Splendid photo poems and last day of the year reflections, Chris. I'm feeling deeply grateful looking at Sidney Perched On a Rock Overlooking the Lamar River Poem, Buff’lo Poem, and Best Dog Poem and reading your words at 3 a.m. which is an hour after my usual wake-up time, unemployed and fully employed. I'm a winter person. Savoring the darkness and the winter light and the relative cold outside and warm inside. The Trumpeter swans are here now, along with Orion rising in the early evening and accompanying us through the night. Of course, here in the Pacific Northwest we have rain and a heavy cloud cover much of the winter time. Perfect weather for the cedar trees and those of us who are like cedar trees.
Appreciate your thoughts about community in winter. I live alone (yet keep thinking about sharing my limited space with a cat again). On a daily basis throughout the year, I get together with a small group of friends, women and men, at 7:00 or 7:30 a.m. We are a diverse group of unemployed, fully employed people who support each other and welcome anyone who wishes to join us. Our gatherings are especially dear to me in the dark winter months.
All the best to you and your many loved ones in 2024.
Thank you for expressing your frustration and lack of solution about this - I am there too, questioning how to bring people close again in a way that is calm and gentle. I am reading Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport at the moment - one of the suggestions for increasing actual conversation (as opposed to 'connection' via screens) is having a weekly coffee hour where you tell your friends and family and community that you'll be at a coffee shop from x hour and that they are welcome to drop in to sit and chat and co-habit that space if they wish. It got me thinking about creating these containers where people know they can access you (a specific time, place, theme, that is repeated each week or month). There's so much a culture of 'I didn't call because I didn't want to intrude or disrupt your busyness' that perhaps this approach could help. Lots of food for thought!
I read that book and have been considering something similar. Are you going to try it? Tomorrow I am doing the saunter at Council Grove, as I mention above, which is a kind of shove against my comfort zone. When it comes to my saunters, I'm typically of a mind to be alone, and if I do invite someone along ... well, the closing line to Mary Oliver's poem, "How I Go to the Woods" comes to mind: "If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.”
I have decided to try the coffee shop idea out next weekend. In the meantime I took another idea from the same book - I text a friend this morning saying 'I'm going to be available any time after 4pm to speak so call me if you find yourself with free time and we'll have a chat'. She did call, and I walked around the block where I live whilst we chatted. It was such a lovely moment of actual conversation, after months of occasional texts and missing each other because of illnesses or commitments.
I hope you enjoy the saunter at Council Grove tomorrow - I can relate to it feeling like a challenge to the comfort zone. In November I organised a saunter with a group of people I met online and I was really nervous. It turned out others were too and I ended up feeling enriched by the whole experience. My hope is that your spirits will be lifted too, even if in a slightly different way to your usual solo excursions! Would love to hear how it goes, if you feel called to share.
So much to take-in from this one singular post. I like the concept of being unemployed/employed: I can identify with this. And, your doggie story. All the beautiful thoughts in this post to carry my heart from one eventful year into the blank slate of the next.
May 2024 hold much gainful employment for you, Chris ;)
Nookomis is such a lovely, quiet companion, especially on cold winter nights. When she is full, I always look for her in the mornings before dawn, and when she is new and dark, I miss her beautiful face. I appreciate the "quieter, more relaxed, grateful kind of community" you've created here. Miigwich.
“the Wintermaker”. 💞💞 I like people who can roll with the chaos of my house. People who know how to entertain themselves but also like my cheese and crackers. Increasingly I am feeling like food is a great event. Cook a meal, a cupcake, put together a spicy mix of snacks, grab a hot liquid and tell me your gossip. I love to have the kids underfoot because adults forget how to play sometimes but have you ever seen a grown man play charades and pretend to act out tossing a baton in the air like a cheerleader? May have been my favorite moment last week….
Best dog poem. What a sweet soul--and I know what you mean, I have that same feeling about the first big dog I ever had. We just keep trying with what we know--and how they wait for us is something that is possibly the truest form of grace I've experienced.
I also love the winter--good thing finally since it's so long here...--but I was talking about that with friends over xmas dinner and it's also because of the time that people spend together more, when people are all sort of facing the same environment, the same season of quiet, rest, dark, cold. In AK, it seems everyone flee to the mountains and to fieldwork in the summer, but people are social in the winter more, around to be together--and I like that despite the settler colonialism of this land, the land is still teaching us what it means to draw together in times of cold and dark, that there is something of that rhythm that draws on us. It's imperfect--and as an admitted recluse, it's not frequent--but I do love winter for that part as well.
