Weary happens and your words made it resonate at a new depth, an insightful and necessary depth. I think I will head to the diner now...to shake, rattle, and roll. Thank you.
When she wrote for Newsweek a few decades ago(?)- it was a print weekly then - I always looked forward to reading whatever Anna Quindlan had written. I bought several of her books. One of them was a compendium of stories from women who had abortions. Those stories were so compelling that I changed my very ambivalent feelings about this necessary medical procedure for women.
Your writing is compelling too, but in a different way from Anna's. But the ending of one of her stories (working too much and the monotony of it all, at times) came flashing into my consciousness like a blinking neon light.
It was a homeless man's wisdom, imparted to her while he sat on a beach (or wharf - whatever) staring into the water. He said to her: "but look at the view, look at the view."
Perhaps you need to spend even more time "looking at the view." I know, I do. Water has this restorative quality for me when I sit a spell and just take it all in and breathe.
That's me, too, Linda, I spend so much time at the river. It's literally minutes from my back door. And, I'm going to look up Anna Quindlan's books because you have good taste I know. : )
You are blessed that you are so close to a body of water. I have to drive at least 5 miles to go east to the Delaware River; 10 miles where parking is plentiful and I don't have to trespass on private property. 🙃.
I love the style of this. I can feel what you are saying in my bones. I also love the idea that we all have a little animal inside like the Bluebird. There is a beautiful book called The Boy with a Bird in His Chest. Check it out. And congratulations on this heartfelt piece.
This is simply super. Prose and verse ambling hand-in-hand. Thoughts and feelings expressed so truly that they feel like gentle creatures sitting beside you.
Oh, I love that imagery so much, our thoughts and feelings as gentle creatures sitting beside us. Thank you so much for that. Gifts from the heavens, they're everywhere. :)
Sometimes, the most loving thing is to stop pushing and just witness someone where they are...with softness, and without a plan.
And maybe the words in your head... your memories, your thoughts, your truths... are already a cocoon. Not to become something new, but to gently hold all that you are, even in this ending.
Oh that's fun. I edited because I can't seem to leave my writing alone, but kept the context the same. You made me smile with that!
Thank you, Grif, that's a mighty fine compliment! :)
Your writing is so good and so natural and visual. Maybe that is your open door to the world
Thank you, Sandra. I sure hope so.
Just beautiful.
Thanks, Deirdre, I'm glad you liked this one :)
Weary happens and your words made it resonate at a new depth, an insightful and necessary depth. I think I will head to the diner now...to shake, rattle, and roll. Thank you.
Omg, I love that you have a diner like that, too. How fun is that?!
Your words have struck like arrows, bullseye in multiple places and left me speechless in both pain and wonder. Thank you for the reminder.
You are so welcome. Funny isn't it, how what we need sometimes just shows up. I love when life works that way, and thank you :)
Thank you. https://youtu.be/cf0TnfeNNi4?si=aAjGqRntoctXlAbP
Aww, Julie, that was so sweet. Thank you, too!
Wow! I do love your writing, your heart and brain. This fed my soul today. It was a deep breakfast full of beauty and truth. Thank You!
Thank you, Xerlan, what a nice thing to say. Thank you! :)
my god. I have no words for this Linda. just keep flying.
What a truly beautiful compliment Mackenzie, thank you. I will sure try!
Your writing is so real, beautiful, and visual. I was spellbound reading this. I’ll be thinking about that diner and butterfly often.
https://youtu.be/oq3bLe6I_L4?si=2Q_N5aj6fGMj_fav
Beautiful!
When she wrote for Newsweek a few decades ago(?)- it was a print weekly then - I always looked forward to reading whatever Anna Quindlan had written. I bought several of her books. One of them was a compendium of stories from women who had abortions. Those stories were so compelling that I changed my very ambivalent feelings about this necessary medical procedure for women.
Your writing is compelling too, but in a different way from Anna's. But the ending of one of her stories (working too much and the monotony of it all, at times) came flashing into my consciousness like a blinking neon light.
It was a homeless man's wisdom, imparted to her while he sat on a beach (or wharf - whatever) staring into the water. He said to her: "but look at the view, look at the view."
Perhaps you need to spend even more time "looking at the view." I know, I do. Water has this restorative quality for me when I sit a spell and just take it all in and breathe.
That's me, too, Linda, I spend so much time at the river. It's literally minutes from my back door. And, I'm going to look up Anna Quindlan's books because you have good taste I know. : )
You are blessed that you are so close to a body of water. I have to drive at least 5 miles to go east to the Delaware River; 10 miles where parking is plentiful and I don't have to trespass on private property. 🙃.
Caterpillars turn to goo inside their cocoons before they turn into butterflies and just, yes.
Right? They do. Primordial goo and it's the only way to rebuild from the atoms up. I love that you know that, too. Thank you, Kira.
I love the style of this. I can feel what you are saying in my bones. I also love the idea that we all have a little animal inside like the Bluebird. There is a beautiful book called The Boy with a Bird in His Chest. Check it out. And congratulations on this heartfelt piece.
Thank you so much. Not just for the kind compliments but the book suggestion, too. I love random book shares so much. Just added it to my list. :)
This is simply super. Prose and verse ambling hand-in-hand. Thoughts and feelings expressed so truly that they feel like gentle creatures sitting beside you.
Oh, I love that imagery so much, our thoughts and feelings as gentle creatures sitting beside us. Thank you so much for that. Gifts from the heavens, they're everywhere. :)
Sometimes, the most loving thing is to stop pushing and just witness someone where they are...with softness, and without a plan.
And maybe the words in your head... your memories, your thoughts, your truths... are already a cocoon. Not to become something new, but to gently hold all that you are, even in this ending.