"Grief no more needs a solution than love needs a solution. We cannot 'triumph' over death, or loss, or grief. They are immovable elements of being alive. If we continue to come at them as though they are problems to be solved, we'll never get solace or comfort in our deepest pain."...

[S]piritual and meditative practices are not meant to erase pain. That's a symptom of our pain-avoidant culture, and not an accurate portrayal of the practices themselves. It's a misuse of so many beautiful teachings to force them into roles they were never meant to play....

"When it comes to our children, we do not have the luxury of despair. If we rise, they will rise with us every time, no matter how many times we've fallen before. I hope you will remember that the next time you fail. I hope I will too. Remembering that is the most important work as parents we can...

"Hopelessness is the enemy of justice." —Bryan Stevenson, in his 2017 Ware Lecture...

All great spirituality is about what we do with our pain... By trying to handle all suffering through willpower, denial, medication, or even therapy, we have forgotten something that should be obvious: we do not handle suffering; suffering handles us in deep and mysterious ways that ironically...

Loneliness does not come from having no people around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to you.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest.

My soul is deprived of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is. Lamentations is a book in the Hebrew (Old) Testaament, written around or after 586 BCE.

Out of the depths I cry: Who will hear my voice? Out of the pain I cry: Who will make space for my living and my dying? Out of the years I cry: Who will remember? Who will remember? My soul awaits: More than those who watch for the morning. More than those who watch for the morning. —inspired by...

Even when the gates of heaven are shut to prayer, they are open to tears.

"The ship struck at ten minutes after four A.M., and all hands, being mostly in their nightclothes, made haste to the forecastle, the water coming in at once. There they remained; the passengers in the forecastle, the crew above it, doing what they could. Every wave lifted the forecastle roof and...