Failed?
Lift yourself up, or live there.
You know the work you need to do, be it physical, mental, emotional or spiritual, etc. So do it. Do the work.
The only bitterness in failure comes from not having the guts to get back up again.
Rainstorms are gangrenous- avoid driving in them or being out on foot.
I’ve personally known people who have died from lightening strikes (running) and falling tree limbs (in their car. The mom in drivers’ seat and child in front seat both died.)
Connect with people however you can, in whatever way feels natural to you: Talk, listen, perform, compete, create, laugh, pray, explore, share your truth, acknowledge the divine in yourself and in everyone you meet.
Healing takes time. You can't rush it. Whether it's your body, your mind or your heart that's hurting... you just have to let it heal in its own time. What you CAN do is to take good care of yourself: eat, rest, stay close to loved ones. Do things that bring you joy. Revel in the smallest steps forward. You'll heal, things will get better. Trust. Love. Serve. Live.
Con-men (or women) appear perfect. They are good-looking, kind, flattering, etc. Most people are good. But be careful of those who seem to be too good.
The thing about behavior is that if you practice you get better. That goes for good behavior and bad behavior. The more you lie, cheat, etc. the better u get. Decide What kind of behavior you want to be good at and then practice practice
When I say I want you to be happy I’m not talking about pleasure and ease. I mean purpose and pride you in yourself, meaningful work, and a solid group of friends and family who loves you for who you are, so you don’t ever have to pretend to be something you’re not.
Blessing for the Brokenhearted: Poem by Jan Richardson
___________
"There is no remedy for love but to love more."
– Henry David Thoreau
________________________
________________________
Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.
__________Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.
___________Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart
so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this—
as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,
as if it sees
the heart’s sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,
as if it trusts
that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider's webs. It's not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.” -unknown