I have in my head the image of a woman named Maria. She’s Swedish, living in a forest. She’s re-wilding it, though that’s not the point. The point is she has a notebook - a journal/scrapbook/sketchbook that she’s calls her Face Book. She imagines the things that are in there — thoughts, sketches, paintings, ideas, chronicles of daily life — are the kinds of things other people post on the social media platform of the same name. The difference being, she says, is that she doesn’t share it with the entire world.
Zen poetry and cool mornings that feel like autumn.
I feel like I’m at the crossroads again - or is it the precipice? - dithering with my toes curled over the edge of something, wanting desperately to leap but clinging to Knowns. Which is silly, because nothing can be Known. Not really.
How capitalism has ruined the internet.
On the subject of brinks…I think/hope/pray we’ve been delivered from at least one of them.
How to create a wilderness within (thank you, J, for the clarification xo)
The smell of sealing wax mixes with incense and old paint.
Sometimes I wake up with an overwhelmingly deep sense of loss. It’s an ache that would become a scream so I try to muffle it with tea and British television, old novels and memories. Nostalgia is my Achilles heel, so I’m told.
He asks, “What about the girls?”. Indeed, what about us…though he isn’t the one who should be asking.
Seven minutes and my back only hurts a little. I’ll never get that left knee to bend properly, though. Apparently, it’s the intention that counts.
All is held.
~m. xo
Feel free to leave one of yours in the comments…
I love this list. Love it. And I ponder some of the same things -- the sense of loss, British TV as a panacea, the crossroads and the internet, and the brinks. I am feeling a bit overwhelmed medically and so sad that summer has slipped away before I could embrace it the way I usually do.
the wilderness within...is always there. sometimes people forget the way to it. sometimes they think they are tamed, domesticated, broken. not so. in our deepest hearts and souls, we are always in an infinite wilderness--a green cradle-space, uncountable stars, fathomless waters, our true selves.