No wonder you can talk to the whales and see inside the walls of old houses—you bring that nurturing, song-filled energy to everything. It lives through you now. How fortunate you are to have had such a family and such a childhood!
I was hiking with a friend the other day who recounted how her elderly mother, in her mid-seventies, scaled a cliff the locals have now named after her. To have had such a mother! I see clearly how that woman shaped my friend into the strong force she is now, in her own old age. I've been thinking a lot about this lately: who might I have been, given a different mother?
Thanks Jillian. That's such a rich question! I can't wait to read what you write about it. For what it's worth, you strike me as someone who came into this world fully formed in many ways. But what do I know? How can we know anything about anyone, really? It's just us making up stories all day long about ourselves and each other, for better or worse. Human beings are so funny. I like that about us.
Rebecca- I love the way you ended this piece: “What I remember is the way singing together solved everything. I remember how beautiful those voices were, how happy I was when we sat together in that old room, in that house that was built when witches lived in the woods, will o’ wisps appeared by the dunes, and wolves roamed the island howling their one true note, calling to each other again and again, over and over, until wild joy became the night sky.” Something about the series of sentences you strung together really made sense. I appreciate this.
Love this! And your giant heart! 💚 Moon dancing is the best — how freeing and wild it can be. And isn’t it cool that the word “lunatic” derives from “luna” aka “the moon”?! 🌕
Yes! My mother was a psych nurse and she always said that her work got very active on a full moon. I feel it in myself when the moon is full—I always want to get a little wild. Do you?
“Being right and being understood are such different things.” Truth! but not one that’s always easier to remember. ;)
Ilove that your cousin whispers from her thoughts to yours about doing something wild. I love that you sing off key and kiss everyone. And I love that singing together solves everything.
Oh, and I love that the whales hear the song and that this is when they love humans best. There’s a whale in my most recent post and I thought of you and Julie Gabrieli when I wrote of her, as I associate both of your writings with these beautiful sea creatures. ❤️🐋
My granddaughter and I would often moon dance together, and I still do it now that she has moved away. It's a chance to connect to the universe in joy (as many things we did as children are).
Love and joy pulsate from this piece, Rebecca, rising like evening mist from your words, curling around me, slipping into my hair and heart, my cheeks moist. Moist from the fog of love or my own silent tears? I'm not sure, but I am fully enraptured. You've woven your magic in the sweetest way - again! Sending big love right back to you, dear one!
No wonder you can talk to the whales and see inside the walls of old houses—you bring that nurturing, song-filled energy to everything. It lives through you now. How fortunate you are to have had such a family and such a childhood!
I was hiking with a friend the other day who recounted how her elderly mother, in her mid-seventies, scaled a cliff the locals have now named after her. To have had such a mother! I see clearly how that woman shaped my friend into the strong force she is now, in her own old age. I've been thinking a lot about this lately: who might I have been, given a different mother?
Thank you for sharing your family with us!
Thanks Jillian. That's such a rich question! I can't wait to read what you write about it. For what it's worth, you strike me as someone who came into this world fully formed in many ways. But what do I know? How can we know anything about anyone, really? It's just us making up stories all day long about ourselves and each other, for better or worse. Human beings are so funny. I like that about us.
Rebecca- I love the way you ended this piece: “What I remember is the way singing together solved everything. I remember how beautiful those voices were, how happy I was when we sat together in that old room, in that house that was built when witches lived in the woods, will o’ wisps appeared by the dunes, and wolves roamed the island howling their one true note, calling to each other again and again, over and over, until wild joy became the night sky.” Something about the series of sentences you strung together really made sense. I appreciate this.
Hi, Thalia, Thanks so much! That part was REALLY fun to write. I’m glad you liked it.
SO lovely. I love when it shifts to the murder! I can feel the beating heart of the house with all that music and so many voices. Nice job!
Their giant hearts that couldn't even fit in the kitchen!
Thanks, Emily! Yes!
Beautiful. I love the rhythm of this one, and the way you bring it to a close.
Thanks Amalia. This one was a complete joy to write, although I did spend a fair amount of time on the last sentence. Thank you for noticing!
Your whale is so wise! And music makes the difference, doesn’t it? Thanks for the painting and the words.
Thanks, Mary Kate!
Gorgeous.
Thank you, Rebecca!
Gorgeous writing. I love this, I feel as though I am there.
Thank you so much Laura! It would have been fun if you were there, I'm sure!
Love this! And your giant heart! 💚 Moon dancing is the best — how freeing and wild it can be. And isn’t it cool that the word “lunatic” derives from “luna” aka “the moon”?! 🌕
Yes! My mother was a psych nurse and she always said that her work got very active on a full moon. I feel it in myself when the moon is full—I always want to get a little wild. Do you?
Absolutely! Last week was so EXTRA!
What a beautiful story. I could hear the harmony.
Thanks, Jennifer!
“Being right and being understood are such different things.” Truth! but not one that’s always easier to remember. ;)
Ilove that your cousin whispers from her thoughts to yours about doing something wild. I love that you sing off key and kiss everyone. And I love that singing together solves everything.
Oh, and I love that the whales hear the song and that this is when they love humans best. There’s a whale in my most recent post and I thought of you and Julie Gabrieli when I wrote of her, as I associate both of your writings with these beautiful sea creatures. ❤️🐋
Thanks, Holly! Yes, I loved that post and loved your response to that whale. "Sister!" That is so right. I also think she gave you some healing.
Lovely!!!
Thanks, Sharon!
Every word. YES. I landed right in the center of this world and your family and the moment.
My granddaughter and I would often moon dance together, and I still do it now that she has moved away. It's a chance to connect to the universe in joy (as many things we did as children are).
Love and joy pulsate from this piece, Rebecca, rising like evening mist from your words, curling around me, slipping into my hair and heart, my cheeks moist. Moist from the fog of love or my own silent tears? I'm not sure, but I am fully enraptured. You've woven your magic in the sweetest way - again! Sending big love right back to you, dear one!