“Don’t give into emotions that sap your energy. Like Anger. Take a deep breath and speak calmly.”

-Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, sharing the lessons her mother taught her.

How was your weekend?

I feel pretty good since I stayed off of my phone other than the times I used it to facetime my sister, and call my brother in Japan to wish him a happy birthday.

If you are ever tempted to know how it feels to put your phone away for the whole weekend, I highly recommend it. I still had a couple of zoom meetings and had some work on my desktop computer, but I intentionally put away my phone (Andy from Headspace sort of dared me), and I loved it.

Mostly because of the anxiety and the emotions coming through all the social media outlets.

Of course on Friday the beloved Ruth Bader Ginsburg died.

There was such a commotion online. News media. Twitter. Friends texting me so much of their anxiety. My resilience buddy from this FB group was also very distraught. My buddhist mentor who is as calm as anyone I have ever met was dropping F bombs on his feed. He was clearly devastated. But I think there was another feeling in his post. He was fearful.

As was I.

We all know all about her. She was our superhero. So many of us don’t even realize what she had done to make our lives easier. I am hoping by now you have learned and had your mind blown.

Somewhere I read: Oh couldn’t she hold on a little bit longer?

My husband and I talked about her death on Friday night. He said, “You KNOW she was trying to hold on.”

How many of you have cared for or have had a loved one with widely metastatic pancreatic cancer? The pain, the obstruction, the relentless nausea. Yet she couldn’t have simply just chosen a soft landing for herself, could she? She was working until the day she couldn’t. She kept fighting hard through all of that to live to see a different outcome.

I am glad she died. I know she was fighting with every breath to stay alive.

It is my personal pet peeve when people tell grieving people: at least he/she is no longer suffering. It never helps those left behind.

But in this one case, let me be the one who celebrates her life while giving her permission to die.

She did all she could. Way past what was humanly expected of her.

Vote. Speak up. Carry her torch.

But don’t get angry: Just listen to her own words.

Know that she fought to live as long as it was possible for her to live. Worked way beyond what was humanly expected of her.

Honor her life, by voting, donating, volunteering, educating your children. Call/email/text your senators. Speak up. Honor her legacy. Honor her last wish.

—All she asked was not to have her position be filled until the election is over.

Don’t lose hope that she is gone. Celebrate the life she lived.

So much love to all of you.