What’s this, I hear you say, another blog post only a few days after the last one? Actually, you’re probably not saying that because nobody reads this blog any more (or blogs in general, apparently, and sadly).
Anyway, if you are reading, my last two readers, I have to bring to your attention these two things, about which I have little add, because they are eloquent on their own.
Oliver Sacks: Sabbath
The last paragraph in particular makes my heart ache:
“And now, weak, short of breath, my once-firm muscles melted away by cancer, I find my thoughts, increasingly, not on the supernatural or spiritual, but on what is meant by living a good and worthwhile life — achieving a sense of peace within oneself. I find my thoughts drifting to the Sabbath, the day of rest, the seventh day of the week, and perhaps the seventh day of one’s life as well, when one can feel that one’s work is done, and one may, in good conscience, rest.”
On my new lifestyle
“I’m not that kind of woman, I want to say to the people who look at me as if I am a woman with a dog in a bag. I want to gesture, to explain, but they’ll probably look at the bag, which has a dog’s head sticking out of it. The face of the dog-head will be making an expression like Andy Rooney would make if he was riding the subway in a bag. And the fact of that dog-head will surely trump anything I have to say about what kind of a woman I am, or what kind of dog I have in a bag, even though it is not a dog that was born for a bag. So I won’t say it. I’ll just pet the dog in my bag and think: I guess I’m not so afraid of commitment.”
(Jean writes posts that hide so much warmth and intelligence behind humour. Or should I say, not hide, but display them through humour?)
Jean also has a newsletter you should totally sign up for.