Sublime
An inspiration engine for ideas
Journalist Krista Tippett describes an embodied form of grace—the surprising grace of aging. As our minds and bodies slow down, we make space for simple contentment:
To inhabit my body in all its grace and its flaws appears as a gift for the new/mundane bodily territory I’m on in midlife. Aging is the ultimate slow motion loss,... See more
Bien que j’aie maintenant 88 ans, j’ai encore beaucoup à apprendre sur la vie et, pour commencer, apprendre à vivre seul comme un adulte indépendant. J’ai fait beaucoup de choses dans ma vie : je suis devenu médecin, je me suis occupé d’une foule de patients, j’ai enseigné, j’ai écrit, j’ai conçu et élevé quatre enfants aimants, généreux et
... See moreIrwin D. Yalom • Une question de mort et de vie (French Edition)
🃏 Card 6: “The Diagnosis”
Keywords: Fragility, mortality, decline
Fool Aspect: The Fool meets the body
Summary: Didion’s own illness becomes a parallel narrative. The Fool, once buoyed by strength, now staggers. This is the moment the dreamer recognizes her vessel is finite.
Pull quote: “What if I can’t even put together the pieces of who I was?”
Without answers, at my most desperate, I came to feel (in some unarticulated way) that if I could just tell the right story about what was happening, I could make myself better. If only I could figure out what the story was, like the child in a fantasy novel who must discover her secret name, I could become myself again.
Meghan O'Rourke • The Invisible Kingdom: Reimagining Chronic Illness
My mother, the doctor thought, was waiting for my arrival and might not last the night. “Dying of what?” I asked him. “Nothing, everything.”
John Tarrant • Bring Me the Rhinoceros: And Other Zen Koans That Will Save Your Life
Dealing gracefully with a chronic illness takes an ocean of strength. I hope that somewhere inside of me, I have a bit of that same
Caroline Van Hemert • The Sun Is a Compass: A 4,000-Mile Journey into the Alaskan Wilds
Loin du Paul brillant et solide dont j’étais follement tombée amoureuse, la version de mon mari qui me manque le plus reste celle qu’il endossa la dernière année de sa vie, celle de cet écrivain fragile mais jamais faible.