This post especially hit hard today. I thought I was feeling grief, in a sense yes, but it is the nostalgia for the potential and possible, maybe the imagination of the childhood and then, later on the marriage that ended. Took awhile for me to figure the love was always with and is me, but the word Elhare, helps define the reality of my story in my mind and where I can honor that nostalgic feeling and know too there are many more possibilities on a white canvas of the future. And quite possibly experiencing moments better than imagined. Thank you for putting a word to the ache. ✨
Jessica, this is so poignant and beautifully expressed. That shift—from grieving what wasn’t, to honoring the love that was always with you—is profound. I’m moved that elare helped name part of that journey for you. May your canvas ahead be spacious and alive with moments even more radiant than imagined. Thank you for sharing this and for being here.
My parents are still alive and well, yet I, too, feel my spirit reaching toward a better past. I wonder if this is something my children will feel, too. As if our relationship with our parents is, naturally, never perfect, but we are programmed as mammals to have some idea, some vague dream of what might have been a more perfect love.
Scott, this is beautifully said—and yes, I think you're right. There may be something primal in us that senses the shape of the love we longed for, even if we didn’t receive it fully. And perhaps our children will feel some version of elare too… not as indictment, but as inheritance. I really appreciate your reflection—and your presence here.
This is beautiful John and just the word I have been looking for most of my adult life. I will be pondering this more and journaling on it at a later date, but as I read this I felt like I exhaled for the very first time in a long time. Thank you for that my friend.
Mel, your words moved me. The image of that long-held exhale—yes. That’s exactly what I hoped elare might offer: not a solution, just a soft permission. I’m honored it resonated with you. Thank you for receiving it so openly.
This post especially hit hard today. I thought I was feeling grief, in a sense yes, but it is the nostalgia for the potential and possible, maybe the imagination of the childhood and then, later on the marriage that ended. Took awhile for me to figure the love was always with and is me, but the word Elhare, helps define the reality of my story in my mind and where I can honor that nostalgic feeling and know too there are many more possibilities on a white canvas of the future. And quite possibly experiencing moments better than imagined. Thank you for putting a word to the ache. ✨
Jessica, this is so poignant and beautifully expressed. That shift—from grieving what wasn’t, to honoring the love that was always with you—is profound. I’m moved that elare helped name part of that journey for you. May your canvas ahead be spacious and alive with moments even more radiant than imagined. Thank you for sharing this and for being here.
My parents are still alive and well, yet I, too, feel my spirit reaching toward a better past. I wonder if this is something my children will feel, too. As if our relationship with our parents is, naturally, never perfect, but we are programmed as mammals to have some idea, some vague dream of what might have been a more perfect love.
Thanks for sharing your word magic, John.
Scott, this is beautifully said—and yes, I think you're right. There may be something primal in us that senses the shape of the love we longed for, even if we didn’t receive it fully. And perhaps our children will feel some version of elare too… not as indictment, but as inheritance. I really appreciate your reflection—and your presence here.
This is beautiful John and just the word I have been looking for most of my adult life. I will be pondering this more and journaling on it at a later date, but as I read this I felt like I exhaled for the very first time in a long time. Thank you for that my friend.
Mel, your words moved me. The image of that long-held exhale—yes. That’s exactly what I hoped elare might offer: not a solution, just a soft permission. I’m honored it resonated with you. Thank you for receiving it so openly.