I had the privilege to live the most wonderful love story with a beautiful man named Richard. We were basically children when we met (18 years old), and somehow, I knew he was “the one.” When I got home, even my mother recognized that something was different and new. That a connection had been made. It was the same with her and my dad. With my grandmother and my grandfather. We dated. I went to college. We dated other people. But we always laughed, had much to say to each other, went on adventures, and started to grow up together. We were still basically children when we got married (22 years old). I have three very best days of my life, and my wedding day has always been number one. Our marriage wasn’t all butterflies and bells, but we were always best friends, even during those times we weren’t really lovers. We did everything together, and Richards wonderful, gregarious nature was my shield and confidence in those social situations I would normally preferred to have avoided. As long as he was there with me, I was fine. Richard never met a stranger. Then, one day, 13+ years ago, he dropped dead. Too young. Too soon. I didn’t just lose a husband, I lost my very best friend who had been by my side for 30 years from the time we met. I know no other relationship will come close to what we had.
I took many notes from this post...notes for my own writing work, on the obsessions that linger and spark stories. Normal People by Sally Rooney is a recent example of a love story with hands I could not pry myself out of (the Hulu series was incredible, also).
Another line that came to me, after reading the C.S. Lewis quote, was something my dad read aloud to me in the cab of his tiny pickup truck on a weekend when we visited him, for our custody agreement. He had transcribed this and given it to me as a card with a gift (which I don't remember, but it was probably a book): 'Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.'
"Our favorite love stories, then, are about the moments when you glimpse your Eden; they’re about the transience of these sightings, and why they mean more than anything else that might ever happen to you. And so we must treasure these moments; they are the pathway back to your own heart." I LOVE THIS!
Susan, I interviewed for Metro and Psychologies a while back, and I have to tell you that Bittersweet helped me through a painful breakup and also helped me find the pathway back to my own heart.
Thank you. I love your work.
The purest love I have ever felt is for my own son, a giant 20-year-old now who just passed his driving test this holiday. My pride, my joy, my terror, and my grief as he drives away to his final term at university and builds a life for himself feel overwhelming at times.
I know his every eyelash, but when this giant who says he's my child puts the car into gear and revs the engine ready to take off, I wonder—who is this man?
I long for my son even though he is right in front of me. I long for the cheeky chap strapped into the car seat, but I celebrate as this big human finds his way to drive and thrive.
Yes at moments my struggle with longing and the fear of nothingness is quieted and answered by pure love and beauty... like incredible moments of music, unexplainable giggling over the phone, or learning something that starts to shake a problem loose. And then they go away again and I'm not sure what to do except have faith that another moment will come.
My experience of pure love is found in the split second between uncontrollable belly-laughing with old friends and our collective breath in before a contented sigh and united smiles.
Goosebumps flutter over me when standing under dark starry skies wondering about everyone and everything out there that is, that was and that will be.
I too, find moments of pure love in my work as a therapist. But...the first thing that popped into my mind when I read your question about goosebumps was sitting quietly on a mountain at the start of COVID during lock down. We had driven to Palomar Mountain and my family was off running the dog around. I was sitting still, alone, and a large crow flew over me. I could hear the wind in its feathers, something I had never experienced before. It truly took my breath away. I don’t even think I shared my experience. I think I kept it to myself.
Isn't it delicious to have an experience like that? And to not need to share it with anyone. I'm finding more of them where i simply adore them and let them stay with me alone. Contentment?
This week I read some of my old journal entries from last year and I wrote about how I love my boyfriend but there are still small things I dislike, and I was worried if this will change or what the future will hold.
Now I can say I overthought it way too much, and some things just need time to sort themselves out.
And I'm more happy than ever with my life and him.
I'm not giving up so easily anymore and I'm working on judging and making him change less.
Thanks for your newsletter! Love to read it every week!
I have felt the tug of longing all my life--something out there I felt I needed and couldn't find. I deeply connect with the writing of C.S. Lewis, and the beautiful way that he draws me into myself, encouraging me to experience the quiet moments and the beautiful moments, to embrace my spirituality in my own way, having a personal relationship with God. My Catholic upbringing was hard on me--I feared the priests, the nuns, the Church, and even God. I think what I most longed for was to be close to God, to embrace my spirituality without fear, but with love and with gratitude. It completely changed how I see the world, and now I feel more like my true self and am better able to see and appreciate the beauty around me.
