I wonder if "not enough" is the great human temptation. Where does "not enough" come from? Lately, I think it is the mask of the inner critic, the voice of shame and inadequacy, I hear it all the time. "You don't write enough, aren't dedicated enough, brave enough, willing to sacrifice enough." The antidote for me is to become more present in the moment I'm living. I can't go back and remake the past, nor leap forward and embody the future. But I can pay better attention right here and see what it offers. Reading your post about whales and warblers encourages me to be attentive right here. There is so much undone in my life, and I should edit my sermon for this morning. But this week I saw a brilliant lunar eclipse. I heard seals howling down past the cove. And a woodpecker keeps hammering on the deck. What is up with him? Enough already!
I love this response so much, Todd. It does seem at least a great temptation among us humans humaning in these times. And this idea as “enough” being the mask of the critic. What? I’m not being critical. I’m just pointing out you could do more.
I so much appreciate you reading and sharing your impressions and your present. To the eclipse, to the sermon just as it is, to the howling seals, and even to that woodpecker. So glad you’re here, my friend, contemplating how to show up alongside me.
HI Holly. I didn't listen. This morning I chose to read, instead, and linger a bit over your words and beautifully crafted sentences. This arrived in my heart this morning like an ode to longing. I could feel the aching sensation, that familiar tug. Beautiful. Thank you. Sister.
Holly, your writing always stuns and soothes me, then surprises me with unexpected turns, and leaves me saying, aloud, Ohhhhh. This: "A Blackburnian warbler weighs 1/3 of an ounce. A humpback, 35 tons. A human heart, 8 ounces. And each of us turns to the sun. Our wings, our fins, our feet, our roots know intimately the 584 million miles our earth travels every year." and THIS! "my heart feels like it’s peering through bars." Yes, that feeling of not *being* enough is with me always. To escape it? Sit with a tree, study moss, watch a great blue heron fishing.
Gah! Julie, thank you. The unexpected turns piece makes me giddy. I often aim to give myself a little start—a moment or an idea of a topic—and if I can surprise myself (and even better readers), I’m delighted.
I’ve thought of you and your highlighting of nature writing lately as I’m writing. I’m grateful to have nature writing highlighted because it’s important in its ability to stir wonder and connection to our planet and all her creatures.
Sit with a tree. Study moss. Watch blue heron. Wonderful! This is a recipe I can behind.
Yes. Yes. And yes. Countless times have felt not good enough and even more times have wanted to hit the road and escape. I love your description of the high end escape modes as I've often looked longingly at my neighbors across the street. First at their Mercedes sprinter van which they then traded in to get a spanky new gorgeous truck and the most astounding little tear drop trailer with "wheels that don't take no for an answer" (love that line). The I turn and feast my eyes on our beloved, dilapidated, old trailer that is oozing with memories and wouldn't trade it for the world.
I do so many things I wish I wouldn't do but my main drug of choice is sugar. The thing I wish I would do much more of is consistently sit in silence, I am so fortunate that I frequently walk in silence in beautiful places but for some reason my inner self also yearns to sit and simply be...then I allow life to get in the way.
Gosh, Donna, I feel like much of this was taken straight from my own songbook, particularly your last paragraph. What's that word Holly repeated...sister? <3
“Oozing with memories!” Love that. Love thinking of your old trailer getting all that love.
Oh yes, I know about life getting in the way of sitting in silence. I find the quiet more on the road for sure. But I am a driven creature and am, wherever or however I’m living, trying to strike a balance between “good drive” and the wisdom of peace in being.
Thank you ever so much for reading and sharing your thoughts, Donna. ♥️
"Stationary doesn’t suit me." Ditto. Sometimes restlessness unnamed percolates until it ceases, or until I have a thought or do something that eases that tension. Sometimes it dissipates. Restlessness has been my companion for decades, and I treasure it. It can open my heart and mind and soul to find the answer to any longing.
Oh, Mary, I love this perspective. There’s almost something deliciously subversive about embracing restlessness—opening to it and understanding it can guide you to the answers to longing. Beautiful. Thank you for this.
This was so beautiful. It felt like reading:listening to poetry as an essay, and your voice made me want it to never end.
In re doing v being:
The thing about “doing” is that when you get sick, you really just have to let yourself “be”. And just be. I remember the inner thrashing of my early days of Lyme disease, before I let go of the identity I held onto so desperately. My need to do as a way of proving/providing my worth…now I realize how exhausting that was and how much that orientation to the world drained me. Now I celebrate (or, rather, and still learning to celebrate) myself simply because I am. My “being”. My nothingness and how that is just as dynamic and beautiful and meaningful and valuable to the world as all the things I used to do. It’s allowed me to soften so much, and to let life flow through me. Big diagnoses (I read your other post, and I am so sorry) come with so many different facets, but learning to release the doing and allow the being remains the biggest blessing of mine. 🤍🤍
“I celebrate me because I am. My ‘being’. My nothingness and how that is just as dynamic and beautiful and meaningful and valuable to the world as all the things I used to do.” Beautiful, Cici. Thank you so much for sharing.
