I keep coming back to a particular poem which is playing over and over in my mind. I hope you like it as much as I do:
Caring is loving, motionless,
An interval of more or less
Between the stress and the distress.
After the present falls the past,
After the festival, the fast.
Always the deepest is the last.
This is the circle we must trace,
Not spiralled outward, but a space
Returning to its starting place.
Centre of all we mourn and bless,
Centre of calm, beyond excess,
Who cares for caring, has caress.
(F.R. Scott 1899-1985)