1. Truth: I am my biggest obstacle. If I could just get out of my own way, there’d be more ease in my life. I don’t mean it would suddenly be easy, but rather that I wouldn’t struggle and suffer so much. If instead of resisting what is I could relax with it, things would shift, settle, soften — and I would too.

2. Truth: Sometimes I can’t help. I want to. I want to more than anything, to fix whatever is wrong, but sometimes I can’t. All I can do is be a witness. All I can do is love you. I can’t save you, but I can love you. And even if I give up hope, I won’t give up.

3. Truth: Then there are times when I am helping, and that’s magic. I can feel it when the tension relaxes, when a little bit of joy peaks in and I surrender to it. And it seems to happen without me having to make anything new. It seems to be more about allowing what already exists, sharing what’s already there.

One wish: May we get out of our own way, find more ease, help where we can and love where we can’t, and never ever ever give up.

1. Truth: No matter what, there’s always this. That’s what I thought when I saw the love note Eric had left me on the kitchen counter this morning. I don’t remember exactly why or when he started to leave them, just that it was somehow related to a really hard time I was having. It’s telling that I can’t remember which particular hard time that was, because there have been many in recent years. Once he found out I was saving the notes, he started leaving them all the time. It’s probably not entirely clear from the above picture, but this one is actually pretty elaborate — the paper was originally white and he colored in the background with a yellow highlighter.

2. Truth: You can’t breathe in the future or the past. This is an instruction Susan Piver sometimes gives as she’s leading the Open Heart Project in meditation. It reinforces the purpose of placing our attention on our breath, bringing us into the present moment because that is where our breath is happening. If you notice you are breathing, it is the present moment and you are present with it. It’s very practical, but I also love it as a metaphor. If you are caught up in some version of a future that may never actually happen or stuck in a past that is already dead, you can’t breathe. You are suffocating yourself by not being present for your experience as it is happening.

3. Truth: When I starve myself of what I need, I stay a hungry ghost. This is so true, so raw and tender, that I’m not even sure how to explain it to you, kind and gentle reader. I think right now I’m afraid to talk about it, to tell you the truth of it, to look it straight in the eye, or even to sit with it myself. I feel like if I name it, if I give it a form, the carefully constructed keeping it together will come apart at the seams. I’m caught up in old patterns of abandoning myself, denying myself, and in my suffering I seek out clarity and understanding, work to face my experience with compassion, and try not to give up. It’s all I can do.

One wish: We are all trying so hard. By the merit of our effort, may suffering be eased — in ourselves and in the world.