Jane, the heartbreak and the heart-mending in this piece are so beautifully juxtaposed. Thank you for allowing us into the beautiful complexity of your mind and your soul here. I'm so sad that your life was so upended by a freak accident, so upset that you had to live with such resolve, and also so moved by your tenacity and the fact that you called yourself home.
Jane, I'm so sorry for what you've been through. Absolutely horrendous. What a beautiful thing is your love voice. I have been through the wringer in the last few years, and the last few weeks especially difficult (nowhere near as awful as you have suffered) and reading your post made me realise I need to listen to my own love voice. We are all so quick to condemn and blame ourselves, when we should be kinder. We would do that to others so why not to ourselves? Thank you for that sage advice. Sending much love and healing to you.
Thank you so much, Suzanne, for such kind words. They've gone right to my heart. And, yes, we are far too quick to condemn and blame ourselves. May we all learn to honor our love voices!! And I'm sorry you've been going through an awful time. I hope things are better soon.
Jane, thank you for showing what a love voice sounds like to those of us who may be newer at it. And for sharing your courage. Sending the power of healing thoughts to you. May you one day be freed of these crippling symptoms.
Jane, I was instantly drawn to the title of this when it arrived in my e-mail notifications. I commend you on your journey - and I mean it! Learning to love ourselves is often one of the hardest things we will ever do (in my opinion).
Your post arrived in a week when I started to accept and indeed love my previous self. For some reason, I began looking for some old articles I had written in the British music press in the 1980s. When I found some AND managed to buy the magazine where the one with the most memories attached was (Bob Geldof 1985) it gave me an unfamiliar feeling of pride - in myself. Pride in what I had achieved back then and love for that person. It also gave me a feeling of love and pride for who I am today and inspired me to keep on doing what I love (writing).
Learning to love oneself is indeed a lesson that requires a lifetime of attention.
Oh, that's so beautiful, Lee! I love that you could look at your work and feel such contentment and joy in being you!! Yay! Dang, can you imagine if we had this in our youth?! And thank you deeply for your kind words. They mean more than I can say.
My goodness, you are remarkable. I view chronic healing as a beautiful lifestyle and your incredible story pierced my heart. Thank you for sharing it. It feels hard because it is hard, not because you are doing anything wrong. I love you, Jane.
This is one of the most moving things I have ever read. Mindful self-compassion meditation (which you seem to have intuitively taught yourself) changed my life. I am rooting for you so hard in every way and am so grateful for the gorgeous words with which you shared your story. Thank you. ❤️
Keep loving yourself. It’s a pity we live in a culture where the power of love is so incredibly diminished. I have very little idea of how, at times beyond despair, beyond any language, a gentle, yet oh so powerful force starts holding us, guiding us, loving us. It heals when all else fails, even the ability to find any meaning anywhere.
As you might have guessed by now, I have had my own journey beyond despair and beyond language. Stay with yourself my dear. Just let you love you. You are held.
Please keep writing. We need you🙏🏽. And please feel free to reach out to me any time at all if you need a friendly kindred ear.
Oh my goodness, Kumkum, what you write is so beautiful and so accurate. Thank you for sharing these exquisite words with me. They mean so much. And thank you for your kindness and support. It sounds like your that portion of your journey is behind you? I hope!
This is my story, too. This part, at least. I was hit by a drunk with a truck in 2006. You wrote: "As hard as it is to fathom, in those days the general public, and even many doctors, understood very little about head and brain injury; it would be years before the soldiers and football players were all over the news. So after a long wait in ER, I’d simply left, certain I’d be fine. And the fancy Upper East Side doctor I saw the next day who didn’t order a CTscan, MRI, or Xray agreed.
I'm so sorry to hear of your long struggle to heal from such a traumatic event and injury. Thank you for sharing your story of grit and grace and reclaiming Jane with love. You are an inspiration.
I had to stop and think about this part: "I didn’t ignore her or make fun of her or ask her to leave. I didn’t say she didn’t know what she was talking about (I intuitively understood that she did) or diminish her or tell her that the never enough voice knew more and that she should acquiesce to him."
