Cedar rafters in the ceiling guide my strokes—until I reach a cascade of sunlight spilling from a small, high window, and everything disappears. Whoa, I think. Then my arms reach skyward and back, pulling me through tiny glimmers of fuzzy light.
I really enjoyed this one, Holly. Some beautiful writing wandering through some lovely reflections. I also found this very relatable as I share your affinity for the water. It’s amazing!
Also, I had to point out these two parts because they were just too good not to:
“wife with a smile like a hug” — such a wonderful description.
“Back in high school, I raced the long-distance 500-yard freestyle. Now, at the YMCA, I secretly race the swimmers in the lanes next to me, most a couple decades my senior. Dig dip, I tell myself when I see their hips or legs in my peripheral, delighting at the burn in my muscles. After a marvelous victory, I inwardly raise my arms and fake punk the swimmer to my right. Booyah, old man.” — this was fantastic in every way.
Holly -- YES!!! So happy for you to be back in the water and to have found a medication that appears to offer a path to real improvements. The exchange between you and your brother is going to be with me for a long, long time. In the end, yes.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I am always so grateful for your heartfelt, engaged comments. Me, too. In the end, yes. It's a good (hard) thing to remember sometimes, isn't it? 🥰
So hard. And yet how often I've looked back on angsty times and periods of heartbreak with new perspective, one of appreciation, or at least deeper understanding, both of which get translated to "yes." So grateful for you, too, Holly, for writing that touches the heart.
Welcome back to the waters. So glad your body is able to feel her freedom and strength again within her, that must be nothing short of ecstatic. Beautiful writing, as always.❤️
This is beautiful. And she does indeed have a smile like a hug. We need to dust off some of those Supremes dances. They were pretty fabulous, as I recall.
It makes sense, yes. I privately thought of myself as dreadful at the core. Sadly, I was married to someone who felt the same way about himself and anyone who cared about The Good, as he put it. So I kept on thinking that way for so very long. Thanks for your lovely newsletter.
Isn’t it strange how many of us devoted ourselves to proving that we really were good, not good at something but a good person. The pain and fear behind that effort- it makes me want to comfort my younger self. Thanks for your beautiful writing, Holly.
Exactly. And it's only lately that I'm realizing how many remnants of that clung on WAY behind when I'd thought I'd let go the need to prove I was good. I'm going to write more on this bc I think it's so powerful and interesting. One part of this realization has come through the looking back entailed in memoir writing and seeing that the other people around me saw me as "good" (as a person whose kindness and honesty they could rely on, say), and I found myself surprised to realize the version of me then might have, in some way, seen this as pulling it off. Not sure if that makes sense.
Much love and comfort to both of our younger selves and much gratitude to you for reading and commenting, Elizabeth. ♥️
I was a similar kind of girl: "I found myself often hiding parts, turning a demure smile that said, I’m good. I’m good. It meant, I’m not a bad person." It cracks my heart to think of all of us who somehow decided that our desires made us not-good. This was so honest and true. And good, in all the ways a piece of writing can be.
Rita, thank you!! I so very much appreciate your kind words. It is heart-wrenching, isn't it? There is a mass internalization of the lack of our own goodness among so many that is 100 percent unnecessary and not good for our own hearts, of course, and for the world at large. To us all knowing are own inherent worth comes from simply being all of who we are! ♥️
"I’ve stood at many an edge, toes lapped by icy tongue or hanging above sparkling aqua, counting to three again and again. I think my fear before makes it better. Water holds you. You come out with fresh skin. Like how sunlight pouring from a small, high window that seems to blind you lets you see particles of warmed water detaching themselves and flying away into the air." Gorgeous writing, Holly. I loved this piece. And glad to know that your new medication is working.
Thank you, Jeffrey. I so very much appreciate your reading and comment.
PS. I got behind on my own commenting lately, so I don't know if I told you how much I loved your piece on the gallery of women artists. It was splendid, the writing, the pictures, how thoroughly it drew you in. ♥️
Thank you, Holly. It was a wonderful experieince and I'm going to share more of the paintings via Notes. These are artists whose work deserves to be seen and admired after centuries of neglect.
So glad your new medication is working, and more swimming - that's a good thing. Currently, our community swimming pool is soup temperature, and probably more pee than water at this point, thanks to all the kids visiting. ;)
It’s such a wonderful practice you’ve made of putting yourself in water wherever you are. Every time I read one of your stories from the traveling life you’ve made I have a pang of envy.
