This is a beautiful post. I can sense your sadness interwoven with your hope. And the new setting there will be just as beautiful to walk in every morning. I’m Celebrating that we finally had .6 in of rain last night after two months with nothing. I had a sleepless night and so the comfort of that gentle rain all night long kept me going in spite of pain, looking forward to morning.
Oh, Kathryn, I am so sorry that you had a night of pain and sleeplessness! Thank heavens (or goddesses or whomever) for the blessings of that rain though. Both to comfort you and to nourish the land there. May you find ease in breathing in that gift of moisture....
We shall not be overcome. Especially now. Love this potent reminder.
I like to bring in pieces of nature indoors in every season. I noticed on my walk yesterday the sounds of fall—the crunching leaves. What a wonderful crackling sound I could make with the instrument of my feet, and the lift and sounds of the wind.
Gracias, Marlena! I love your description of the crackling sound of the leaves under your feet. And your description of feet as the instrument--that's a whole new perspective on our interactions with the environment as we walk. And like you, Julian of Norwich's words were the reminder I needed. (Also, they're not the ones usually quoted from her, and I like that too.) Blessings!
This piece feels like an act of service in so many ways. I appreciate how grounded it feels next to how unmoored this time feels. Your perspective and the Julian of Norwich quotation are good things for us to hold.
Thank you for this thought, Christina. I appreciate it especially coming from you. And "grounded" and "unmoored" are the perfect words to describe this time. I so hope that Julian of Norwich's words reach through the centuries with truth and power. Hang in there.... Blessings!
Indeed, dear Susan, we shall not be overcome. This change of season is definitely fraught with the anxiety of the election. Your wonderful overview of anxiety, altars and festivals is the right message for right now. Thank you!
Liz, Thank you for your comment! It's amazing that any of us can focus at all with the election and the potential aftermath hovering out there. But here we are, and on we go, doing our mite to bring light and love to this world, no matter what....
Thank you, Cherie! I just happened to be out walking the river trail at the right moment, and was fortunate enough to point my iPhone at the glorious color in the clouds and the cottonwood trees. I'm glad the words live up to the photo. :)
Thank you for the mention, Susan. "Perhaps most importantly, I can honor all that I love by continuing to work to add to the ocean of light and love in this world, helping overcome the ocean of darkness and fear." This is one of the best gifts we can all offer.
Sue, Thanks for your post with the clear explanation of the festivals and their evolution. It was great to be able to refer to that instead of trying to reinvent it. :) And thanks for your re-stack of that quote. I value your thinking and writing greatly.
We experience the thinner veil in many ways at this time, I think.
Returning to an intact house in a difficult place in the world finds me glad and grieving. Driving along the devastation along the French Broad River brought tears, yet joining numerous locals in a hometown brewery along the river, just reopened, made us glad to see the community turn out to support this place.
Lisa, I am glad for you that your house is intact, and I hear you about feeling opposite emotions in the midst of the devastation. Being back in NC will bring a seesaw of emotions for a long time, I expect: gratitude and relief, shock and horror, and joy as well. Thank heavens for a supportive community turning out for the hometown brewery's reopening, and for the support from all around. Be gentle with yourself!
Thank you for the Julian of Norwich quote, "You shall not be overcome." Strong words for anxious times. I love the altars that you made with thoughtfulness and consciousness, and as a maker of altars, I've begun to note how altars seem to spring up spontaneously -- an arrangement at the end of a counter: flowers, a laughing Buddha and a small candle. A chipped tea cup and a bear fetish next to a heart shaped stone brought back from a stream. There was a book years ago, that was the precursor to "The Divine Secrets of the YaYa sisterhood" (Rebecca Wells). It's called "Little Altars Everywhere." I love that phrase, because sometimes I think we make spontaneous and surprising altars without realizing it. From Latin - the word altar means to lift up. Your chosen quote was a kind of altar, a lifting up of what needs attention, contemplation and reverence -- "You Shall Not Be Overcome!" Thank you for this heart-felt post and the grace and goodness that you bring into so many lives.
Dear Stephanie, "Little Altars Everywhere" may go on my list of the best book titles ever. And how inspiring to think of our happenstance ordering of things that inspire us as altars, the "lifting up" of beauty and memory and inspiration. The word reverence is perfect for this idea, and thank you for reminding me of it. Reverence is part of what I feel for this world, battered as it is, and for the best of humanity. I am going to lift up my faith in the power of light and love to overcome the ocean of darkness and fear. I bought a special candle to burn through these festivals and these anxious days. I think of that tiny flame adding to the other tiny flames from around the country and the world, their power multiplying each other to cast light on this dark time. Blessings to you....
Amen, Susan. Reverence is absolutely perfect for the idea of altars and lifting up beauty, inspiration and memory. And I have to chuckle, because I have the same feeling about the title “Little Altars Everywhere” — it is among the very best titles ever! Big hugs and write on . . .
Lori, Thank you for reading my piece in the welter of Substack voices, and for this kind comment. I believe in the power of words to help us birth the world we dream of, and to help us weather times harder than we ever imagined. Humans have the capacity to love each other and this numinous earth, and to me, that is our superpower. We just have to use it. Every day. Blessings!
