I am here for the journey of your writing, wherever you are on yours. This is so full of want and yet do thoroughly grounded in the unknown now. That tongue, that twirl, that spice, that open window- thanks for letting us inside and giving it to us so it feels like our own. Beautiful.
This piece captured everything that is life: the unexpected pain but also beauty, the wildness of children and animals, the sense of a journey that is taking you to places you planned but also never anticipated. Gorgeous writing. I wish you less pain, more answers, and,always, coyotes calling to you from outside your van.
Holly, I’ve been following your work for some time now. I had to tell you that this terribly challenging year for your health has been a great year for your writing.
Beautifully written. The hound is not always friendly. I’ve had many ailments that have either gone away or improved with meditation and avoiding inflammatory foods and other intolerances. 🙏
I always enjoy the way you weave images and ideas and feelings together, Holly. Your niece sounds delightful. Thanks for sharing your journeys with us.
Love the 'woveness' of this writing. Interested in what you say about hesitating to share this personal joiurney with an autoimmune response when people are here 'for stories from the road', but this story is also life on the road and deepens the reading -- especially when it's so well-written and inclusive.
My current road is a hamlet in Finistere (France) and a rhythm of editing, writing, herbal practice -- but it's a road with a big bend in it that I'm craning to see around. After moving country, putting toes into elderhood and some medical stuff that is still being tossed between possible diagnoses, it's a road with lots of questions -- twists and turns. A lot to ponder under the full moon to the song of owls.
Pondering under the full moon to the song of owls! Beautiful. 🦉🌕
You’re right. This piece is indeed life on the road. And I’m ever so glad it feels inclusive.
A hamlet in France writing and editing and an herbal practice sounds lovely. And oh the craning to see what’s next. May the diagnosis and whatever comes next come gently. May your heart be filled. May the owls keep singing.
I’m glad you shared, Holly. My immune system attacked my intestines in my early 30s. I dealt with chronic pain for the next 10 years. I learned some techniques from a pain clinic and a book - Managing Pain before it Manages You. I found some techniques that helped. Keep experimenting and know that some things just can’t be explained. Be good to yourself.
So many gorgeous images you’ve created - your van surrounded by all manner of wildlife very evocative of the sensation of being enveloped by the uncertainties of life over which we have precious little control. Made my heart quicken and my mind swirl. Absolutely stunning. I hope and pray Big Pharma’s latest and greatest brings you at least some relief, if not total resolution of your medical mystery. Loved the playful, loving imagery with your nieces - so sweet!
At present, physically I’m blessed with what we refer to in the medical field as being “grossly healthy” - such an odd expression! The grossness referring to its magnanimity, not its countenance. Eternally grateful to be 66 and in need of no meds - truly ironic for a pharmacist. Emotionally, however, I was sucker-punched to the gut this week when I discovered my 45yo nephew chose to depart this plane on his own terms and timeline, via gunshot. We are all still shell-shocked and devastated. It’s just so surreal. As a bereaved parent myself, having lost my only child to a degenerative brain disease, it is not an experience I ever wanted to have in common with any of my siblings. The only plus side I can see is that I will be here to hold them as gently and lovingly as possible, encouraging them to be patient and kind with themselves and each other. Thankfully, they have a wonderfully close, loving relationship and over 50yr of marriage. Just heartbroken.
“Grossly healthy” is a very odd expression. And I’m glad you’re experiencing it.
I am so very sorry to hear of your family’s current experience and of your loss. My heart aches for all of you. May your love for one another anchor you as the swells of grief and sorrow come.
Thank you for sharing this difficult road you’re walking. So much love your way.
Thank you, Holly. Truly appreciate your heartfelt sentiments. Grief has been riding shotgun with me since I was a teen when my mom died very suddenly. I am well acquainted with how to navigate its ebbs and tsunamis - self care is paramount. 💜🙏🏻💫
I enjoyed the woven threads of your storytelling. I have Ankylosing Spondylitis, too, and it can be crazy-making at times. I can say it has taught me a lot about hope.
