Our Minds Are Mysterious; Our Conscious Brain

All Love Stories Are Tales Of Beginnings. When We Talk About Falling In Love, We Go To The Beginning, To Pinpoint The Moment Of Freefall.

We Have An Idea - A Very Modern Idea - That Dying Is Undignified. But I Think This Is Because We Have The Illusion That We Can Control Our Bodies And Our Fates.

This Is Part Of The Complexity Of Grief: A Piece Of You Recognizes It Is An Extreme State, An Altered State, Yet A Large Part Of You Is Entirely Subject To Its Demands.

I Think That Grief Is A Profound Spiritual, Metaphysical, And - Oddly - Physical Reckoning With Death, Which We Don't Understand Well. It's Both The Process By Which You Relearn The World In The Absence Of Someone Who Was A Pillar In It, And The Process In Which You Confront The Reality Of Death.

My Mother Never Liked Mother's Day. She Thought It Was A Fake Holiday Dreamed Up By Hallmark To Commodify Deep Sentiments That Couldn't Be Expressed With A Card.