As I wrote near the end of one of my books, (The San Luis Valley: Sand Dunes and Sandhill Cranes, an extended meditation on home):
"In comparison with other species, humans are not particularly impressive. We have no fins to propel us from stream to ocean and back again, no wings to power us thousands of feet into the air, no jaws strong enough to crack deer vertebrae in one bite, no idea of how to metamorphose from caterpillar to butterfly, much less to wait out inhospitable decades as a seed. We have big brains, but they can be as much curse as blessing, leading us to imagine ourselves superior to the rest of life. What we do best comes not from our heads but our hearts, from an ineffable impulse that resists logic and definitions and calculation: love."
In a state of anxiety last night, I listened to Lawrence O"Donnell quoting that "optimism is a choice." As apparent as that is, I had to give it serious consideration and once again, choose optimism. Yesterday New Mexico had its first snowstorm. I sat and watched the flurries settle down on the cacti, the juniper and piñon pines. Yes, a sadness in seeing the flowers disappear until spring but a joy in the winter world.
I agree, Phyllis: optimism is indeed a choice, and like you, I choose it. I also think Julian of Norwich's words are predictive for the general course of human direction: "You shall not be overcome." May she also be right about this election! I'm glad that you had snow, and I hope it was enough to bring some much-needed moisture. We've had some good snow here too--it's already melted at this elevation, but this morning when the clouds lifted, the peaks were solidly white. Blessings and a hug to you.
And a big hug to you, Susan. The snow has melted here, too, but we are due for more this week! Yes, let's put our optimistic energy into the universe for the direction of our home, planet earth.
Thank you, Jenny. I can't change the country, but what I can do is remind us all that our superpower is taking care of our own inner light so we can shine it as brightly as possible for our friends, families and communities. So that we can help with healing and not giving way to fear. So we can love this numinous earth and all with whom we share the planet, as best we can. Be well and take heart from kindred spirits. Blessings.
This is a beautiful post. I can sense your sadness interwoven with your hope. And the new setting there will be just as beautiful to walk in every morning. I’m Celebrating that we finally had .6 in of rain last night after two months with nothing. I had a sleepless night and so the comfort of that gentle rain all night long kept me going in spite of pain, looking forward to morning.
Oh, Kathryn, I am so sorry that you had a night of pain and sleeplessness! Thank heavens (or goddesses or whomever) for the blessings of that rain though. Both to comfort you and to nourish the land there. May you find ease in breathing in that gift of moisture....
We shall not be overcome. Especially now. Love this potent reminder.
I like to bring in pieces of nature indoors in every season. I noticed on my walk yesterday the sounds of fall—the crunching leaves. What a wonderful crackling sound I could make with the instrument of my feet, and the lift and sounds of the wind.
Gracias, Marlena! I love your description of the crackling sound of the leaves under your feet. And your description of feet as the instrument--that's a whole new perspective on our interactions with the environment as we walk. And like you, Julian of Norwich's words were the reminder I needed. (Also, they're not the ones usually quoted from her, and I like that too.) Blessings!
This piece feels like an act of service in so many ways. I appreciate how grounded it feels next to how unmoored this time feels. Your perspective and the Julian of Norwich quotation are good things for us to hold.
Thank you for this thought, Christina. I appreciate it especially coming from you. And "grounded" and "unmoored" are the perfect words to describe this time. I so hope that Julian of Norwich's words reach through the centuries with truth and power. Hang in there.... Blessings!
Indeed, dear Susan, we shall not be overcome. This change of season is definitely fraught with the anxiety of the election. Your wonderful overview of anxiety, altars and festivals is the right message for right now. Thank you!
Liz, Thank you for your comment! It's amazing that any of us can focus at all with the election and the potential aftermath hovering out there. But here we are, and on we go, doing our mite to bring light and love to this world, no matter what....
Dear Susan, the first photo in this post is stunning! I would hang it over my fireplace.
Thank you for all your wonderful words as well!
Thank you, Cherie! I just happened to be out walking the river trail at the right moment, and was fortunate enough to point my iPhone at the glorious color in the clouds and the cottonwood trees. I'm glad the words live up to the photo. :)
❤️
I'm sending love and support to your battered part of the Appalachians, Jeanne. Blessings!
Thank you for the mention, Susan. "Perhaps most importantly, I can honor all that I love by continuing to work to add to the ocean of light and love in this world, helping overcome the ocean of darkness and fear." This is one of the best gifts we can all offer.
Sue, Thanks for your post with the clear explanation of the festivals and their evolution. It was great to be able to refer to that instead of trying to reinvent it. :) And thanks for your re-stack of that quote. I value your thinking and writing greatly.
Thank you Susan for this. It is well to remember those who have gone before.
The rain did not keep the hundreds of kids who stopped by my landlord's house tonight, but our rainy season is now in full swing.
Have a blessed light filled weekend.
I'm glad the rainy season has finally begun there, and I hope your landlord enjoyed the parade of trick-or-treaters, rain and all!
