I see you Jay! I read each word with my whole heart. What a difficult season of life for you. And I do not wish to diminish your pain and struggle. This is real and you deserve to feel it all and have it all heard. But it also sounds like you are waking up and seeing how you haven’t been there for yourself. This is so fucking painful to see, as often it takes a disaster for the seeing to come. Don’t lose sight of this seeing. This season will not last forever. Brighter days will come. Believe this, even against all belief. You are so loved. And I’m so glad you shared your story here. ❤️🙏🏻❤️
Your words land like a lifeline, grounding me in this whirlwind of grief, change, and profound realization. You’ve captured something so painfully true—this awakening to how I haven’t been there for myself unfolds even more. I am standing in the aftermath of a storm, surrounded by wreckage, and finally seeing the whole neglected foundation beneath it all.
It is excruciating, yes, but also strangely liberating. Your encouragement to hold onto this seeing, even as everything is still uncertain, is a gift I deeply cherish. I needed to hear this, to believe that brighter days will follow, even when belief is only partly accessible.
Thank you for reading my story with your whole heart and reflecting back such kindness and clarity. Your support, Lila, is a light in this dark season. I feel seen, loved, and so grateful for this connection.
Wow! Jay! And the words in your reply nourish me so much. When someone truly sees me, I can’t help but shed tears.
In the name of transparency, I too am standing amidst the wreckage of parts of an unlived life and seeing the unconscious patterns come into the light.
It might not feel like it, but we are not being hurt…we are being helped and I’m so glad we have each other to lend tender hearing to, along with fierce pointing.
Your openness moves me deeply, and I’m honored that my words could nourish you as much as yours have grounded me.
Your transparency about standing amidst your own wreckage and bringing unconscious patterns into the light is so powerful. It reminds me that in this shared vulnerability, we find not just solace but strength. To know that we are not alone in these hard truths—that we are somehow being helped rather than hurt—is a perspective I am learning to embrace, moment by moment.
Thank you for your fierce pointing and tender hearing, for holding this space with me and reminding me to NOTICE, LOVE, and REMEMBER.
And remember, when a moment feels overwhelming, remember PAST:
Pause: Create space to breathe and step out of reactivity.
Acknowledge: Name what you’re feeling or experiencing without judgment.
Soften: Gently bring kindness and ease to the moment, connect with your body.
Tend: Care for yourself with a supportive, nurturing action.
Jay! Every exchange gets richer and richer. I loved what you shared above. About 2 years ago I noticed my system began to throw off the traditional concepts of divinity and I felt an extremely strong pull in my Heart for connection with the Earth. I longed for years for the earth to be animated in my body. And the belonging is being born here. I am so happy about this. Grounded. Here in my body, belonging to Nature, being Nature. Indescribable. I am so happy that you see me where I am. I lost connection with some close friends along the way they believed I had somehow gotten off the path. I’ve never felt more on the path, my path than now. I don’t know where it’s going…and I don’t need to. I am held. I am safe. I belong here…
Dear Lila, Your words continue to deepen this exchange in such meaningful ways. I truly admire the clarity and groundedness you’ve found in connecting with the Earth and embracing your path, even when others might not understand it. There’s something so powerful in staying true to yourself, even when it challenges the expectations of those around you. Belonging to Nature, being Nature—it’s such a profound realization. That sense of being held and safe without needing to know exactly where the path leads resonates deeply with me. It’s a reminder that alignment with our own truth often is far more “on the path” than anything external ever could. It is our inner compass and our conscience, the inner truth of who we are. Thank you for sharing this journey and for seeing me as I am. I value this space where we can reflect, connect, and explore together. I’m grateful for the richness of this exchange and look forward to where it takes us next.
With appreciation and care, you are deeply appreciated Love to you Jay ❤️
Gosh! Jay! The richness of your reply. Just YUMMY! Allowing it to wash through me. I’m speechless in seeing such beauty being born from such wreckage. Proves that we are never ever abandoned, no matter how things appear…The ever present Divine Mother never leaves Her child. Only “in Her wisdom” hides her face from time to time.
Your words resonate deeply, echoing what has become a quiet truth in my life: even the crumbling, the wreckage, holds its own purpose. Like trauma itself, the rising from ashes—again and again—has woven itself into the fabric of my existence, not as a wish, but as a lived knowing. Six times now, I have walked through the fire, and each time, I’ve come to understand that what comes will also pass.
Tara Brach’s words ring true here: “This too belongs” and “This too will pass.” Both are reminders that even in the hardest moments, there is something of value, something fleeting yet essential.
And so, we NOTICE the wreckage, LOVE the broken pieces, and REMEMBER that no storm lasts forever. In the space between destruction and renewal, we are somehow held. This is a truth I have already experienced more times than I cared to.
Thank you for walking this path alongside me, for seeing me and allowing me to see you in return. Together, we are proving that even the hardest seasons hold a quiet, transformative grace.
Forgive me, when I am not relating as much to the Divine Mother in my response. After surviving a toxic abusive relationship with my mother and my father each of their own, my references tend to not tie to family. Thank you for your understanding. I agree with the contents.
Jay, that makes perfect sense to me re: Divine Mother. I feel the same around the term God, the Father, and really almost all religious and “too” spiritual words. I’m too easily taken out of my body, and I think that’s why I’ve fallen deeply in love with the Earth. She’s my muse and greatest teacher. 🌳
Thank you for your understanding and for sharing that with me. Your connection to the Earth as your muse and teacher resonates deeply with me. It's a grounding force that transcends labels and titles, one that offers a quiet yet powerful reminder that we are always held, no matter how much we may struggle to find ourselves in the traditional concepts of divinity. The Earth speaks in ways words sometimes fail to, and I too find comfort in her embrace.
As we continue to walk alongside one another, I hope we can both continue to find spaces where we feel whole and safe, where the language of healing is one that comes from within, unburdened by the expectations or histories of others.
Thank you for witnessing me, and for offering your reflections with such honesty. I'm grateful for this exchange and the grounding we both seem to be seeking in our own ways.
Ohh Jay, i have just watched your video. You are a treasure to our beloved community. Your words, your presence is important to us. I am so sorry to know that you are in so much pain right now and that you have to endure new hardships. I am sending you lots of love and light ✨I don’t know how life works, but i often experience magics happening after disasters happened in my life. Keep the mystery alive in your life, my friend!
Lise, thank you so much for your kind and heartfelt words. It means so much to hear that my presence here matters, especially in a moment when everything feels so heavy.
I resonate deeply with what you said about magic often following disaster. This feels like one of those moments—a time when everything is being stripped away, perhaps to make space for something new. I’m holding onto that sense of mystery, trusting that even in the midst of this chaos, something transformative might emerge.
My dear Jay, I'm so sorry it took me a whole day to get to this post. I watched the video, and my heart ached for you, for the pain that you're in. I read a bunch of the comments, and resonated so deeply with the reference to Mark Nepo. The sense that I get is that you are making such deep connections here, and I'm so grateful to be one of your new friends. We are here, excuse me, I am here for you, to talk, to listen, to hand you a virtual handkerchief when your tears flow. I see your tears. I see your pain. I feel it and I know something. What I know is that you are a gentle warrior. You said it yourself. You've given up. You are on the threshold of a new life, a new beginning, though it may be hard to see or feel with all of you. Keep doing what you're doing, being your amazing, vulnerable, honest, eloquent, wise self. Sending you the biggest hug I have. Let me know if you want to talk. I'm around.
Your words wrap around me with such care and understanding, offering a depth of connection I deeply value. Thank you for watching the video and taking the time to share this thoughtful and compassionate message.
