Not so long ago, I learned not to beg for eyes that will not see, nor hearts that will not open. That knowing made me better. Softer, clearer, free. Your words resonate.
A tender read and most likely even more tender to write. It is such a tender, risky, oh so familiar place, that moment where you hold your heart in your hand and stand on the precipice of hope, holding both your heart and your breath. Sometimes it stings, disappoints, hurts as we tuck our hearts back in our chests, but when it is received with open, steady arms... oh the magic! Whenever that has happened, I see another space added to my table, a space for a new member of our tribe, our community. A member whose stars align with mine. And that's such a beautiful, wholesome feeling.
Thank you for your lovely, tender words, David. I'm glad I found my way here.
My dear brave friend, that you will walk with feet and heart bare, no matter the discomfort, that you leave soft vulnerable footprints in your wake is why I love you. I don't need to tell you this because I think...I hope, you already clicked on that message way, way back somewhere up a tree admiring peckerwoods, or when you first tasted fresh trout cooked in butter in an old cast iron pan, or maybe it was in all that slimy goo at the bottom of a stinking catfish pond, I don't exactly remember but I will say it again because sometimes a little reminder of love is enough for a person feeling disillusioned by the apathy of others, I think,... I hope. 🥰
Insightful David. It’s risky but brave and many times rewarding to be vulnerable. To live in the company of wildlife gives us insight in how to show our true selves to those who answer with appreciation. Then the magic begins.
I get ignored often. I started thinking I was invisible. So I understand what you're saying.
I watched Carl Jung videos on rare personality types who see and feel more deeply. They are one percent of the world's population and the other 99 percent can't relate to the one percent people. Jung called these people Intuitive Introverts.
I am in essence very similar to a flower, give me air nourishment and sunlight, I open my petals exposing my very core, regardless . It is my nature, though sometimes I wish I only bloomed in a wild meadow , after a warm rain, just after sunrise when most humans are still a sleep. Some people write what they think people want to read, you write what your heart tells you to.
“Love is caring and kind. It sees the best in others and offers its best in response. Withholding or ignoring, making someone feel smaller… that’s not love.”🙏
This was a tender read, like walking barefoot in rough terrain. It takes courage to be vulnerable. Thank you for showing us how and trusting us with your heart.
Thank you for making time to read and for reading between the lines...
May we find ways to make sense of our sometimes inertia, our disappointments over hopes that didn't quite work out and our need take back our own power. Seeing the dynamics more clearly and saving our best for better than insult ...or apathy; it takes such willful concentration to remain balanced upon the razor's edge. It is immense work, but work we came to learn, to lean into. And in these times when meanness and cruelty are offered up, again and again as examples of leadership and incredulously, as love, as what we deserve, we may relearn to see and choose, we may reclaim, we may understand.
This beautiful, insightful offering wrapped up an ache I've been carrying around with me in soft blankets. Thank you, truly, for bathing this hard truth in light, for speaking so tenderly and also so clearly. It is a gift to know who cannot hold the weight your soul, and to not then make yourself lighter, but to seek out stronger arms.
You have such a soft power way of stating things, dear Kendall. I am most grateful for this growing awareness and appreciation as I learn more and more from your stories, the shape of the world as seen through your eyes...
Wow, thank you, David. I was thinking upon reading your last two essays about the father bird and the nest that I would very much like to walk with you and your camera in your wild spaces and see the world through your eyes. Alas, I guess that's what we're doing here, and I'm so grateful for it.
And while the sting of disinterest from people I have loved is shimmering in the air. I have learned to stand there for a moment, knowing that as I walk away there will be a choice to make. If I leave them behind, not in anger nor even hurt, in the awareness of the complete imbalance of our relationship. All the love went one way.
If I allow them to know anything of me in the future, it will only be the public facing image I hold between myself and most others.