PS. I feel a pang of envy over the quality of your recordings and the music you make for them. I have some musical talent and play guitar or piano a tiny bit still but have sort of wasted it by choosing other pursuits over practice far too often.
Thanks, Ben! I do so enjoy the traveling life and feel the fortune of life's turns and choices allowing for as much of it as it has. I very much embrace the whole time and place for all things. And I've had long spells of not traveling much. Who knows? Maybe there's a traveling life spell in your future. ;)
PS. Looking forward to tomorrow's big reveal / start. Very excited to be with you for day one of this latest serial. Anyone else who's reading this comment, jump over to Ben's page for the start of his next novel. His writing--not to mention the recorded version of each installment--dynamite!
As a life long swimmer, you nailed the swimming experience in this post. I, too, have kept an eye out for lap swimmers in my peripheral and use them as rabbits, or maybe I'm their rabbit. "Water holds you. You come out with fresh skin." Yes, it does. Yes, I do. Fantastic post. P.S. My husband also has the same diagnosis.
Thank you, Mary! Love that you're cycling. I'm a cycling enthusiast too. Years back--what has it been, five years now--before Ruby the van, I lived for a spell car-free and loved getting everywhere by pedaling.
And oh my goodness, I hope your husband is doing all right. I'm new to this diagnosis but have learned, from joining support groups, it's a very different experience for everyone and can be quite difficult to manage. My best wishes to you both.
🐇 😊. My husband is doing pretty well, swimming and cycling help him, though cycling sometimes is more painful than swimming. He tires more quickly than he used to. Slow by slow, as he says. Thanks for your best wishes. P.S. Car-free living is a rush!
I Love reading you
I love having you as a reader, my brilliant writer, friend! ♥️💕
Beautifully written. Heart on the page. That's our Holly!
Mary! Thank you. ♥️
I really enjoyed this one, Holly. Some beautiful writing wandering through some lovely reflections. I also found this very relatable as I share your affinity for the water. It’s amazing!
Also, I had to point out these two parts because they were just too good not to:
“wife with a smile like a hug” — such a wonderful description.
“Back in high school, I raced the long-distance 500-yard freestyle. Now, at the YMCA, I secretly race the swimmers in the lanes next to me, most a couple decades my senior. Dig dip, I tell myself when I see their hips or legs in my peripheral, delighting at the burn in my muscles. After a marvelous victory, I inwardly raise my arms and fake punk the swimmer to my right. Booyah, old man.” — this was fantastic in every way.
:)
Haha! Thank you, Michael. You so often pick out the very parts that made me smile while I was writing them. :)
Holly -- YES!!! So happy for you to be back in the water and to have found a medication that appears to offer a path to real improvements. The exchange between you and your brother is going to be with me for a long, long time. In the end, yes.
Thank you, Elizabeth. I am always so grateful for your heartfelt, engaged comments. Me, too. In the end, yes. It's a good (hard) thing to remember sometimes, isn't it? 🥰
So hard. And yet how often I've looked back on angsty times and periods of heartbreak with new perspective, one of appreciation, or at least deeper understanding, both of which get translated to "yes." So grateful for you, too, Holly, for writing that touches the heart.
Welcome back to the waters. So glad your body is able to feel her freedom and strength again within her, that must be nothing short of ecstatic. Beautiful writing, as always.❤️
it really is, Kimberly. I know I don’t have to tell you anything about learning to accept an adjust. I so appreciate you reading.🥰
I love the way you write about being in water. I'm there with you.
Thank you, Tina!! Glad to find another water lover. 🌊
Just found you through Marya. I’m glad to be reading while you journey.
Yay! Welcome, Teyani. Soooo glad to have you here.
Isn’t Marya THE BEST??!!
This is beautiful. And she does indeed have a smile like a hug. We need to dust off some of those Supremes dances. They were pretty fabulous, as I recall.
Thank you! And I know, right. Not to mention the outfits. Hahah. We’d for sure wow.
My sister, everyone! 👯♀️♥️
It makes sense, yes. I privately thought of myself as dreadful at the core. Sadly, I was married to someone who felt the same way about himself and anyone who cared about The Good, as he put it. So I kept on thinking that way for so very long. Thanks for your lovely newsletter.
How did I miss this one?
So many stacks I want to read the moment they dropped. No way some aren't gonna slip right through my radar.
Lovely to have you here and reading any time, my friend!!
