Tag: Heather Havrilesky

Maybe I’m not so bad after all

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He recognizes that when we forgive ourselves for being flawed and human, we naturally spread that forgiveness to others. Forgive yourself every morning, every night, every few minutes, if that’s what it takes….You tell yourself again and again: I am doing my best. And in fact, every life is an impossible tangle of mistakes. Flailing confusedly, craving more love, more safety, less loneliness isn’t just human; it’s the signature move of every human alive.

What’s incredibly sad but ultimately hopeful is that by the end of his book, Mr. Perry seemed to be waking up to the simple joys of gratitude, connection and empathy. He seemed ready to forgive himself for not living up to his own perfectionist standards….

His honesty in the face of his enormous pain should remind us that all human lives are formed from a tangle of mistakes. We will all mess up, today and tomorrow, but forgiveness shapes us into something less punitive and more sublime, a person who offers love instead of demanding it, a person who seeks peace instead of vengeance, a person who has the courage to say what Mr. Perry finally says to himself at the very end of his book:

“I look out at the water, and I say very quietly, ‘Maybe I’m not so bad after all.’”

— Heather Havrilesky, from “Matthew Perry Told the Truth About Everything” (NY Times, November 3, 2023). Matthew Perry, 54, died October 28, 2023.

Matthew Perry Portrait from People Magazine, October 29, 2023: Matthew Perry Once Said He’d Give Up Fame and Fortune to Avoid Facing Addiction: ‘I Would Trade It All’

I need a belief system

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sleep-rest-light-sun-woman

Heather Havrilesky, Like a Prayer:

I don’t believe in God, but I need some kind of a prayer to repeat when things go haywire. I need a prayer because, as a writer with several unruly dependents under my roof, each day is a rollercoaster, a crapshoot, an exercise in uncertainty.

[…]

See how the tiniest events can shift the barometer just enough to stir up a storm? My buoyant mood sinks. The day that felt so full of promise sags, landing in a haze of exhaustion and niggling worries by the time I crawl into bed.

I need a belief system. I need a morning ritual. I need to say some bold and glorious words out loud at the start of the day, to remind myself who I am and what I’m doing and what the point of it all is. Unfortunately, I don’t like saying bold and glorious words out loud. So I need a prayer that’s not too prayer-like. I need a belief system that doesn’t require me to suspend my disbelief.

[…]

So instead, I just lay in bed and tried to think of every member of my family and every one of my closest friends. I started with my husband, my kids, my mother, my sisters, my brother, their spouses and kids, my aunts, and my father, who’s been dead for 19 years. Then I listed my close friends. I put them in alphabetical order so they were easier to remember.

The next day, it was much easier to remember everyone, even though it had been hard the first time.

And by the third day, the names felt almost like a prayer.

It’s been a month, and now every morning I just say my prayer of names. Doing that makes me realise that I do have a belief system: almost everything is superfluous, except people. People matter. And there’s a strange emancipation that comes from acknowledging the people you love, and giving them your love, even when you know they can’t always understand you, accept you or love you back. People are flawed. But people will surprise you.

We aren’t on this Earth to improve endlessly, forever approaching infinite perfection but never quite getting there. We are here to notice the enormity and beauty of everything around us, and to notice each other – to notice how flawed we all are, and feel connected anyway.

Read entire essay by Heather Havrilesky at Aeon Magazine @ Like a Prayer.

Image Credit: Tanya Moss

They liked the cut of her jib. And so did I.

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portrait

“…One Sunday morning, when I was running out to get some groceries, I saw a big woman standing on the sidewalk, waving a Yard Sale sign around. She was wearing an outfit that didn’t compliment her body. Her boobs were jiggling and bouncing in a wild way, but she was smiling and shaking this big piece of cardboard with something scrawled on it. You could barely read the words. The writing was in ballpoint pen and maybe she ran out of room for the address because the last part was squeezed in there, and then there was this huge space under the words anyway. The whole thing was very unprofessional, the kind of thing that, if I had done it myself, I would’ve ripped it up, declaring it unacceptable, and then I would’ve complained about how I didn’t have anymore goddamn poster board to start another sign. Then I probably would’ve blamed my husband for not buying more poster board at the drugstore. ‘When I say get some poster board, that word “some” means more than one piece.’

I also would not have put on that outfit, if I were as big as she was. I’m not slender, mind you. But let’s be honest: if I were her, I would’ve looked in the mirror and moaned softly and then crawled back into bed. Even with a perfectly good outfit on, I wouldn’t have agreed to stand on the curb with a bad sign, drawing attention to myself. No way. If I were her, I would’ve made my husband stand around with the sign, and then I would’ve blamed him when the yard sale got too crowded and hectic. ‘Where have you been? I can’t handle this whole thing on my own! This was YOUR IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!’ Continue reading “They liked the cut of her jib. And so did I.” →