Ben Kohns

“Ever so gradually over time our understanding of ourselves gets shaped by what we do and what we’ve done. We cling, we grasp, we hold tightly to these identities. And then we find ourselves without them. Sometimes because we chose to leave them behind, other times they’re taken away without our consent. I felt so exposed. So vulnerable. I remember my friend Chris telling me that people were asking him, What happened to Rob? As in Where’d he go? as in Is he doing anything? I remember feeling this low-level dread when he told me that. Like a cold shudder. One harmless comment from a friend, and my imagination ran wild with endless ruminations on how to set the record straight and let those people know that I was still in the game. That’s the thing about liminal space: You’re really tender. Raw. Susceptible to those old forces and fears. I didn’t have regret, I was flirting with something far more powerful: fear. Fear that it appeared like I didn’t have any idea what I was doing. Fear that it looked like I couldn’t hack it, so I left. Fear that people thought I was somebody, and then I’d thrown it away. And here’s the killer one: Fear that I appeared to be done.”
― Rob Bell, Everything Is Spiritual: Finding Your Way in a Turbulent World

“She told me not long ago, “I’m not suicidal, but sometimes I wish I was dead.” This is the point beyond exhaustion, when you can’t see how you’ll ever fill up again. And then she does, through what she calls lunch-money faith: nothing dramatic, and just enough.”
― Anne Lamott, Dusk, Night, Dawn: On Revival and Courage

“Abraham Lincoln had not given a single speech on his own behalf during either of his campaigns, and Rutherford B. Hayes advised Garfield to do the same. “Sit crosslegged,” he said, “and look wise.”
― Candice Millard, Destiny of the Republic: A Tale of Madness, Medicine and the Murder of a President

“The opposite of ‘mean’ is ‘doormat,”
― Margaret Atwood, My Evil Mother