You never cease to amaze me, the way you can sometimes tease out and sometimes pull out the true feelings that seem to seep out of my bones, the murmurrings of my soul that I could never put into words alone. You can do it with your writing and your markmaking and painting. I appreciate your gift. ...and at 70 I still sit like the heron watching. It seems that there are things in a person's nature that can't be changed but have to be accepted with as much grace as can be summoned.
I love this: "It seems that there are things in a person's nature that can't be changed, but have to be accepted with as much grace as can be summoned." Acceptance of reality is the only way to begin, right? I truly believe that that very thing alone is an opening for more, peace, ease...grace. Thank you, dear Janet.
I keep trying to find words to honor this writing, this sharing, this lesson, this truth. I can only stand in awe of your wisdom, your heart opening, the light you hold to see your way and that lights ours—and above all the spirit that moves you and the pen you hold to write so beautifully. 🙏
Nature often encapsulates the emotional states we experience and you’re so good at making those connections. You write with the ease of the otter gliding in the water and with the observant wisdom of the blue heron as it watches and listens in the reeds. Thank you for this evocative piece of your souls wondering.
beholden to no human, not even the one I wed on this land, not even the one whose betrayal is hard to fathom. and yet. and yet i am beholden to the watershed as i search for the million year old great blue heron who shows me where the river holds her headwaters.
I loved that interview with Ocean Voung and have listened to many more recently after reading his new novel. (really like the interview from the Barnes and Nobles on youtube)
I am definitely one for coasting the edges, observing and never fully “jumping in”,but that is ok with me. It intuitively feels right in my skin. In other ways it can feel like a lock ( you want to jump in but can’t for whatever reason). We don’t come in this world with a blank slate, but a plethora of genetic history ancestral history and we are born into authentic circumstances we must learn to navigate. What kind of bird are you? Do we grow more rigid or more fluid with age? Are we ever too old to be unraveled?
Though it seems as if I will always be this way, I’ve learned to never say never. We are complex beings with no knowledge of where we are from or where we are going. Things happen in life that are like keys turning in a lock and suddenly we are broken open and show up in an entirely different way. On the other hand maybe some things are meant to lie dormant in this life, because they need to rest or other traits need to develop more fully. The longer you live the less you know.
So much to think about. I have to admit I’m stuck on what kind of bird are you. I have no idea. I need to think about this. Do you know what kind of bird you are? I love this question.
I find this one of the most true, fascinating, and strangely comforting things I do know: the longer we live, the less we know.
Thank you, dear Kathy. I’ll be texting you about the birds when l’ve thought about it a while ✨🫶🏼
Thank you, Kateri. Your words help me in this troubled time. Our grandson Patrick left yesterday and Aidan arrived on the plane Patrick left on. They are such wonderful young men and I worry about their future so much
“A sentinel at the threshold.” We are aren’t we, waiting in the reeds for the fear to lift, because fearlessness involves risk with deathly consequences. Yet, we find those small steps inch us ever closer to the threshold of flight.
Stunning piece Kateri, your words, your photography and your art. I am smitten.
You never cease to amaze me, the way you can sometimes tease out and sometimes pull out the true feelings that seem to seep out of my bones, the murmurrings of my soul that I could never put into words alone. You can do it with your writing and your markmaking and painting. I appreciate your gift. ...and at 70 I still sit like the heron watching. It seems that there are things in a person's nature that can't be changed but have to be accepted with as much grace as can be summoned.
I love this: "It seems that there are things in a person's nature that can't be changed, but have to be accepted with as much grace as can be summoned." Acceptance of reality is the only way to begin, right? I truly believe that that very thing alone is an opening for more, peace, ease...grace. Thank you, dear Janet.
I keep trying to find words to honor this writing, this sharing, this lesson, this truth. I can only stand in awe of your wisdom, your heart opening, the light you hold to see your way and that lights ours—and above all the spirit that moves you and the pen you hold to write so beautifully. 🙏
Thank you, Kitty, for reading and for being here. 🫶🏼
Nature often encapsulates the emotional states we experience and you’re so good at making those connections. You write with the ease of the otter gliding in the water and with the observant wisdom of the blue heron as it watches and listens in the reeds. Thank you for this evocative piece of your souls wondering.
Thank you, Sian. So grateful for your presence here. 🙏🏼
Your thoughts and words put my mind and being such joy, peacefulness, and happiness. You are a treasured gift God graced me with.
Thank you for your comment, Mom. This one was hard to write, and I needed to say some difficult things. 🤍
i am born anew at 70.
beholden to no human, not even the one I wed on this land, not even the one whose betrayal is hard to fathom. and yet. and yet i am beholden to the watershed as i search for the million year old great blue heron who shows me where the river holds her headwaters.
Your work matters so deeply. You help us see. Make connections. It is the best kind of "beholden to."
I loved that interview with Ocean Voung and have listened to many more recently after reading his new novel. (really like the interview from the Barnes and Nobles on youtube)
I am definitely one for coasting the edges, observing and never fully “jumping in”,but that is ok with me. It intuitively feels right in my skin. In other ways it can feel like a lock ( you want to jump in but can’t for whatever reason). We don’t come in this world with a blank slate, but a plethora of genetic history ancestral history and we are born into authentic circumstances we must learn to navigate. What kind of bird are you? Do we grow more rigid or more fluid with age? Are we ever too old to be unraveled?
Though it seems as if I will always be this way, I’ve learned to never say never. We are complex beings with no knowledge of where we are from or where we are going. Things happen in life that are like keys turning in a lock and suddenly we are broken open and show up in an entirely different way. On the other hand maybe some things are meant to lie dormant in this life, because they need to rest or other traits need to develop more fully. The longer you live the less you know.
So much to think about. I have to admit I’m stuck on what kind of bird are you. I have no idea. I need to think about this. Do you know what kind of bird you are? I love this question.
I find this one of the most true, fascinating, and strangely comforting things I do know: the longer we live, the less we know.
Thank you, dear Kathy. I’ll be texting you about the birds when l’ve thought about it a while ✨🫶🏼
Thank you, Kateri. Your words help me in this troubled time. Our grandson Patrick left yesterday and Aidan arrived on the plane Patrick left on. They are such wonderful young men and I worry about their future so much
I’m so glad you have this time with them. It’s so so important. I hear you. It’s how I feel, too. 🤍
I love this- the flow, the juxtaposition of poetry and prose, the pauses in the writing - the truths you share. Beautiful!
Thank you, Anne. It always feels so vulnerable, doesn’t it? And then a comment like yours brings so much warmth!
“A sentinel at the threshold.” We are aren’t we, waiting in the reeds for the fear to lift, because fearlessness involves risk with deathly consequences. Yet, we find those small steps inch us ever closer to the threshold of flight.
Stunning piece Kateri, your words, your photography and your art. I am smitten.
I’m so grateful. And I love that you picked up on that line. Sentinel was just the right word. Always on alert. Thank you so much, Alegria ✨
Quiet pause, presence.
Heron, her. Sentinel, she.
Stare, stay still, then see?
...
From brace to embrace,
perhaps peace is ease, trust, swim.
Carried by current.
So beautiful. Thank you 🙏🏼✨🤍