Be thankful for these little frailties, mistakes and woundings that routinely throw you off your path. They remind you of your true nature: you are human and wanting. When you are in pain, worried, weak, disoriented and confused, slow down and pay attention. These are your entrance into what you really need: an experience of God in God’s tenderest form. Your little weaknesses are also what keep you tender and vulnerable. That is the best thing that can happen to you.

These little setbacks and frailties are your invitation into unknowing. It is hard to be too sure of yourself or even what you believe when you are wounded and in need. At those points, you are at the mercy of others and the universe. Seek comfort. Say you’re sorry. Take medicine. Be kind to yourself and say I don’t know.

You will grieve the losses – what you thought you were and what you thought your life was about. When you are grieving, just grieve – and then let go. Sometimes, grief will come like a powerful wave that crashes down on you and drags you out to sea. And sometimes it will lap up on your shore in steady, scantly doses, always reminding you it is a requisite part of existence. Once grief has found its way to you, it never fully leaves. It just slowly erodes your shore, shaping you all the time.

Let grief do its work on you. It is forming you into the most seasoned, effective and accessible version of yourself – one who knows the deaths you experience are just the other side of life. This creates a softness that can welcome in the tide. This is important and key for wisdom.