But there's also this feeling under my skin like an allergic reaction every day, every headline. Meanness, stupidity, greed and fear, they are shots of poison under my skin.
The trees. The sky. The jays picking out seeds from my winter garden. I'm certain they feel it too.
That description of it all being an allergic reaction is perfect. I was trying to figure out that feeling this morning. I think you've got it. And I agree with both you and Chris--I'm sure the rest of life feels it, too.
Hard agree with Chris and Nia here, Susan. Allergic reaction. That's the feeling. I'm ok, and there's beauty everywhere. And also that constant underlying itch.
Your writing about eagles soaring, nutcracker’s tweeting, and cheeseburgers grilling improved my despondent sprit. I have so much sadness in my life, and you remind me of the beauty that is present in this world. Employees who are friends, a visit from a son, frost on branches all signal that there is good in the world.
At the age of 55 I'm (predictably) trying to make up for lost time with regard to: music practice, voice lessons, much-needed self-compassion work. And my frequent mental refrain is: WHY BOTHER. I try to keep in mind that I really don't know how much I will progress (or even if I will). The important point is the daily practice and engagement with something other than the dead past.
I don't have as much time left as I did years ago when I first took voice lessons, for example, so I can use the time left to me to focus on it as best I can.
I think anything we do as a practice is good for us, Amy. We're about the same age, and it seems we have similar thoughts about time and accomplishment. But terrifying as it seems, we may still have another 50 years or so to make things happen!
Work that grows out of love is the best work. And, yes, for those of us in our fifties, it's easy to get caught up in all the time that we have lived. But we still likely have decades left. Let's make good use of it.
When the going gets tough take a walk. Early in the shutdown I would just walk downtown to circle all the places that hold a part of my soul, then walk home along the river to sit home alone and read.
"Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it." — Søren Kierkegaard
I want to hear a little more about your 10-minute practice. I love that. Trying to settle into our new place and remake my writing life after a long frozen period of mourning (almost two years) after our son died by suicide. I have lots of words inside. 10 minutes first thing? Is there a routine? Is there a method? I'd love to hear -- PM me if you prefer. Thanks.
So the ten minute thing started on November 1st, 2019. I had this book for a couple years and asked my friend Mara, who runs Fact & Fiction, if she'd be interested in trying to work through it:
We work together three days/week, and we started doing it over coffee at the shop next door to the bookstore before our day started. We arbitrarily just decided to write for ten minutes at a pop. We didn't always follow the prompts; in fact probably more often than not we didn't. On days we weren't together we would often coordinate a time, usually 9am, to write "together" as well. But weekends and stuff we would both just write whenever. We managed to go the entire year without missing a day. That's a lot of poems, and a lot of bad ones, but also some good ones. Plus it's just a good practice.
When the year rolled over we wanted to keep going and have, only now we are using this book for prompts, which actually works surprisingly well:
Honestly, I never considered myself a poet until people started calling me one. I'm still not so certain. But I like this practice as something that compliments the other stuff I do. I'm sure I have a manuscript's worth of good (per my perspective) poems that I will probably self publish at some point. Fourteen full journals is no joke. Mara uses bigger journals and I think she filled something like seven or eight herself.
I bought a dated diary this year for the first time in decades. It's only 5x8, and one page a day about ... nothing? the garden, the pets, the color of the sky ... has been a great way to transition from work to writing, from work to reading, from work to thinking.
You are at the top of my list of people I will contact when it comes to this, Holly. I can't think of anyone who likely gets where I'm coming from better than you.
I love this, Chris. I try to hike once a week with my woman friend, we go on some long ass hikes. On one of them recently I felt practically giddy, it was so nice to be out and away in nature and with a friend, I nearly ended up feeling guilty. But no, it was exactly what I needed at that time and I need to pay attention to that.