How interesting that the loving voice was female, and the harmful voice was male. I'm not trying to say "men are bad". I just wonder where these unloving voices start. It's clear that the loving voice is your highest self. But the unloving voice? Who is he and where did he come from? (Rhetorical question, I guess. Unless you have a theory!).
My unloving voice has almost disappeared now that I started listening to him, and politely correcting him. He spoke a lot like my father, and would yell "idiot!" for the smallest of things. A piece of carrot rolling off the cutting board. A spilled cup of water. I'm really appreciative of getting older, of becoming more aware of my thoughts. It's life changing.
Ooooh, Denise, I so relate to this! And I do have a theory! But it's not something I can I can (yet!!) write about. But you should write about this! What you wrote here is lovely! Thank you for your kind words! xx
Thank you so much for this beautiful and intimate piece, Jane. I can't tell you how many times I've read one of your posts and thought "oh my God, somebody else feels this, too!" I began hearing that sudden, unbidden voice of love from deep within while I was finding my way out of a toxic marriage. When I experienced a sexual assault, the voice got louder. When I developed long Covid, it became my closest companion. It's woken me up in the middle of the night. It's greeted me first thing in the morning and tucked me into bed. I can't always hear it, but I've heard it often enough now to know that it's always there beneath the noisy surface of things, patiently waiting for me to attune my ears again. Thank you for putting such gorgeous and resonant words to this experience.
I read a quote from David Whyte the other day (in "Consolations) that spoke deeply to me as someone living with chronic illness, and I thought of it again reading your post. He says that "human genius lies in the geography of the body and its conversation with the world." Reading it I thought about how each conversation with the world is a particular conversation, an interaction between the world and a particular body. As much as I would love to be done with long Covid symptoms once and for all, I'm also aware that the particular conversation I've been having with life in these past 4+ years is the richest, most transformative conversation I've ever participated in, and it wouldn't be happening if my body were a tidy, manicured lawn. And so I am grateful in many (not all) moments for the strange and unpredictable geography of my body. And I am grateful - truly, deeply grateful - that you're letting us in on your own beautiful (genius!) conversation with life.
Oh, this is beautiful, Lisa! Thank you for sharing. I'm sorry for all you've lived through. But I'm so glad you have your love voice. It changes everything, doesn't it. And what a beautiful quote from David Whyte! Yes, these conversations are transformative, indeed. ❤️
I just realized that for days I’ve been interpreting “geography” as “geology” (in the David Whyte quote). It’s a brain foggy week, but I still like the meanings that’s ended up conjuring for me. 😂
this is so beautiful...and essential to folks (women, the marginalized, etc) who are told their stories don't matter. told they are worth less. they just need to "work harder." to say hear "i love, ____" and let that voice rise above the clanging noise of the dominating culture, oh what a gift. you are a gift. thank you.
Oooh, thank you, Anne. Your words mean so much! I wish I could take more credit for it...the voice just appeared! But I'm so grateful she did. And that I listened! ❤️
An extremely moving, dynamic essay that should be read by doctors, by caregivers, by anyone who has dealt with a body that has limitations, anyone who knows anyone who has a body with limitations ....anyone with a body. Thank you for sharing this.
Jane, thank you for this writing. i greatly appreciate your candor, and especially the reveal of the polarity, the cultural berating and the soul/spirit love. your message is medicine for me. 🙏🏼
Jane, the heartbreak and the heart-mending in this piece are so beautifully juxtaposed. Thank you for allowing us into the beautiful complexity of your mind and your soul here. I'm so sad that your life was so upended by a freak accident, so upset that you had to live with such resolve, and also so moved by your tenacity and the fact that you called yourself home.
Oooooh, thank you for your beautiful words, Kendall. They mean so much! Heartbreak and heart-mending. Yes! I love that!
