Oh, you're amazing. Gorgeous words, from your pen, your sword. Don't stop swinging that sword, brave woman, plunge it deeply into the heart of things, we need to read and hear your truth. Love to you, my friend. xo
Mythical story meets reality! If I confine myself to thinking within the boundaries of plausibility, then the sword belonged to someone who came back for it, or it went away with someone who needed it, and both of those are acceptable. But if I give myself over to possibility, it was a messenger sent to remind you that you are never far from the power you need, sent to confirm that the two-sides premise is the problem, sent to emphasize that thrusting and parrying are too rusty and dull for the kind of transformation we need now. Wild hearts, unite!
This is stunning, Holly, and so moving. We are, right? Moving? Even when it feels like we're standing still?
Oh my gosh, Elizabeth! I never thought of this possibility. That the sword was only there when I needed it. Maybe it was swallowed back into the saguaro until next it was needed. Ha! I love your imagination.
Thank you, thank you, my friend. Yes, indeed. It's one of my favorite things about life--to remember that we are moving all the time in so very many ways.
The image of the woman of the road, alone in her van, wrestling with the complexities of the world, resonated deeply with me. It's a reminder that even in our solitude, we're never truly alone in our struggles. We're all navigating this journey together, each with our own 'swords' to bear.
Truth! I'm soooooo very glad to know there are others like you out there--each of us bearing our swords alongside each other. It makes both the solitude and the togetherness lovelier.
Excaliber! One of the great lines in the movie, "Silver Linings Playbook". and yes, it's been a doozy of a week with ourselves "on the road again" for the past 7 days, from the middle of Mexico to the west coast and then north to AZ and on to NV. Here for the next week and then on east to OK before going back to Mexico. And yesterday added a new member to our twosome, a new 16 week old Moyen Poodle. So a travel companion who will require that we stop to pee more often than we might otherwise.
Oh my, that is a whole lot of mileage under those tires of yours. Forgive me if I feel a wee bit jealous. Ruby hasn't put nearly enough distance behind her tires lately. She's itching to move.
And yay on the addition. Have you settled on a name yet? I'd love to see photos. :)
Gary, that is serendipity. I just watched Silver Linings Playbook last night! I read the word excaliber and knew exactly where you were headed. And who knew a Moyen poodle is a "medium" poodle en francais? And that there are four recognized sizes in Europe? I love the random learning that happens here.
I love it too! And Gary was kind enough to send me a photo of the poodle in question. Absolutely adorable! If Substack allowed photos in comments, I’d share it here so we could all ooh and aw. ;)
Where do we sign that petition to permit photos in the comments thread? I didn't realize how much I think 'in photos'---this is why we have our private toad photo communication, Holly! My Substack post this coming Saturday is 100% inspired by Gary's moyen poodle! I've asked a friend with a miniature poodle named Scary for a photo. Gary, I'll tag you in the post (and thanks for the poodle intel!).
In addition to my Moyen poodle education in the comments thread below, I also learned that the mesquite and fuzzy cholla were a type of plant and cacti. I never, ever considered that mesquite spice/rubs came from a dried, ground plant pod. Wow, what a day of revelation under your lemon moon. Thanks for the ride, Holly. A fuzzy cholla sounds like it should be a llama though.
There are soooo many different kind of cholla. The one I call fuzzy is the jumping cholla, also sometimes called teddy-bear cholla. And honestly, I can kind of see a resemblance to a llama. They have a very endearing and also kind of psychedelic look. But their barbs are nasty, and they’re called “jumping” because they literally jump (little bits of them) if you get too near.
“A day of revelation under your lemon moon.” Love it!
Thank you, my friend. I so very much appreciate your attention and engagement.
Instead of a Chia pet, I want a Cholla pet! My great-grandmother was a cacti fanatic (I'm sure I still have some of her cacti collection whiskers in my dermis). Thanks for the jumping cholla lesson---sounds like the porcupine of the plant world! However, I recently learned that porcupines don't actually 'shoot' quills. You have to be in whipping distance of their tail and make contact.
I grew up having wild cucumber fights with my sister. Those things are great for sticking in long hair! So, those remnant cacti prickers were also sibling-related! A cholla pet is so perfect for branding and marketing though!
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating — I love how flawless you weave different snippets together to create these cohesive stories that hit on so many different angles. The way you tell us about a literal sword but then use it as a metaphor as well. It’s soooo good Holly!
