Cheryl Strayed - Tiny Beautiful Things

"This how you get unstuck, Stuck" You reach.

I love that. You reach. You got to do something.  Hopefully you choose the right thing, or the almost closest thing that you can. And then keep trying.

"This is not your responsibility. But it is your problem."

Responsibility: ........having control over someone. So many things I dont have controls over yet they remain problems. I can just be the Director of causes. The right ones, I hope, otherwise keep learning and trying.

"We are all savages inside. We all want to be the chosen, the beloved, the esteemed". We all  have that voice indeed, but we do not to execute as that voice says.

Chery Strayed - Stuck

"Or at least not anything that was genuinely, mind-fuckingly, soul-crushngly life altering. Some of those people believe they are being helpful by minimizing your pain. Others are scared of the intensity of your loss and so they use their words to push your grief away. Many of those people love you are worthy of your love, but they are not the people who will be helpful to you when it comes to healing the pain of your daughters' death. They live on Planet Earth. You live on Planet My Baby Died. "

Indeed.
Good intentions is ,without debate a, good start but it wont necessarily deliver results.
Good intentions has nothing, necessarily, to do with good efficient and effective execution.
But we all tend to help in those very terms in which we would like to receive help, we fail to help in term's of the other party.
Sometimes because we don't know.
Sometimes because we assume our opinion is everybody's opinion (and how could it not in our little heads?). If we could show empathy, Gosh! sometimes it is all that is needed. Then with skillful means  ask how to help. Hopefully we are ready to be pushed away, because people ( I mean me) will probably need first of all, space.
Space to figure out things.
Space to grieve.
Space, without you around.

Cheryl Strayed on her mom....

One of her  passages from "Wild"

“I was her daughter, but more. I was Karen, Cheryl, Leif. Karen Cheryl Leif. KarenCherylLeif. Our names blurred into one in my mother’s mouth all my life. She whispered it and hollered it, hissed it and crooned it. We were her kids, her comrades, the end of her and the beginning. We took turns riding shotgun with her in the car. “Do I love you this much?” she’d ask us, holding her hands six inches apart. “No,” we’d say, with sly smiles. “Do I love you this much?” she’d ask again, and on and on and on, each time moving her hands farther apart. But she would never get there, no matter how wide she stretched her arms. The amount that she loved us was beyond her reach. It could not be quantified or contained. It was the ten thousand named things in the Tao Te Ching’s universe and then ten thousand more. Her love was full-throated and all-encompassing and unadorned. Every day she blew through her entire reserve.”  

And then it got me thinking more about what 'people' (I mean me) , when people are loved so much - even if you are not fully aware at the beginning , even if you think that your parents are uncool.... eventually one realizes how really a parent's love can not to be quantified. Then, the question is what are you supposed to do with your self so full of love......other than give it to others? Even if that parent dies, that love is still in you and the question remains. What are you going to do?