A few months ago, the pastor at church had mentioned a book he read while on sabbatical called Bittersweet - How Sorry and Longing Make Us Whole by Susan Cain. His sabbatical focused on grief and loss, so I was curious to check this book out of the library and see what it was about.
Although there were some parts that resonated with me, the majority of the book seemed like it was meant for someone else. I did find the section about how creativity can be associated with sorrow and longing particularly interesting.
At any rate, here are the parts that were most interesting to me:
- Humans are wired to respond to each other's troubles with care. This instinct is as much a part of us as the desire to eat and breathe.
- Sad moods tend to sharpen our attention: They make us more focused and detail-oriented; they improve our memories, and correct our cognitive biases.
- What if we took whatever pain we couldn't get rid of, and turned it into something else? We could write, act, study, cook, dance, compose, do improv, dream up a new business, and decorate our kitchens; there are hundreds of things we could do, and whether we do them "well," or with distinction, is beside the point. This is why "arts therapy" - in which people express and process their troubles by making art - can be so effective, even if its practitioners don't exhibit their work on gallery walls.
- Whatever pain you can't get rid of, make it your creative offering - or find someone who makes it for you.
- Min Kym, a famous violinist, had her violin stolen. "The moment my violin was stolen, something died in me....I have to accept that the person I was with the violin gone. But I've been reborn....There's space now for a new me to emerge....When you do recover from any loss - when you heal, when your soul starts to heal from the shock - a new part grows."
- In our house, getting into a good college was the holy grail. My mother dreaded my departure, but even more she desired my success.
- May I be free from danger, May I be free from mental suffering, May I be free from physical suffering, May I have ease of well-being.
- May I be safe, May I be happy, May I be healthy, May I live with ease.
- A mother who developed Alzheimer's kept saying to her daughter, "I just want you to know what a good daughter you've been. I just want you to know." She would say this every single time the daughter called and visited. I won't be able to tell you much longer, so please remember how much I love you. A good daughter, a good daughter, you've been such a good daughter."
1 comment:
Sounds like a book that might feel a bit off for me. Not that I might disagree, but that it doesn't ring clearly maybe. ?
Post a Comment