Lost is exactly what I fell without Bill physically present. I’m okay, still alive, still working, still tending the garden, still caring for children, grandkids, and pets. But the purpose of these activities is no longer obvious. The center is gone. I’ll figure it out. Stopping and paying attention, and giving myself the space to just 'be', helps. And your thoughts shared here help’s, too.
I am a new reader but Martha’s writing touched me because I feel the same but it is the soul presence that has evaporated slowly and every 2 months I see the outside of a fragile husband who hardly recognizes me . I too am still alive but all we shared is not understood except when I am in nature in the PNW!
Good morning, Genene. I'm so pleased to meet you, if only within a fleeting venue, such as this. Thank you for making time and taking the risk of sharing a bit of your heartbreak and manner of trying to navigate the foggy minefield of a beloved's slow evaporation. I'm so sorry for your unfolding loss. We lost our 'mom' to this slow 'dissolve' and though my dad was as brave and devoted as I can imagine anyone being, it broke my heart to watch him try to find his bearings within that cloud of loss. It is brave work, and lonely. Wishing you unexpected pockets of magic, an especially brave and attentive little bird who is drawn to your presence, a perfectly bejeweled spider web in the mists of dawn, the ancient cries of cranes and geese flying high overhead, making their way southward for winter.
As John Dunbar (Dances With Wolves), recalled of a conversation with Chief Ten Bears in the movie/book of the same name: " But in the end, he only smiled and talked of simple pleasures. He reminded me that at his age, a good fire was better than anything. Ten Bears was an extraordinary man."
May the fire of your 'still alive' soul find you and warm you, again and again when the cold rushes in...
Ohhh, Martha I'm just achey for you. Bill was such a gem. I cannot imagine the challenge of trying to find a new center to things in a world where his magic exists now only in memory. Big hug my friend.
The hardest part is that this is a challenge I don’t want to take on. But I will, balancing my needs and wishes with honoring Bill's passions. We were each other’s second spouse and we each brought to our relationship commitment to make it work. When one person dies, the other is still on the road we shared. There is no longer a compass so memory needs to guide the way.
There is so much to love in this post, David. "...one learns intimately how much fear costs energetically..." and "a hundred foot stretch of impossible looking rock face can teach you a great deal about fear and about breaking down impossible seeming tasks into a series of calmly considered moves." Absolutely lovely!
I do hope, though, that you feel less lost soon. It can be an uncomfortable feeling even when you have the rich resources and wisdom you share in this post.
I promise you, I am. Feeling less lost. Sometimes the next step is to simply state what is true in that moment, then walk around what you've admitted considering it from multiple angles. Your very kind note was part of the difference. Thank you.
yes oh yes… “state what is true in that moment” and all moments. beautifully written truth in this essay David. Although my own lost times come with a tendency to berate myself for feeling such, I cherish the gift of such evolving ‘lost’ times. They always offer me something I need to understand, accept, hear, and express.
You wrote: "Although my own lost times come with a tendency to berate myself for feeling such, I cherish the gift of such evolving ‘lost’ times. They always offer me something I need to understand, accept, hear, and express. "
Every word, that 'ring' of truth. And slowly that tendency to berate grows weaker and weaker, a mere distraction.
I'm unable to articulate how this piece resonated with me.
Suffice it to say I think it might be in the energy. It's a lot to work through, and these days it's difficult for me to separate being lost and feeling indifferent and trusting in hope, if that makes any sense? ☺️
My dear friend, you describe 'the swirl' most eloquently. It makes perfect sense.
And I think you're right about the energy. I'm sensing a shift, profound, as if finally we are ready to move beyond some of our old, collective logjams, make amends, acknowledge long-denied truths and step forward into a more honest space. That would be much.
Can it be that we are sensing a thing about to happen?
I am always, always delighted to hear from you. May your day be kind and may you have some increased sense of just how wonderful you are...