I enjoy all of your pieces, but I really enjoyed this one :)
You should know you’re one of my readers who regularly pops into my mind as I write. And I did think at some point, I bet Michael will like this one. ;)
I remember reading once that Liz Gilbert recommends writing to a single reader. I do that occasionally. But more often it’ll be a line or two that I write to a single reader. It’s a really fun practice that I think helps the writing.
That’s actually so awesome to hear there are times you think of me when writing lines — that feels like a strange honour I don’t deserve.
And yes, in Stephen King’s book on writing he said the same thing about writing to a single reader, he said it’s his wife. Mostly, I think of Evie, my partner, as she reads and critiques everything I write before it ever sees the light of day (and I do the same for her). But like you said, it does vary, when I’m writing about skating it’s more often a skate homie I think of. And there are definitely times I think of individuals in my Substack audience. You spring to mind most when I’m trying to describe landscapes or just descriptions in general — because honestly, I’m trying to pull from your magical way with words. :)
I’m just blown away that there was an actual sword. So many metaphorical swords here, and I just kept thinking there was no sword, until there was. I can’t even wrap my head around the how and the why of that sword being there in the middle of that terrain. Beautifully told. It definitely has that mythical feel of a sword out of time that appeared in a moment… kudos to you for picking it up.
Siegfried slew the dragon Fafnir with the sword Nothung. I think your prose is your sword and its beauty will help keep our wild hearts safe from the dragons that threaten us. Thank you for adding to the beauty of the world with your words.
Thank you, my friend. I thought of many swords during the composing of this essay but ended up decided not to evoke one in particular. I'm glad you've brought Nothung into the mix. ;)
I'm sure you were right to leave the choice of sword to the reader! As it happens, when I read your your post I'd just been listening to Wagner's Siegfried and the scene where the hero forges the sword himself and heads off to slay the dragon. It's such an amazing world of sound and it was a further delight to make a connection with your beautiful essay.
Swords to pens. This story is wonderfully meta. I fall into your lusciously painted landscapes while also arrested by the deeper brandishing you/we are experiencing collectively.
Holly, the way you paint with words the beauty of the world as you travel and the harshness of our collective lives inspires me, to see the world through the eyes of an artist. And to be a better writer
Holly, this is amazing. Interspersing the vignettes of real life sword plunges with your story in the desert makes it very memorable (aside from the obvious thing that finding that sword in the desert is amazing). The ending with the coyote is perfect. I think my favorite line is "Once she's planted a ruby-colored, van sized flag on a flat clearing, she steps out."
Aww, thank you, Donna. I really liked that line, too. I love it when readers point to lines I had fun coming up with.
Yeah finding that sword was so much fun. It's funny now to remember back to the fact that it did scare me when I first saw it. I was a bit skittish in those first months of life in the van. In some ways, I find it odd, as I'd traveled by backpack (on foot, train, bus) for months on end, both in and out of the United States. I'd traveled by bicycle. I think something felt more permanent about the vanlife maybe.
And the sword was this terrific moment of comic relief that transitioned me to pretty dang relaxed going forward--until the mice, that is, and a few other moments. Ha. :)
Right?! What a weirdness. But I am delighted to have found it, no just for the storytelling purpose but also because it truly opened up something in me that I needed in just that moment. I relaxed and embraced the wildness of myself in a whole new wonderful way because of that sword.
Oh, you're amazing. Gorgeous words, from your pen, your sword. Don't stop swinging that sword, brave woman, plunge it deeply into the heart of things, we need to read and hear your truth. Love to you, my friend. xo
Gah!! Thanks, Nan. I wasn't quite satisfied with this post but had worked it and needed to let it go for now. So I really love that it worked for you.
To us accessing our wild hearts and the swords of our pens to bring goodness and protection and justice into the world!!
xoxo
xoxoxoxoxoxo!
Mythical story meets reality! If I confine myself to thinking within the boundaries of plausibility, then the sword belonged to someone who came back for it, or it went away with someone who needed it, and both of those are acceptable. But if I give myself over to possibility, it was a messenger sent to remind you that you are never far from the power you need, sent to confirm that the two-sides premise is the problem, sent to emphasize that thrusting and parrying are too rusty and dull for the kind of transformation we need now. Wild hearts, unite!
This is stunning, Holly, and so moving. We are, right? Moving? Even when it feels like we're standing still?
Oh my gosh, Elizabeth! I never thought of this possibility. That the sword was only there when I needed it. Maybe it was swallowed back into the saguaro until next it was needed. Ha! I love your imagination.
