Yes. Are many people here? That is what I wonder… I am feeling that deep sense of loss and painting these expansive misty landscapes and almost wanting to wail… for everything. Thank goodness for autumn who welcomes those types of sounds. 🍁 xj
How to create a wilderness within ... oh, I'm going to sit with that one, feeling the wonder of it - what it might look like, what it could be - for me, for others. The thought of it is beguiling. 😊 And number eight - how I relate to waking up with a deep sense of loss. That hit hard. It wakes me up with whispers of what could have been, what might never be, in my waking ears. Time is short it tells me, and my coming of age between night and day already calls my shadow, tucking my longings inside and testing the limits of its border. It holds all the darkness and never leaves my side, sometimes larger, sometimes smaller, but always there. I push it away with prayer, hot coffee, and writing sessions. I loved these "just ten things" Mel!
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.
I loved this read and wrote extensively in my journal about it, as I did with the Sunday Scribble prompt. But the days are busy here with the sudden, unexpected cold snap and I just haven't found time to sit down and read and write on Substack. I'm trying to reorient today and get back to my writing projects. I also have a Cornelian Cherry harvest to process, long beans to put into the dehydrator and Sage, Thyme, Savory, and Basils to take out. Fermented doughs and sourdough to bake into loaves and share, and maybe some apple and peach handpies to construct and bake. This summer has been one of so much loss of neighbors and dear friends, and currently there are others beginning their dance with cancer diagnoses. Doing what I can when I can do nothing feels pressing. I didn't sleep well last night and thiought, while lying in bed, that today was already a washout, but I've been surprised to rise, sit in my morning nature sit spot and find that inspiration has shown up. So, I'm wiping my gritty, sleep-deprived eyes, and noticing what's next to do. As you said so well: All is held. Thank you for your insightful writing, Mel. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that when I was sleepless last night I finished THE HOUSE IN THE HEDGE. Wonderful! I'm thinking of Hazel often and reminding myself to trust my own dysfuntion and dysregulation times, recognizing that they don't make me a failure; they make me human.
Oh Leenie...I'm sorry you're traveling with so much loss and sorrow right now. That's hard. "Doing what I can when I can do nothing..." <--- that's a powerful dialectic...and I understand the feeling of pressing-ness. In those situations, doing the next right thing is all there is. I'm glad you enjoyed Hazel's story and yes, humanity, in all its mess and glory. xo
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.
Yes. Are many people here? That is what I wonder… I am feeling that deep sense of loss and painting these expansive misty landscapes and almost wanting to wail… for everything. Thank goodness for autumn who welcomes those types of sounds. 🍁 xj
I wonder that too. Mine are skies and fields of wildflowers...that wilderness thing again xo
How to create a wilderness within ... oh, I'm going to sit with that one, feeling the wonder of it - what it might look like, what it could be - for me, for others. The thought of it is beguiling. 😊 And number eight - how I relate to waking up with a deep sense of loss. That hit hard. It wakes me up with whispers of what could have been, what might never be, in my waking ears. Time is short it tells me, and my coming of age between night and day already calls my shadow, tucking my longings inside and testing the limits of its border. It holds all the darkness and never leaves my side, sometimes larger, sometimes smaller, but always there. I push it away with prayer, hot coffee, and writing sessions. I loved these "just ten things" Mel!
Glad you enjoyed them... I didn’t know what to write so just started writing 😉. Here’s to a wilderness adventure xo
I say a big Yes! To the adventure.😊
Oof. Feeling it all.
Yup 🥰
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.
Sorry things are too much right now...medical stuff has a way of becoming all consuming. Autumn is lovely, though 😊xo
Love this so much. Wilderness within. Lovely.
It's somewhere I hope to spend more time. ;) xo
I loved this read and wrote extensively in my journal about it, as I did with the Sunday Scribble prompt. But the days are busy here with the sudden, unexpected cold snap and I just haven't found time to sit down and read and write on Substack. I'm trying to reorient today and get back to my writing projects. I also have a Cornelian Cherry harvest to process, long beans to put into the dehydrator and Sage, Thyme, Savory, and Basils to take out. Fermented doughs and sourdough to bake into loaves and share, and maybe some apple and peach handpies to construct and bake. This summer has been one of so much loss of neighbors and dear friends, and currently there are others beginning their dance with cancer diagnoses. Doing what I can when I can do nothing feels pressing. I didn't sleep well last night and thiought, while lying in bed, that today was already a washout, but I've been surprised to rise, sit in my morning nature sit spot and find that inspiration has shown up. So, I'm wiping my gritty, sleep-deprived eyes, and noticing what's next to do. As you said so well: All is held. Thank you for your insightful writing, Mel. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that when I was sleepless last night I finished THE HOUSE IN THE HEDGE. Wonderful! I'm thinking of Hazel often and reminding myself to trust my own dysfuntion and dysregulation times, recognizing that they don't make me a failure; they make me human.
Oh Leenie...I'm sorry you're traveling with so much loss and sorrow right now. That's hard. "Doing what I can when I can do nothing..." <--- that's a powerful dialectic...and I understand the feeling of pressing-ness. In those situations, doing the next right thing is all there is. I'm glad you enjoyed Hazel's story and yes, humanity, in all its mess and glory. xo
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.
Yes....absolutely, this. xo