Perhaps then, the real illusion is that we expect love to be effortless, easy and as natural as that initial feeling of falling. Yet once those dizzying romantic neurochemicals have subsided, we are left with an individual in front of us who is equally as flawed and complex as ourselves. But we were never told about this part of the story because this is the part that doesn’t sell.
Creativity is such a beautiful gift. It’s a part of us all, yet some of us indulge in it while others just bat it away like an annoying fly.
How can we know love without being destroyed by it?
And unfortunately, there is no “quick fix” or “30-day program” to getting over the death of a loved one. Some scars never heal.
I’ve noticed that when I treat my extroverted side with the right mix of ingredients, the introverted side benefits for many days, even months. It’s sort of like a symbiotic relationship.
I’ve come to realize that healing from the death of a loved one is really just a matter of allowing all these emotions to pass through me rather than denying, running, and shutting them down.
Presence is like kryptonite to the ego.
When someone we love dies, it’s only in our minds or in our dreams where we can visit them. Having something physical that you can see can be healing.
It seems like the act of marriage elicits a divisive response. It is either a worthwhile achievement or an outdated tradition that needs to be abolished.
As a recovering advice-giver, I know how hard it is.