Mark Nepo’s wisdom resonates so profoundly—the notion of laying down what we’ve carried to move into something new is guiding me through this challenging transition. Your recognition of this threshold, this space where endings and beginnings intersect, offers reassurance as I navigate what’s next.
To be called a “gentle warrior” by you is both humbling and affirming. Thank you for truly seeing me, for holding space, and for offering such steadfast support. Knowing that someone is here, willing to listen and share the weight of this moment, strengthens me in ways words can’t fully capture.
I’m sending gratitude and warmth to you, Nan. Your kindness shines as a beacon, reminding me that connection like this is what sustains us.
Dear Jay, I just watched your video, I hope you know how much you mean to this wonderful community. You are simply one of the most supportive, most articulate and wise voices here. You care about us, support us and we care about you too. I’m deeply sorry things are so difficult. At the worst time of my life I didn’t see any hope or way forward, but sometimes when we least expect it,and most need it, there’s an opening, things shift, and you see one tiny positive that you can hang on to and build on. You are not alone Jay, I love you and so do many others. I’m so glad you reached out, you should be proud of the courage and tenacity you possess. Hang in there, and keep doing what helps you, like writing and connecting. You have a lot of people who care for you. Take good care of yourself and Monty. 🩵
Your words touched me deeply. Thank you for taking the time to watch my video and to reflect so kindly on what I’ve shared.
Hearing that my presence here is meaningful and that I’m part of this incredible community of care gives me strength in a way I can’t quite express.
In reflecting about the video, I found myself having share something extraordinary—the first-ever expression of the 100% true self Jay in my 56.4 years of life. This realization is profound.
For so long, I thought such authenticity was out of reach, buried under years of toxic shame and giving everything I had to others, of being consumed by expectations, and of losing myself in the process. Now, life has brought me to a doorstep littered with the remains of a life that once was, a consequence of having sold my soul to please, to perform, to belong.
But here’s the truth: what those remains reveal is the true, freed Jay.
Only a year ago, I could barely grasp 2% of this self. Then my 2024 intentions—healing, authenticity, and expression—began their work. This year’s intentions of healing, connection, and authorship are already bearing fruit in ways I never imagined.
What is unfolding now is not just the grief, loss, and upheaval of the life I once knew but also an extraordinary wave of kindness, compassion, and emotional support. Ripples of connection have reached me, weaving themselves around me in a way that feels like a warm embrace I had long given up on finding.
Monty and I are hanging in there, and knowing I have people like you in my corner makes all the difference. I will keep writing, keep connecting, and keep holding onto this community that has already given me so much hope.
Thank you for your love, care, and unwavering kindness. It means more than I can say.
I watched your video and want you to know that you’re valued in this community. Your words have provided healing in my life transitions. I have often felt that when seeking authentic healing, life sometimes brings the most challenging circumstances. In those moments life seems overwhelming and impossible, but forces you to rise up and make the necessary changes for genuine healing to take place. It isn’t until after going through those difficult times, that it becomes apparent those circumstances were needed.
I want to remind you of your own beautiful words that helped me:
…Let me be clear, Sweetie: positivity doesn’t mean bypassing the dark parts of your canyon.
It means finding strength in walking through them, allowing the shadows to teach you about the layers of your own heart. You don’t have to choose between truth and light—they exist together, always. One makes the other possible.
And when you stumble, when positivity feels out of reach?
Know this: your worth does not depend on your ability to see the bright side.
You are no less worthy in your sorrow than in your joy. You are loved equally in every shade of yourself.
Positivity is not the avoidance of reality—it’s the quiet rebellion of choosing to believe in beauty anyway. It’s the acknowledgment that life, even in its harshest moments, carries the possibility of growth, connection, and grace…
Lisa, your words have touched me deeply, and I am in awe of this moment—having my own words come back to me when I needed them most. Thank you for seeing me and for reminding me of the truths I have spoken before but momentarily forgot in the midst of this storm.
Today has been one of those overwhelming moments, where everything feels impossible to hold. And yet, the connection, kindness, and reflections like yours have given me the strength to sit with it all—the grief, the loss, the sorrow, even the anger and powerlessness.
Your reminder of my own words is a gift I didn’t know I needed: “You are no less worthy in your sorrow than in your joy.”
I am holding those words close as I navigate this unfolding messiness. And I realize now, through this community and through your generosity, that I truly can walk through the shadows, let them teach me, and still find strength in the light.
Thank you for being here, for holding space, and for showing me what authentic connection and compassion make possible. Sending love and gratitude right back to you. ♥️
Oh Jay, I see your profound pain and disorientation. My heart breaks with yours. Let us help you carry this. I know it's not the same as if we could sit with you on that couch, holding your hand and making you soup, but we can still hold you, friend. This is so heavy, and I'm so incredibly proud of you for showing up with courage and authenticity. It's clear to me how incredibly, inherently loveable you are, even and especially in your "rock bottom ". May you find peace beyond understanding, friend. We're here and we're not going anywhere. 🤍💙
Kendall, your words are a warm hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a warm blanket on a dark cold winter night (quite true). Thank you for seeing me, for offering to help carry this weight, even from a distance. The image of sitting together, sharing soup, and holding hands brought tears to my eyes—it’s the kind of care that feels like home, even in its imagined form.
This is heavy, yes, but knowing that you and others here are holding space for me is helping immensely. This was long in the making, and I think today, I knew it was the risk I was willing to take when I stepped down a year ago. It was not if, rather when. Your reminder of inherent lovability, even in the midst of what feels like “rock bottom,” is one I’ll carry with me. It’s astonishing how connection, even virtual, can anchor us when everything feels unsteady. Thank you for your kindness, your encouragement, and for staying. It means more than words can express.
You've got me all teared up now! You truly are the best, and not because of what you give or how much you do, just because of how the light shines through you. ✨️
Liebe Jay, thank you for your opennness. Es tut mir sehr leid, dass Du gerade eine schwere Zeit durchmachst. Trotz des Schmerzes sehe ich aber auch Deinen Mut, Deine Kraft und Deine Hoffnung.
On January 1st, I read a passage in Marc Nepo’s The Book of Awakening that reminded me of something important. He described a man trying to open a door without putting down the things he was carrying. The man struggled until he lost his grip, stumbled backward, and fell. Reflecting on this, Marc Nepo wrote: “We [often] refuse to put down what we carry in order to open the door. Time and time again, we are offered the chance to truly learn this: We cannot hold on to things and enter. We must put down what we carry, open the door, and then take up only what we need to bring inside.”
Dear Jay, what if the insolvency of the company is meant to give you freedom? What if it’s liberating you for something new? I don’t mean to sound overly optimistic, but I trust that you will find your way—and that this challenging time will support the healing journey you’ve mentioned.
You spoke about the journey of the phoenix, and I wholeheartedly believe that, like the phoenix, you too will rise from the ashes. I believe in you, dear Jay.
Some time ago, I’ve written a poem about the phoenix rising from the ashes. I’m sharing it with you here in case it brings you some encouragement: https://rosejah.substack.com/p/you-the-phoenix.
Viele liebe Grüße, und lass Dich nicht unterkriegen!
Liebe Rose, ganz herzlichen Dank für deine lieben Worte und dein Mitgefühl. I cannot express enough gratitude for the compassion, encouragement, and insight you’ve shared. To feel seen in this way, particularly by a fellow creative voice with ties to Germany, is a gift I didn’t expect but treasure immensely.