Thank you, thank you, my friend. Yes, indeed. It's one of my favorite things about life--to remember that we are moving all the time in so very many ways.
Thankful for all the discoveries we are making together. 🗡️
Me too, me too!!
The image of the woman of the road, alone in her van, wrestling with the complexities of the world, resonated deeply with me. It's a reminder that even in our solitude, we're never truly alone in our struggles. We're all navigating this journey together, each with our own 'swords' to bear.
Truth! I'm soooooo very glad to know there are others like you out there--each of us bearing our swords alongside each other. It makes both the solitude and the togetherness lovelier.
Thank you, thank you, Alexander!
Well done! You done did it and it’s fantastic!
Bwahaha. Thank you, my friend. It was a struggle bus getting there. Finished it about when I sent it out--far into the wee hours that is.
The ramen and company earlier helped. ;)
Excaliber! One of the great lines in the movie, "Silver Linings Playbook". and yes, it's been a doozy of a week with ourselves "on the road again" for the past 7 days, from the middle of Mexico to the west coast and then north to AZ and on to NV. Here for the next week and then on east to OK before going back to Mexico. And yesterday added a new member to our twosome, a new 16 week old Moyen Poodle. So a travel companion who will require that we stop to pee more often than we might otherwise.
Oh my, that is a whole lot of mileage under those tires of yours. Forgive me if I feel a wee bit jealous. Ruby hasn't put nearly enough distance behind her tires lately. She's itching to move.
And yay on the addition. Have you settled on a name yet? I'd love to see photos. :)
Gary, that is serendipity. I just watched Silver Linings Playbook last night! I read the word excaliber and knew exactly where you were headed. And who knew a Moyen poodle is a "medium" poodle en francais? And that there are four recognized sizes in Europe? I love the random learning that happens here.
I love it too! And Gary was kind enough to send me a photo of the poodle in question. Absolutely adorable! If Substack allowed photos in comments, I’d share it here so we could all ooh and aw. ;)
Where do we sign that petition to permit photos in the comments thread? I didn't realize how much I think 'in photos'---this is why we have our private toad photo communication, Holly! My Substack post this coming Saturday is 100% inspired by Gary's moyen poodle! I've asked a friend with a miniature poodle named Scary for a photo. Gary, I'll tag you in the post (and thanks for the poodle intel!).
Like Durga, cutting through the bull shit with your sword of truth. Thanks for the reminder that we each carry that power within.
Haha! Sword of truth ♥️♥️♥️!
Thank you, Paulette. It's true, isn't it, that we all carry power within us far more than we often realize but that we can tap in times of need.
Your voice is like velvet.
Your story is lyrical and moving and surprising and interesting. I subscribed.
I want to recommend these two things for you to listen to:
1) Transom.org is an unbelievable resource for audio storytelling. And they have a great podcast. I am particularly enamored with this: https://transom.org/2024/retreat-and-make-stories-with-friends/
And another you may like: https://www.rumblestripvermont.com/episodes/422 The episode, Finn & The Bell won a Peabody.
Be well. I look forward to learning more about your voice and your stories.
In addition to my Moyen poodle education in the comments thread below, I also learned that the mesquite and fuzzy cholla were a type of plant and cacti. I never, ever considered that mesquite spice/rubs came from a dried, ground plant pod. Wow, what a day of revelation under your lemon moon. Thanks for the ride, Holly. A fuzzy cholla sounds like it should be a llama though.
There are soooo many different kind of cholla. The one I call fuzzy is the jumping cholla, also sometimes called teddy-bear cholla. And honestly, I can kind of see a resemblance to a llama. They have a very endearing and also kind of psychedelic look. But their barbs are nasty, and they’re called “jumping” because they literally jump (little bits of them) if you get too near.
“A day of revelation under your lemon moon.” Love it!
Thank you, my friend. I so very much appreciate your attention and engagement.
Instead of a Chia pet, I want a Cholla pet! My great-grandmother was a cacti fanatic (I'm sure I still have some of her cacti collection whiskers in my dermis). Thanks for the jumping cholla lesson---sounds like the porcupine of the plant world! However, I recently learned that porcupines don't actually 'shoot' quills. You have to be in whipping distance of their tail and make contact.
Whipping distance of their tails makes me shudder.
Ha! Be wary a cholla pet. Though it sounds lake your great-grandma has prepared you for the peril, and you are not afraid. ;)
I grew up having wild cucumber fights with my sister. Those things are great for sticking in long hair! So, those remnant cacti prickers were also sibling-related! A cholla pet is so perfect for branding and marketing though!