Enjoy feeling the land absorb much-needed moisture....
We experience the thinner veil in many ways at this time, I think.
Returning to an intact house in a difficult place in the world finds me glad and grieving. Driving along the devastation along the French Broad River brought tears, yet joining numerous locals in a hometown brewery along the river, just reopened, made us glad to see the community turn out to support this place.
Lisa, I am glad for you that your house is intact, and I hear you about feeling opposite emotions in the midst of the devastation. Being back in NC will bring a seesaw of emotions for a long time, I expect: gratitude and relief, shock and horror, and joy as well. Thank heavens for a supportive community turning out for the hometown brewery's reopening, and for the support from all around. Be gentle with yourself!
Thank you for the Julian of Norwich quote, "You shall not be overcome." Strong words for anxious times. I love the altars that you made with thoughtfulness and consciousness, and as a maker of altars, I've begun to note how altars seem to spring up spontaneously -- an arrangement at the end of a counter: flowers, a laughing Buddha and a small candle. A chipped tea cup and a bear fetish next to a heart shaped stone brought back from a stream. There was a book years ago, that was the precursor to "The Divine Secrets of the YaYa sisterhood" (Rebecca Wells). It's called "Little Altars Everywhere." I love that phrase, because sometimes I think we make spontaneous and surprising altars without realizing it. From Latin - the word altar means to lift up. Your chosen quote was a kind of altar, a lifting up of what needs attention, contemplation and reverence -- "You Shall Not Be Overcome!" Thank you for this heart-felt post and the grace and goodness that you bring into so many lives.
Dear Stephanie, "Little Altars Everywhere" may go on my list of the best book titles ever. And how inspiring to think of our happenstance ordering of things that inspire us as altars, the "lifting up" of beauty and memory and inspiration. The word reverence is perfect for this idea, and thank you for reminding me of it. Reverence is part of what I feel for this world, battered as it is, and for the best of humanity. I am going to lift up my faith in the power of light and love to overcome the ocean of darkness and fear. I bought a special candle to burn through these festivals and these anxious days. I think of that tiny flame adding to the other tiny flames from around the country and the world, their power multiplying each other to cast light on this dark time. Blessings to you....
Amen, Susan. Reverence is absolutely perfect for the idea of altars and lifting up beauty, inspiration and memory. And I have to chuckle, because I have the same feeling about the title “Little Altars Everywhere” — it is among the very best titles ever! Big hugs and write on . . .
Thank you for this inspiring message at a time when darkness hangs over us!
Lori, Thank you for reading my piece in the welter of Substack voices, and for this kind comment. I believe in the power of words to help us birth the world we dream of, and to help us weather times harder than we ever imagined. Humans have the capacity to love each other and this numinous earth, and to me, that is our superpower. We just have to use it. Every day. Blessings!
Yes, yes, yes! I agree wholeheartedly! 💚
As I wrote near the end of one of my books, (The San Luis Valley: Sand Dunes and Sandhill Cranes, an extended meditation on home):
"In comparison with other species, humans are not particularly impressive. We have no fins to propel us from stream to ocean and back again, no wings to power us thousands of feet into the air, no jaws strong enough to crack deer vertebrae in one bite, no idea of how to metamorphose from caterpillar to butterfly, much less to wait out inhospitable decades as a seed. We have big brains, but they can be as much curse as blessing, leading us to imagine ourselves superior to the rest of life. What we do best comes not from our heads but our hearts, from an ineffable impulse that resists logic and definitions and calculation: love."
Blessings for sure! Thank you
Thank you for reading and commenting, Lynn. Be well and shine your light brightly!
In a state of anxiety last night, I listened to Lawrence O"Donnell quoting that "optimism is a choice." As apparent as that is, I had to give it serious consideration and once again, choose optimism. Yesterday New Mexico had its first snowstorm. I sat and watched the flurries settle down on the cacti, the juniper and piñon pines. Yes, a sadness in seeing the flowers disappear until spring but a joy in the winter world.
I agree, Phyllis: optimism is indeed a choice, and like you, I choose it. I also think Julian of Norwich's words are predictive for the general course of human direction: "You shall not be overcome." May she also be right about this election! I'm glad that you had snow, and I hope it was enough to bring some much-needed moisture. We've had some good snow here too--it's already melted at this elevation, but this morning when the clouds lifted, the peaks were solidly white. Blessings and a hug to you.
And a big hug to you, Susan. The snow has melted here, too, but we are due for more this week! Yes, let's put our optimistic energy into the universe for the direction of our home, planet earth.
Beautiful words and a beautiful walk and sunrise in the making. Thank you.
Thank you, Jenny. I can't change the country, but what I can do is remind us all that our superpower is taking care of our own inner light so we can shine it as brightly as possible for our friends, families and communities. So that we can help with healing and not giving way to fear. So we can love this numinous earth and all with whom we share the planet, as best we can. Be well and take heart from kindred spirits. Blessings.
A wonderful reminder to stay true to our inner beacon. Blessings to you also.