The Marc Nepo quote you referenced resonated a lot. The universe conspiring to remind me of a truth I’ve been circling for years: to walk through a door into something new, I must first lay down what I’ve been carrying. Yesterday, I unknowingly did just that. In allowing my most authentic self to emerge fully for the first time in over 46 years, I also put down the heavy backpack that others had loaded onto me—stones of their expectations, missed dreams, the toxic shame and burdens I had no obligation to bear. It’s liberating, though it comes with grief for the life I’m leaving behind.
Danke, dass Du dein wundervolles Gedicht mit mir geteilt hast. Du hast eine wunderschöne Stimme. Your poem about the phoenix rising from the ashes brought tears to my eyes. I had been there six times in my life before. You obviously have been there as well. It was written for this exact moment in my life. Seeing myself mirrored in your words—a being rising anew from the ashes—is profoundly affirming and empowering.
The number 7 has always held meaning for me, symbolizing completion, introspection, and transformation. Realizing that this moment represents stepping into my seventh life is the culmination of everything that came before. They say it is associated with intuition, inner wisdom, and spiritual awakening. Many see it as a bridge between the material and the spiritual worlds. So it indeed is a closing of one chapter and the opening of a new one, full of possibility and hope.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem. I have just subscribed to you and I’m so looking forward to exploring more of your work and deepening this connection. Whether you’re living in Germany or exploring the world, I’m grateful our paths have crossed.
With all my gratitude and warmth, I see the light in you. 🙏
Oh, Jay, I am so sorry to hear that you are going through such a challenging time. It’s hard to find our sense of Self has gone. To awaken to the realization that you’ve been living for others, and less for yourself. I lived most of my life for others, too, to the point I felt I’d fractured my Self, to be who they wanted me to be. I struggled to find my Self buried underneath the rubble. But, my voice grew stronger the more I listened to it, and I see your voice and spirit are strong despite everything. Yes, there’s hardship, but there’s the opportunity for rebirth, as well. And rise, you have! And there’s so much compassion and determination in you. I wish you much peace & brighter days! I’m rooting for you!
Marisa, thank you for sitting with what I had written. The shape of the situation remains the same—yes, I am still in the process of losing everything I once carried. The debts remain. The house will go. That is all true.
And within that, something shifted. I am no longer bound in the way I was. No fracture needed healing. No voice needed to be unearthed. I was always here. Now I live from that place.
It is not about rising, for me. It is about standing clear in what is mine to carry—and what no longer is. I walk through this without pretending it is less or more than what it is.
Thank you for rooting for me. Thank you for your kindness and wishes. I carry them close.
Jay, you have been through so much. I am in awe of your strength and resilience to take all of this, even as it has broken you, and turn it into community that nourishes and uplifts and strengthens others. This truly is the bodhisattva path. It is so beautiful to see how this space has become a home, has surrounded you with love, affirmation, and support. I am so glad you are here. 💚
WilM, I appreciate your kind words and the care behind them. Strength and resilience have certainly been part of this journey. This space has grown into a community that nourishes and uplifts, and I’m grateful for that. It’s a path of honesty and presence, and I’m glad to share it with others who walk alongside me.
Jay, I have not read other comments, do anything I share now is truly my reaction to your very brave and touching sharing, your reaching out by video to unknown viewers, which today includes me. I am much older than you are, and I consider myself to be reflective and a person who appreciates good souls, a category fitting for you because your goodness comes through in your video and in the various videos and messages I know you have shared online since making this tape which I just found.
My first impressions:
I am so sorry for your pain and your losses, first of all. Your loving spirit shows in the experiences you have related by telling your story. You trusted, and you have acted from the heart throughout your life as it appears to me. My suggestions, which I will share below in a moment, might seem silly to you, but please know that I am sharing with the best of intentions. Here they are.
I see gold in your soul, gold of trust, gold of always trying to do your best to help people, especially the people you care about. I also understand loss. My first suggestion to you, is that, if you have a window with sunlight coming in, that you get a little soil to put in whatever you have as a planter, and plant some marigold seeds. I’m saying this for several reasons. As a quotation goes, “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”
Marigold seeds are easy to grow, just do not get mule marigolds because they will not reproduce. It is easy to save seeds from your marigolds once a blossom has dried, so even though they are annuals, with receding replanting, they can be prolific. I think you would enjoy the reds, yellows, and golds, depending on which kind you get. They do come in various sizes. As for reasons, I believe that you will feel good growing something and having life around you. I’m thankful for you to have a cat, but I have not looked to see if it’s safe to have miracles around cats. Please check that out first. I do know the cats love flowers, although miracles do not have a fragrance smell. I think that’s a gold would be like having sunshine added to your life. If you end up with extra seats, you would even have something to share with people near you. And the gold color can be a reminder that there is gold in your soul, the goodness in you, and that most people, fortunately, have golden goodness somewhere in their souls. Miracles do require full sunshine, and I think being in the sunshine would help you feel better.
Your talents of articulate descriptions, wisdom, music, art, sharing and caring about people, are obvious. You share repeatedly through the videos and messages you share with people you don’t even know. You have a cat to nurture, and I think that is wonderful! By your caring advice and your sharing of history, you reach out to people around the world.
I never thought about marigolds is that as you look at the intricacies of their blooms, you can see that they have depth in their formation, sort of like many pathways of the brain, a reminder that there can be many avenues of thought, various ways to to appreciate life. The intricacies might suggest that life can be enriched by expanding interests. I believe you have plenty of interest, and I know that you reach out in various ways of thought as you even think about other countries. I wonder if you might find it interesting to explore various types of music and various types of art. Maybe that’s a lot to read into a marigold blossom, but that’s a thought that comes to me now.
Marigolds are supposed to thrive better than some other flowers if there are dry conditions. That reminds me of another saying from somewhere. “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Marigolds and the saying remind me of the strength I see in you, your creativity, you’re finding of avenues to go forward, or as the American poet, Gwendolyn Brooks has written and said, “When you’re handed a lemon, make lemonade.” By the wonderful ways that you share positivity and encouragement in your recordings, I believe you are making lemonade! That is another golden example of your character, your perseverance, and a golden aspect of the goodness in you.
Jay, you put so much thought into all that you do according to the uplifting ways you have shared in your messages I have seen in line. It is so admirable, and I believe you have Coke a long way. You believe in people, and it makes you a kind and wonderful gift to much of the world. Your creativity is much appreciated. Keeping up is not easy for all of us, but when I do see and hear what you have shared, I recognize the beauty and the intended thought and encouragement you give the listeners or the readers, or the viewers! Thank you for being a caring person.
With your creativity, your rich feelings of goodness, and your strong sense of what is right in this world, I hope you will continue to write, to share, to create, and to be you. I also hope that in time, life will be much easier for you. Everyone who has lost someone can still carry that love and the encouragement for the past always in their hearts. I believe that the goodness of souls is never dead, and the goodness of the people who have loved and nurtured us in the best ways they knew how, lives on within us for us to draw upon whenever we need them. They also know, from the other side, that life goes on, and they never stop caring. Even if they disagreed with us on something, I’m sure they want the best for us and they see the goodness in us, whether they expressed it at all or often in their lifetimes or not. The world is a better place because of you and your goodness that you are so good to share, so Jay, please keep on sharing with the world, as you do, and being yourself. Possibly you would want to write some books, whether for children or adult adults. Or maybe you want to do something with your art or your music. Please let your choice shine, and as you do, time will pass, and I hope the times will get better for you. I wish goodness for the world, kindness to be felt in people’s lives, and for the goodness and everyone to be appreciated. I do not have answers for everything you might need or do you need, but I do see these good things that are you. You are so kind and all that you do to help make lives better for other people. I’m sure you are appreciated in many places.