Jane, I'm so sorry for what you've been through. Absolutely horrendous. What a beautiful thing is your love voice. I have been through the wringer in the last few years, and the last few weeks especially difficult (nowhere near as awful as you have suffered) and reading your post made me realise I need to listen to my own love voice. We are all so quick to condemn and blame ourselves, when we should be kinder. We would do that to others so why not to ourselves? Thank you for that sage advice. Sending much love and healing to you.
Thank you so much, Suzanne, for such kind words. They've gone right to my heart. And, yes, we are far too quick to condemn and blame ourselves. May we all learn to honor our love voices!! And I'm sorry you've been going through an awful time. I hope things are better soon.
Jane, thank you for showing what a love voice sounds like to those of us who may be newer at it. And for sharing your courage. Sending the power of healing thoughts to you. May you one day be freed of these crippling symptoms.
Thank you, Alice. Your words mean so much! Many of these symptoms have cleared. Thank goodness. I'm hopeful I can heal more!
What an incredible story. I am so moved by your determination and bravery.
Oh, thank you, Alice. Your words mean so much!
Jane, I was instantly drawn to the title of this when it arrived in my e-mail notifications. I commend you on your journey - and I mean it! Learning to love ourselves is often one of the hardest things we will ever do (in my opinion).
Your post arrived in a week when I started to accept and indeed love my previous self. For some reason, I began looking for some old articles I had written in the British music press in the 1980s. When I found some AND managed to buy the magazine where the one with the most memories attached was (Bob Geldof 1985) it gave me an unfamiliar feeling of pride - in myself. Pride in what I had achieved back then and love for that person. It also gave me a feeling of love and pride for who I am today and inspired me to keep on doing what I love (writing).
Learning to love oneself is indeed a lesson that requires a lifetime of attention.
Oh, that's so beautiful, Lee! I love that you could look at your work and feel such contentment and joy in being you!! Yay! Dang, can you imagine if we had this in our youth?! And thank you deeply for your kind words. They mean more than I can say.
I think in my youth I was too busy being 'important' lol, and you are more than welcome:)
Me, too!
My goodness, you are remarkable. I view chronic healing as a beautiful lifestyle and your incredible story pierced my heart. Thank you for sharing it. It feels hard because it is hard, not because you are doing anything wrong. I love you, Jane.
Oh, gosh, thank you, Caitlin. Your words mean so much!
This is one of the most moving things I have ever read. Mindful self-compassion meditation (which you seem to have intuitively taught yourself) changed my life. I am rooting for you so hard in every way and am so grateful for the gorgeous words with which you shared your story. Thank you. ❤️
Thank you deeply, Alexandra. Your words have touched my heart. ❤️
Keep loving yourself. It’s a pity we live in a culture where the power of love is so incredibly diminished. I have very little idea of how, at times beyond despair, beyond any language, a gentle, yet oh so powerful force starts holding us, guiding us, loving us. It heals when all else fails, even the ability to find any meaning anywhere.
As you might have guessed by now, I have had my own journey beyond despair and beyond language. Stay with yourself my dear. Just let you love you. You are held.
Please keep writing. We need you🙏🏽. And please feel free to reach out to me any time at all if you need a friendly kindred ear.
Oh my goodness, Kumkum, what you write is so beautiful and so accurate. Thank you for sharing these exquisite words with me. They mean so much. And thank you for your kindness and support. It sounds like your that portion of your journey is behind you? I hope!
This is my story, too. This part, at least. I was hit by a drunk with a truck in 2006. You wrote: "As hard as it is to fathom, in those days the general public, and even many doctors, understood very little about head and brain injury; it would be years before the soldiers and football players were all over the news. So after a long wait in ER, I’d simply left, certain I’d be fine. And the fancy Upper East Side doctor I saw the next day who didn’t order a CTscan, MRI, or Xray agreed.
I was not fine."
My stack is called Dispatch from Bewilderness.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Judith! I hope you're in a better place now.
I'm so sorry to hear of your long struggle to heal from such a traumatic event and injury. Thank you for sharing your story of grit and grace and reclaiming Jane with love. You are an inspiration.
