Every year for many years during the dark season I’ve reread your lovely piece about the holy dark and cooking mushrooms and sipping red wine and defecting from the fluorescent lit neurosis of modernity and inhabiting our wintering. This beautiful piece feels like the imbolc symmetrical piece, about hope and dedication to emergent life and I’m so grateful to be able to find your words here today. Thank you for clearing a path for sanity and for my own dedicated writing life. Grateful. Deeply. 🙏🏼
What gives me hope is knowing that for all of us, including those who wish us harm, things never go quite according to plan. In their failures, which will be many, there is always an opening to do otherwise and differently. In the dark, look for those openings that let in the light, and when you find one put your finger in it and twist it bigger. Hope in action.
As ever your words call to the same something in me…I dont catch it every day but I love the feel of the air of our kitchen first thing where nothing, nothing human anyway, in it has stirred it up for over eight hours ..it feels different when I can catch it ..clear of us..as if it has swept up after us …and reclaimed something that with us in it goes into hiding..like ghosts and as you say into the liminal….. lasts for about three seconds..
There you are in the northern hemisphere hoping for signs of spring, as I bunker down for days with torrential, flooding summer rain, hoping for signs of the cool breeze of autumn. I lie there as we do not have autumn where I live, only the lifting of the real summer heat. It lightened my spirit as soon as I feel that breeze on my face, but it's a way off yet. It's the bluebells of the tropics.
What I need more than anything these days is hope and strength to continue on in these dark American days. These beautiful written words seep into my soul --- and give me hope and solace. Thank you, thank you.
Thank you, this was a beautiful piece of writing with which to begin the day. The arrival of snowdrops always mark for me a step towards the light and, like you, I divide and replant them to bring more the next year.
What a lovely piece - thank you very much Jeannette, as your picture of a quietly beautiful start to your day is inspiring and peaceful and just so different to all the dissonance and chaos all around us right now. To light a candle to welcome in the day sounds good to me …I have candles for the evening and at night too but candies in the morning - lovely….just what I need amidst the ugliness of the political atmosphere right now. May your light shine on…
What a lovely reminder that what we create must begin from a sense of yearning towards an arrival of something yet known. Knowing that something matters and is hoped and cared for within ourselves, our life, our view, and that is enough. That is worth observing and sharing. Thank you.
I have just a tiny clump of snowdrops in my garden and I love them. Now I'll also have a picture of the great expanse of snowdrops in your garden - a picture of hope. And Candlebells, a new word for me. So beautiful. Thank you.
Every year for many years during the dark season I’ve reread your lovely piece about the holy dark and cooking mushrooms and sipping red wine and defecting from the fluorescent lit neurosis of modernity and inhabiting our wintering. This beautiful piece feels like the imbolc symmetrical piece, about hope and dedication to emergent life and I’m so grateful to be able to find your words here today. Thank you for clearing a path for sanity and for my own dedicated writing life. Grateful. Deeply. 🙏🏼
What gives me hope is knowing that for all of us, including those who wish us harm, things never go quite according to plan. In their failures, which will be many, there is always an opening to do otherwise and differently. In the dark, look for those openings that let in the light, and when you find one put your finger in it and twist it bigger. Hope in action.
As ever your words call to the same something in me…I dont catch it every day but I love the feel of the air of our kitchen first thing where nothing, nothing human anyway, in it has stirred it up for over eight hours ..it feels different when I can catch it ..clear of us..as if it has swept up after us …and reclaimed something that with us in it goes into hiding..like ghosts and as you say into the liminal….. lasts for about three seconds..
Thanks.
I am so pleased you have returned to writing here. Your words are nourishing and inspiring all at once. Thank you.
You have captured so beautifully the heart-purpose of ritual. Thank you.
simple and eloquent. yes.
There you are in the northern hemisphere hoping for signs of spring, as I bunker down for days with torrential, flooding summer rain, hoping for signs of the cool breeze of autumn. I lie there as we do not have autumn where I live, only the lifting of the real summer heat. It lightened my spirit as soon as I feel that breeze on my face, but it's a way off yet. It's the bluebells of the tropics.
What I need more than anything these days is hope and strength to continue on in these dark American days. These beautiful written words seep into my soul --- and give me hope and solace. Thank you, thank you.
Thank you, this was a beautiful piece of writing with which to begin the day. The arrival of snowdrops always mark for me a step towards the light and, like you, I divide and replant them to bring more the next year.
‘Purr-mode’ may be my new favourite writing/thinking technique. Thank you, J x
Your writing today gives me hope, thank you
What a lovely piece - thank you very much Jeannette, as your picture of a quietly beautiful start to your day is inspiring and peaceful and just so different to all the dissonance and chaos all around us right now. To light a candle to welcome in the day sounds good to me …I have candles for the evening and at night too but candies in the morning - lovely….just what I need amidst the ugliness of the political atmosphere right now. May your light shine on…
Since a year my new phrase to hold on is: "Hope is the engine that keeps me going."
Thank you.
Beautifully said and sent out into the world. Thank you.
Beautiful - love your writing - this is perfect. Sharing to spread the hope we all need x
What a lovely reminder that what we create must begin from a sense of yearning towards an arrival of something yet known. Knowing that something matters and is hoped and cared for within ourselves, our life, our view, and that is enough. That is worth observing and sharing. Thank you.
I have just a tiny clump of snowdrops in my garden and I love them. Now I'll also have a picture of the great expanse of snowdrops in your garden - a picture of hope. And Candlebells, a new word for me. So beautiful. Thank you.