I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating — I love how flawless you weave different snippets together to create these cohesive stories that hit on so many different angles. The way you tell us about a literal sword but then use it as a metaphor as well. It’s soooo good Holly!
I enjoy all of your pieces, but I really enjoyed this one :)
Thank you, Michael!
You should know you’re one of my readers who regularly pops into my mind as I write. And I did think at some point, I bet Michael will like this one. ;)
I remember reading once that Liz Gilbert recommends writing to a single reader. I do that occasionally. But more often it’ll be a line or two that I write to a single reader. It’s a really fun practice that I think helps the writing.
That’s actually so awesome to hear there are times you think of me when writing lines — that feels like a strange honour I don’t deserve.
And yes, in Stephen King’s book on writing he said the same thing about writing to a single reader, he said it’s his wife. Mostly, I think of Evie, my partner, as she reads and critiques everything I write before it ever sees the light of day (and I do the same for her). But like you said, it does vary, when I’m writing about skating it’s more often a skate homie I think of. And there are definitely times I think of individuals in my Substack audience. You spring to mind most when I’m trying to describe landscapes or just descriptions in general — because honestly, I’m trying to pull from your magical way with words. :)
I’m just blown away that there was an actual sword. So many metaphorical swords here, and I just kept thinking there was no sword, until there was. I can’t even wrap my head around the how and the why of that sword being there in the middle of that terrain. Beautifully told. It definitely has that mythical feel of a sword out of time that appeared in a moment… kudos to you for picking it up.
I love the images your words create. - “Silver mountains that rise like gratitude.”
It is cool to see you next to the saguaro. I didn’t realize how big they are.
Thanks, Mamacita! I liked that line too.
Oh, some are huge. Even far larger than these guys. And some have lots of limbs.
♥️
Siegfried slew the dragon Fafnir with the sword Nothung. I think your prose is your sword and its beauty will help keep our wild hearts safe from the dragons that threaten us. Thank you for adding to the beauty of the world with your words.
Thank you, my friend. I thought of many swords during the composing of this essay but ended up decided not to evoke one in particular. I'm glad you've brought Nothung into the mix. ;)
I so very much appreciate you.
I'm sure you were right to leave the choice of sword to the reader! As it happens, when I read your your post I'd just been listening to Wagner's Siegfried and the scene where the hero forges the sword himself and heads off to slay the dragon. It's such an amazing world of sound and it was a further delight to make a connection with your beautiful essay.
What a delightful connection in deed. ;)
My lord this is stunning. Your writing and your telling.
Gah, Cici. I appreciate you so very much.
Swords to pens. This story is wonderfully meta. I fall into your lusciously painted landscapes while also arrested by the deeper brandishing you/we are experiencing collectively.
Yes to more pens.💛
More pens and more wild hearts. So very grateful for the fantastic collection of both I've found here.
Thank you, thank you, my friend.
Holly, the way you paint with words the beauty of the world as you travel and the harshness of our collective lives inspires me, to see the world through the eyes of an artist. And to be a better writer
Gah!!!! Paulette, this is one of the most wonderful things you could say. Thank you. I'm honored and grateful. ♥️
Holly, this is amazing. Interspersing the vignettes of real life sword plunges with your story in the desert makes it very memorable (aside from the obvious thing that finding that sword in the desert is amazing). The ending with the coyote is perfect. I think my favorite line is "Once she's planted a ruby-colored, van sized flag on a flat clearing, she steps out."
Aww, thank you, Donna. I really liked that line, too. I love it when readers point to lines I had fun coming up with.
Yeah finding that sword was so much fun. It's funny now to remember back to the fact that it did scare me when I first saw it. I was a bit skittish in those first months of life in the van. In some ways, I find it odd, as I'd traveled by backpack (on foot, train, bus) for months on end, both in and out of the United States. I'd traveled by bicycle. I think something felt more permanent about the vanlife maybe.
And the sword was this terrific moment of comic relief that transitioned me to pretty dang relaxed going forward--until the mice, that is, and a few other moments. Ha. :)
I'd be pretty nervous too, coming across a random sword parked alongside a plant! It sure makes for a great story.
Right?! What a weirdness. But I am delighted to have found it, no just for the storytelling purpose but also because it truly opened up something in me that I needed in just that moment. I relaxed and embraced the wildness of myself in a whole new wonderful way because of that sword.
That is so amazing! I’m glad you shared that story.