(Since I have written quite a bit, it is not possible to see earlier text to proofread. I hope the writing says what I intended and that’s the phone has not made changes without my permission, as it sometimes does.)
Reading your message was like sitting by a window with warm sunlight pouring in—quiet, generous, and unexpectedly full of grace. I felt seen in your words, and more than that, I felt held. Thank you for that. Your idea of planting marigolds touched me deeply. Not just for the symbolism—though the gold as a reminder of the gold in my soul is a kindness I won’t forget—but for the invitation. To nurture life, to make space for beauty even in a season of grief, is an act of quiet courage. You offered it so gently, and yet it feels like a profound gesture of trust: that life can bloom again, even from the barest patch of earth.
There is something deeply affirming in your faith—not just in me, but in people, in the enduring thread of love that runs through time, even past loss. Your words about those we’ve loved staying with us, wanting the best for us, echo a hope I sometimes forget to hold onto. You reminded me that their presence doesn’t end—it transforms. It becomes part of the soil we grow from. You said you hadn’t read other comments, and somehow that makes your reflection all the more sacred—unfiltered, raw, sincere. You wrote from the heart, and I felt it in mine. And yes, maybe one day there will be books. Maybe music. Maybe just more quiet moments of truth shared with people like you. For now, I will carry your words with me like seeds—golden, waiting, full of promise.With warmth and gratitude that’s hard to put into words,
Jay, I am thankful to know that my words and thoughts are uplifting to you, and I realize that none of us is uplifted instantly, that time is involved, and knowing that a lot of people care. Once again, your own words carry such beauty! I believe you are rising, not like the sun rises daily and goes down again at night, but more like the sunshine of longer days of Spring with great promise of still longer days and restful nights, giving us meaning and promise, as well as new memories of freshness, a freshness of nature to hold onto, and with it comes the lasting freshness that goes into making the renewed self happy again, happy over the small joys and miracles of life, whether they are of the sunshine coming sgsin, blooms or fragrant petals saved for a sache, the living pur and silky fur of a living cat, or the softness of a favorite blanket to nestle into while counting blessings of the day and a hope or two for tomorrow, recalling things that make us smile, and the gift of life itself, as it evolves into something new and better in ways we never expected, another happy surprise of nature, a plan we had not thought to make for our own selves, just a culmination
of passings and arrivals that work together to make each individual, including yourself, a miracle of life, a happy again and contented miracle, even though the whole picture is hard for an individual to fully imagine along the way. We grow, day by day, and with gratitude. For each moment, this is now, and it is a building block of who we each will be, the treasured moments and evolving we will have to reflect on and marvel at in the future.
Your words feel like sunlight gently touching the edges of a long winter. Thank you for reminding me that growth can be quiet, that healing can look like softness, like presence, like planting beauty even in uncertain soil.
I’m holding your reflections close—the marigolds, the long light of spring, the way life surprises us with new beginnings. Your kindness is a gift, and I’m deeply grateful.
I also see you, Jay. I came across your voice this past week and I thank you for putting your story out there. I am on the cusp of losing everything at this very moment and I inspired by your indomitable will. You are a light in the darkness. Much love to you!
Being on the cusp of losing everything is a place I know too well. It’s raw, destabilizing, and yet somehow clarifying. It strips away all the noise until only the truth remains: you are still here.
That matters. That’s the seed of beginning again, even when it feels impossible.
If anything I’ve shared offered you a moment of grounding, or reminded you of your own strength, then I’m deeply grateful. Because I don’t write from a distance—I write from within the wreckage, and the rebuilding.
You're not alone in this, Beth. Keep holding on. There’s something waiting on the other side of collapse—and it has you in it.
Oh my Jay, my heart breaks for you to have gone through so much. You are such an inspiration for so many of us and your generosity of heart with others has always been so powerful for me to read in your past posts. I hope you are finding your way to applying that same love towards your beautiful soul that despite your pain in this video, still glows for all of us to see and feel. I hope you feel it too and we mirror it right back to you. I am so thrilled that a path forward has appeared for you today, and I look forward to being part of your journey very soon. Big hugs and love.
I'm just listening to this now, what a hard journey you've been on, Jay. What hard work you've done. What a painful burden you've had to bear. You are very much appreciated here on Substack, your expression and ability to hear people is tireless, authentic and so generous. I'm tuning into your story now. I'm listening. I feel a tipping point of the longed for light.
thank you. That landed gently. I read your words slowly, more than once, letting them reach the parts of me that still brace for dismissal or silence. That you’re tuning in now—not just to the story, but to the long road beneath it—means something I can’t quite name yet.
I’ve carried a lot, yes. And what’s shifted lately isn’t just the weight but the way I carry it. Less like endurance, more like honesty. Your presence here, listening without rushing to fix or frame, is part of that shift.
If there is a tipping point toward light, I’m learning to stand still long enough to feel it—not as a final arrival, but as a quieter permission.
Yes, Kristi I can feel the support of this community and it has sustained me in more ways I can tell. It has contributed in many ways to me being able to move through these times with an outlook and hope.
Dear Jay, Ich kann mich nur den vielen, wunderbaren Kommentaren und Worten anschliessen. I admire you for being so brave to share this difficult story and point in your life. And I love to see this great community here embracing you and trying to send you love, courage, mental support, and heartfelt words. Some days ago, I was reading something about how terrible situations can either break us or break us open. I can see in your courage and willingness to move on that you broke open, ready to start living YOUR life according to YOUR inner callings, dreams, and rhythms. Go for it. Nothing can stop you from rising from the bottom.
Ich nehme deine Worte mit Dankbarkeit an. Es ist kein leichter Weg, doch er ist meiner, und das zählt. Das Bild vom „breaking open“ trifft einen wahren Kern – manchmal geht es nicht darum, sich gegen den Bruch zu wehren, sondern darum, zu sehen, was daraus wachsen kann.
Ich schätze deine Wertschätzung und deine Gedanken sehr. Danke, dass du hier bist.
You are not alone, Jay! The unraveling happening right now is deep and affecting so many of us. I'm going through something very similar right now that has put my whole livelihood at risk. Yet, there's a profound knowing that this is part of the process of letting go that I've been praying for. I wished it came with more ease, but learning to accept how it's manifested and witnessing all the wounds that are seeing the light for me to finally witness and tend to them.
What a blessing that you're finding solace in this community. It's your words and loving presence that have brought us to you. That will only continue to grow, and I know it will bring so many unexpected blessings into your life.
Ana, I hear you. That deep unraveling, the one that shakes everything we thought was solid—it’s a lot. And yet, there’s this undercurrent of knowing, of something shifting toward truth. I won’t pretend it’s easy. Letting go rarely is, especially when it threatens the very structures that held us upright for so long.
I see you tending to those wounds, witnessing what was once hidden. That alone is powerful. And yes, finding this community, this space where we can exist as we are, has been a gift. Your presence here matters too, Ana. We’re walking this path alongside each other, even when the way forward feels unclear.
I see you Jay! I read each word with my whole heart. What a difficult season of life for you. And I do not wish to diminish your pain and struggle. This is real and you deserve to feel it all and have it all heard. But it also sounds like you are waking up and seeing how you haven’t been there for yourself. This is so fucking painful to see, as often it takes a disaster for the seeing to come. Don’t lose sight of this seeing. This season will not last forever. Brighter days will come. Believe this, even against all belief. You are so loved. And I’m so glad you shared your story here. ❤️🙏🏻❤️
Lila,
Your words land like a lifeline, grounding me in this whirlwind of grief, change, and profound realization. You’ve captured something so painfully true—this awakening to how I haven’t been there for myself unfolds even more. I am standing in the aftermath of a storm, surrounded by wreckage, and finally seeing the whole neglected foundation beneath it all.