Oh, Tricia!!! AS is kind of a wild trip, I’m learning. I’m still only a handful of months into diagnosis. It’s teaching me a lot about expectation and taking whatever comes as it comes. I’ve always prided myself on being go with the flow. It’s a different kind of you never know, though. 🤣
I’d love to hear more about your experiences and about how they speak to hope. 🙏
I've had it 30 years (at least) with severe flares and remissions during that time. Sustained symptoms the last 10 yrs or so, started multiple things. On Cosentyx the last year, still need prednisone from time to time. I've shifted from feeling like my future is bleak, hopeless, and disabled to a mindset of managing what I can, practicing self-care like an olympic athlete, & now I believe I'll always make it through to the other side.
That was one heck of a sensory massage, Holly! From the underground stirrings only owls can hear to laughter bubbling like champagne to the musk of the sea lion. I've smelled it, heard it, tasted that spicy chorizo and your bites of joy seen and unseen. Thank you.
I so appreciate the reliable goodness and vulnerability of your writing. No worries on timing either, Holly. It's kind of like having an old-fashioned letter-by-mailbox correspondence!
Jules, this is one of the reasons we vibe so well. I think of the DMs that way, too. Hopefully the others I’m terribly slow (but always eventually get back to) agree. 🤣🙃
You might be a natural for writing suspense novels, Holly! It's also a good brain challenge for me---what is she referring to? Don't worry, I have my lapses as well and come October, I'll be offline for three weeks and communicating only by postcards from Madagascar!
Oh this last paragraph Holly dropped right into my heart of longing and understanding.
“I got you, boo, I want to say to the hound, to my immune system, to my burrowing mind. All will be right again. I lay a hand across my heart. I want to mean, All is right already.”
The voles of our mind, forever seeking, and how eloquently you express the blindness of our search, whilst sone other sense seems to be guiding us to safety.
"My mind sits on its haunches, filing through what could go wrong." Not sure there's any better way to word my mind, lately. I want to say that's always been the case. But that's not so. It's in the past probably been more like the Meer Cat, ever vigilant and poised to pounce or flee. Lately, my mind is far more of a haunch sitter. And that's not a uniformly bad position. I love squatting, and haven't been able to since the hip replacement, a bit over four months ago. Even prior, I was losing that ability. I want to move my way back to haunch sitting, in the physical world. I recognize already my haunches of contemplation, that that doesn't decide, but rather wanders. I increasingly appreciate my mind, although it has certainly seemed the enemy at times in my life. Haunch sitting becomes it.
Thank you for sharing your wandering; past, present, and future. I love you, and your mind.
I will be searching through this piece for a while. So much wisdom and clarity along the path, sprinkled like the smells the hound follows, the trill of your niece's sweet words, the dirt kicked back or smoothed over, the words picked up, gathered and left behind, as the latest take their place.
“Haunch sitting becomes it.” Gorgeous! To our thusly posed minds also filing through all that could go “right.” (Should have put the wrong in quotes I now see.)
I love you and your mind, too, my friend!! If anyone’s reading, this is my dear brilliant writer friend, who’s just starting to share her work her on Substack. Do jump over and check her stuff out. It’s goooood.
Much love! Oh and to getting back to our physical haunches! 💕♥️
I loved the bartender analogy. "I like that he gives it to me neat . . . and pours straight into the glass in front of you." Good one, Holly. Wow, what a journey you're on. We're right there with you. Keep 'em coming.
Haha! Yes! I’m glad you liked that one, Jeanine. It gave me a smile when it came to me. He’s quite direct and pragmatic, and friends and family have maybe wished he was a little less so. But I like it. It helps me push back when I want and feel comfy asking him about all the what-ifs that come up. I like not questioning where he’s coming from or whether he’ll give it to me as he sees it.
