Oh Susie, this is just beautiful. I can feel the different phases of life in your writing here and the end is just so gorgeous. "I can feel the certainty draining out of me. Meeting the day with no plan is part of my education in unknowing. It’s a great luxury and sometimes it feels like sitting in a theater audience before the play begins. I’m expectant. I wait for the parting of the curtain, the lifting of the veil, and suddenly there it is, the music." I also feel the alone-ness, and the liminality. I love liminal spaces and places too. Thank you for this!
I'm especially attached to the encounters with the woman in the park and the man in the grocery store. I've always been a connoisseur of chance encounters.
Yes! I loved your telling of these two serendipitous meetings and your telling of how you had envisioned sunny days where more would be possible. It left me wanting more of those stories from you. ❤️
Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I just used the word stories which was confusing. I've got a head cold and I'm not 100% with it today. ;) I love your essays!
I find myself staying close to friends and helping in my community. By the way, Carmen’s leaving Minneapolis. Sold her house and when she sells her condo, she’s off to Chicago where she has a niece and nephew. She’ll keep her place in PR.
The impulse is definitely to stay close to home, take care of oneself. I'm selfishly sorry that Carmen is leaving. We have a phone call planned for today.
Really good. I specially relate to the feeling of expansiveness—no place to be, no plan to be with anyone today. Sometimes it feels wonderfully free, that expansiveness. Other times, it feels just plain lonely, just me and my monkey mind.
Thank you. It's never clear when I begin if in the end it will make any sense. I do appreciate the people I run into randomly who become part of my story.
How lovely that you welcome the certainty draining out of you. There is, it seems, a very deep, quiet well in you. And on another note, I love both your essays and your stories.
'Meeting the day with no plan' ---What a good way to open the door to the unexpected and a welcoming remedy for the chokehold of time. That last sentence of yours says it all. Thank you!
Oh Susie, this is just beautiful. I can feel the different phases of life in your writing here and the end is just so gorgeous. "I can feel the certainty draining out of me. Meeting the day with no plan is part of my education in unknowing. It’s a great luxury and sometimes it feels like sitting in a theater audience before the play begins. I’m expectant. I wait for the parting of the curtain, the lifting of the veil, and suddenly there it is, the music." I also feel the alone-ness, and the liminality. I love liminal spaces and places too. Thank you for this!
I'm especially attached to the encounters with the woman in the park and the man in the grocery store. I've always been a connoisseur of chance encounters.
Yes! I loved your telling of these two serendipitous meetings and your telling of how you had envisioned sunny days where more would be possible. It left me wanting more of those stories from you. ❤️
Are you saying less essay-like pieces, more stories?
Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I just used the word stories which was confusing. I've got a head cold and I'm not 100% with it today. ;) I love your essays!
Please take good care of yourself...S
🤣
Me, too—sticking close to home except for our annual June trip to Hornby Island to see our daughter.
I think Carmen will be happier in Chicago.
Just called her as planned and got a message in Spanish that I couldn't understand. I guess I'll email.
I find myself staying close to friends and helping in my community. By the way, Carmen’s leaving Minneapolis. Sold her house and when she sells her condo, she’s off to Chicago where she has a niece and nephew. She’ll keep her place in PR.
The impulse is definitely to stay close to home, take care of oneself. I'm selfishly sorry that Carmen is leaving. We have a phone call planned for today.
Really good. I specially relate to the feeling of expansiveness—no place to be, no plan to be with anyone today. Sometimes it feels wonderfully free, that expansiveness. Other times, it feels just plain lonely, just me and my monkey mind.
I'm just trying to stay out of trouble. You know, rest a lot. It's so hard out there. We all need a retreat.
So lovely
Thank you. It's never clear when I begin if in the end it will make any sense. I do appreciate the people I run into randomly who become part of my story.
How lovely that you welcome the certainty draining out of you. There is, it seems, a very deep, quiet well in you. And on another note, I love both your essays and your stories.
Thank you! I let myself meander in this one.
Love this!
Thanks, Sue. So good to hear from you.
'Meeting the day with no plan' ---What a good way to open the door to the unexpected and a welcoming remedy for the chokehold of time. That last sentence of yours says it all. Thank you!
Much appreciated, Mary. It's aspirational...but we have to start somewhere. Love your phrase "the chokehold of time."