As for the moment I felt complete and pure love? The moments my babies were placed in my arms after birth, including my first, who was stillborn. That was the deepest, most painful love I've ever felt. The pain of that loss was immense, and I know it was the longing for all that I would never experience with her, a longing to know her, but never would beyond what I knew of her for nearly 9 months.
Reading this, I could viscerally feel my own infinite Love for my beautiful living son and for his miscarried little sister--as well as the still-deep longing for her to know and be known by us both.
What a brutifully poignant example of pure love, Nancy. Thank you so very much for sharing.
My other deep longing has been for others to know my daughter existed and that she is a part of me. She is the first child who gave me the gift of becoming a mother. That pregnancy was the most blissful time of my life, and the three others that followed were filled with anxiety. Her name is Kali.
I am awestruck when visiting Muir Woods (or the giant sequoias in Yosemite). When the sunlight filters through the branches of those huge trees, I feel as if I am in God's house. Noisy visitors tend to annoy me because they spoil the peaceful, sacred feeling. Certain pieces of music can bring me deep joy as can playing with/reading to our grandsons. And oh... the laughter of a baby! Best thing ever!
The place where those goosebumps moments happen most frequently for me is actually my therapy room. The moments of raw, intimate connection and witnessing glimpses of transformation unfolding move me to tears on a regular basis. I am deeply privileged to be able to call this work. It's the closest I come to the divine in my life (not every moment of every day of course, but often enough to feed and sustain me)
I’ve read that depression is grieving for a life unlived and perhaps longing is a synonym of sorts to this experience.
I’m lifted on mountain trails and swimming in ponds, but on the ice in the middle of a lake on a sunny day in winter. Something like God comes to me. I am lifted.
The film, “Past Lives” by Celine Song perfectly illustrates that longing you spoke of in this piece. I was so moved to tears that the feeling lingered on for a few more days. It’s a beautiful, quiet, deeply moving film that I think you would like: https://youtu.be/kA244xewjcI?feature=shared
Thank you Stella! This is my favorite movie this year and has so much. The writing is brilliant and contains so much rich, nonverbal, quiet communication. So quietly moving and, as you say, so perfectly illustrates that "longing". I bought it and watched it for the 3rd time on Xmas. It continues to move me to tears and continues to provoke deeper thoughts of wonder. I was thrilled to see your comment Stella.
I’m so glad to hear that! Even watching the trailer already makes me teary-eyed. It’s definitely a must-see film. I’m also ecstatic for Celine that her debut film is getting the recognition it truly deserves. Hopefully, her film picks up an Oscar-nod or two. 🤞
I also am ecstatic for Celine. I don't think I've ever seen a movie with more depth. She so deserves more than 1 Oscar. I hope she wins for best foreign film too. I related to this story in such a profound way as I lived a very similar life experience starting at 14 with a first love. We also were meant to part paths after several fleeting moments of reconnection in 3 different decades because as adults, we needed to learn different lessons in this lifetime. Our connection is from another realm where God exists. I think we could have only gotten a glimpse of that perfect love because we were so very young and pure as children and so hadn't yet totally left that prior place of perfect love with God. We were blessed to have had this unique experience in this earthy life. At 77, I am finally closer to God than ever because all of the sorrow, pain and disappointment in this earthly life has led me back to my heart where love and God reside. I feel God particularly when I walk on dirt paths among trees, listen to beautiful music, read spiritually inclined writings and do Tai Chi with other kindred spirits. In doing these things, I feel so much joy and transcendence. In my 20's I felt similarly in participating in 1 other community activity, as we joined hands in a circle dancing in an Israeli folk dance group. It was a little bit of heaven on earth. Dance has been my passion my entire life. From 5-25, it was ballet and jazz. Now being older, it's Tai Chi which is incredibly spiritual and reminds me of a slow moving ballet but one in which I sense invisible energy that moves throughout the whole class binding us together into 1 dance of life. Movement always has taken me to another perfect world. I am so grateful as it leads me to such awe and joy....and yes, referring to Susan's beautiful latest thread, my main pathway back to my heart. Thank you so much.
Absolutely! I hope Celine and her film family bag a few Oscars (Golden Globes too!) Thank you for sharing your story. For me, it’s visual arts- photography and collaging- realms where I can explore my imagination, longings, and a spiritual resonance with God.