I have been thinking about your essay, David, since reading it two days ago. I wanted to comment then, but couldn't find the words. Thank you is a good start, for your honesty, your evocative words and pictures, your vulnerability and courage. Life is such a strange and fascinating journey, and one thought that has anchored me over the years of seeking and finding, discovering and learning, is that the journey is the destination. This inspire me to notice everything along the way, to linger and interact, stop and listen, as you are. It also helps knowing that we are all on this journey together, incarnated on this tiny, exquisite lump of rock hurtling through space. Great to meet you, David.
Good morning, Josie. I'm so touched by your thoughtful note. Thank you.
You wrote: "...one thought that has anchored me over the years of seeking and finding, discovering and learning, is that the journey is the destination. This inspire me to notice everything along the way, to linger and interact, stop and listen..."
I'm right there with you in this regard, and bow in recognition of a fellow seeker/traveller.
May something lovely and unexpected find you today.
I’m starting from the end of your post. The story of the wrangler and the mule . Absolutely, “ T’was a thing of beauty to behold.” And it is a story. Spoken in the silence of the golden light. Wisdom of youth and one handsome mule, that knows his handler well. I could read an entire novel based on that photo with the front cover of your Sunrise .I’ve been fortunate in life to only have experienced, lost , in a physical sense. More than a handful of times, and usually involving a crisp cold winter day. Backcountry skiing , through forests high up in the mountains . Ever searching for that untracked virgin powder. Years have taught me how to be good at that. Usually consisting of keeping my mouth shut, focusing on one foot in front of the other when nothing else matters.
Luckily, I survived them all, and each grand adventure defines me anew. But I have dear friends who have in the past, and will continue to experience, being lost. So, I will file your story under ‘pay it forward’ and have it readily available for a friend in need. Thanking you in advance for your contribution to a life.
As an amateur astronomer I appreciate your phrasing of “Same moon. Different stars.” The Pleiades and Orion are rising earlier and earlier these days. I love noticing the sky slowly turn through the seasons, a promise of what’s to come.
And what a gorgeous portrait of the wrangler and her mule you took!
Stay on the path with your eyes and ears open and I have no doubt you’ll find your way again soon.
David I so relate to these words, it's funny how often people are feeling the same things but you never know until someone says it out loud. I'm grateful for this and wow, these photos! I love the moon and stars especially.
"... it's funny how often people are feeling the same things but you never know until someone says it out loud."
I'm so grateful that you left a note. Thank you. And yes, I'm hearing from many people that they are feeling something a little lost, a little off balance recently. Which makes me wonder if in fact it is us collectively sensing an energetic change, an era about to dawn.
More on that, later.
"I love the moon and stars especially."
The moon image was taken that same evening as the two deer, as I recall, just twenty or so minutes later. I dropped it into that starry sky image, that self-portrait made a few years back while camping in Death Valley. The stars were mind boggling that night and I did my best to stand very still, to capture myself within the sea of them...
David there is much I can relate to in your words here....I've been reading a book about the power of language to anchor us in a place--"Landmarks" by Robert McFarlane--and its premise echoes your reflections. As a Christian, my worldview informs my way of interpreting life, and your confidence in the anchors of God's creation to ground you I think is a universal experience, if we'd but be open to feel it.
Getting lost and found with you was such a heartwarming experience. It reminded me that while we all have our own journeys to navigate, we’re never truly alone, even when it feels like it. 💞
Lost is exactly what I fell without Bill physically present. I’m okay, still alive, still working, still tending the garden, still caring for children, grandkids, and pets. But the purpose of these activities is no longer obvious. The center is gone. I’ll figure it out. Stopping and paying attention, and giving myself the space to just 'be', helps. And your thoughts shared here help’s, too.
I am a new reader but Martha’s writing touched me because I feel the same but it is the soul presence that has evaporated slowly and every 2 months I see the outside of a fragile husband who hardly recognizes me . I too am still alive but all we shared is not understood except when I am in nature in the PNW!