It is excruciating, yes, but also strangely liberating. Your encouragement to hold onto this seeing, even as everything is still uncertain, is a gift I deeply cherish. I needed to hear this, to believe that brighter days will follow, even when belief is only partly accessible.
Thank you for reading my story with your whole heart and reflecting back such kindness and clarity. Your support, Lila, is a light in this dark season. I feel seen, loved, and so grateful for this connection.
I See the light in you. 🙏
With love,
Jay xo
Wow! Jay! And the words in your reply nourish me so much. When someone truly sees me, I can’t help but shed tears.
In the name of transparency, I too am standing amidst the wreckage of parts of an unlived life and seeing the unconscious patterns come into the light.
It might not feel like it, but we are not being hurt…we are being helped and I’m so glad we have each other to lend tender hearing to, along with fierce pointing.
NOTICE
LOVE
REMEMBER
Much love to you,
Lila
Dear Lila,
Your openness moves me deeply, and I’m honored that my words could nourish you as much as yours have grounded me.
Your transparency about standing amidst your own wreckage and bringing unconscious patterns into the light is so powerful. It reminds me that in this shared vulnerability, we find not just solace but strength. To know that we are not alone in these hard truths—that we are somehow being helped rather than hurt—is a perspective I am learning to embrace, moment by moment.
Thank you for your fierce pointing and tender hearing, for holding this space with me and reminding me to NOTICE, LOVE, and REMEMBER.
And remember, when a moment feels overwhelming, remember PAST:
Pause: Create space to breathe and step out of reactivity.
Acknowledge: Name what you’re feeling or experiencing without judgment.
Soften: Gently bring kindness and ease to the moment, connect with your body.
Tend: Care for yourself with a supportive, nurturing action.
Then the moment has passed.
Much love and gratitude,
Jay ❤️
Jay! Every exchange gets richer and richer. I loved what you shared above. About 2 years ago I noticed my system began to throw off the traditional concepts of divinity and I felt an extremely strong pull in my Heart for connection with the Earth. I longed for years for the earth to be animated in my body. And the belonging is being born here. I am so happy about this. Grounded. Here in my body, belonging to Nature, being Nature. Indescribable. I am so happy that you see me where I am. I lost connection with some close friends along the way they believed I had somehow gotten off the path. I’ve never felt more on the path, my path than now. I don’t know where it’s going…and I don’t need to. I am held. I am safe. I belong here…
Thank you with all of my heart, Jay! ❤️
Dear Lila, Your words continue to deepen this exchange in such meaningful ways. I truly admire the clarity and groundedness you’ve found in connecting with the Earth and embracing your path, even when others might not understand it. There’s something so powerful in staying true to yourself, even when it challenges the expectations of those around you. Belonging to Nature, being Nature—it’s such a profound realization. That sense of being held and safe without needing to know exactly where the path leads resonates deeply with me. It’s a reminder that alignment with our own truth often is far more “on the path” than anything external ever could. It is our inner compass and our conscience, the inner truth of who we are. Thank you for sharing this journey and for seeing me as I am. I value this space where we can reflect, connect, and explore together. I’m grateful for the richness of this exchange and look forward to where it takes us next.
With appreciation and care, you are deeply appreciated Love to you Jay ❤️
This thread is precious, Jay! 🙏🏻❤️
I’m curious how you came about the name of your stack? What’s the back story?
Gosh! Jay! The richness of your reply. Just YUMMY! Allowing it to wash through me. I’m speechless in seeing such beauty being born from such wreckage. Proves that we are never ever abandoned, no matter how things appear…The ever present Divine Mother never leaves Her child. Only “in Her wisdom” hides her face from time to time.
❤️❤️
Dear Lila,
Your words resonate deeply, echoing what has become a quiet truth in my life: even the crumbling, the wreckage, holds its own purpose. Like trauma itself, the rising from ashes—again and again—has woven itself into the fabric of my existence, not as a wish, but as a lived knowing. Six times now, I have walked through the fire, and each time, I’ve come to understand that what comes will also pass.
Tara Brach’s words ring true here: “This too belongs” and “This too will pass.” Both are reminders that even in the hardest moments, there is something of value, something fleeting yet essential.
And so, we NOTICE the wreckage, LOVE the broken pieces, and REMEMBER that no storm lasts forever. In the space between destruction and renewal, we are somehow held. This is a truth I have already experienced more times than I cared to.
Thank you for walking this path alongside me, for seeing me and allowing me to see you in return. Together, we are proving that even the hardest seasons hold a quiet, transformative grace.
Forgive me, when I am not relating as much to the Divine Mother in my response. After surviving a toxic abusive relationship with my mother and my father each of their own, my references tend to not tie to family. Thank you for your understanding. I agree with the contents.
With gratitude and love,
Jay ❤️
Jay, that makes perfect sense to me re: Divine Mother. I feel the same around the term God, the Father, and really almost all religious and “too” spiritual words. I’m too easily taken out of my body, and I think that’s why I’ve fallen deeply in love with the Earth. She’s my muse and greatest teacher. 🌳
Dear Lila,
Thank you for your understanding and for sharing that with me. Your connection to the Earth as your muse and teacher resonates deeply with me. It's a grounding force that transcends labels and titles, one that offers a quiet yet powerful reminder that we are always held, no matter how much we may struggle to find ourselves in the traditional concepts of divinity. The Earth speaks in ways words sometimes fail to, and I too find comfort in her embrace.
As we continue to walk alongside one another, I hope we can both continue to find spaces where we feel whole and safe, where the language of healing is one that comes from within, unburdened by the expectations or histories of others.
Thank you for witnessing me, and for offering your reflections with such honesty. I'm grateful for this exchange and the grounding we both seem to be seeking in our own ways.
With gratitude and love,
Jay ❤️
Ohh Jay, i have just watched your video. You are a treasure to our beloved community. Your words, your presence is important to us. I am so sorry to know that you are in so much pain right now and that you have to endure new hardships. I am sending you lots of love and light ✨I don’t know how life works, but i often experience magics happening after disasters happened in my life. Keep the mystery alive in your life, my friend!
Lise, thank you so much for your kind and heartfelt words. It means so much to hear that my presence here matters, especially in a moment when everything feels so heavy.
I resonate deeply with what you said about magic often following disaster. This feels like one of those moments—a time when everything is being stripped away, perhaps to make space for something new. I’m holding onto that sense of mystery, trusting that even in the midst of this chaos, something transformative might emerge.
Sending love and gratitude your way, my friend. ✨
My dear Jay, I'm so sorry it took me a whole day to get to this post. I watched the video, and my heart ached for you, for the pain that you're in. I read a bunch of the comments, and resonated so deeply with the reference to Mark Nepo. The sense that I get is that you are making such deep connections here, and I'm so grateful to be one of your new friends. We are here, excuse me, I am here for you, to talk, to listen, to hand you a virtual handkerchief when your tears flow. I see your tears. I see your pain. I feel it and I know something. What I know is that you are a gentle warrior. You said it yourself. You've given up. You are on the threshold of a new life, a new beginning, though it may be hard to see or feel with all of you. Keep doing what you're doing, being your amazing, vulnerable, honest, eloquent, wise self. Sending you the biggest hug I have. Let me know if you want to talk. I'm around.
Nan,
Your words wrap around me with such care and understanding, offering a depth of connection I deeply value. Thank you for watching the video and taking the time to share this thoughtful and compassionate message.