Ooof, Lyme is so rough. I’m so sorry it was something you’ve had to confront. How are you now on that path?
And, gah! Thank you for your kind words on my essay and reading. I love audio mucho, so I’m working to improve he quality of mine.
Lyme (the way I have it) is a forever thing. I accidentally ate gluten this week, so I have been a mess. It’s little things like that that will throw off the balance of my entire house of cards. But luckily I’m not in a flare and have been feeling really well (reducing stress has been a HUGE help).
How are you doing/processing/feeling?
And I’m sure you know of it and maybe even already use it, but I use descript for my audios - it makes editing so easy (not perfect, but easy). Your audio is perfect, though. You have the kind of voice people could get lost in…
I love the connectedness, the web, the kinship of this post. The repetition of Sister. The gentleness. And the images you paint with your words are so beautiful.
Oh yes, I know that feeling, and its corollary "never will have/be/do" enough; I'm so glad I put that down by the side of the road and kept walking. Absolutely GORGEOUS imagery, Holly, as always. 💜
What breathtaking essay. I felt transported. Happy almost birthday to you, Holly! May it be a grand celebration. I of course wish you wellness and joy and magic and stillness.
There is something about traveling by your own means and of your own volition. Not relying on buses or planes or anyone or thing else. Being able to flow with currents and paddle up stream if you want to. I miss it, having a vehicle to take me wherever I want to go. And just enjoying the travel where ever it takes me.
Do you feel less free to go wherever you want to go these days living backpack life?
I felt sooo free back when I was traveling with just a backpack and had so few possessions and didn’t feel like I needed more. But I wonder if it would feel the same now. I wonder if I’d be more antsy, less content to sit along the side of the road and see what came along, that sort of thing. I mean, having become used to the van, my giant purse, having acquired more things, having more of an agenda.
Yes, traveling by backpacks would probably be better if we were younger. We want to be comfortable and I've become a bit picky about the places we stay in. There has to be lots of Light- big windows. And a kitchen to make pur own food because my gut is so sensative. And a privete bathroom is super nice. And it needs to be clean and comfortable (a nice copy couch).
Because of all this we are booking accomon5ahead of time. We are booked to almost the end of November. We’ve got some really interesting places coming up! We are in a super beautiful place right now in the Mindo cloud Forest. I can't believe how nice this hostel is!
If I were younger and single, I supposed I could be more on the fly. But I need to know where we are going and how we are going to get there ahead of time. I love taking buses but figuring how to get from onevplace to another can be a chore. It is so much easier to get in your rig and just drive where ever you want to go. We will miss lots of places due to not havingvour own transportation. I mean there are taxis and buses but they can't take you everywhere.
To a certain extend I'm enjoying not buying stuff with my excuse, Somos mochileros, no tenemos espacio para recuerdos. But yes, I do miss having all my stuff.
You would know if this is true for you far better than I but I do remember many times in my life when motion, just being in motion, took me away from the angst of uncertainty -- what was it I was SUPPOSED to be doing as if there were someone judging my performance . The restlessness I felt many times (not always) was rooted in a feeling of never knowing what exactly made the most sense to do. It has taken years to understand which voices to listen to and years to let the voices of the beings around me in as you have so beautifully captured here. Reading this reminds me of the wonders in every single creature and every single moment.
Yes, Elizabeth, this is such a wonderful reflection. Being in motion, whatever motion is possible in any give. Set of circumstances, is soooo good for a body. And exactly for the reason you said—to leave the angst of uncertainty behind.
I keep longing for a certain kind of motion. But I must remember that there are many ways to move and to find the wonder in every creature, every moment.
Oh, yes, I have a nagging feeling always of having not done enough, having never been quite what I should have been, always running in the pack at the back of the race. But what the hey, do people have to be as famous as Alexander the Great or else their life is a waste? It's nonsense, some strange vestigial brain washing from childhood. Sanity returns when I settle down and observe. Biology, mostly, rather than merely human stories. Everything biological is sacred.
And thank you so much for linking to my Substack. That is generous and kind of you.
Right?! Observation is such a powerful thing. It’s, for me, the best way to find grace and peace and reset myself.
And of course. I read about the warbler right after I’d written about the whale. I knew the essay needed one more thing, and that night I thought about the warbler and thought, oh, exactly. And I teared up a little and was so thankful for all us migrating (whether geographically or otherwise) creatures finding nourishment and what we need from this little planet we share and of our connections with one another. So thank you!!
our descriptions of the whale's journey and the warbler's migration are breathtaking. They ignite a sense of wanderlust in me and remind me of the incredible beauty and resilience of the natural world. I'm also feeling inspired to embrace my own nomadic spirit and explore new horizons!
I think, too, something I'm trying to tell myself (in this piece) is that call--to wanderlust, to nomadic spirit, to our own migrations--can be answered close by (in the fig tree in the yard, the river where the osprey hunt just down the road) as well as farther afield. I'm learning to embrace that more and more and that we're all constantly in emotion, constantly in connection with the travels each other take.
Thank you so much for being here and for commenting, Alexander. I so appreciate your thoughts and reflections and how they guide me to think more about the topic at hand.
