Thank you for sharing! One of my joys of middle age is finding that things I thought were awful when I was younger seem pretty great now. And vice versa!
Congrats on adding running & strength training into the mix. Sometimes exercising my body feels like the only agency I have. Well, that, and writing words. Keep it up!
Work, write, stay busy, put one foot in front of the other, make something, bake bread, cook, draw, paint, work with wood, play with your grandchildren, walk in the woods. Any of these things will help with the sense of relative helplessness and sense of doom many share in these times. And those choices are good anytime you feel uncertain, depressed, without direction. Writing helps us find our feelings, talk to ourselves and sometimes others. Approach honesty if we are lucky, practiced or good. Your directness and candor always help to remember these things. Thanks
Yes. Just keep moving. I know a couple of folks who will keep moving out of the country if Fanta Face takes over. For the rest of us? I am with you. See you out there!
Counting whale ribs on the steps of the Capital sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon. There is so much to get lost in here, but for the moment as we all tread water and hold our collective breath I am thankful for the art that you make and share, a bright star in a turbulent sky. Great piece.
Thank you for sharing! One of my joys of middle age is finding that things I thought were awful when I was younger seem pretty great now. And vice versa!
So true! Here's to middle age 😄
The essay is inspiring for me. Thanks for sharing.
<3
Loved this essay. Such a great reminder that we have our own agency, even when things are really tough.
I've been reading a lot of poetry lately. I loved this one that was featured on @poetryisnotaluxury
STILL
by Marc Alan Di Martino
There are still birds, still things coming to life
in unexpected ways. Still nights and days.
Nocturnal, diurnal. Circadian rhythms
scratching an itch at the back of the throat.
Still family, still friends. Still love
slapping you silly with its rubber tongue,
salt that makes your stomach sing a psalm,
palettes of rusted foliage, stray bees
in November, still buzzing in the lavender.
From Poets Respond
Rattle, November 10, 2020.
So, so good!
Love this essay, Julia! Well done. 👏🏼👏🏼🙌🏼
Thank you, friend! 💜
Oh man, I needed this. Thank you Julia! I was just remarking on the fact that it has been 8 years of this painful crap.
And by the way, I’m now that old lady, bobbing and weaving across my swim lane.…And am thinking about (old-people’s) strength training. ;)
Glad it brought you some levity. And save me a lane--I'll bring the 5 pound weights :)
Congrats on adding running & strength training into the mix. Sometimes exercising my body feels like the only agency I have. Well, that, and writing words. Keep it up!
Work, write, stay busy, put one foot in front of the other, make something, bake bread, cook, draw, paint, work with wood, play with your grandchildren, walk in the woods. Any of these things will help with the sense of relative helplessness and sense of doom many share in these times. And those choices are good anytime you feel uncertain, depressed, without direction. Writing helps us find our feelings, talk to ourselves and sometimes others. Approach honesty if we are lucky, practiced or good. Your directness and candor always help to remember these things. Thanks
Thank you Julia!
Yes. Just keep moving. I know a couple of folks who will keep moving out of the country if Fanta Face takes over. For the rest of us? I am with you. See you out there!
Counting whale ribs on the steps of the Capital sounds like a great way to spend an afternoon. There is so much to get lost in here, but for the moment as we all tread water and hold our collective breath I am thankful for the art that you make and share, a bright star in a turbulent sky. Great piece.