Children! So concise and accurate! When my son was 4 and we were preparing to go to Sunday school for the 2nd time, he asked why he had to go. I said, "so you can learn about God." He said, "I already know all about God. They told me that last week." ❤️
I already know! love it! Raylene, When my son was 6: I picked him up from the playground one day. He was very irritated because his friends were 'wasting time' talking about God, whether there was one. I asked him what he thought was. His response has stayed with me to this day: 'God is like a shadow', he said. I am still chewing on that one.
Child’s pose got me through dengue fever many years ago, nowadays, I resort to corpse. But faith in goodness still flickers. You keep the flame burning. Thanks.
It is somewhat sadly comforting to know that I am not the only one who feels these things in these disappointing days. I am wondering why I seem to be waiting for someone to lead us, or to call us(me) out of my stupor to action. I worry God has abandoned us-or have I abandoned myself due to repeated disappointments?
I too send money here and there, though it’s only a drop in a big, seemingly empty bucket.
Child’s pose. Perhaps that is mentally/emotionally what I’ve been doing. Resting up, searching for peace. It helps to read your words, Anne. I feel less alone.
May you be blessed in small ways that count-may your person also.
You speak for many with broken hearts in this time. Thank you.
“he has the soul of a trapped rat” gave me the laugh out loud that i desperately needed today, maybe ill follow it up with a much needed child’s pose. Your mind your heart and your fingers are one of god’s gift to us all🫶
Thank you, Anne! My hope plays hide-and-seek with me on a daily basis. Your piece helped me find it today. But I do take issue with “he has the soul of a trapped rat” — I am not convinced he has one at all.
I would agree with your comment of he may not have a soul at all because in shamanic terms I believe he has tremendous soul loss, so little soul to guide him that everything he can think of gets thrown into that cavernous space where soul used to be, also perhaps occupied by a greedy ghost. And when I think of that, I feel sorry for him--what suffering. So awful that he has to share it.
Thank you for this! I am so grateful for the honest way you write. (And I have to tell you how helpful Bird by Bird was for me as a songwriter and sometimes writer and poet, learning to see the critical spirit as a malevolent fairy I can put in a jar and turn the volume down, and learning to not be afraid to try and keep working at it, to not expect perfection at the first go.)
When my mom was 80 (I'm 81 now! Awk!), she came to NYC in 1995 to spend Christmas with me. She was blind by then and we had LOTS of snow, but she preferred taking the subway to climbing the mountains the snowplow blocked every corner with. I read Bird By Bird to her and we laughed our heads off. It was a real gift to both of us!
Somewhere around that time I met you at Barnes & Noble on 6th Ave. We made eye contact (me grinning) almost through your entire reading and spoke a bit afterwards. I am such a fan!
Thank you for this lovely reflection. Thank you for acknowledging the scary parts and also articulating the hopeful parts. Sending gratitude to you as I fold into child’s pose.
At ninety-two, my mother was in poor shape—I’ll spare the details. Yet whenever I asked how she was doing, she would answer sincerely, with a smile and without hesitation, “Oh, I’m doing fine. There are people who have it a lot worse than I do!”
She was the oldest of thirteen children, raised in the hills and hollers of West Virginia. No electricity. No running water. That gave her perspective. Later, she had four children of her own, each only eighteen months apart—but by then, she had a washing machine. When I asked how she had managed, she said, “Oh, I thought I was on vacation.”
We’re not in the 50’s anymore. I get it. Civilization has lost the “civil.” But my mother’s outlook remains a kind of child’s pose for me—a place of humility and gratitude, a way of returning to what matters and remembering that, even in difficult times, there is still a place to rest.
Children! So concise and accurate! When my son was 4 and we were preparing to go to Sunday school for the 2nd time, he asked why he had to go. I said, "so you can learn about God." He said, "I already know all about God. They told me that last week." ❤️
I already know! love it! Raylene, When my son was 6: I picked him up from the playground one day. He was very irritated because his friends were 'wasting time' talking about God, whether there was one. I asked him what he thought was. His response has stayed with me to this day: 'God is like a shadow', he said. I am still chewing on that one.