Isn’t it strange how many of us devoted ourselves to proving that we really were good, not good at something but a good person. The pain and fear behind that effort- it makes me want to comfort my younger self. Thanks for your beautiful writing, Holly.
Exactly. And it's only lately that I'm realizing how many remnants of that clung on WAY behind when I'd thought I'd let go the need to prove I was good. I'm going to write more on this bc I think it's so powerful and interesting. One part of this realization has come through the looking back entailed in memoir writing and seeing that the other people around me saw me as "good" (as a person whose kindness and honesty they could rely on, say), and I found myself surprised to realize the version of me then might have, in some way, seen this as pulling it off. Not sure if that makes sense.
Much love and comfort to both of our younger selves and much gratitude to you for reading and commenting, Elizabeth. ♥️
I was a similar kind of girl: "I found myself often hiding parts, turning a demure smile that said, I’m good. I’m good. It meant, I’m not a bad person." It cracks my heart to think of all of us who somehow decided that our desires made us not-good. This was so honest and true. And good, in all the ways a piece of writing can be.
Rita, thank you!! I so very much appreciate your kind words. It is heart-wrenching, isn't it? There is a mass internalization of the lack of our own goodness among so many that is 100 percent unnecessary and not good for our own hearts, of course, and for the world at large. To us all knowing are own inherent worth comes from simply being all of who we are! ♥️
"I’ve stood at many an edge, toes lapped by icy tongue or hanging above sparkling aqua, counting to three again and again. I think my fear before makes it better. Water holds you. You come out with fresh skin. Like how sunlight pouring from a small, high window that seems to blind you lets you see particles of warmed water detaching themselves and flying away into the air." Gorgeous writing, Holly. I loved this piece. And glad to know that your new medication is working.
Thank you, Jeffrey. I so very much appreciate your reading and comment.
PS. I got behind on my own commenting lately, so I don't know if I told you how much I loved your piece on the gallery of women artists. It was splendid, the writing, the pictures, how thoroughly it drew you in. ♥️
Thank you, Holly. It was a wonderful experieince and I'm going to share more of the paintings via Notes. These are artists whose work deserves to be seen and admired after centuries of neglect.
I’ll look for the notes and restack to help them be seen. Feel free to tag me so I don’t miss them if you want to. :)
🙏Thank you!
So glad your new medication is working, and more swimming - that's a good thing. Currently, our community swimming pool is soup temperature, and probably more pee than water at this point, thanks to all the kids visiting. ;)
It’s such a wonderful practice you’ve made of putting yourself in water wherever you are. Every time I read one of your stories from the traveling life you’ve made I have a pang of envy.
PS. I feel a pang of envy over the quality of your recordings and the music you make for them. I have some musical talent and play guitar or piano a tiny bit still but have sort of wasted it by choosing other pursuits over practice far too often.
It’s hard to maintain all the things. There just aren’t enough hours in the day.
Thanks, Ben! I do so enjoy the traveling life and feel the fortune of life's turns and choices allowing for as much of it as it has. I very much embrace the whole time and place for all things. And I've had long spells of not traveling much. Who knows? Maybe there's a traveling life spell in your future. ;)
PS. Looking forward to tomorrow's big reveal / start. Very excited to be with you for day one of this latest serial. Anyone else who's reading this comment, jump over to Ben's page for the start of his next novel. His writing--not to mention the recorded version of each installment--dynamite!
As a life long swimmer, you nailed the swimming experience in this post. I, too, have kept an eye out for lap swimmers in my peripheral and use them as rabbits, or maybe I'm their rabbit. "Water holds you. You come out with fresh skin." Yes, it does. Yes, I do. Fantastic post. P.S. My husband also has the same diagnosis.
Thank you, Mary! Love that you're cycling. I'm a cycling enthusiast too. Years back--what has it been, five years now--before Ruby the van, I lived for a spell car-free and loved getting everywhere by pedaling.
And oh my goodness, I hope your husband is doing all right. I'm new to this diagnosis but have learned, from joining support groups, it's a very different experience for everyone and can be quite difficult to manage. My best wishes to you both.
To chasing and being rabbits!
🐇 😊. My husband is doing pretty well, swimming and cycling help him, though cycling sometimes is more painful than swimming. He tires more quickly than he used to. Slow by slow, as he says. Thanks for your best wishes. P.S. Car-free living is a rush!
🏊🏼♀️🚴🏻♀️♥️