bow-22254_640It often can feel like your day (well, really, your life) says:

No, not today.

No, not you.

No, not ever.

When you see your hopes and dreams dashed, your stomach becomes one big knot.

Untie your stomach's knot by tying new dreams, new goals, new aspirations. Perhaps these new hopes weren't on your radar or in your plans yesterday or last year. But, they could be the ones that add the most meaning to your days and in your life.

Create a new knot which ties it all together--all you've learned, all you're experienced and all you do. It could top the best present you ever give yourself.

Life may have said No. You can say Yes to something better.

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Sometimes, it feels like the knots are the only thing holding me together, for my rope is so frayed with disappointment. At these times, I have a silly desire to write a book of \"witticisms\". My brain is a strange thing (and wondrous? That's debatable.)


Awe, I think I'm making some progress here! I want to say to anyone whose caregiving has ended, or anticipate an end coming, Denise's book, \"After Caregiving Ends--A Guide to Beginning Again\" so so helpful to me. Also had good info about taking care of estate stuff... so could help prepare for future too.


<a href=\"\" rel=\"nofollow\">@denise</a>, I love this post. It perfectly captures what last weekend was all about for me. I've been too consumed by? made too fearful by? this cancer business to move forward with plans for the house. And I'm not talking huge projects, either. Even something as simple as selecting some decorative pillows for the sofa has felt overwhelming and/or elicited thoughts akin to \"Why bother?\" Last week something happened (I won't get into it here but I may blog about it at some point) that made me feel (finally!) that I could aspire to something more, something better than just getting through the day. Who knows if that feeling will last but I'm milking it for all its worth right now. I organized a \"yard work\" party and with the help of friends and family regained control of our lawn and gardens. Then I arranged for a handyman I know (and more importantly trust :) ) to stop by on Friday to begin tackling a list of small repairs and other odd jobs. I couldn't believe how good it felt to be moving forward again and to have back some beloved memory-filled possessions (yes, I read your post too, <a href=\"\" rel=\"nofollow\">@janshriver</a> :) ) in need of repair: an old drop leaf kitchen table with a wonderful patina but a busted hinge; a huge gilt framed painting that I always meant to have hung in the front stairwell but never got around to; a primitive farm cupboard with a broken pane of glass. I was even inspired to take a couple of small area rugs out of storage and get a few Christmas decorations out. Why at one point, I think I was actually feeling somewhat gleeful! Michael bore witness to my giddy gaiety with a bemused grin. He said he hadn't seen me act that way in forever. It felt great and I hope this feeling sticks around for awhile.