Serenity is how I feel reading your work, Silvio. Sometimes I am away from books/writing and I feel something is missing, my mind polluted by a sense of trying to get somewhere and racing forwards. Then, like with meditation, I stop and read and find the peace and serenity and awareness I was lacking. Reading your posts is always like this, without fail.
This one was especially beautiful and moving and personal.
Thank you so much, really. It gives me solace to think that my writing can do that for even one person (and not just *any* person). While reading this latest beautiful comment from you, I thought that one day I should collect them all in a leather bound book with a golden spine and a burgundy cover. Seriously, Nathan, these are always such pearls to receive and read! :)
Hehe, I have had similar thoughts about certain comments I've received in the past too (including from yourself). It is a really lovely thing to have this record of feedback and thoughts attached to each post.
I've come to think of serenity as something we can cultivate, very imperfectly (through meditation, for me) - like a plant maybe, bearing in mind that it's a living thing that is prone to all sorts of misfortunes and sunny days both.
What would E think if they received this letter, I wonder?
Meditation is a big thing for me too, although it used to be bigger. And yes, I agree: we can cultivate serenity. I think, however, that its value is often either misunderstood or vastly underestimated until we feel its absence. I like the idea that it can be cultivated like a plant -- cared for.
E would be the only one, or one of the very few, to understand my situation (or the situation of the writer). She would reach out after maybe three decades of absence and solitude.
Thank you so much, Troy, for this beautiful comment.
Serenity is how I feel reading your work, Silvio. Sometimes I am away from books/writing and I feel something is missing, my mind polluted by a sense of trying to get somewhere and racing forwards. Then, like with meditation, I stop and read and find the peace and serenity and awareness I was lacking. Reading your posts is always like this, without fail.
This one was especially beautiful and moving and personal.
Thank you so much, really. It gives me solace to think that my writing can do that for even one person (and not just *any* person). While reading this latest beautiful comment from you, I thought that one day I should collect them all in a leather bound book with a golden spine and a burgundy cover. Seriously, Nathan, these are always such pearls to receive and read! :)
Hehe, I have had similar thoughts about certain comments I've received in the past too (including from yourself). It is a really lovely thing to have this record of feedback and thoughts attached to each post.
Indeed! Well said, my friend. :)
I've come to think of serenity as something we can cultivate, very imperfectly (through meditation, for me) - like a plant maybe, bearing in mind that it's a living thing that is prone to all sorts of misfortunes and sunny days both.
What would E think if they received this letter, I wonder?
Meditation is a big thing for me too, although it used to be bigger. And yes, I agree: we can cultivate serenity. I think, however, that its value is often either misunderstood or vastly underestimated until we feel its absence. I like the idea that it can be cultivated like a plant -- cared for.
E would be the only one, or one of the very few, to understand my situation (or the situation of the writer). She would reach out after maybe three decades of absence and solitude.
Thank you so much, Troy, for this beautiful comment.
Serenity is the horizon where sky and earth meet. You have described the 'meeting ' perfectly.
Your words are always precious, Boustan. Thank you!
This resonates and give 2025 another new depth, and height!
Indeed! Thank you, Jill!
Wonderful story! I only understood that concept after I had a near death experience. It has been my greatest teacher.
Yes, and that experience is STILL teaching me!
I'm sure it will be forever, Jill.
Thank you, Maria, for reading, appreciating, and sharing.
“Without problems, serenity doesn’t exist because you don’t understand its meaning, let alone its value.”
This is so true, Silvio. Just like the Japanese idea of “mono no aware”… the beauty of impermanence makes life more precious.
Yes, exactly! Thank you so much, Ann, for sharing this.
Oh I would love serenity, too!
Hope your year is starting well, Silvio :)
It’s the rarest and most valuable state of mind. I hope you experience it in abundance in the new year, Kate! :)
…peace and alohahaha brother…
To you too, my friend.
Serenity is a worthy goal for the New Year; hope you (and we all) find it!
It is the goal. Thank you, Rose.