Good morning, Genene. I'm so pleased to meet you, if only within a fleeting venue, such as this. Thank you for making time and taking the risk of sharing a bit of your heartbreak and manner of trying to navigate the foggy minefield of a beloved's slow evaporation. I'm so sorry for your unfolding loss. We lost our 'mom' to this slow 'dissolve' and though my dad was as brave and devoted as I can imagine anyone being, it broke my heart to watch him try to find his bearings within that cloud of loss. It is brave work, and lonely. Wishing you unexpected pockets of magic, an especially brave and attentive little bird who is drawn to your presence, a perfectly bejeweled spider web in the mists of dawn, the ancient cries of cranes and geese flying high overhead, making their way southward for winter.
As John Dunbar (Dances With Wolves), recalled of a conversation with Chief Ten Bears in the movie/book of the same name: " But in the end, he only smiled and talked of simple pleasures. He reminded me that at his age, a good fire was better than anything. Ten Bears was an extraordinary man."
May the fire of your 'still alive' soul find you and warm you, again and again when the cold rushes in...
Namasté
Ohhh, Martha I'm just achey for you. Bill was such a gem. I cannot imagine the challenge of trying to find a new center to things in a world where his magic exists now only in memory. Big hug my friend.
The hardest part is that this is a challenge I don’t want to take on. But I will, balancing my needs and wishes with honoring Bill's passions. We were each other’s second spouse and we each brought to our relationship commitment to make it work. When one person dies, the other is still on the road we shared. There is no longer a compass so memory needs to guide the way.
Feel, not fell.
There is so much to love in this post, David. "...one learns intimately how much fear costs energetically..." and "a hundred foot stretch of impossible looking rock face can teach you a great deal about fear and about breaking down impossible seeming tasks into a series of calmly considered moves." Absolutely lovely!
I do hope, though, that you feel less lost soon. It can be an uncomfortable feeling even when you have the rich resources and wisdom you share in this post.
Dearest Sarah,
I promise you, I am. Feeling less lost. Sometimes the next step is to simply state what is true in that moment, then walk around what you've admitted considering it from multiple angles. Your very kind note was part of the difference. Thank you.
yes oh yes… “state what is true in that moment” and all moments. beautifully written truth in this essay David. Although my own lost times come with a tendency to berate myself for feeling such, I cherish the gift of such evolving ‘lost’ times. They always offer me something I need to understand, accept, hear, and express.
Thank you for sharing truth. Thank you
Good morning, Alix,
You wrote: "Although my own lost times come with a tendency to berate myself for feeling such, I cherish the gift of such evolving ‘lost’ times. They always offer me something I need to understand, accept, hear, and express. "
Every word, that 'ring' of truth. And slowly that tendency to berate grows weaker and weaker, a mere distraction.
I'm unable to articulate how this piece resonated with me.
Suffice it to say I think it might be in the energy. It's a lot to work through, and these days it's difficult for me to separate being lost and feeling indifferent and trusting in hope, if that makes any sense? ☺️
My dear friend, you describe 'the swirl' most eloquently. It makes perfect sense.
And I think you're right about the energy. I'm sensing a shift, profound, as if finally we are ready to move beyond some of our old, collective logjams, make amends, acknowledge long-denied truths and step forward into a more honest space. That would be much.
Can it be that we are sensing a thing about to happen?
I am always, always delighted to hear from you. May your day be kind and may you have some increased sense of just how wonderful you are...
Much appreciated, David. Yes, something (like a flower bulb) is faintly afoot,...and the current is much friendlier...
I feel it too, Kathleen.
We are ready, finally to step into the light.
I have been thinking about your essay, David, since reading it two days ago. I wanted to comment then, but couldn't find the words. Thank you is a good start, for your honesty, your evocative words and pictures, your vulnerability and courage. Life is such a strange and fascinating journey, and one thought that has anchored me over the years of seeking and finding, discovering and learning, is that the journey is the destination. This inspire me to notice everything along the way, to linger and interact, stop and listen, as you are. It also helps knowing that we are all on this journey together, incarnated on this tiny, exquisite lump of rock hurtling through space. Great to meet you, David.