Mark Nepo’s wisdom resonates so profoundly—the notion of laying down what we’ve carried to move into something new is guiding me through this challenging transition. Your recognition of this threshold, this space where endings and beginnings intersect, offers reassurance as I navigate what’s next.
To be called a “gentle warrior” by you is both humbling and affirming. Thank you for truly seeing me, for holding space, and for offering such steadfast support. Knowing that someone is here, willing to listen and share the weight of this moment, strengthens me in ways words can’t fully capture.
I’m sending gratitude and warmth to you, Nan. Your kindness shines as a beacon, reminding me that connection like this is what sustains us.
With appreciation and care,
Jay 🌟💛
Dear Jay, I just watched your video, I hope you know how much you mean to this wonderful community. You are simply one of the most supportive, most articulate and wise voices here. You care about us, support us and we care about you too. I’m deeply sorry things are so difficult. At the worst time of my life I didn’t see any hope or way forward, but sometimes when we least expect it,and most need it, there’s an opening, things shift, and you see one tiny positive that you can hang on to and build on. You are not alone Jay, I love you and so do many others. I’m so glad you reached out, you should be proud of the courage and tenacity you possess. Hang in there, and keep doing what helps you, like writing and connecting. You have a lot of people who care for you. Take good care of yourself and Monty. 🩵
Dear Susan,
Your words touched me deeply. Thank you for taking the time to watch my video and to reflect so kindly on what I’ve shared.
Hearing that my presence here is meaningful and that I’m part of this incredible community of care gives me strength in a way I can’t quite express.
In reflecting about the video, I found myself having share something extraordinary—the first-ever expression of the 100% true self Jay in my 56.4 years of life. This realization is profound.
For so long, I thought such authenticity was out of reach, buried under years of toxic shame and giving everything I had to others, of being consumed by expectations, and of losing myself in the process. Now, life has brought me to a doorstep littered with the remains of a life that once was, a consequence of having sold my soul to please, to perform, to belong.
But here’s the truth: what those remains reveal is the true, freed Jay.
Only a year ago, I could barely grasp 2% of this self. Then my 2024 intentions—healing, authenticity, and expression—began their work. This year’s intentions of healing, connection, and authorship are already bearing fruit in ways I never imagined.
What is unfolding now is not just the grief, loss, and upheaval of the life I once knew but also an extraordinary wave of kindness, compassion, and emotional support. Ripples of connection have reached me, weaving themselves around me in a way that feels like a warm embrace I had long given up on finding.
Monty and I are hanging in there, and knowing I have people like you in my corner makes all the difference. I will keep writing, keep connecting, and keep holding onto this community that has already given me so much hope.
Thank you for your love, care, and unwavering kindness. It means more than I can say.
With love and gratitude,
Jay
I watched your video and want you to know that you’re valued in this community. Your words have provided healing in my life transitions. I have often felt that when seeking authentic healing, life sometimes brings the most challenging circumstances. In those moments life seems overwhelming and impossible, but forces you to rise up and make the necessary changes for genuine healing to take place. It isn’t until after going through those difficult times, that it becomes apparent those circumstances were needed.
I want to remind you of your own beautiful words that helped me:
…Let me be clear, Sweetie: positivity doesn’t mean bypassing the dark parts of your canyon.
It means finding strength in walking through them, allowing the shadows to teach you about the layers of your own heart. You don’t have to choose between truth and light—they exist together, always. One makes the other possible.
And when you stumble, when positivity feels out of reach?
Know this: your worth does not depend on your ability to see the bright side.
You are no less worthy in your sorrow than in your joy. You are loved equally in every shade of yourself.
Positivity is not the avoidance of reality—it’s the quiet rebellion of choosing to believe in beauty anyway. It’s the acknowledgment that life, even in its harshest moments, carries the possibility of growth, connection, and grace…
Sending ♥️ to you!!!
Lisa, your words have touched me deeply, and I am in awe of this moment—having my own words come back to me when I needed them most. Thank you for seeing me and for reminding me of the truths I have spoken before but momentarily forgot in the midst of this storm.
Today has been one of those overwhelming moments, where everything feels impossible to hold. And yet, the connection, kindness, and reflections like yours have given me the strength to sit with it all—the grief, the loss, the sorrow, even the anger and powerlessness.
Your reminder of my own words is a gift I didn’t know I needed: “You are no less worthy in your sorrow than in your joy.”
I am holding those words close as I navigate this unfolding messiness. And I realize now, through this community and through your generosity, that I truly can walk through the shadows, let them teach me, and still find strength in the light.
Thank you for being here, for holding space, and for showing me what authentic connection and compassion make possible. Sending love and gratitude right back to you. ♥️
Oh Jay, I see your profound pain and disorientation. My heart breaks with yours. Let us help you carry this. I know it's not the same as if we could sit with you on that couch, holding your hand and making you soup, but we can still hold you, friend. This is so heavy, and I'm so incredibly proud of you for showing up with courage and authenticity. It's clear to me how incredibly, inherently loveable you are, even and especially in your "rock bottom ". May you find peace beyond understanding, friend. We're here and we're not going anywhere. 🤍💙
Kendall, your words are a warm hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a warm blanket on a dark cold winter night (quite true). Thank you for seeing me, for offering to help carry this weight, even from a distance. The image of sitting together, sharing soup, and holding hands brought tears to my eyes—it’s the kind of care that feels like home, even in its imagined form.
This is heavy, yes, but knowing that you and others here are holding space for me is helping immensely. This was long in the making, and I think today, I knew it was the risk I was willing to take when I stepped down a year ago. It was not if, rather when. Your reminder of inherent lovability, even in the midst of what feels like “rock bottom,” is one I’ll carry with me. It’s astonishing how connection, even virtual, can anchor us when everything feels unsteady. Thank you for your kindness, your encouragement, and for staying. It means more than words can express.
I see the light in you 🙏
Love & Gratitude Jay ❤️
You've got me all teared up now! You truly are the best, and not because of what you give or how much you do, just because of how the light shines through you. ✨️
Liebe Jay, thank you for your opennness. Es tut mir sehr leid, dass Du gerade eine schwere Zeit durchmachst. Trotz des Schmerzes sehe ich aber auch Deinen Mut, Deine Kraft und Deine Hoffnung.
On January 1st, I read a passage in Marc Nepo’s The Book of Awakening that reminded me of something important. He described a man trying to open a door without putting down the things he was carrying. The man struggled until he lost his grip, stumbled backward, and fell. Reflecting on this, Marc Nepo wrote: “We [often] refuse to put down what we carry in order to open the door. Time and time again, we are offered the chance to truly learn this: We cannot hold on to things and enter. We must put down what we carry, open the door, and then take up only what we need to bring inside.”
Dear Jay, what if the insolvency of the company is meant to give you freedom? What if it’s liberating you for something new? I don’t mean to sound overly optimistic, but I trust that you will find your way—and that this challenging time will support the healing journey you’ve mentioned.
You spoke about the journey of the phoenix, and I wholeheartedly believe that, like the phoenix, you too will rise from the ashes. I believe in you, dear Jay.
Some time ago, I’ve written a poem about the phoenix rising from the ashes. I’m sharing it with you here in case it brings you some encouragement: https://rosejah.substack.com/p/you-the-phoenix.
Viele liebe Grüße, und lass Dich nicht unterkriegen!
Rose
Liebe Rose, ganz herzlichen Dank für deine lieben Worte und dein Mitgefühl. I cannot express enough gratitude for the compassion, encouragement, and insight you’ve shared. To feel seen in this way, particularly by a fellow creative voice with ties to Germany, is a gift I didn’t expect but treasure immensely.
