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โ€œWhat if all our lives were simply attention to them both?โ€ This statement sums it all up Nia. Most of us are so deep in slumber, so blissfully unaware of the wonders and the horrors of human existence, that we sometimes tend to lose our tendency to empathise, to understand that others too mirror our experiences of joy and pain alike. We are all alike.

Thank you dear Nia for being a part of this conversation. Your thoughts are valued deeply. ๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸŒผ

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Whatever my thoughts are that find a space here, it's your own reverberating thoughts that bring them out. ๐Ÿงก๐Ÿงก๐Ÿงก

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Iโ€™m so content to be able to provide a space like this for your words and ideas to flow. As do for me within your community. Iโ€™m so deeply content than I would have been with tens and thousands of subscribers but none with whom I can hold space of flow and conversations ๐Ÿชท

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Swarna, there are no words to express the heartbreaking beauty and truth of this piece. So many gorgeous images of the soul's dance. My Tibetan teacher always repeats the Buddhist philosophy that you reflected, "Compassion is both the path and the result of a spiritual practice."

"Maybe death is all but a transformation from one form to another, a total metamorphosis to strip familiarity and hence evoke a love beyond attachment."--- your wisdom meets your writing genius.

Sending you light and comfort๐ŸŒบ

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Sweet Renee, thank you for guiding me through this difficult times. A lot of these nuggets are inspired and influenced by your practices and writings. Iโ€™m deeply grateful for your boundless compassion and constant support. ๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸŒผ

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I cannot even begin to tell you how this both wrung me out and filled me up again. I think a lot about grief and how little the dominant culture allows for true mourning, for space and relationship of any kind. There is so much *power* in your writing about all of this, Swarna. I've come back and reread it three times now and it still won't be enough. And that rose seller ... I thought immediately of smiles I exchanged with a rose seller in Russia in the depths of winter on a rutted road behind the Moscow train stations. Beauty and grief, all around us, all the time. What if all our lives were simply attention to them both?

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This was so moving--the rose seller, the necessity of witness, of finding room for compassion and pain in a world that demands that we pretend otherwise. I loved this line: "It is โ€˜weโ€™ who suffer, it is for โ€˜usโ€™ that we heal."--that feels like the sum of everything about living in this world, but that is so neglected. Thinking of you and sending love.๐Ÿ’œ

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We really do forget what matters the most donโ€™t we, blissfully unaware of our lack of compassion and empathy for everyone who suffer as much as we do. It is only suffering of this illusion of self that we attach to so deeply that awakens the spirit of compassion and in that way suffering is almost necessary for evolution.

Thank you dear friend for finding time for reading this. Your presence and participation makes everything better. You awaken the best in me. ๐Ÿ’œ๐ŸŒผ

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๐Ÿ’œ Same! ๐Ÿ’œ

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This was beautiful. Thank you for sharing this. The rose seller...

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Thank you Charlotte for reading.

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