Good morning, Josie. I'm so touched by your thoughtful note. Thank you.
You wrote: "...one thought that has anchored me over the years of seeking and finding, discovering and learning, is that the journey is the destination. This inspire me to notice everything along the way, to linger and interact, stop and listen..."
I'm right there with you in this regard, and bow in recognition of a fellow seeker/traveller.
May something lovely and unexpected find you today.
It is wonderful to meet you too.
Beautiful piece David. Sometimes you gotta have faith in something, you know, Faith, Hope and Love.
Every single road you take brings you to this moment, your only moment, a gift.
So, as they say, no matter where you go, there you are.
(also, great shot of the wrangler and mule)
Thanks Joe, once again.
I’m starting from the end of your post. The story of the wrangler and the mule . Absolutely, “ T’was a thing of beauty to behold.” And it is a story. Spoken in the silence of the golden light. Wisdom of youth and one handsome mule, that knows his handler well. I could read an entire novel based on that photo with the front cover of your Sunrise .I’ve been fortunate in life to only have experienced, lost , in a physical sense. More than a handful of times, and usually involving a crisp cold winter day. Backcountry skiing , through forests high up in the mountains . Ever searching for that untracked virgin powder. Years have taught me how to be good at that. Usually consisting of keeping my mouth shut, focusing on one foot in front of the other when nothing else matters.
Luckily, I survived them all, and each grand adventure defines me anew. But I have dear friends who have in the past, and will continue to experience, being lost. So, I will file your story under ‘pay it forward’ and have it readily available for a friend in need. Thanking you in advance for your contribution to a life.
As an amateur astronomer I appreciate your phrasing of “Same moon. Different stars.” The Pleiades and Orion are rising earlier and earlier these days. I love noticing the sky slowly turn through the seasons, a promise of what’s to come.
And what a gorgeous portrait of the wrangler and her mule you took!
Stay on the path with your eyes and ears open and I have no doubt you’ll find your way again soon.
Wow, that was so beautiful, I got a little weepy over my first coffee. And the photos-my goodness! I see them And feel them.
Good morning, Sally, and thank you.
"I see them And feel them."
Six magical words read while the coffee is brewing. A lovely start to the day.
Thank you.
David I so relate to these words, it's funny how often people are feeling the same things but you never know until someone says it out loud. I'm grateful for this and wow, these photos! I love the moon and stars especially.
"... it's funny how often people are feeling the same things but you never know until someone says it out loud."
I'm so grateful that you left a note. Thank you. And yes, I'm hearing from many people that they are feeling something a little lost, a little off balance recently. Which makes me wonder if in fact it is us collectively sensing an energetic change, an era about to dawn.
More on that, later.
"I love the moon and stars especially."
The moon image was taken that same evening as the two deer, as I recall, just twenty or so minutes later. I dropped it into that starry sky image, that self-portrait made a few years back while camping in Death Valley. The stars were mind boggling that night and I did my best to stand very still, to capture myself within the sea of them...
I was definitely not feeling lost that night.
Thank you…….
Sometimes I get lost too.
Like when I get all analytical and miss the poignancy of what is being shared.
“Finding grace within the swirl is ever so much more important than running from it.” 🙏
A wave of peace washes over me when I read your lovely words; thank you.
Your note is a gift, JJ.
Of course you're welcome.
David there is much I can relate to in your words here....I've been reading a book about the power of language to anchor us in a place--"Landmarks" by Robert McFarlane--and its premise echoes your reflections. As a Christian, my worldview informs my way of interpreting life, and your confidence in the anchors of God's creation to ground you I think is a universal experience, if we'd but be open to feel it.
Thank you, Jody.
I can relate…
Thanks for sharing
Getting lost and found with you was such a heartwarming experience. It reminded me that while we all have our own journeys to navigate, we’re never truly alone, even when it feels like it. 💞
Purest gold, my friend. This is beautiful.