Thank you, thank you, for reading and commenting. ♥️💕
Holly, your willingness to share such personal and sometimes painful experiences is truly inspiring. It's not always easy to open up about our struggles, but doing so creates a space for connection and understanding. Your honesty about your diagnosis and the complexities of treatment reminds us that we're not alone in our journeys. Thank you for your courage and for fostering a sense of community through your vulnerability.
Thank you, Alexander! I so appreciate you saying that. I sometimes struggle with sharing from this current “journey.” As a writer, I want to make art from experience—from oh look at what this creature (who is/was a version of me) does with this. I sometimes wonder if this particular experience is too close yet. And, as I so appreciate you noting here, I do want to create connection and absolutely love the community developing here. So you sharing what works means a lot. 💕🙏
Ooooof. I’m sorry, Nancy. That must be difficult. I have a niece (not the one in the piece) who’s had to deal with migraines, and it breaks my heart to see her pain.
I am here for the journey of your writing, wherever you are on yours. This is so full of want and yet do thoroughly grounded in the unknown now. That tongue, that twirl, that spice, that open window- thanks for letting us inside and giving it to us so it feels like our own. Beautiful.
Awwww, Emily! Thank you, thank you. “So thoroughly grounded in the unknown now.” I love this. I’ll keep it with me.
I very much appreciate you.
💜 and I, you!
What she said 👆🏻 Emily is so eloquent and such a great close reader. I’m learning a lot from both of you! Glad to be among you! 👯♀️ ✍🏻 📓
And thank you, thank you, Kathleen. I’m so very glad you’re here. ♥️
Right?! It is such a joy to be read by Emily. 💕
It is an honor to read your work!
💜
This piece captured everything that is life: the unexpected pain but also beauty, the wildness of children and animals, the sense of a journey that is taking you to places you planned but also never anticipated. Gorgeous writing. I wish you less pain, more answers, and,always, coyotes calling to you from outside your van.
Awwwww! Elizabeth, this is a wonderful wish. Always coyotes indeed. :)
And yes, the wildness of children and animals (and us all)!! This was what I was hoping to capture.
Thank you, thank you. I so appreciate you reading and commenting.
I once read that wolves, like coyotes, "howl for assembly." The best calling of all.
Yes!!!!!
Holly, you've outdone yourself. And that is saying something.
Oh, Rona. I’m letting this soak in. I can’t say, I don’t think, quite how much this means to me. 💕♥️
Holly, I’ve been following your work for some time now. I had to tell you that this terribly challenging year for your health has been a great year for your writing.
Beautifully written. The hound is not always friendly. I’ve had many ailments that have either gone away or improved with meditation and avoiding inflammatory foods and other intolerances. 🙏
I always enjoy the way you weave images and ideas and feelings together, Holly. Your niece sounds delightful. Thanks for sharing your journeys with us.
She really is a delight. I feel quite fortunate for the time with both nieces this current journey has afforded me.
Thank you so very much for reading and sharing what’s working. 💕
Love the 'woveness' of this writing. Interested in what you say about hesitating to share this personal joiurney with an autoimmune response when people are here 'for stories from the road', but this story is also life on the road and deepens the reading -- especially when it's so well-written and inclusive.
My current road is a hamlet in Finistere (France) and a rhythm of editing, writing, herbal practice -- but it's a road with a big bend in it that I'm craning to see around. After moving country, putting toes into elderhood and some medical stuff that is still being tossed between possible diagnoses, it's a road with lots of questions -- twists and turns. A lot to ponder under the full moon to the song of owls.
Pondering under the full moon to the song of owls! Beautiful. 🦉🌕
You’re right. This piece is indeed life on the road. And I’m ever so glad it feels inclusive.
A hamlet in France writing and editing and an herbal practice sounds lovely. And oh the craning to see what’s next. May the diagnosis and whatever comes next come gently. May your heart be filled. May the owls keep singing.
