She is 97.  With a beautiful heart, failing legs, and a mind that some would say is failing too.

I see it a little differently.  I see a mind that has loosened its grip in a way we all desire.  Letting go of anxiety, to do lists, the need for comparison, planning for the future, regret.

She’s my grandmother and she has dementia.  It’s a condition caused by the gradual death of brain cells.

The space that has emerged is filled with humor, freedom, candidness, peace, pointed wisdom at times and an innate ability to be in the present.

There is also confusion, the sense of something not being quite right, and a loss of memories.  For those who love her, there's a sadness when they aren't recognized. Yet we always have an intimate visit with my grandmother’s inner soul.

And in her moments of clarity, her most authentic self steps forward loving and appreciating this world.   She now relaxes into daily gratitude. She trusts.  She feels.  She sleeps soundly.  She accepts.

At this point, dementia has removed layers of the mind in my grandmother that bury the soul in all of us.  Layers of thought, personality, memories that become our story, fear of the future.

It’s too early to say it’s a gift, but for sure it’s a lesson in what is pure . . . how beautiful an untethered heart and soul can be.  And, no matter the age, when a soul bares itself, we must hold and love it with the same compassion we hold a child.

Today, maybe we try loosening the grip of our own mind. Let’s relax into the present, allow our emotions to surface freely, let go of self judgement, and rest in a space of trust.

What is your relationship with disappointment?  I've had a ring of disappointments enter my radar this month; of my friends, my family, my own.  They each have a familiar beginning and middle: hope, effort, anticipation, disappointment.

The end to these stories tends to be very private. After disappointment, there is a final chapter of processing and healing required to close the loop.

The Olympics was an amazing example of intense disappointment mixed with storybook victory.  I watched with such respect for these athletes.  I would love to read their last chapters to learn more about their relationship with disappointment. I know it's different from mine.

Athletes like gymnast Jordan Jovtchev from Bulgaria in his 6th Olympic games, train their whole life to “succeed” or to “fail”, staring disappointment squarely and publicly in the face, over and over.

I’m in a different camp.  I seem to work around potential life disappointments, living safely and predictably. Whenever I attempt to avoid disappointments, I ultimately create them, in the form of regret.  

So how do we create a healthy relationship with disappointment?

Buddhism has a basic belief that disappointment is caused by attachment to expectations - the root of human suffering.  

But how do we manifest a full life and detach ourselves from it at the same time?

How do we find the motivation to fuel our hard work without having expectations about the outcome?

Is life supposed to be just a wait-and-see exercise with pleasant surprises sprinkled in?

How do we let go of expectations without feeling stagnant or unfocused?

Maybe a healthy relationship with life and its disappointments means facing this emotion directly, regularly, and consciously.

• Loosening the grip of our dreams and desires without losing sight of them, so we can better appreciate the journey while still steering our life.
   
• Being more comfortable putting ourselves out there and then letting go, trusting the unfolding of life.

If we want to go for a medal in any area of our lives, we need to practice being vulnerable and strengthening our core sense of “wholeness” regardless of the outcome.

The spirit of Sunday's Closing Ceremonies embodied the Last Chapter we all want to write. It's about celebrating our best efforts, embracing those who land "ahead" and "behind" us, having mutual respect for our collective journey and honoring all of our courage along the way.

In life things break.  Right now I have a broken toe, dishwasher again, a favorite bowl, a chipped friendship, and a little broken dream.

When something breaks it requires our attention.  I can tell you from experience, if you don’t stop and tend to it you will get a foot in a walking cast, piles of dirty dishes, glass splinters, a nagging conscience, and chronic malaise.   

No matter how aggravating, uncomfortable, or overwhelming it may be, the sooner we deal with what’s broken, the lighter we become.

Whether it requires patience for a slow heal, help from others, piecing it together or letting it go . . . doing the work is the important exercise.  

When material things break, we are immediately reminded of what really matters in life.  When we physically break, it’s a forced exercise in self care.  When parts of our lives feel broken, we are invited to find our most vulnerable and most strong selves.  All gifts in life.

What’s broken for you? Might it be life’s invitation to slow down, pay attention, and do the work?

May “Doing the Work” in your life be less about fixing and more about accepting imperfection, being comfortable with the uncomfortable, knowing when to let go, feeling your strength, healing with your heart, and lightening your load.

And while we work on ourselves, may we all continue to work together to heal our broken world.  It needs us.