I often feel giddy myself. By the way, I still hope to join you on one of those long ass hikes someday, Victoria. We've only been talking about doing so for about three years....
thanks to whomever it was that I follow who posted this, I really enjoy your writing and look forward to subscribing/reading more. cheers, even amidst Our Shared Anguish.
Thanks for using a different fuel for that fire than your notebooks and keep inspiring this forum. The fire is good and so are your words. Your closing words on this post and the Kierkegaard quote in this forum give me a spark of hope. "So, let's". I couldn't agree more -- take care.
Thank you for expressing so beautifully what so many of us are clearly feeling. In some ways it feels like the most important things right now are finding these moments of life's vivid rewards, and regular reminders that we're not alone. Reading this felt like a good friend showing up at my door and pulling me out for a walk when I was in a dark place. Thank you <3
This is a great description of the impact of COVID and even better, a reminder to get out more. Thank you! I don't have an itch. I usually wake up happy enough and walk out amongst the pines if its not raining too hard, but at some point every day, I collapse, overwhelmed with what COVID has done to us all, and even more so with what I see coming for my kids. Getting them out in the beauty of the world has become so much more difficult.
I can totally relate to feeling lost this winter after not being able to experience this summer. These Alaskan winters are rough. Hanging in where I can
Thanks for once again a (very) interesting read, one that makes me think about Life in general. I have been writing a bit lately, about my recent experience with death and parenthood. It feels like it's time to put down into words what has been inside me for some years now. (how time goes by!) It's part of a more global thinking about who I am, what I want to pass on to my child, the moral principals and so on. I have not set a specific time of the week (less the day) for my writing sessions. I don't know if I should be. Should I force it, or wait for it to come? I don't kno, I'm experimenting. Sometimes I sit and think I'll write for about one or two hours, and I sit still for just 30 minutes. Sometimes, I spend most of the day writing.
Anyways, thanks again for your words. Hope my English wasn't too bad (writing from France.)
Your English is perfect and I'm thrilled to have you here, writing from France.
I tend to lean away from any ideas of "should." I do think a regular, scheduled practice can help, though. I believe there is a cosmic relationship with creativity, and one needs to show up at a specified time and place so the energy knows where to find you, and inhabit you. Mary Oliver has indicated a similar view, and she certainly knows better than I do. Even that blank 30 minutes can be important. I often get better insights to whatever I'm working on after stepping away from it, while it still inhabits my consciousness, even if I'm not completely aware of it. But at the same time, if all you can do is find time as you can, that's still wonderful.
This vegetarian right here is craving that cheeseburger, man.
I laughed out loud at the Jesus bit. I imagine Jesus like that a lot: a regular guy with a strong moral compass, who gets depressed sometimes and swears sometimes, and deeply loves his friends and also humanity for some reason, and feels an overwhelming sense of disappointment in the General State of Government and Religion, Et Al. I can relate to that.
The way I do it is to eat veggie most of the time, and if there's really good local and humanely-raised meat on offer for a special occasion, I get meat.
Well, I do that b/c my partner is a reformed carnivore. It helps him enormously. I could mostly exist without meat, personally. Except burgers. Everybody told me when I went full veggie that what I would miss the most is bacon. Nope. It's burgers.
I wake to beauty.
But there's also this feeling under my skin like an allergic reaction every day, every headline. Meanness, stupidity, greed and fear, they are shots of poison under my skin.
The trees. The sky. The jays picking out seeds from my winter garden. I'm certain they feel it too.
They DO feel it. And an allergic reaction is a perfect way to describe it. Keep waking to beauty!
That description of it all being an allergic reaction is perfect. I was trying to figure out that feeling this morning. I think you've got it. And I agree with both you and Chris--I'm sure the rest of life feels it, too.
Hard agree with Chris and Nia here, Susan. Allergic reaction. That's the feeling. I'm ok, and there's beauty everywhere. And also that constant underlying itch.