I’m glad you shared, Holly. My immune system attacked my intestines in my early 30s. I dealt with chronic pain for the next 10 years. I learned some techniques from a pain clinic and a book - Managing Pain before it Manages You. I found some techniques that helped. Keep experimenting and know that some things just can’t be explained. Be good to yourself.
That’s a truth that’s hard to accept sometimes—the inexplicably piece. But I’m learning, that and some good pain management techniques. :)
I’m sorry you had that experience, Brenda. Thank you for sharing. ♥️
So many gorgeous images you’ve created - your van surrounded by all manner of wildlife very evocative of the sensation of being enveloped by the uncertainties of life over which we have precious little control. Made my heart quicken and my mind swirl. Absolutely stunning. I hope and pray Big Pharma’s latest and greatest brings you at least some relief, if not total resolution of your medical mystery. Loved the playful, loving imagery with your nieces - so sweet!
At present, physically I’m blessed with what we refer to in the medical field as being “grossly healthy” - such an odd expression! The grossness referring to its magnanimity, not its countenance. Eternally grateful to be 66 and in need of no meds - truly ironic for a pharmacist. Emotionally, however, I was sucker-punched to the gut this week when I discovered my 45yo nephew chose to depart this plane on his own terms and timeline, via gunshot. We are all still shell-shocked and devastated. It’s just so surreal. As a bereaved parent myself, having lost my only child to a degenerative brain disease, it is not an experience I ever wanted to have in common with any of my siblings. The only plus side I can see is that I will be here to hold them as gently and lovingly as possible, encouraging them to be patient and kind with themselves and each other. Thankfully, they have a wonderfully close, loving relationship and over 50yr of marriage. Just heartbroken.
“Grossly healthy” is a very odd expression. And I’m glad you’re experiencing it.
I am so very sorry to hear of your family’s current experience and of your loss. My heart aches for all of you. May your love for one another anchor you as the swells of grief and sorrow come.
Thank you for sharing this difficult road you’re walking. So much love your way.
Thank you, Holly. Truly appreciate your heartfelt sentiments. Grief has been riding shotgun with me since I was a teen when my mom died very suddenly. I am well acquainted with how to navigate its ebbs and tsunamis - self care is paramount. 💜🙏🏻💫
Love and light to you, Kathleen. I am so sorry.
Thank you, Emily! 💜🙏🏻😘
I enjoyed the woven threads of your storytelling. I have Ankylosing Spondylitis, too, and it can be crazy-making at times. I can say it has taught me a lot about hope.
Oh, Tricia!!! AS is kind of a wild trip, I’m learning. I’m still only a handful of months into diagnosis. It’s teaching me a lot about expectation and taking whatever comes as it comes. I’ve always prided myself on being go with the flow. It’s a different kind of you never know, though. 🤣
I’d love to hear more about your experiences and about how they speak to hope. 🙏
I've had it 30 years (at least) with severe flares and remissions during that time. Sustained symptoms the last 10 yrs or so, started multiple things. On Cosentyx the last year, still need prednisone from time to time. I've shifted from feeling like my future is bleak, hopeless, and disabled to a mindset of managing what I can, practicing self-care like an olympic athlete, & now I believe I'll always make it through to the other side.
Managing self-care like an Olympic athlete! Starting to understand the importance of this.
I’m sorry this has been with you so long. And so happy to hear about the shift. Thank you, thank you for sharing. 🔥🔥
That was one heck of a sensory massage, Holly! From the underground stirrings only owls can hear to laughter bubbling like champagne to the musk of the sea lion. I've smelled it, heard it, tasted that spicy chorizo and your bites of joy seen and unseen. Thank you.
A sensory massage!!! Gah! I love this. Thank you, thank you, Jules.
PS. I do know I owe you a DM. Behind on a few things these days. 🤪
I so much appreciate you reading and commenting. 💕
I so appreciate the reliable goodness and vulnerability of your writing. No worries on timing either, Holly. It's kind of like having an old-fashioned letter-by-mailbox correspondence!