Oh the bravehearts here, in this space! I often sense the circle of emotion that swirls over, under, and through the words; many times I have sat in silence, just feeling. Thank you for this wide open talk of what it is to open oneself, to reveal one's truth to others in writings, or talk. To be vulnerable. I am one who is never sure she is ready...I mean, writing asks so much of me, which means I ask so much of me...which means I have not posted yet... holding close my own "...sacred whisp of smoke and flame..." How does one know when it is time..?
I'm thinking about what you shared about silences, the absence of any response from one who should love. Silences can be confusing, so many unknowns....
Perhaps that is the biggest hurt possible---the vulnerability of ones heart, wide open to another---only to hear silence...
This is deep to consider: the reaction of silence to one's gift of self. Your vulnerability is, to me, warrior stuff...complexities in layers...brave, honest...worthy... inspiring.
It may also be part of the answer to your question: "How does one know when it is time?"
Somehow I have made it through several decades of adventures and never needed to wear a cast, but I have heard stories, again and again about 'the itch' that begins to appear and grow in intensity as the time for the cast to come off approaches. Passages are like that, we sense their approach, our approach toward them, well before we actually arrive. A restlessness, a 'disturbance in the force.' Fear tells you that something bad is coming. Wisdom understands that it is 'the itch;' that something is approaching, but that such passages are exactly what we came here to learn to embrace and move through. Fear would have us freeze, or run. Curiosity and joy would have us prepare for a feast.
I am so very grateful for you. May your day be kind...
Not so long ago, I learned not to beg for eyes that will not see, nor hearts that will not open. That knowing made me better. Softer, clearer, free. Your words resonate.
A tender read and most likely even more tender to write. It is such a tender, risky, oh so familiar place, that moment where you hold your heart in your hand and stand on the precipice of hope, holding both your heart and your breath. Sometimes it stings, disappoints, hurts as we tuck our hearts back in our chests, but when it is received with open, steady arms... oh the magic! Whenever that has happened, I see another space added to my table, a space for a new member of our tribe, our community. A member whose stars align with mine. And that's such a beautiful, wholesome feeling.
Thank you for your lovely, tender words, David. I'm glad I found my way here.
My dear brave friend, that you will walk with feet and heart bare, no matter the discomfort, that you leave soft vulnerable footprints in your wake is why I love you. I don't need to tell you this because I think...I hope, you already clicked on that message way, way back somewhere up a tree admiring peckerwoods, or when you first tasted fresh trout cooked in butter in an old cast iron pan, or maybe it was in all that slimy goo at the bottom of a stinking catfish pond, I don't exactly remember but I will say it again because sometimes a little reminder of love is enough for a person feeling disillusioned by the apathy of others, I think,... I hope. 🥰
Dear David, I see “that sacred wisp of smoke and flame, that magic you’ve been tending” and it is a gift that you share with us.
Insightful David. It’s risky but brave and many times rewarding to be vulnerable. To live in the company of wildlife gives us insight in how to show our true selves to those who answer with appreciation. Then the magic begins.
I get ignored often. I started thinking I was invisible. So I understand what you're saying.
I watched Carl Jung videos on rare personality types who see and feel more deeply. They are one percent of the world's population and the other 99 percent can't relate to the one percent people. Jung called these people Intuitive Introverts.
Intuitive introverts. I love that! Keep showing up. I’m grateful Patricia.
For a rare personality type, I'm encountering many Intuitive Introverts on Substack.
I see that as an extraordinary gift for all of us.🥰
Absolutely. It's our time to share ourselves with those who understand us.
Honesty is rare. You share your stories intermingled with your thoughts and your heart. Bravo for pressing forward💫
❤️
I am in essence very similar to a flower, give me air nourishment and sunlight, I open my petals exposing my very core, regardless . It is my nature, though sometimes I wish I only bloomed in a wild meadow , after a warm rain, just after sunrise when most humans are still a sleep. Some people write what they think people want to read, you write what your heart tells you to.
“Love is caring and kind. It sees the best in others and offers its best in response. Withholding or ignoring, making someone feel smaller… that’s not love.”🙏
This was a tender read, like walking barefoot in rough terrain. It takes courage to be vulnerable. Thank you for showing us how and trusting us with your heart.
