. I think I experienced every emotion possible in the short time it took to read it. Thank you!
You write from truth and truth as emotionally gut wrenching as it is is the best way to write. This piece is beautiful and I so identify with you beautiful person. Amazing
Reblogged this on farahtariq's Blog.
Beautiful. Your words touched me. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing this!
Welcome home ! a quality piece of writing .
You are 27 when your alcoholic depressed father kills himself. You are a catholic family so the preast refuses to bury him. You start to wonder how far you can travel to get away from it all. It turns out, far far away is not far enough.
I wish I can write as good as this. Very nice.
Very well written and riveting! I, too, love the way you structured this and the second person voice. Even though I live halfway across the world and am a West Texas gal, I could identify with so much that you shared. Thanks for sharing your story with such honest vulnerability!
great collection dear.
Reblogged this on vibezoneblog.
So beautiful!!
This is one of the best things I’ve ever read in my life.
I agree!
Beautifully written! I hope to one day write as well as you.
I hope you don’t mind me quoting you in my (wallow) blog (not sure when I will write it yet, but I intend to). I will give you full credit.
This is so very beautiful. I love it so much. You capture the truth that we all live and learn beyond time.
Pingback: The art of Wabi-Sabi (or things you will learn later in your life) | THE NINTH THEORY
OMG I love this piece. It’s gut wrenching, honest, an incredible feat of writing 🙂
Cried. 28 & right there with you. Present, past, & future..
Thank you for this. I am 45 this year and I too have started to think about family who have gone ahead and where my place on earth is. An alignment of priorities and the reason for being.
Thank you so much to all of you for the continued comments – every one of them is very touching – my heart goes out to those of you with similar experiences. All best and take care. x
Love it!
Very touching piece
Loved it. Truly.
In my head, I am giving you a standing ovation.
Wow! Just Wow!
lovingly
Beautiful writing. Was teary at the end.
Such a touching and deep sharing!Preety much amazed with your story!please do not ever stop writing pleaseee!I am a lot inspired from your passion of writing .Lots of love from istanbul:)))
Fabulous! You have an excellent flair for taking your readers on an engaging, reflective journey. I look forward to returning here again. Love how you’ve so neatly captured what it means to be human through your reflections.
This is beautiful. I also loved the structure and the way it unfolded. Well done. And thank you 🙂
What a lovely post. Every woman could relate. I started coming home at age 41. And yes, part of it are yoga, meditation and writing. Thank you for sharing with us your life experiences.
True say.. =*
beautiful and beautifully written!
Moving stuff, it almost felt too personal to read.
Reblogged this on noorceline.
I love this writing..
Reblogged this on abramov3460.
Reblogged this on lone17verse and commented:
Nice piece
Reblogged this on hossain131.
I enjoyed that!
Reblogged this on The Misfit Artist's blog and commented:
A really amazing post with deep thoughts
thanks for sharing such a touching extract! great message!
I AM COMING HOME TO MYSELF.
It’s an amazing piece of writing and it has a lot to introspect upon
Reblogged this on foxnime.
What a beautifully written piece of work! Thank you for sharing your painful memories and the slow home coming into yourself. (I only started “coming home” late in life and in spite of that, or maybe because of it, it is still a joyous experience.)
I think ‘coming home’ is often something that happens later in life, but whenever it happens, it’s a good thing. Very glad to hear of your experience – all the best for the future.
Congratulations! What a beautifully written piece of work you are sharing with us. This is one the best posts I have read. ❤
So beautiful and heart wrenching and tremendous. I loved this.
Reblogged this on PETRICHOR..
Finally the secrets has been revealed. Keep itup
This gives me hope. And believe me it’s a lot. ♥
Heart felt. Left me feeling all warm and gooey inside
Reblogged this on smaugiesmaugie and commented:
Why all sad posts decide to show up on my timeline now?
Pingback: The Art of Wabi-Sabi (or Things You Will Learn Later in your Life) — Black coffee and cigarettes | Hana
Reblogged this on .
Brilliantly written narrative, heartfelt tale. I loved it.
I touched my heart, enlightened my soul. Thank you for writing such a sorrowful yet hopeful article. 🙂
May God bless you. ❤
Thank you so much, Jasmine.
My pleasure. 🙂
WOW! That’s all I can say. I truly loved this. You are so talented and inspiring.
Thank you : )
Super post. I hope it will be helpful for other
Thank you very much for that powerful piece of writing. How insightful, direct, and strong! It gives hope for a future at peace with oneself. Thank you for this.
You’re very welcome – thank you for the kind words.
Beautiful!
That’s a wonderful piece. Sometimes when things are falling out of place, they are usually falling in place. We are not home until our hearts decides to cherish the moments.
Reblogged this on Information retrival and commented:
Its memji and saabji and in future Gobi mutter style
💕🙏🏼💕
Reblogged this on cofirm10 and commented:
great piece
What a wornderful piece. Beautiful
Thank you.
It’s my pleasure
Reblogged this on hanniah14.
Reblogged this on Jung Hussain Khan's Blog and commented:
I am only 12 th year old when I first fall in love with me classmate .But till today I could not forgot her .According to Myself TRUE LOVE was/is/will only one: i.e., trustable.
Reblogged this on senanuvirus.
Reblogged this on Kiss and Hide.
Reblogged this on TIISETSO K. MONTSHOSI.
Reblogged this on judamicheal.
Reblogged this on fazeay.wordpress.com.
Reblogged this on moinhameed.
thank you sunitarappai
Fantastic blog
good luck to you
Thank you so much – and to you.
Thank you for peace making
Thank you for this beautiful, honest entrance into your soul. I am blown away. Better than any novel I’ve read in a long time.
Very late – my apologies – but thank you so much.
Very well done!