Oh, how wonderful that for you it's through photography and collaging. Isn't it interesting that it's through ALL forms of art that we can feel those longings for transcendence and a "spiritual resonance with God" as you beautifully said. I know I feel this through other activities as well. Being in nature, being with animals and looking at beautiful paintings also provide me with those momentary "glimpses of Eden" as Susan C. lovingly described.
When I was 20, I was hopelessly in love with a girl at a company I used to. Because I was so shy back then, I never had the courage to confess my feelings for her. Still, I was happy about every minute I could spend with her, every chance I got to talk to her, every chance I had to be with her.
During that time, just out of pure coincidence, when listening to a local radio station, I heard the song "The Day After Tomorrow" from the Danish band Saybia.
I was immediately thunderstruck by the text of the song. It describes how a person is deeply and secretly in love with another person. Not being able to confess that love, the person postpones to confess "the day after tomorrow" and keeps longing for the loved person, which is so close but so far away at the same time.
The song gave me goosebumps and immersing into it, I felt so understood, so close to my inner world and feelings that I was close to tears.
Now, twenty years later, I still love listening to that song. It still evokes so many of the emotions and feelings I had back then. It reminds me of how deep I am able to feel and how sensitive and open I am to the joys and pains of life.
In the end, I am glad that it did not work out with the girl back then. In hindsight we were not really compatible and the she would probably never have felt the same for me as I did for her. But that's OK. What always remains is the beautiful, bittersweet song I got to know back then and the memories embedded into it 😊.
Sossoo!
Why when I read the post or article twice or more I enjoy it also understand it much more.
I enjoyed it really I love it. Despite it is long but it is beautiful.
I had the privilege to live the most wonderful love story with a beautiful man named Richard. We were basically children when we met (18 years old), and somehow, I knew he was “the one.” When I got home, even my mother recognized that something was different and new. That a connection had been made. It was the same with her and my dad. With my grandmother and my grandfather. We dated. I went to college. We dated other people. But we always laughed, had much to say to each other, went on adventures, and started to grow up together. We were still basically children when we got married (22 years old). I have three very best days of my life, and my wedding day has always been number one. Our marriage wasn’t all butterflies and bells, but we were always best friends, even during those times we weren’t really lovers. We did everything together, and Richards wonderful, gregarious nature was my shield and confidence in those social situations I would normally preferred to have avoided. As long as he was there with me, I was fine. Richard never met a stranger. Then, one day, 13+ years ago, he dropped dead. Too young. Too soon. I didn’t just lose a husband, I lost my very best friend who had been by my side for 30 years from the time we met. I know no other relationship will come close to what we had.
That sound bitter sweet. So much pain of loss but amazing love and memories of 30 years. Thanks for sharing.
Goosebumps. I'm so sorry for your loss, so happy for you that you had such a love.
I took many notes from this post...notes for my own writing work, on the obsessions that linger and spark stories. Normal People by Sally Rooney is a recent example of a love story with hands I could not pry myself out of (the Hulu series was incredible, also).
Another line that came to me, after reading the C.S. Lewis quote, was something my dad read aloud to me in the cab of his tiny pickup truck on a weekend when we visited him, for our custody agreement. He had transcribed this and given it to me as a card with a gift (which I don't remember, but it was probably a book): 'Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.'
Thank you so much.
Khalil Gibran! I am constantly sharing that poem, with everyone who will listen. :)
Thank you, Dorothy.
This excerpt on Children by Kahlil Gibran is one of my favorites. This is a nice reminder to revisit The Prophet. Thanks for sharing, Dorothy. :)
oh - you too, I see. :)
Thank you for this , it was so beautiful❤️
"Our favorite love stories, then, are about the moments when you glimpse your Eden; they’re about the transience of these sightings, and why they mean more than anything else that might ever happen to you. And so we must treasure these moments; they are the pathway back to your own heart." I LOVE THIS!
Susan, I interviewed for Metro and Psychologies a while back, and I have to tell you that Bittersweet helped me through a painful breakup and also helped me find the pathway back to my own heart.
Thank you. I love your work.
The purest love I have ever felt is for my own son, a giant 20-year-old now who just passed his driving test this holiday. My pride, my joy, my terror, and my grief as he drives away to his final term at university and builds a life for himself feel overwhelming at times.
I know his every eyelash, but when this giant who says he's my child puts the car into gear and revs the engine ready to take off, I wonder—who is this man?