Blessings to you and all you care about for this new year.
Orion is my favorite constellation from childhood, probably because it was so easy to recognize for the wee lad I was, but also because there seemed to be something going on and I imagined stories about what that might be. I was happy to learn the Anishinaabe words Biboon and Biboonkeonini "the Wintermaker". A while back, I wrote this:
Orion returns
on a clear December night.
Standing watch til dawn
Your article "Unemployed, Fully Employed" reminded me of this quote from Jimmy Santiago Baca during an interview: "Who the hell has justified being able to go to a factory and work for fifty years putting labels on soup cans? Let's just call it murder because it's murder, it's spiritual murder..."
Ever since Covid I have been using a new writing routine. I park under a tree in a corner of a nearby cemetery and write in the passenger seat of my car. No distractions and stories abound. I have greatly enjoyed reading your posts, Chris.
Creating and participating in spiritual communities is important for my well being. It steadies me during this time of deep losses and grief. Singing in the church choir, participating in person and online spiritual discussion groups, going to local powwows...Mingling with neighbors prompted by seeing them walking in our hood. I’m on the lookout for rich community experiences, impromptu or not.
Thank you so much for this beautiful post to ease us all through endings and beginnings. I will look for those moments of quiet winter community and think of you!
I love your idea of pictures as poems, Chris. It echoes back to Layli Long Soldier's poem "38" in your last post when she says, "I am inclined to call this act by the Dakota warriors a poem." (Referring to how the warriors stuffed grass in the mouth of the man who denied them food and said they should eat grass.) Miigwech for expanding my conception of what makes a poem!
Just like you, I'm still working at being the man my dog thinks I am.
It's a moment to moment challenge that makes us better, isn't it?
Splendid photo poems and last day of the year reflections, Chris. I'm feeling deeply grateful looking at Sidney Perched On a Rock Overlooking the Lamar River Poem, Buff’lo Poem, and Best Dog Poem and reading your words at 3 a.m. which is an hour after my usual wake-up time, unemployed and fully employed. I'm a winter person. Savoring the darkness and the winter light and the relative cold outside and warm inside. The Trumpeter swans are here now, along with Orion rising in the early evening and accompanying us through the night. Of course, here in the Pacific Northwest we have rain and a heavy cloud cover much of the winter time. Perfect weather for the cedar trees and those of us who are like cedar trees.
Appreciate your thoughts about community in winter. I live alone (yet keep thinking about sharing my limited space with a cat again). On a daily basis throughout the year, I get together with a small group of friends, women and men, at 7:00 or 7:30 a.m. We are a diverse group of unemployed, fully employed people who support each other and welcome anyone who wishes to join us. Our gatherings are especially dear to me in the dark winter months.
All the best to you and your many loved ones in 2024.
This is beautiful. I appreciate you, my friend! 🌲🦢
Thank you for expressing your frustration and lack of solution about this - I am there too, questioning how to bring people close again in a way that is calm and gentle. I am reading Digital Minimalism by Cal Newport at the moment - one of the suggestions for increasing actual conversation (as opposed to 'connection' via screens) is having a weekly coffee hour where you tell your friends and family and community that you'll be at a coffee shop from x hour and that they are welcome to drop in to sit and chat and co-habit that space if they wish. It got me thinking about creating these containers where people know they can access you (a specific time, place, theme, that is repeated each week or month). There's so much a culture of 'I didn't call because I didn't want to intrude or disrupt your busyness' that perhaps this approach could help. Lots of food for thought!
I read that book and have been considering something similar. Are you going to try it? Tomorrow I am doing the saunter at Council Grove, as I mention above, which is a kind of shove against my comfort zone. When it comes to my saunters, I'm typically of a mind to be alone, and if I do invite someone along ... well, the closing line to Mary Oliver's poem, "How I Go to the Woods" comes to mind: "If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.”
Oh Mary Oliver, adore that sentiment!
I have decided to try the coffee shop idea out next weekend. In the meantime I took another idea from the same book - I text a friend this morning saying 'I'm going to be available any time after 4pm to speak so call me if you find yourself with free time and we'll have a chat'. She did call, and I walked around the block where I live whilst we chatted. It was such a lovely moment of actual conversation, after months of occasional texts and missing each other because of illnesses or commitments.
I hope you enjoy the saunter at Council Grove tomorrow - I can relate to it feeling like a challenge to the comfort zone. In November I organised a saunter with a group of people I met online and I was really nervous. It turned out others were too and I ended up feeling enriched by the whole experience. My hope is that your spirits will be lifted too, even if in a slightly different way to your usual solo excursions! Would love to hear how it goes, if you feel called to share.
