I’m sitting in the kitchen with my laptop, noshing on homegrown pears as I reflect on the summer of 2022. The highs were exquisite and the lows were pretty damn dark.

If you want me to photoshop this newsletter, it is not going to happen. I promised to keep it real.

I struggle with the concept of fate. In Greek mythology (I loved mythology, why did I stop reading it?) there were three Fates; weaving goddesses who presided over the birth and life of humans. Clotho spun the thread of life, Lachesis measured its allotted length, and Atropos cut it off with her shears.

The imagery is so sensual and mystical, I want to go to the Art Institute yesterday just to see this.

Humans still had free will, but the Fates knew the ultimate choices and actions of each person. In the afterlife, people were not judged on their accomplishments, but on how they reacted to and coped with life’s challenges.

People believe that “things happen for a reason” and that “G-d only gives you as much as you can handle.” We use those words as a self-salve and others use it when they want to offer comfort. It is also a way for people to avoid someone else’s pain.

Being positive is healthy but toxic positivity is taking it to the extreme. Because we don’t want to be known as a “downer,” we pretend everything is great. When others speak in bumper stickers, the natural response is to hide. Underneath the hiding is shame. Brené Brown has been researching shame for decades. She writes that “shame derives its power from being unspeakable.”  What will people think of me if they know I have…

No matter how much I have evolved, I will never find the reason why things happen the way they do.  Every time I think I have things figured out, I find a stray puzzle piece in the corner that I have to somehow fit in somewhere.

I have been praying a lot lately and I’m not even sure I am a believer. Today I prayed all day for my family flying from Australia to the states. Praying is my default, when I cannot find the words to express joy and wonder or when paralyzed with fear. I know the words by heart after decades of reciting them.

Maybe I am a closet believer?