How Life (Sometimes)Goes

Happiness is being on the beam with life—to feel the pull of life.
—Agnes Martin, 1989

In my 45 + years of work as a psychotherapist, I have become fond of the humble tissue box. I notice the myriad ways the tissues twist and turn, or poke up barely making their presence known. Perhaps they drip or drape over, or flow out of the box offering generosity and care.

We live constantly in beauty, as well as grief. None of us get through unscathed. We need our handkerchiefs, our tissues, sometimes our sleeves, as much as we need our laughter and our play.