So well observed, felt, and described, as always Susie. In answer to your query, yes I am dealing with the onslaught similarly. One day, raging. Not able to sleep for the terrible events and the helpless feeling our world is being irretrievably harmed & corrupted. Another day, aware that what I cannot effect, today, I must let go and try to bring love and light and beauty to my self and others in my world.
Ah Susan! I try very hard to remember that the joy and the suffering are happening in the same instant. Still, there is a feeling of being liquified in a blender. Everything Everywhere All At Once.
I need emoji's to respond...I am a visual artist and have difficulty expressing how your writing stimulates me and the gratitude I have from knowing you and reading your essays...
Hands in Pray...Heart...Jumping for Joy and Kisses
I'm very grateful for your reading of my essays and for your deep response, Jasmine. Isn't it wonderful how diverse we are in our gifts? If I am faced with a piece of paper and a pencil, my hand will freeze in place if I am asked to draw. But if the prompt has anything to do with words, the life-force pours out.
"Like waiting for spring". That really tracks for me. Every winter I look at the bare brittle trees and the grey ground (no snow here this year in our little ski resort area!) and I can't believe that everything isn't dead. But sure enough, everything is just dormant. More than that, it's doing a LOT that I can't see. Every spring is a miracle to me. Every bud that blossoms, every blade of grass. SOoooo much happens in the waiting time. As I've said for years now, "Waiting is not a passive act"
For a long while, I had an image in my mind of floating on a canoe of sorts down a river with all of my loved ones waving from both sides. I haven't thought about that in some years but it feels like it needs to be revived.
This reminds me of Annie Dillard's devastating descriptions in her work, Total Eclipse. Your piece, however, anchors an astronomical event in the terrorizing ICE murders, our democracy being pulled apart before our eyes. One gapes beyond words, aghast at human events seen through an astronomic/ geopolitical lens.
So well observed, felt, and described, as always Susie. In answer to your query, yes I am dealing with the onslaught similarly. One day, raging. Not able to sleep for the terrible events and the helpless feeling our world is being irretrievably harmed & corrupted. Another day, aware that what I cannot effect, today, I must let go and try to bring love and light and beauty to my self and others in my world.
Ah Susan! I try very hard to remember that the joy and the suffering are happening in the same instant. Still, there is a feeling of being liquified in a blender. Everything Everywhere All At Once.
I need emoji's to respond...I am a visual artist and have difficulty expressing how your writing stimulates me and the gratitude I have from knowing you and reading your essays...
Hands in Pray...Heart...Jumping for Joy and Kisses
I'm very grateful for your reading of my essays and for your deep response, Jasmine. Isn't it wonderful how diverse we are in our gifts? If I am faced with a piece of paper and a pencil, my hand will freeze in place if I am asked to draw. But if the prompt has anything to do with words, the life-force pours out.
So beautifully written Susie. Thank you for reminding me of the light that really is always there. Even when we can’t see it.
I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that's one of the essential teachings.
"Like waiting for spring". That really tracks for me. Every winter I look at the bare brittle trees and the grey ground (no snow here this year in our little ski resort area!) and I can't believe that everything isn't dead. But sure enough, everything is just dormant. More than that, it's doing a LOT that I can't see. Every spring is a miracle to me. Every bud that blossoms, every blade of grass. SOoooo much happens in the waiting time. As I've said for years now, "Waiting is not a passive act"
Waiting has been by greatest spiritual challenge...but I think I'm making progress.
Susie, this is a beautiful description! I think it’s one of the best I’ve read. Thank you, Daryl
It's good to hear from you, Daryl. We all feel so fragile.
"You can’t force this awareness, this chorus of hellos and goodbyes. You have to just allow it."
Such a simple truth and so well expressed. The giving up and the allowing needs constant practice.
For a long while, I had an image in my mind of floating on a canoe of sorts down a river with all of my loved ones waving from both sides. I haven't thought about that in some years but it feels like it needs to be revived.
This reminds me of Annie Dillard's devastating descriptions in her work, Total Eclipse. Your piece, however, anchors an astronomical event in the terrorizing ICE murders, our democracy being pulled apart before our eyes. One gapes beyond words, aghast at human events seen through an astronomic/ geopolitical lens.