Jules, this is one of the reasons we vibe so well. I think of the DMs that way, too. Hopefully the others I’m terribly slow (but always eventually get back to) agree. 🤣🙃
You might be a natural for writing suspense novels, Holly! It's also a good brain challenge for me---what is she referring to? Don't worry, I have my lapses as well and come October, I'll be offline for three weeks and communicating only by postcards from Madagascar!
Oh this last paragraph Holly dropped right into my heart of longing and understanding.
“I got you, boo, I want to say to the hound, to my immune system, to my burrowing mind. All will be right again. I lay a hand across my heart. I want to mean, All is right already.”
The voles of our mind, forever seeking, and how eloquently you express the blindness of our search, whilst sone other sense seems to be guiding us to safety.
♥️💕
I’m so often greatful for you and your work and the reminder of the importance of our longing hearts resonating with all is right already.
"My mind sits on its haunches, filing through what could go wrong." Not sure there's any better way to word my mind, lately. I want to say that's always been the case. But that's not so. It's in the past probably been more like the Meer Cat, ever vigilant and poised to pounce or flee. Lately, my mind is far more of a haunch sitter. And that's not a uniformly bad position. I love squatting, and haven't been able to since the hip replacement, a bit over four months ago. Even prior, I was losing that ability. I want to move my way back to haunch sitting, in the physical world. I recognize already my haunches of contemplation, that that doesn't decide, but rather wanders. I increasingly appreciate my mind, although it has certainly seemed the enemy at times in my life. Haunch sitting becomes it.
Thank you for sharing your wandering; past, present, and future. I love you, and your mind.
I will be searching through this piece for a while. So much wisdom and clarity along the path, sprinkled like the smells the hound follows, the trill of your niece's sweet words, the dirt kicked back or smoothed over, the words picked up, gathered and left behind, as the latest take their place.
“Haunch sitting becomes it.” Gorgeous! To our thusly posed minds also filing through all that could go “right.” (Should have put the wrong in quotes I now see.)
I love you and your mind, too, my friend!! If anyone’s reading, this is my dear brilliant writer friend, who’s just starting to share her work her on Substack. Do jump over and check her stuff out. It’s goooood.
Much love! Oh and to getting back to our physical haunches! 💕♥️
I loved the bartender analogy. "I like that he gives it to me neat . . . and pours straight into the glass in front of you." Good one, Holly. Wow, what a journey you're on. We're right there with you. Keep 'em coming.
I agree, Jeanine. That was a potent line!
🥃♥️
Haha! Yes! I’m glad you liked that one, Jeanine. It gave me a smile when it came to me. He’s quite direct and pragmatic, and friends and family have maybe wished he was a little less so. But I like it. It helps me push back when I want and feel comfy asking him about all the what-ifs that come up. I like not questioning where he’s coming from or whether he’ll give it to me as he sees it.
Thank you, thank you, for reading and commenting. ♥️💕
Holly, your willingness to share such personal and sometimes painful experiences is truly inspiring. It's not always easy to open up about our struggles, but doing so creates a space for connection and understanding. Your honesty about your diagnosis and the complexities of treatment reminds us that we're not alone in our journeys. Thank you for your courage and for fostering a sense of community through your vulnerability.
Thank you, Alexander! I so appreciate you saying that. I sometimes struggle with sharing from this current “journey.” As a writer, I want to make art from experience—from oh look at what this creature (who is/was a version of me) does with this. I sometimes wonder if this particular experience is too close yet. And, as I so appreciate you noting here, I do want to create connection and absolutely love the community developing here. So you sharing what works means a lot. 💕🙏
Great writing. It's migraines that I must deal with.
Ooooof. I’m sorry, Nancy. That must be difficult. I have a niece (not the one in the piece) who’s had to deal with migraines, and it breaks my heart to see her pain.
Love and grace your war. Thank you for sharing.
Love and grace your way of course. Auto correct!!
What a lovely piece of writing, Holly.
Thank you, thank you, Michael! I soooo appreciate you reading and commenting.