If there is anything worth mentioning I absolutely will!
So much to take-in from this one singular post. I like the concept of being unemployed/employed: I can identify with this. And, your doggie story. All the beautiful thoughts in this post to carry my heart from one eventful year into the blank slate of the next.
May 2024 hold much gainful employment for you, Chris ;)
Same to you, Marie.
Nookomis is such a lovely, quiet companion, especially on cold winter nights. When she is full, I always look for her in the mornings before dawn, and when she is new and dark, I miss her beautiful face. I appreciate the "quieter, more relaxed, grateful kind of community" you've created here. Miigwich.
🌕
Beautiful post. I loved so much in this. Thanks for lifting my spirits in the wee hours of New Year’s Eve.
Happy New Year, Francia!
“the Wintermaker”. 💞💞 I like people who can roll with the chaos of my house. People who know how to entertain themselves but also like my cheese and crackers. Increasingly I am feeling like food is a great event. Cook a meal, a cupcake, put together a spicy mix of snacks, grab a hot liquid and tell me your gossip. I love to have the kids underfoot because adults forget how to play sometimes but have you ever seen a grown man play charades and pretend to act out tossing a baton in the air like a cheerleader? May have been my favorite moment last week….
Sounds like the most delightful kind of mayhem, friend.
You’re welcome anytime 🪐⚡️
Best dog poem. What a sweet soul--and I know what you mean, I have that same feeling about the first big dog I ever had. We just keep trying with what we know--and how they wait for us is something that is possibly the truest form of grace I've experienced.
I also love the winter--good thing finally since it's so long here...--but I was talking about that with friends over xmas dinner and it's also because of the time that people spend together more, when people are all sort of facing the same environment, the same season of quiet, rest, dark, cold. In AK, it seems everyone flee to the mountains and to fieldwork in the summer, but people are social in the winter more, around to be together--and I like that despite the settler colonialism of this land, the land is still teaching us what it means to draw together in times of cold and dark, that there is something of that rhythm that draws on us. It's imperfect--and as an admitted recluse, it's not frequent--but I do love winter for that part as well.
Absolutely. Thank you for this. 💚
Blessings to you and all you care about for this new year.
Orion is my favorite constellation from childhood, probably because it was so easy to recognize for the wee lad I was, but also because there seemed to be something going on and I imagined stories about what that might be. I was happy to learn the Anishinaabe words Biboon and Biboonkeonini "the Wintermaker". A while back, I wrote this:
Orion returns
on a clear December night.
Standing watch til dawn
Your article "Unemployed, Fully Employed" reminded me of this quote from Jimmy Santiago Baca during an interview: "Who the hell has justified being able to go to a factory and work for fifty years putting labels on soup cans? Let's just call it murder because it's murder, it's spiritual murder..."
Thank you for your art and sharing.
Miigwech! And that's a lovely haiku. I appreciate you sharing it!
Ever since Covid I have been using a new writing routine. I park under a tree in a corner of a nearby cemetery and write in the passenger seat of my car. No distractions and stories abound. I have greatly enjoyed reading your posts, Chris.
I have similar haunts (*cough*) but none of them are regular.
Creating and participating in spiritual communities is important for my well being. It steadies me during this time of deep losses and grief. Singing in the church choir, participating in person and online spiritual discussion groups, going to local powwows...Mingling with neighbors prompted by seeing them walking in our hood. I’m on the lookout for rich community experiences, impromptu or not.
Perfect.
Thank you so much for this beautiful post to ease us all through endings and beginnings. I will look for those moments of quiet winter community and think of you!
Miigwech!
Lovely, lovely post.
💚
It's such beautiful country where you live.
And Bernard was a handsome gentleman pup. :).
Happy New Year to you and yours.
Bernard WAS handsome, wasn't he? ❤️
What a beautiful post. Poem photos, heartfelt reflection and an invitation to make community. The best one yet, Chris. ❤️
Thank you, Winona. 💚
I love your idea of pictures as poems, Chris. It echoes back to Layli Long Soldier's poem "38" in your last post when she says, "I am inclined to call this act by the Dakota warriors a poem." (Referring to how the warriors stuffed grass in the mouth of the man who denied them food and said they should eat grass.) Miigwech for expanding my conception of what makes a poem!
I can't take credit for the idea: hat tip to my friend Holly Wren Spaulding! She really rewired my ideas of what poetry is some years ago.
https://www.hollywrenspaulding.com/
But yes, Layli nails it in that reference.