You don't miss a thing, do you Julie?
Thank you for making time to read and for reading between the lines...
May we find ways to make sense of our sometimes inertia, our disappointments over hopes that didn't quite work out and our need take back our own power. Seeing the dynamics more clearly and saving our best for better than insult ...or apathy; it takes such willful concentration to remain balanced upon the razor's edge. It is immense work, but work we came to learn, to lean into. And in these times when meanness and cruelty are offered up, again and again as examples of leadership and incredulously, as love, as what we deserve, we may relearn to see and choose, we may reclaim, we may understand.
This is self-love.
Thank you. This is exactly what I needed to hear today.
I’m always so touched and left with thoughts to ponder after reading your posts.
I relish your writing and wisdom. Thank you for sharing yourself with us. 🫶🏼
Thank you, dear Vickie.
This beautiful, insightful offering wrapped up an ache I've been carrying around with me in soft blankets. Thank you, truly, for bathing this hard truth in light, for speaking so tenderly and also so clearly. It is a gift to know who cannot hold the weight your soul, and to not then make yourself lighter, but to seek out stronger arms.
You have such a soft power way of stating things, dear Kendall. I am most grateful for this growing awareness and appreciation as I learn more and more from your stories, the shape of the world as seen through your eyes...
Wow, thank you, David. I was thinking upon reading your last two essays about the father bird and the nest that I would very much like to walk with you and your camera in your wild spaces and see the world through your eyes. Alas, I guess that's what we're doing here, and I'm so grateful for it.
The dandelions keep blooming, even as they’re mowed and slighted and ignored. But look at how the horizon glows!
Bless you and your gentle offerings. 🙏
Wow!
Gonna carry this one in my pocket all day...
"And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am." - Rilke
Speaking truth David.
Thanks Bob.
And while the sting of disinterest from people I have loved is shimmering in the air. I have learned to stand there for a moment, knowing that as I walk away there will be a choice to make. If I leave them behind, not in anger nor even hurt, in the awareness of the complete imbalance of our relationship. All the love went one way.
If I allow them to know anything of me in the future, it will only be the public facing image I hold between myself and most others.
Betrayals such as this cannot be undone.
There are many stories hinted at here, Tey...
I'm so grateful for your heartfelt comment and the risk you take in even speaking its name...
Oh the bravehearts here, in this space! I often sense the circle of emotion that swirls over, under, and through the words; many times I have sat in silence, just feeling. Thank you for this wide open talk of what it is to open oneself, to reveal one's truth to others in writings, or talk. To be vulnerable. I am one who is never sure she is ready...I mean, writing asks so much of me, which means I ask so much of me...which means I have not posted yet... holding close my own "...sacred whisp of smoke and flame..." How does one know when it is time..?
I'm thinking about what you shared about silences, the absence of any response from one who should love. Silences can be confusing, so many unknowns....
Perhaps that is the biggest hurt possible---the vulnerability of ones heart, wide open to another---only to hear silence...
This is deep to consider: the reaction of silence to one's gift of self. Your vulnerability is, to me, warrior stuff...complexities in layers...brave, honest...worthy... inspiring.
My brave friend...
you risk so much to weigh in with such honesty.
That is courage.
It may also be part of the answer to your question: "How does one know when it is time?"
Somehow I have made it through several decades of adventures and never needed to wear a cast, but I have heard stories, again and again about 'the itch' that begins to appear and grow in intensity as the time for the cast to come off approaches. Passages are like that, we sense their approach, our approach toward them, well before we actually arrive. A restlessness, a 'disturbance in the force.' Fear tells you that something bad is coming. Wisdom understands that it is 'the itch;' that something is approaching, but that such passages are exactly what we came here to learn to embrace and move through. Fear would have us freeze, or run. Curiosity and joy would have us prepare for a feast.
I am so very grateful for you. May your day be kind...