Oh, thank you, Paulette! Your words mean so much!
A beautiful essay, I'm so glad to have read this.
I had to stop and think about this part: "I didn’t ignore her or make fun of her or ask her to leave. I didn’t say she didn’t know what she was talking about (I intuitively understood that she did) or diminish her or tell her that the never enough voice knew more and that she should acquiesce to him."
How interesting that the loving voice was female, and the harmful voice was male. I'm not trying to say "men are bad". I just wonder where these unloving voices start. It's clear that the loving voice is your highest self. But the unloving voice? Who is he and where did he come from? (Rhetorical question, I guess. Unless you have a theory!).
My unloving voice has almost disappeared now that I started listening to him, and politely correcting him. He spoke a lot like my father, and would yell "idiot!" for the smallest of things. A piece of carrot rolling off the cutting board. A spilled cup of water. I'm really appreciative of getting older, of becoming more aware of my thoughts. It's life changing.
Thank you for sharing your incredible story.
Ooooh, Denise, I so relate to this! And I do have a theory! But it's not something I can I can (yet!!) write about. But you should write about this! What you wrote here is lovely! Thank you for your kind words! xx
This will linger. Thank you for writing this. It was beautiful.
Thank you so much, Katy!! Your words mean a lot.
Thank you so much for this beautiful and intimate piece, Jane. I can't tell you how many times I've read one of your posts and thought "oh my God, somebody else feels this, too!" I began hearing that sudden, unbidden voice of love from deep within while I was finding my way out of a toxic marriage. When I experienced a sexual assault, the voice got louder. When I developed long Covid, it became my closest companion. It's woken me up in the middle of the night. It's greeted me first thing in the morning and tucked me into bed. I can't always hear it, but I've heard it often enough now to know that it's always there beneath the noisy surface of things, patiently waiting for me to attune my ears again. Thank you for putting such gorgeous and resonant words to this experience.
I read a quote from David Whyte the other day (in "Consolations) that spoke deeply to me as someone living with chronic illness, and I thought of it again reading your post. He says that "human genius lies in the geography of the body and its conversation with the world." Reading it I thought about how each conversation with the world is a particular conversation, an interaction between the world and a particular body. As much as I would love to be done with long Covid symptoms once and for all, I'm also aware that the particular conversation I've been having with life in these past 4+ years is the richest, most transformative conversation I've ever participated in, and it wouldn't be happening if my body were a tidy, manicured lawn. And so I am grateful in many (not all) moments for the strange and unpredictable geography of my body. And I am grateful - truly, deeply grateful - that you're letting us in on your own beautiful (genius!) conversation with life.
Oh, this is beautiful, Lisa! Thank you for sharing. I'm sorry for all you've lived through. But I'm so glad you have your love voice. It changes everything, doesn't it. And what a beautiful quote from David Whyte! Yes, these conversations are transformative, indeed. ❤️
I just realized that for days I’ve been interpreting “geography” as “geology” (in the David Whyte quote). It’s a brain foggy week, but I still like the meanings that’s ended up conjuring for me. 😂
Both are wonderful!!
this is so beautiful...and essential to folks (women, the marginalized, etc) who are told their stories don't matter. told they are worth less. they just need to "work harder." to say hear "i love, ____" and let that voice rise above the clanging noise of the dominating culture, oh what a gift. you are a gift. thank you.
Oooh, thank you, Anne. Your words mean so much! I wish I could take more credit for it...the voice just appeared! But I'm so grateful she did. And that I listened! ❤️
An extremely moving, dynamic essay that should be read by doctors, by caregivers, by anyone who has dealt with a body that has limitations, anyone who knows anyone who has a body with limitations ....anyone with a body. Thank you for sharing this.
Ooooh, thank you, Allison! Your words went straight to my heart! ❤️
Jane, thank you for this writing. i greatly appreciate your candor, and especially the reveal of the polarity, the cultural berating and the soul/spirit love. your message is medicine for me. 🙏🏼
Oh, gosh, thank you, katsden. Your words mean so much!! ❤️