Rick, that, right there, captures why your kids and wife are damn lucky to have you. Your ability to see the big picture, even during the shattering meltdown in the midst of so much going on (the start of a life, the loss of life, the economic meltdown, the recent move...), is remarkable.
You may not understand who The Buddha is, yet it's *your* Buddha nature, imperfect though it may be, that turned a violent outburst into a cathartic teaching and learning moment, one that I'm guessing still resonates with everyone involved.
And the way you relate all of this is simply beautiful.
Sharing the personal stuff can get tricky. I'm grateful to both my son and daughter for being open to me sharing this publicly. I asked them both of course before publishing it.
Life is trouble, said Zorba the Greek. And so the anwer was to let Life have its way with us and... dance. These posts depict lots of dancing, even if tears are rolling down the face. As they were with me as i read this. Thank you.
The heartbreak and hope of your family are so well-captured here. This is beautiful.
That must’ve been an incredibly cathartic night that you swept up after. How fortunate for your kiddos you had presence of mind to let the breakage of heartache’s grip ease forward. Through it all, Buddha stays intact and rests with it.
I didn't wind up writing about it, but the clean-up process was so important as a way of grounding. I remember moving so very slowly through the process, my hands shaking for a good while, integrating the whole experience.
I can imagine how delicate, profound and pivotal that process was. Super hard, super meaningful. Your kiddos are fortunate imo that you had presence of mind not to blow right through it.
Acknowledging one’s old foundation is gone and change is required is jarring, especially if trauma prompts the change. Super hard. This is a profound story. Patience is a virtue for a reason.
Good morning, Rick. I woke up feeling well this morning, and the small thought passed through my mind, "I haven't had a good cry lately..." Finishing my cup of tea in the dark quiet, I saw the picture of your Buddha and read this, sliding easily into a good cry beginning with the soft curiosity of the security people, just wanting to see and handle this work of art, all the way through the gently delivered thumps of your intimate story to the moments of settling, easing, clearing and holding, revealing the enduring love and presence that surrounds us all. Thank you.
Oh, so glad I could assist with inviting your tenderness to the surface. It certainly did for me. I cried on and off for two days while working on the piece, recalling the emotion of these various life challenges and moments.
Shew, what an honest and beautiful story. Loved seeing the image of the Buddha, it really added to the emotion of picturing him overseeing all the highs and lows of family life going on around him.
I debated about showing an actual image of him, but decided to include it. I'm curious what each reader might have imagined in their own mind had I not included the picture. Would it have been more or less evocative I wonder?
Thank you Melissa. Fortunately it's a big backpack, but it did stretch the whole thing to its seams to fit it in there. I can still remember the weight of it on my shoulders.
"It's ok. You're ok. I've got you."
Rick, that, right there, captures why your kids and wife are damn lucky to have you. Your ability to see the big picture, even during the shattering meltdown in the midst of so much going on (the start of a life, the loss of life, the economic meltdown, the recent move...), is remarkable.
You may not understand who The Buddha is, yet it's *your* Buddha nature, imperfect though it may be, that turned a violent outburst into a cathartic teaching and learning moment, one that I'm guessing still resonates with everyone involved.
And the way you relate all of this is simply beautiful.
A very kind reflection Larry. It is indeed a memorable, poignant and tender memory for the kids and me.
Wow, Rick! Truly moving . . . no words, really, other than to say, thank you for sharing such a powerfully personal story.
Sharing the personal stuff can get tricky. I'm grateful to both my son and daughter for being open to me sharing this publicly. I asked them both of course before publishing it.
Life is trouble, said Zorba the Greek. And so the anwer was to let Life have its way with us and... dance. These posts depict lots of dancing, even if tears are rolling down the face. As they were with me as i read this. Thank you.
That means a lot to me PJ that it touched a tender place. Thank you for sharing that.
Beautiful story, many moving parts, many broken parts, many peaceful parts observing it all.
Thank you Genie. Coming apart and coming together. That kind of summarizes the whole human journey doesn't it?
Yes, I am a master at coming apart.
That's the goal, isn't it? Surrendering to the unraveling so Providence can piece it all back together the way it belongs?
The heartbreak and hope of your family are so well-captured here. This is beautiful.
That must’ve been an incredibly cathartic night that you swept up after. How fortunate for your kiddos you had presence of mind to let the breakage of heartache’s grip ease forward. Through it all, Buddha stays intact and rests with it.
Genuinely beautiful story.
I didn't wind up writing about it, but the clean-up process was so important as a way of grounding. I remember moving so very slowly through the process, my hands shaking for a good while, integrating the whole experience.
I can imagine how delicate, profound and pivotal that process was. Super hard, super meaningful. Your kiddos are fortunate imo that you had presence of mind not to blow right through it.
Acknowledging one’s old foundation is gone and change is required is jarring, especially if trauma prompts the change. Super hard. This is a profound story. Patience is a virtue for a reason.
Good morning, Rick. I woke up feeling well this morning, and the small thought passed through my mind, "I haven't had a good cry lately..." Finishing my cup of tea in the dark quiet, I saw the picture of your Buddha and read this, sliding easily into a good cry beginning with the soft curiosity of the security people, just wanting to see and handle this work of art, all the way through the gently delivered thumps of your intimate story to the moments of settling, easing, clearing and holding, revealing the enduring love and presence that surrounds us all. Thank you.
Oh, so glad I could assist with inviting your tenderness to the surface. It certainly did for me. I cried on and off for two days while working on the piece, recalling the emotion of these various life challenges and moments.
Shew, what an honest and beautiful story. Loved seeing the image of the Buddha, it really added to the emotion of picturing him overseeing all the highs and lows of family life going on around him.
I debated about showing an actual image of him, but decided to include it. I'm curious what each reader might have imagined in their own mind had I not included the picture. Would it have been more or less evocative I wonder?
Your way of holding your family together as delicately as you hold our hearts as you allow us into deeply private moments is impeccable.
You stand steady for so many people in our substack and writing journeys, Rick.
What a lovely and beautiful comment and acknowledgement Karena. Thank you very much.
Its from the heart
This was so lovely to read Rick. I cannot believe he fit in a carry-on. Nestled among the towels, he must have been quite a sight!
Thank you Melissa. Fortunately it's a big backpack, but it did stretch the whole thing to its seams to fit it in there. I can still remember the weight of it on my shoulders.
Powerful words. A powerful moment. Your story is an inspiration.
Thank you very much Liam.
<3 <3 <3
: )
…strong moments rick…like the buddha so too the story…