The Marc Nepo quote you referenced resonated a lot. The universe conspiring to remind me of a truth I’ve been circling for years: to walk through a door into something new, I must first lay down what I’ve been carrying. Yesterday, I unknowingly did just that. In allowing my most authentic self to emerge fully for the first time in over 46 years, I also put down the heavy backpack that others had loaded onto me—stones of their expectations, missed dreams, the toxic shame and burdens I had no obligation to bear. It’s liberating, though it comes with grief for the life I’m leaving behind.
Danke, dass Du dein wundervolles Gedicht mit mir geteilt hast. Du hast eine wunderschöne Stimme. Your poem about the phoenix rising from the ashes brought tears to my eyes. I had been there six times in my life before. You obviously have been there as well. It was written for this exact moment in my life. Seeing myself mirrored in your words—a being rising anew from the ashes—is profoundly affirming and empowering.
The number 7 has always held meaning for me, symbolizing completion, introspection, and transformation. Realizing that this moment represents stepping into my seventh life is the culmination of everything that came before. They say it is associated with intuition, inner wisdom, and spiritual awakening. Many see it as a bridge between the material and the spiritual worlds. So it indeed is a closing of one chapter and the opening of a new one, full of possibility and hope.
Thank you for sharing your beautiful poem. I have just subscribed to you and I’m so looking forward to exploring more of your work and deepening this connection. Whether you’re living in Germany or exploring the world, I’m grateful our paths have crossed.
With all my gratitude and warmth, I see the light in you. 🙏
Danke von ganzem Herzen ❤️ Jay
💛💛💛
Wow that was either very early or very late. Thank you.
Oh, Jay, I am so sorry to hear that you are going through such a challenging time. It’s hard to find our sense of Self has gone. To awaken to the realization that you’ve been living for others, and less for yourself. I lived most of my life for others, too, to the point I felt I’d fractured my Self, to be who they wanted me to be. I struggled to find my Self buried underneath the rubble. But, my voice grew stronger the more I listened to it, and I see your voice and spirit are strong despite everything. Yes, there’s hardship, but there’s the opportunity for rebirth, as well. And rise, you have! And there’s so much compassion and determination in you. I wish you much peace & brighter days! I’m rooting for you!
Marisa, thank you for sitting with what I had written. The shape of the situation remains the same—yes, I am still in the process of losing everything I once carried. The debts remain. The house will go. That is all true.
And within that, something shifted. I am no longer bound in the way I was. No fracture needed healing. No voice needed to be unearthed. I was always here. Now I live from that place.
It is not about rising, for me. It is about standing clear in what is mine to carry—and what no longer is. I walk through this without pretending it is less or more than what it is.
Thank you for rooting for me. Thank you for your kindness and wishes. I carry them close.
Jay, you have been through so much. I am in awe of your strength and resilience to take all of this, even as it has broken you, and turn it into community that nourishes and uplifts and strengthens others. This truly is the bodhisattva path. It is so beautiful to see how this space has become a home, has surrounded you with love, affirmation, and support. I am so glad you are here. 💚
WilM, I appreciate your kind words and the care behind them. Strength and resilience have certainly been part of this journey. This space has grown into a community that nourishes and uplifts, and I’m grateful for that. It’s a path of honesty and presence, and I’m glad to share it with others who walk alongside me.
Jay, I have not read other comments, do anything I share now is truly my reaction to your very brave and touching sharing, your reaching out by video to unknown viewers, which today includes me. I am much older than you are, and I consider myself to be reflective and a person who appreciates good souls, a category fitting for you because your goodness comes through in your video and in the various videos and messages I know you have shared online since making this tape which I just found.
My first impressions:
I am so sorry for your pain and your losses, first of all. Your loving spirit shows in the experiences you have related by telling your story. You trusted, and you have acted from the heart throughout your life as it appears to me. My suggestions, which I will share below in a moment, might seem silly to you, but please know that I am sharing with the best of intentions. Here they are.
I see gold in your soul, gold of trust, gold of always trying to do your best to help people, especially the people you care about. I also understand loss. My first suggestion to you, is that, if you have a window with sunlight coming in, that you get a little soil to put in whatever you have as a planter, and plant some marigold seeds. I’m saying this for several reasons. As a quotation goes, “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.”
Marigold seeds are easy to grow, just do not get mule marigolds because they will not reproduce. It is easy to save seeds from your marigolds once a blossom has dried, so even though they are annuals, with receding replanting, they can be prolific. I think you would enjoy the reds, yellows, and golds, depending on which kind you get. They do come in various sizes. As for reasons, I believe that you will feel good growing something and having life around you. I’m thankful for you to have a cat, but I have not looked to see if it’s safe to have miracles around cats. Please check that out first. I do know the cats love flowers, although miracles do not have a fragrance smell. I think that’s a gold would be like having sunshine added to your life. If you end up with extra seats, you would even have something to share with people near you. And the gold color can be a reminder that there is gold in your soul, the goodness in you, and that most people, fortunately, have golden goodness somewhere in their souls. Miracles do require full sunshine, and I think being in the sunshine would help you feel better.
Your talents of articulate descriptions, wisdom, music, art, sharing and caring about people, are obvious. You share repeatedly through the videos and messages you share with people you don’t even know. You have a cat to nurture, and I think that is wonderful! By your caring advice and your sharing of history, you reach out to people around the world.
I never thought about marigolds is that as you look at the intricacies of their blooms, you can see that they have depth in their formation, sort of like many pathways of the brain, a reminder that there can be many avenues of thought, various ways to to appreciate life. The intricacies might suggest that life can be enriched by expanding interests. I believe you have plenty of interest, and I know that you reach out in various ways of thought as you even think about other countries. I wonder if you might find it interesting to explore various types of music and various types of art. Maybe that’s a lot to read into a marigold blossom, but that’s a thought that comes to me now.
Marigolds are supposed to thrive better than some other flowers if there are dry conditions. That reminds me of another saying from somewhere. “When the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Marigolds and the saying remind me of the strength I see in you, your creativity, you’re finding of avenues to go forward, or as the American poet, Gwendolyn Brooks has written and said, “When you’re handed a lemon, make lemonade.” By the wonderful ways that you share positivity and encouragement in your recordings, I believe you are making lemonade! That is another golden example of your character, your perseverance, and a golden aspect of the goodness in you.
Jay, you put so much thought into all that you do according to the uplifting ways you have shared in your messages I have seen in line. It is so admirable, and I believe you have Coke a long way. You believe in people, and it makes you a kind and wonderful gift to much of the world. Your creativity is much appreciated. Keeping up is not easy for all of us, but when I do see and hear what you have shared, I recognize the beauty and the intended thought and encouragement you give the listeners or the readers, or the viewers! Thank you for being a caring person.
With your creativity, your rich feelings of goodness, and your strong sense of what is right in this world, I hope you will continue to write, to share, to create, and to be you. I also hope that in time, life will be much easier for you. Everyone who has lost someone can still carry that love and the encouragement for the past always in their hearts. I believe that the goodness of souls is never dead, and the goodness of the people who have loved and nurtured us in the best ways they knew how, lives on within us for us to draw upon whenever we need them. They also know, from the other side, that life goes on, and they never stop caring. Even if they disagreed with us on something, I’m sure they want the best for us and they see the goodness in us, whether they expressed it at all or often in their lifetimes or not. The world is a better place because of you and your goodness that you are so good to share, so Jay, please keep on sharing with the world, as you do, and being yourself. Possibly you would want to write some books, whether for children or adult adults. Or maybe you want to do something with your art or your music. Please let your choice shine, and as you do, time will pass, and I hope the times will get better for you. I wish goodness for the world, kindness to be felt in people’s lives, and for the goodness and everyone to be appreciated. I do not have answers for everything you might need or do you need, but I do see these good things that are you. You are so kind and all that you do to help make lives better for other people. I’m sure you are appreciated in many places.
