“Her head”—Jill made a wide oh with her arms—“fit like this.” She breathed as if to fill her nostrils with the musk of fur and sighed like a purr. I liked picturing her cradling the limp head of a 500-pound black bear.
“I think it’s only now—sharing this with you—that I can lift the lid off the pot. Maybe we can make sense of what’s come loose together.” This is such a beautiful chapter Holly. I felt like I walked both those paths with you, lingering on details of the past that keep us tethered to what if… And the offering of lightness to that young woman, a wisdom only gained through the hard hand of time.
Kimberly, thank you! You must know that your question on my last post absolutely helped bring this paragraph together. I was into a few drafts of this chapter—in that done but not yet done space—and your question (plus a couple other serendipitous nudges) brought me back to the importance of making real, valued space for the narration of the narrator now (what she has come to make of things) alongside the narrator then and helped me put some final touches on this chapter that allowed it to feel complete. So thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this trek, my friend!
I think as outdoorsy folks we both know the truth of that sentence as well as see the beautiful metaphor! Thanks for checking in. I'm doing ok. My regular class is going great and I'm taking a class to prepare for my online teaching this fall. My dad had a stroke recently (he's doing quite well, thanks) so I'm spending a weekend with family in Pennsylvania. Trying to flow with the flow :)
I loved the parenthesis that was sparked by "You want kids?" And especially the end of that passage: "wasn’t it inevitable that him calling me to that course would feel like him stepping between me and her?" Beautiful writing, Holly.
Thank you, Rebecca. You picked out the line that came to me in a very late draft, maybe the eighth or ninth, and made me go, OK, now I feel complete with this one. Thank you so much for pointing it out and hearting it. :)
I just absolutely adored your piece that you combined with Julie Gabrielli's whale drawing, by the way. Anyone reading this comment should jump on over and check it out!
"Because isn’t it just like life to be undone by ants while looking out for bears?" I love that, among so many other turns of phrase, and just sparkling clear images of you by the lake, the bears, the people, the melancholy and the humor - all of it. Great episode, my dear. 💜
“I think it’s only now—sharing this with you—that I can lift the lid off the pot. Maybe we can make sense of what’s come loose together.” This is such a beautiful chapter Holly. I felt like I walked both those paths with you, lingering on details of the past that keep us tethered to what if… And the offering of lightness to that young woman, a wisdom only gained through the hard hand of time.
Kimberly, thank you! You must know that your question on my last post absolutely helped bring this paragraph together. I was into a few drafts of this chapter—in that done but not yet done space—and your question (plus a couple other serendipitous nudges) brought me back to the importance of making real, valued space for the narration of the narrator now (what she has come to make of things) alongside the narrator then and helped me put some final touches on this chapter that allowed it to feel complete. So thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this trek, my friend!
Oh how wonderful! The symbiotic process of Substack at work!
Yes, this!: Because isn’t it just like life to be undone by ants while looking out for bears?
Haha. Thank you, Heather! I chortled out loud when that line came to me. Always great to be able to make yourself laugh!
How are you? How's the teaching going?
I think as outdoorsy folks we both know the truth of that sentence as well as see the beautiful metaphor! Thanks for checking in. I'm doing ok. My regular class is going great and I'm taking a class to prepare for my online teaching this fall. My dad had a stroke recently (he's doing quite well, thanks) so I'm spending a weekend with family in Pennsylvania. Trying to flow with the flow :)
Love your writing. All of it.
Thank you, Lisa! 🥰
I loved the parenthesis that was sparked by "You want kids?" And especially the end of that passage: "wasn’t it inevitable that him calling me to that course would feel like him stepping between me and her?" Beautiful writing, Holly.
Thank you, Jeffrey! I enjoyed the process of coming to that line. ;)
This line: "It occurs to me now to think of the girl memorizing the face of her infant in a hospital bed."
heart, heart, heart!
Thank you, Rebecca. You picked out the line that came to me in a very late draft, maybe the eighth or ninth, and made me go, OK, now I feel complete with this one. Thank you so much for pointing it out and hearting it. :)
I just absolutely adored your piece that you combined with Julie Gabrielli's whale drawing, by the way. Anyone reading this comment should jump on over and check it out!
"Because isn’t it just like life to be undone by ants while looking out for bears?" I love that, among so many other turns of phrase, and just sparkling clear images of you by the lake, the bears, the people, the melancholy and the humor - all of it. Great episode, my dear. 💜