Your writing about eagles soaring, nutcracker’s tweeting, and cheeseburgers grilling improved my despondent sprit. I have so much sadness in my life, and you remind me of the beauty that is present in this world. Employees who are friends, a visit from a son, frost on branches all signal that there is good in the world.
I don't mind occasional sadness and melancholy. We just need to do what we can to not live there all the time. Thanks for sharing, Sandy.
At the age of 55 I'm (predictably) trying to make up for lost time with regard to: music practice, voice lessons, much-needed self-compassion work. And my frequent mental refrain is: WHY BOTHER. I try to keep in mind that I really don't know how much I will progress (or even if I will). The important point is the daily practice and engagement with something other than the dead past.
I don't have as much time left as I did years ago when I first took voice lessons, for example, so I can use the time left to me to focus on it as best I can.
Thanks for writing this, Chris.
I think anything we do as a practice is good for us, Amy. We're about the same age, and it seems we have similar thoughts about time and accomplishment. But terrifying as it seems, we may still have another 50 years or so to make things happen!
Work that grows out of love is the best work. And, yes, for those of us in our fifties, it's easy to get caught up in all the time that we have lived. But we still likely have decades left. Let's make good use of it.
Thanks...
When the going gets tough take a walk. Early in the shutdown I would just walk downtown to circle all the places that hold a part of my soul, then walk home along the river to sit home alone and read.
"Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it." — Søren Kierkegaard
I want to hear a little more about your 10-minute practice. I love that. Trying to settle into our new place and remake my writing life after a long frozen period of mourning (almost two years) after our son died by suicide. I have lots of words inside. 10 minutes first thing? Is there a routine? Is there a method? I'd love to hear -- PM me if you prefer. Thanks.
So the ten minute thing started on November 1st, 2019. I had this book for a couple years and asked my friend Mara, who runs Fact & Fiction, if she'd be interested in trying to work through it:
https://www.factandfictionbooks.com/book/9781492706533
We work together three days/week, and we started doing it over coffee at the shop next door to the bookstore before our day started. We arbitrarily just decided to write for ten minutes at a pop. We didn't always follow the prompts; in fact probably more often than not we didn't. On days we weren't together we would often coordinate a time, usually 9am, to write "together" as well. But weekends and stuff we would both just write whenever. We managed to go the entire year without missing a day. That's a lot of poems, and a lot of bad ones, but also some good ones. Plus it's just a good practice.
When the year rolled over we wanted to keep going and have, only now we are using this book for prompts, which actually works surprisingly well:
https://www.factandfictionbooks.com/book/9781680512823
Honestly, I never considered myself a poet until people started calling me one. I'm still not so certain. But I like this practice as something that compliments the other stuff I do. I'm sure I have a manuscript's worth of good (per my perspective) poems that I will probably self publish at some point. Fourteen full journals is no joke. Mara uses bigger journals and I think she filled something like seven or eight herself.
I bought a dated diary this year for the first time in decades. It's only 5x8, and one page a day about ... nothing? the garden, the pets, the color of the sky ... has been a great way to transition from work to writing, from work to reading, from work to thinking.
Nothing and everything, I imagine, right? I've become a staunch proponent of journaling.
Nothing and Everything is a real solid book title...
Let me know if you need another reader for the poetry manuscript. I'd be glad to have a look when you're ready.
You are at the top of my list of people I will contact when it comes to this, Holly. I can't think of anyone who likely gets where I'm coming from better than you.
I wonder if there are bad poems or just inelegant ones.
If not bad, I've written my share of awkward and gangly ones, that's for sure, heh.
And thanks for this. I felt the chill and the delight.
I love this, Chris. I try to hike once a week with my woman friend, we go on some long ass hikes. On one of them recently I felt practically giddy, it was so nice to be out and away in nature and with a friend, I nearly ended up feeling guilty. But no, it was exactly what I needed at that time and I need to pay attention to that.
I often feel giddy myself. By the way, I still hope to join you on one of those long ass hikes someday, Victoria. We've only been talking about doing so for about three years....
