This is so beautiful and poignant to read. Thank you for bringing us into your dilemma, and the reality of the cruel bargain that when we take what's needed, much can be taken...
I had written a long reply (this is my second go) and then the screen crashed. I take this as a sign to say less. To just sit quietly with you in that question of what will we sacrifice for an unknown future....
It takes such courage to ask, let alone answer, when you're feeling parched. But here you are, here we are...xxx
Thank you for your lovely words. And for being here. We are here, so very true. I think the answer is mountains, mountains dogs and mountains. I think you would agree. Xxx
Stunning, as always. I wish I had more words, but I'm running dry at the moment, too, and amidst one of the driest winters on record here. I'm in a different place, staring down very different sacrifices, but feel my own struggles in your words, too. The anticipatory grief of it all, all the what ifs, and the desire for knowns and certainty. The way the lack of them always seems to crack us open and send us into the underworld looking for answers that don't really exist. I can understand why the old stories talk about Gods and people making shady bargains to feel like they had some control over these things. Here if you ever wanna chat more about it all. Love x
Hey Cassie, thank you as always, it is lovely to hear from you and yes I agree very much about looking for answers. I would love to hear your news and how the course is going. Catch up something this summer (winter?!) ? Xxx
Yes I'd love to, although I'm finding my evenings a little blocked up this month already - where is the time going!? This dual-time zone existence is so tough to navigate sometimes, although to be honest, my upcoming cross-country move doesn't help too much either! A September catch-up would be great though! I'll message you :) xx
Bel, this is such a heart-rending read. Your words are beautiful, so much in here that I can feel deeply. The connection you make between our land’s drought and your own creative drought is profound - there’s something here about drawing in to one’s centre when threat comes, as you describe the grass and your own body’s response to the medication. I take heart that there can be some return from that position: that some rain falls and some words flow, when the time comes. Xx
Thank you Lynne, thank you for being so kind. Regardless of my creative drought I have loved watching you find your stride. Especially the book, it really is something special, so is the little community and friendship we have created. X
Thank you! I LOVE our little community, when I think of writing I get a warm glow knowing I get to talk about it with talented women who understand the joys and challenges of writing. Very precious. See you in September! Xx
This is so beautiful and poignant to read. Thank you for bringing us into your dilemma, and the reality of the cruel bargain that when we take what's needed, much can be taken...
I had written a long reply (this is my second go) and then the screen crashed. I take this as a sign to say less. To just sit quietly with you in that question of what will we sacrifice for an unknown future....
It takes such courage to ask, let alone answer, when you're feeling parched. But here you are, here we are...xxx
Thank you for your lovely words. And for being here. We are here, so very true. I think the answer is mountains, mountains dogs and mountains. I think you would agree. Xxx
I definitely agree. Always. And some cold water thrown in...xx
Stunning, as always. I wish I had more words, but I'm running dry at the moment, too, and amidst one of the driest winters on record here. I'm in a different place, staring down very different sacrifices, but feel my own struggles in your words, too. The anticipatory grief of it all, all the what ifs, and the desire for knowns and certainty. The way the lack of them always seems to crack us open and send us into the underworld looking for answers that don't really exist. I can understand why the old stories talk about Gods and people making shady bargains to feel like they had some control over these things. Here if you ever wanna chat more about it all. Love x
Hey Cassie, thank you as always, it is lovely to hear from you and yes I agree very much about looking for answers. I would love to hear your news and how the course is going. Catch up something this summer (winter?!) ? Xxx
Yes I'd love to, although I'm finding my evenings a little blocked up this month already - where is the time going!? This dual-time zone existence is so tough to navigate sometimes, although to be honest, my upcoming cross-country move doesn't help too much either! A September catch-up would be great though! I'll message you :) xx
Perfect, no hurry x
Bel, this is such a heart-rending read. Your words are beautiful, so much in here that I can feel deeply. The connection you make between our land’s drought and your own creative drought is profound - there’s something here about drawing in to one’s centre when threat comes, as you describe the grass and your own body’s response to the medication. I take heart that there can be some return from that position: that some rain falls and some words flow, when the time comes. Xx
Thank you Lynne, thank you for being so kind. Regardless of my creative drought I have loved watching you find your stride. Especially the book, it really is something special, so is the little community and friendship we have created. X
Thank you! I LOVE our little community, when I think of writing I get a warm glow knowing I get to talk about it with talented women who understand the joys and challenges of writing. Very precious. See you in September! Xx