Child’s pose got me through dengue fever many years ago, nowadays, I resort to corpse. But faith in goodness still flickers. You keep the flame burning. Thanks.
It is somewhat sadly comforting to know that I am not the only one who feels these things in these disappointing days. I am wondering why I seem to be waiting for someone to lead us, or to call us(me) out of my stupor to action. I worry God has abandoned us-or have I abandoned myself due to repeated disappointments?
I too send money here and there, though it’s only a drop in a big, seemingly empty bucket.
Child’s pose. Perhaps that is mentally/emotionally what I’ve been doing. Resting up, searching for peace. It helps to read your words, Anne. I feel less alone.
May you be blessed in small ways that count-may your person also.
You speak for many with broken hearts in this time. Thank you.
"Our catering cart stowaway" oh my, that one took me out! 😆 Prayers for your loved one!
GUS? Gus. This is why I love you.
“he has the soul of a trapped rat” gave me the laugh out loud that i desperately needed today, maybe ill follow it up with a much needed child’s pose. Your mind your heart and your fingers are one of god’s gift to us all🫶
“Oh, I already know all about life,” he responded. “Pretty good; some problems.”
Perfect
Thank you, Anne! My hope plays hide-and-seek with me on a daily basis. Your piece helped me find it today. But I do take issue with “he has the soul of a trapped rat” — I am not convinced he has one at all.
I would agree with your comment of he may not have a soul at all because in shamanic terms I believe he has tremendous soul loss, so little soul to guide him that everything he can think of gets thrown into that cavernous space where soul used to be, also perhaps occupied by a greedy ghost. And when I think of that, I feel sorry for him--what suffering. So awful that he has to share it.
Thank you, Anne, for your insightful words that echo how many of us feel.
Thank you for this! I am so grateful for the honest way you write. (And I have to tell you how helpful Bird by Bird was for me as a songwriter and sometimes writer and poet, learning to see the critical spirit as a malevolent fairy I can put in a jar and turn the volume down, and learning to not be afraid to try and keep working at it, to not expect perfection at the first go.)
When my mom was 80 (I'm 81 now! Awk!), she came to NYC in 1995 to spend Christmas with me. She was blind by then and we had LOTS of snow, but she preferred taking the subway to climbing the mountains the snowplow blocked every corner with. I read Bird By Bird to her and we laughed our heads off. It was a real gift to both of us!
Somewhere around that time I met you at Barnes & Noble on 6th Ave. We made eye contact (me grinning) almost through your entire reading and spoke a bit afterwards. I am such a fan!
That reminds me of reading Operating Instructions after just having my first child. Laughing my head off was a much needed balm!
She is a wonderful, courageous role model for so many creatives who have just barely stepped out into the light.
prayers for your person and gratitude to you and the writing that is light in the dark.
Thank you for this lovely reflection. Thank you for acknowledging the scary parts and also articulating the hopeful parts. Sending gratitude to you as I fold into child’s pose.
Both sides of the same coin - as that 10-year-old son astutely pointed out.
At ninety-two, my mother was in poor shape—I’ll spare the details. Yet whenever I asked how she was doing, she would answer sincerely, with a smile and without hesitation, “Oh, I’m doing fine. There are people who have it a lot worse than I do!”
She was the oldest of thirteen children, raised in the hills and hollers of West Virginia. No electricity. No running water. That gave her perspective. Later, she had four children of her own, each only eighteen months apart—but by then, she had a washing machine. When I asked how she had managed, she said, “Oh, I thought I was on vacation.”
We’re not in the 50’s anymore. I get it. Civilization has lost the “civil.” But my mother’s outlook remains a kind of child’s pose for me—a place of humility and gratitude, a way of returning to what matters and remembering that, even in difficult times, there is still a place to rest.
Thank you for always making me feel better. I hope your person does well. xo
And we rise from child's pose and try a few bird dog poses to point us in the positive, life-sustaining direction.
Bird dog poses to point the way--love it!
Right there with you!