Geez I would love that!
thanks to whomever it was that I follow who posted this, I really enjoy your writing and look forward to subscribing/reading more. cheers, even amidst Our Shared Anguish.
Thanks! Happy to have you here.
Thanks for using a different fuel for that fire than your notebooks and keep inspiring this forum. The fire is good and so are your words. Your closing words on this post and the Kierkegaard quote in this forum give me a spark of hope. "So, let's". I couldn't agree more -- take care.
Thank you, Jane.
Thank you for expressing so beautifully what so many of us are clearly feeling. In some ways it feels like the most important things right now are finding these moments of life's vivid rewards, and regular reminders that we're not alone. Reading this felt like a good friend showing up at my door and pulling me out for a walk when I was in a dark place. Thank you <3
Cheers to mountain drives, eagles below you, field notes escaping the burn barrel, and delicious cheeseburgers. Hugs.
This is a great description of the impact of COVID and even better, a reminder to get out more. Thank you! I don't have an itch. I usually wake up happy enough and walk out amongst the pines if its not raining too hard, but at some point every day, I collapse, overwhelmed with what COVID has done to us all, and even more so with what I see coming for my kids. Getting them out in the beauty of the world has become so much more difficult.
Thank you, Lee. I can relate. Hang in there. I believe the effort is still worth it.
I can totally relate to feeling lost this winter after not being able to experience this summer. These Alaskan winters are rough. Hanging in where I can
That's the best you can do, Adam. Strength to you!
Thanks for once again a (very) interesting read, one that makes me think about Life in general. I have been writing a bit lately, about my recent experience with death and parenthood. It feels like it's time to put down into words what has been inside me for some years now. (how time goes by!) It's part of a more global thinking about who I am, what I want to pass on to my child, the moral principals and so on. I have not set a specific time of the week (less the day) for my writing sessions. I don't know if I should be. Should I force it, or wait for it to come? I don't kno, I'm experimenting. Sometimes I sit and think I'll write for about one or two hours, and I sit still for just 30 minutes. Sometimes, I spend most of the day writing.
Anyways, thanks again for your words. Hope my English wasn't too bad (writing from France.)
Your English is perfect and I'm thrilled to have you here, writing from France.
I tend to lean away from any ideas of "should." I do think a regular, scheduled practice can help, though. I believe there is a cosmic relationship with creativity, and one needs to show up at a specified time and place so the energy knows where to find you, and inhabit you. Mary Oliver has indicated a similar view, and she certainly knows better than I do. Even that blank 30 minutes can be important. I often get better insights to whatever I'm working on after stepping away from it, while it still inhabits my consciousness, even if I'm not completely aware of it. But at the same time, if all you can do is find time as you can, that's still wonderful.
This article is a save. I just tried to do this but the memory stick in my Smith Corona is out of space.
Like Jesus and Jobe, buggered again.
Steve Roth
Utah
This vegetarian right here is craving that cheeseburger, man.
I laughed out loud at the Jesus bit. I imagine Jesus like that a lot: a regular guy with a strong moral compass, who gets depressed sometimes and swears sometimes, and deeply loves his friends and also humanity for some reason, and feels an overwhelming sense of disappointment in the General State of Government and Religion, Et Al. I can relate to that.
I ignored my I-should-be-eating-vegetarian guilt for this one. It's a constant struggle.
The way I do it is to eat veggie most of the time, and if there's really good local and humanely-raised meat on offer for a special occasion, I get meat.
Well, I do that b/c my partner is a reformed carnivore. It helps him enormously. I could mostly exist without meat, personally. Except burgers. Everybody told me when I went full veggie that what I would miss the most is bacon. Nope. It's burgers.
Thank you Chris. I'm glad you're feeling better and that it wasn't Covid (which has hit our family--non-fatally twice already).
It's no fun teetering on the brink with family like that, I'm sure. I'm happy everyone is hanging in there.