"I am coming to terms with my humanity . . . I am constantly asking what it means to live with an openness that invites healing and profound grace. " Me too. Thank you as always, Swarnali. I look forward to your future posts and all the pictures!
Oh my gosh, every second of this was so incredible.
The love you hold for yours can be felt throughout--but more than that, the love you hold for our collective Mother and the way we must intentionally care for one another to ultimately care for her is so powerful. Thank you for writing this, my magical friend. You hold such power in your words, and I am so moved by them.
I am sending you and your mom so much love - I hope that which ails her lifts. 💜💜 She deserves lightness and joy, as we all do. 💜💜
Beloved friend, your kindness overwhelms me in all the right ways. I feel such gratitude in my heart to have found you.
May we fight for one another and our big blue mother till the end of line. May we see to it that justice, love, healing, and peace prevails, no matter how long and far we have to go for it. Together, we will.
Wow, this whole piece. Stunningly good writing. I have a friend who is in deep grief right now and I sent her a link to this. I know she will enjoy reading it. I have also saved it for myself to return to. Thank you.
Dear Nelly, thank you for stepping in here. My heart aches for your friend. Thank you for sharing my words with her. I feel worthy of the world when someone finds comfort in my words. I invite you and your friends to figuratively ‘sit with me’ in silence of the lurking unknown and let each other know that it is going to be alright.
I lost my father last summer and eventually wrote an essay about love and grief while still at the deep end of it. Maybe your friend might find some comfort in that essay too. I am removing paywall from it so that you can share it with her. My love to you both.
Swarnali, as ever, your words reach into the depths of me and move me to tears. Sending so much love to you and your mother as you navigate grief and these times we live in. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Beautiful words x
No words, Swarnali, this is so achingly beautiful. ✨ Thank you.💜 I'm sending love for you and your mother. And I'm really looking forward to the essays you mention at the end.
Swarna, you are such a gifted writer it is almost always beyond my own words to express appreciation.
"Is parenthood, too, a state of becoming responsible for someone far beyond one’s capacity to keep promises?" In short, yes. I've thought about caregiving a lot over the past couple years (of all kinds, not just parenting), and recently mulling over the reality that it's almost impossible to explain what it's like to be responsible for the welfare and well-being of another human being day in and day out. the time, the commitment. But there's also the point where it turns you into yourself, if you let it. Face the losses and the fears.
I love your writing on this and everything else. Thank you, for being you, and for sharing yourself with the rest of us. 🧚
Nia, That means more to me than I can properly convey. Thank you.
Caregiving, in any form, is one of those things that reshapes a person from the inside out, often in ways that words don’t quite match. There’s a quiet, inescapable reckoning in it—the weight of responsibility, the slow erosion of self, but also the strange and unexpected becoming. I think you’re right: if you let it, it turns you into yourself. Maybe because there’s no way to do it without confronting limits, without facing the losses and the fears you’d rather turn away from.
Your words hold so much care and love. I feel it deeply in my heart. And I’m grateful for you, sister 💜🧚🏽♀️
"the slow erosion of self, but also the strange and unexpected becoming. I think you’re right: if you let it, it turns you into yourself." How well you always put things, your turns of phrasing and language always another exploration that opens up new vistas and thoughts. Wonderful! Grateful for you, too, star-sister.
"I am coming to terms with my humanity . . . I am constantly asking what it means to live with an openness that invites healing and profound grace. " Me too. Thank you as always, Swarnali. I look forward to your future posts and all the pictures!
Thank you Emily. So deeply grateful 💜
Likewise:)
Oh my gosh, every second of this was so incredible.
The love you hold for yours can be felt throughout--but more than that, the love you hold for our collective Mother and the way we must intentionally care for one another to ultimately care for her is so powerful. Thank you for writing this, my magical friend. You hold such power in your words, and I am so moved by them.
I am sending you and your mom so much love - I hope that which ails her lifts. 💜💜 She deserves lightness and joy, as we all do. 💜💜
Beloved friend, your kindness overwhelms me in all the right ways. I feel such gratitude in my heart to have found you.
May we fight for one another and our big blue mother till the end of line. May we see to it that justice, love, healing, and peace prevails, no matter how long and far we have to go for it. Together, we will.
This is so, so beautifully put.
And you so are you, Nia. I feel so blessed to walk the line alongside my sisters 💜
Me too, my friend. Me, too.
So much love and positive energy to you wonderful women 💜💜💜
💜💜
Wow, this whole piece. Stunningly good writing. I have a friend who is in deep grief right now and I sent her a link to this. I know she will enjoy reading it. I have also saved it for myself to return to. Thank you.
Dear Nelly, thank you for stepping in here. My heart aches for your friend. Thank you for sharing my words with her. I feel worthy of the world when someone finds comfort in my words. I invite you and your friends to figuratively ‘sit with me’ in silence of the lurking unknown and let each other know that it is going to be alright.
I lost my father last summer and eventually wrote an essay about love and grief while still at the deep end of it. Maybe your friend might find some comfort in that essay too. I am removing paywall from it so that you can share it with her. My love to you both.
Here it is : https://berkana.cc/p/whats-once-loved-can-never-be-lost?r=diu7d&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=false
Thank you so much. What a world we live in. At one moment terrifying and the next so connected by care and compassion (and art!!!)
It is a terrifying yet beautiful world we live in dear one. I am happy to have met you across space-time. So grateful that you arrived here 💜
Swarnali, as ever, your words reach into the depths of me and move me to tears. Sending so much love to you and your mother as you navigate grief and these times we live in. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. Beautiful words x
Thank you sweet friend. So much love back to you and yours 💜
No words, Swarnali, this is so achingly beautiful. ✨ Thank you.💜 I'm sending love for you and your mother. And I'm really looking forward to the essays you mention at the end.
I am so grateful for your presence here my friend. Thank you 🙏
Swarna, you are such a gifted writer it is almost always beyond my own words to express appreciation.
"Is parenthood, too, a state of becoming responsible for someone far beyond one’s capacity to keep promises?" In short, yes. I've thought about caregiving a lot over the past couple years (of all kinds, not just parenting), and recently mulling over the reality that it's almost impossible to explain what it's like to be responsible for the welfare and well-being of another human being day in and day out. the time, the commitment. But there's also the point where it turns you into yourself, if you let it. Face the losses and the fears.
I love your writing on this and everything else. Thank you, for being you, and for sharing yourself with the rest of us. 🧚
Nia, That means more to me than I can properly convey. Thank you.
Caregiving, in any form, is one of those things that reshapes a person from the inside out, often in ways that words don’t quite match. There’s a quiet, inescapable reckoning in it—the weight of responsibility, the slow erosion of self, but also the strange and unexpected becoming. I think you’re right: if you let it, it turns you into yourself. Maybe because there’s no way to do it without confronting limits, without facing the losses and the fears you’d rather turn away from.
Your words hold so much care and love. I feel it deeply in my heart. And I’m grateful for you, sister 💜🧚🏽♀️
"the slow erosion of self, but also the strange and unexpected becoming. I think you’re right: if you let it, it turns you into yourself." How well you always put things, your turns of phrasing and language always another exploration that opens up new vistas and thoughts. Wonderful! Grateful for you, too, star-sister.
💜💜