I long for my son even though he is right in front of me. I long for the cheeky chap strapped into the car seat, but I celebrate as this big human finds his way to drive and thrive.
Yes at moments my struggle with longing and the fear of nothingness is quieted and answered by pure love and beauty... like incredible moments of music, unexplainable giggling over the phone, or learning something that starts to shake a problem loose. And then they go away again and I'm not sure what to do except have faith that another moment will come.
My experience of pure love is found in the split second between uncontrollable belly-laughing with old friends and our collective breath in before a contented sigh and united smiles.
Goosebumps flutter over me when standing under dark starry skies wondering about everyone and everything out there that is, that was and that will be.
I too, find moments of pure love in my work as a therapist. But...the first thing that popped into my mind when I read your question about goosebumps was sitting quietly on a mountain at the start of COVID during lock down. We had driven to Palomar Mountain and my family was off running the dog around. I was sitting still, alone, and a large crow flew over me. I could hear the wind in its feathers, something I had never experienced before. It truly took my breath away. I don’t even think I shared my experience. I think I kept it to myself.
Isn't it delicious to have an experience like that? And to not need to share it with anyone. I'm finding more of them where i simply adore them and let them stay with me alone. Contentment?
This week I read some of my old journal entries from last year and I wrote about how I love my boyfriend but there are still small things I dislike, and I was worried if this will change or what the future will hold.
Now I can say I overthought it way too much, and some things just need time to sort themselves out.
And I'm more happy than ever with my life and him.
I'm not giving up so easily anymore and I'm working on judging and making him change less.
Thanks for your newsletter! Love to read it every week!
Love this, Karina!
(Plus, Karina is one of my all-time favorite names.)
I have felt the tug of longing all my life--something out there I felt I needed and couldn't find. I deeply connect with the writing of C.S. Lewis, and the beautiful way that he draws me into myself, encouraging me to experience the quiet moments and the beautiful moments, to embrace my spirituality in my own way, having a personal relationship with God. My Catholic upbringing was hard on me--I feared the priests, the nuns, the Church, and even God. I think what I most longed for was to be close to God, to embrace my spirituality without fear, but with love and with gratitude. It completely changed how I see the world, and now I feel more like my true self and am better able to see and appreciate the beauty around me.
As for the moment I felt complete and pure love? The moments my babies were placed in my arms after birth, including my first, who was stillborn. That was the deepest, most painful love I've ever felt. The pain of that loss was immense, and I know it was the longing for all that I would never experience with her, a longing to know her, but never would beyond what I knew of her for nearly 9 months.
Reading this, I could viscerally feel my own infinite Love for my beautiful living son and for his miscarried little sister--as well as the still-deep longing for her to know and be known by us both.
What a brutifully poignant example of pure love, Nancy. Thank you so very much for sharing.
Grace, I'm so sorry for your loss. It's always with us, they are always with us. Do you mind me asking, did you name your little angel?
thank you so much for sharing that, @Nancy Brown. All of it.
My other deep longing has been for others to know my daughter existed and that she is a part of me. She is the first child who gave me the gift of becoming a mother. That pregnancy was the most blissful time of my life, and the three others that followed were filled with anxiety. Her name is Kali.
what a beautiful name.
I am awestruck when visiting Muir Woods (or the giant sequoias in Yosemite). When the sunlight filters through the branches of those huge trees, I feel as if I am in God's house. Noisy visitors tend to annoy me because they spoil the peaceful, sacred feeling. Certain pieces of music can bring me deep joy as can playing with/reading to our grandsons. And oh... the laughter of a baby! Best thing ever!
The place where those goosebumps moments happen most frequently for me is actually my therapy room. The moments of raw, intimate connection and witnessing glimpses of transformation unfolding move me to tears on a regular basis. I am deeply privileged to be able to call this work. It's the closest I come to the divine in my life (not every moment of every day of course, but often enough to feed and sustain me)
Oh this makes perfect sense to me.
I’ve read that depression is grieving for a life unlived and perhaps longing is a synonym of sorts to this experience.
I’m lifted on mountain trails and swimming in ponds, but on the ice in the middle of a lake on a sunny day in winter. Something like God comes to me. I am lifted.
Also playing with young children.
I wish I knew. All I have known of love is horror.
I am so sorry.
And, it is never too late to find another manifestation of love. Really.