(Since I have written quite a bit, it is not possible to see earlier text to proofread. I hope the writing says what I intended and that’s the phone has not made changes without my permission, as it sometimes does.)
Dear JP4M,
Reading your message was like sitting by a window with warm sunlight pouring in—quiet, generous, and unexpectedly full of grace. I felt seen in your words, and more than that, I felt held. Thank you for that. Your idea of planting marigolds touched me deeply. Not just for the symbolism—though the gold as a reminder of the gold in my soul is a kindness I won’t forget—but for the invitation. To nurture life, to make space for beauty even in a season of grief, is an act of quiet courage. You offered it so gently, and yet it feels like a profound gesture of trust: that life can bloom again, even from the barest patch of earth.
There is something deeply affirming in your faith—not just in me, but in people, in the enduring thread of love that runs through time, even past loss. Your words about those we’ve loved staying with us, wanting the best for us, echo a hope I sometimes forget to hold onto. You reminded me that their presence doesn’t end—it transforms. It becomes part of the soil we grow from. You said you hadn’t read other comments, and somehow that makes your reflection all the more sacred—unfiltered, raw, sincere. You wrote from the heart, and I felt it in mine. And yes, maybe one day there will be books. Maybe music. Maybe just more quiet moments of truth shared with people like you. For now, I will carry your words with me like seeds—golden, waiting, full of promise.With warmth and gratitude that’s hard to put into words,
Jay 🌿✨
Jay, I am thankful to know that my words and thoughts are uplifting to you, and I realize that none of us is uplifted instantly, that time is involved, and knowing that a lot of people care. Once again, your own words carry such beauty! I believe you are rising, not like the sun rises daily and goes down again at night, but more like the sunshine of longer days of Spring with great promise of still longer days and restful nights, giving us meaning and promise, as well as new memories of freshness, a freshness of nature to hold onto, and with it comes the lasting freshness that goes into making the renewed self happy again, happy over the small joys and miracles of life, whether they are of the sunshine coming sgsin, blooms or fragrant petals saved for a sache, the living pur and silky fur of a living cat, or the softness of a favorite blanket to nestle into while counting blessings of the day and a hope or two for tomorrow, recalling things that make us smile, and the gift of life itself, as it evolves into something new and better in ways we never expected, another happy surprise of nature, a plan we had not thought to make for our own selves, just a culmination
of passings and arrivals that work together to make each individual, including yourself, a miracle of life, a happy again and contented miracle, even though the whole picture is hard for an individual to fully imagine along the way. We grow, day by day, and with gratitude. For each moment, this is now, and it is a building block of who we each will be, the treasured moments and evolving we will have to reflect on and marvel at in the future.
Dear JP4M,
Your words feel like sunlight gently touching the edges of a long winter. Thank you for reminding me that growth can be quiet, that healing can look like softness, like presence, like planting beauty even in uncertain soil.
I’m holding your reflections close—the marigolds, the long light of spring, the way life surprises us with new beginnings. Your kindness is a gift, and I’m deeply grateful.
With warmth,
Jay 🌿
Jay,
I also see you, Jay. I came across your voice this past week and I thank you for putting your story out there. I am on the cusp of losing everything at this very moment and I inspired by your indomitable will. You are a light in the darkness. Much love to you!
Beth,
Your words reached me—fully. Thank you for that.
Being on the cusp of losing everything is a place I know too well. It’s raw, destabilizing, and yet somehow clarifying. It strips away all the noise until only the truth remains: you are still here.
That matters. That’s the seed of beginning again, even when it feels impossible.
If anything I’ve shared offered you a moment of grounding, or reminded you of your own strength, then I’m deeply grateful. Because I don’t write from a distance—I write from within the wreckage, and the rebuilding.
You're not alone in this, Beth. Keep holding on. There’s something waiting on the other side of collapse—and it has you in it.
Much love right back to you. xoxo Jay
Oh my Jay, my heart breaks for you to have gone through so much. You are such an inspiration for so many of us and your generosity of heart with others has always been so powerful for me to read in your past posts. I hope you are finding your way to applying that same love towards your beautiful soul that despite your pain in this video, still glows for all of us to see and feel. I hope you feel it too and we mirror it right back to you. I am so thrilled that a path forward has appeared for you today, and I look forward to being part of your journey very soon. Big hugs and love.
I'm just listening to this now, what a hard journey you've been on, Jay. What hard work you've done. What a painful burden you've had to bear. You are very much appreciated here on Substack, your expression and ability to hear people is tireless, authentic and so generous. I'm tuning into your story now. I'm listening. I feel a tipping point of the longed for light.
Síodhna,
thank you. That landed gently. I read your words slowly, more than once, letting them reach the parts of me that still brace for dismissal or silence. That you’re tuning in now—not just to the story, but to the long road beneath it—means something I can’t quite name yet.
I’ve carried a lot, yes. And what’s shifted lately isn’t just the weight but the way I carry it. Less like endurance, more like honesty. Your presence here, listening without rushing to fix or frame, is part of that shift.
If there is a tipping point toward light, I’m learning to stand still long enough to feel it—not as a final arrival, but as a quieter permission.
I’m grateful you're here.
Jay
I hope you can feel the warmth here from this community and that it will sustain you in the months ahead.
Yes, Kristi I can feel the support of this community and it has sustained me in more ways I can tell. It has contributed in many ways to me being able to move through these times with an outlook and hope.
Dear Jay, Ich kann mich nur den vielen, wunderbaren Kommentaren und Worten anschliessen. I admire you for being so brave to share this difficult story and point in your life. And I love to see this great community here embracing you and trying to send you love, courage, mental support, and heartfelt words. Some days ago, I was reading something about how terrible situations can either break us or break us open. I can see in your courage and willingness to move on that you broke open, ready to start living YOUR life according to YOUR inner callings, dreams, and rhythms. Go for it. Nothing can stop you from rising from the bottom.
Mit lieben Grüßen, C.
Claudia,
Ich nehme deine Worte mit Dankbarkeit an. Es ist kein leichter Weg, doch er ist meiner, und das zählt. Das Bild vom „breaking open“ trifft einen wahren Kern – manchmal geht es nicht darum, sich gegen den Bruch zu wehren, sondern darum, zu sehen, was daraus wachsen kann.
Ich schätze deine Wertschätzung und deine Gedanken sehr. Danke, dass du hier bist.
Mit lieben Grüßen,
Jay
You are not alone, Jay! The unraveling happening right now is deep and affecting so many of us. I'm going through something very similar right now that has put my whole livelihood at risk. Yet, there's a profound knowing that this is part of the process of letting go that I've been praying for. I wished it came with more ease, but learning to accept how it's manifested and witnessing all the wounds that are seeing the light for me to finally witness and tend to them.
What a blessing that you're finding solace in this community. It's your words and loving presence that have brought us to you. That will only continue to grow, and I know it will bring so many unexpected blessings into your life.
Ana, I hear you. That deep unraveling, the one that shakes everything we thought was solid—it’s a lot. And yet, there’s this undercurrent of knowing, of something shifting toward truth. I won’t pretend it’s easy. Letting go rarely is, especially when it threatens the very structures that held us upright for so long.
I see you tending to those wounds, witnessing what was once hidden. That alone is powerful. And yes, finding this community, this space where we can exist as we are, has been a gift. Your presence here matters too, Ana. We’re walking this path alongside each other, even when the way forward feels unclear.