The film, “Past Lives” by Celine Song perfectly illustrates that longing you spoke of in this piece. I was so moved to tears that the feeling lingered on for a few more days. It’s a beautiful, quiet, deeply moving film that I think you would like: https://youtu.be/kA244xewjcI?feature=shared
Thank you Stella! This is my favorite movie this year and has so much. The writing is brilliant and contains so much rich, nonverbal, quiet communication. So quietly moving and, as you say, so perfectly illustrates that "longing". I bought it and watched it for the 3rd time on Xmas. It continues to move me to tears and continues to provoke deeper thoughts of wonder. I was thrilled to see your comment Stella.
I’m so glad to hear that! Even watching the trailer already makes me teary-eyed. It’s definitely a must-see film. I’m also ecstatic for Celine that her debut film is getting the recognition it truly deserves. Hopefully, her film picks up an Oscar-nod or two. 🤞
I also am ecstatic for Celine. I don't think I've ever seen a movie with more depth. She so deserves more than 1 Oscar. I hope she wins for best foreign film too. I related to this story in such a profound way as I lived a very similar life experience starting at 14 with a first love. We also were meant to part paths after several fleeting moments of reconnection in 3 different decades because as adults, we needed to learn different lessons in this lifetime. Our connection is from another realm where God exists. I think we could have only gotten a glimpse of that perfect love because we were so very young and pure as children and so hadn't yet totally left that prior place of perfect love with God. We were blessed to have had this unique experience in this earthy life. At 77, I am finally closer to God than ever because all of the sorrow, pain and disappointment in this earthly life has led me back to my heart where love and God reside. I feel God particularly when I walk on dirt paths among trees, listen to beautiful music, read spiritually inclined writings and do Tai Chi with other kindred spirits. In doing these things, I feel so much joy and transcendence. In my 20's I felt similarly in participating in 1 other community activity, as we joined hands in a circle dancing in an Israeli folk dance group. It was a little bit of heaven on earth. Dance has been my passion my entire life. From 5-25, it was ballet and jazz. Now being older, it's Tai Chi which is incredibly spiritual and reminds me of a slow moving ballet but one in which I sense invisible energy that moves throughout the whole class binding us together into 1 dance of life. Movement always has taken me to another perfect world. I am so grateful as it leads me to such awe and joy....and yes, referring to Susan's beautiful latest thread, my main pathway back to my heart. Thank you so much.
Absolutely! I hope Celine and her film family bag a few Oscars (Golden Globes too!) Thank you for sharing your story. For me, it’s visual arts- photography and collaging- realms where I can explore my imagination, longings, and a spiritual resonance with God.
Oh, how wonderful that for you it's through photography and collaging. Isn't it interesting that it's through ALL forms of art that we can feel those longings for transcendence and a "spiritual resonance with God" as you beautifully said. I know I feel this through other activities as well. Being in nature, being with animals and looking at beautiful paintings also provide me with those momentary "glimpses of Eden" as Susan C. lovingly described.
Wow @Stella Kalaw and @Lilla Russell, I love this conversation. And I guess I really have to watch that movie!
oh thank you for the tip! Adding to my watch list straightaway.
When I was 20, I was hopelessly in love with a girl at a company I used to. Because I was so shy back then, I never had the courage to confess my feelings for her. Still, I was happy about every minute I could spend with her, every chance I got to talk to her, every chance I had to be with her.
During that time, just out of pure coincidence, when listening to a local radio station, I heard the song "The Day After Tomorrow" from the Danish band Saybia.
I was immediately thunderstruck by the text of the song. It describes how a person is deeply and secretly in love with another person. Not being able to confess that love, the person postpones to confess "the day after tomorrow" and keeps longing for the loved person, which is so close but so far away at the same time.
The song gave me goosebumps and immersing into it, I felt so understood, so close to my inner world and feelings that I was close to tears.
Now, twenty years later, I still love listening to that song. It still evokes so many of the emotions and feelings I had back then. It reminds me of how deep I am able to feel and how sensitive and open I am to the joys and pains of life.
In the end, I am glad that it did not work out with the girl back then. In hindsight we were not really compatible and the she would probably never have felt the same for me as I did for her. But that's OK. What always remains is the beautiful, bittersweet song I got to know back then and the memories embedded into it 😊.
wow. thank you for sharing this incredible story. And the idea of "The Day After Tomorrow" is so good.
I know exactly that feeling, of music transporting you back in time, to a particular moment of heightened emotion.