Oh, I love that. Because often there is a simplicity to our needs, and it doesn’t require something elaborate (that then makes it easier to deny ourselves the satisfaction of a need).
After my accident in July, I haven’t been able to get out into the fall mountains - my favorite thing every year (oh the beautiful colors). It’s been draining. But I have found a little grove near my home that doesn’t take much effort to get to. I can do it and not regret it. And it’s helped me still meet the need of getting out in nature and grounding…even if I can’t do it the way I want. So, I think I’ve unintentionally been practicing what you have shared. Ha!
Thank you for sharing what you do! I love opening up your latest newsletter each time it hits my inbox.
What happened in July, if I can ask? And how are you?
I love love that you’ve found that nearby grove. It’s a simple truth I have to remind myself of (especially given my call to wander) that no matter where I am, without exception, there is something nearby to enchant my senses and bring my stillness and wonder.
Yes! We are surrounded by the world, surrounded by experiences. We just have to be open to them.
Ah - in July I was in a 7-car accident and was hit by a semi. My brain took some big hits, and i’ve been in intensive rehab.
It has been an experience, for sure. I’m doing better - I can talk again, I can move again - so I’m super grateful. But I just don’t have much stamina for physical activity and I have a constant migraine. And my muscles do some weird things - which has been fun to experience.
But overall - I’m just grateful to be here! I was very lucky. Thank you for asking!
I mean this in the best possible way, Holly — as a writer your descriptions make me jealous. Like goddamn they are soooo good. You make me feel like I’m there with you, looking out over those views, and envious of those other motor homes.
Your descriptions also have that magical way of telling me more about you and your internal feelings without outright saying it — which is masterful.
Gah! Michael, thank you. I think I could receive no higher a compliment. There's nothing like structuring and restructuring a piece and then the sentences to get closer and closer to what I mean to show or convey. As a fantastic writer and storyteller yourself, I'm sure you share that particular joy with me.
As always, you're being here and sharing your thoughts means a great deal, my friend.
The "escape plan" speaks to me so much. I remember a conversation with my dad years ago, when he was still alive, in which we both shared that need to always have an escape plan. As if what we had right now was never enough. My current spot is the first time I've ever been somewhere where I'm not plotting my escape. My hubby even mentioned "we've been here for over a year now, this feels weird".
Oh, that's lovely, Sophie! It sounds like that must say a lot about where you are right now (and more than just geographically)? The fact you're not thinking of escape when that is often your mode. It also seem kinda sweet that you were able to share that with your dad, that understanding into each others' hearts.
I wonder if "not enough" is the great human temptation. Where does "not enough" come from? Lately, I think it is the mask of the inner critic, the voice of shame and inadequacy, I hear it all the time. "You don't write enough, aren't dedicated enough, brave enough, willing to sacrifice enough." The antidote for me is to become more present in the moment I'm living. I can't go back and remake the past, nor leap forward and embody the future. But I can pay better attention right here and see what it offers. Reading your post about whales and warblers encourages me to be attentive right here. There is so much undone in my life, and I should edit my sermon for this morning. But this week I saw a brilliant lunar eclipse. I heard seals howling down past the cove. And a woodpecker keeps hammering on the deck. What is up with him? Enough already!
Bwahaha. That woodpecker.
I love this response so much, Todd. It does seem at least a great temptation among us humans humaning in these times. And this idea as “enough” being the mask of the critic. What? I’m not being critical. I’m just pointing out you could do more.
I so much appreciate you reading and sharing your impressions and your present. To the eclipse, to the sermon just as it is, to the howling seals, and even to that woodpecker. So glad you’re here, my friend, contemplating how to show up alongside me.
HI Holly. I didn't listen. This morning I chose to read, instead, and linger a bit over your words and beautifully crafted sentences. This arrived in my heart this morning like an ode to longing. I could feel the aching sensation, that familiar tug. Beautiful. Thank you. Sister.
I replied to this further down, but meant for it to go here on this particular thread chain. So I'm saying it again:
Sister indeed. Thank you, Cathy. I am ever so grateful you’re here. 💕
An ode to longing. I love that.
Holly, your writing always stuns and soothes me, then surprises me with unexpected turns, and leaves me saying, aloud, Ohhhhh. This: "A Blackburnian warbler weighs 1/3 of an ounce. A humpback, 35 tons. A human heart, 8 ounces. And each of us turns to the sun. Our wings, our fins, our feet, our roots know intimately the 584 million miles our earth travels every year." and THIS! "my heart feels like it’s peering through bars." Yes, that feeling of not *being* enough is with me always. To escape it? Sit with a tree, study moss, watch a great blue heron fishing.
Gah! Julie, thank you. The unexpected turns piece makes me giddy. I often aim to give myself a little start—a moment or an idea of a topic—and if I can surprise myself (and even better readers), I’m delighted.
I’ve thought of you and your highlighting of nature writing lately as I’m writing. I’m grateful to have nature writing highlighted because it’s important in its ability to stir wonder and connection to our planet and all her creatures.
Sit with a tree. Study moss. Watch blue heron. Wonderful! This is a recipe I can behind.
Yes. Yes. And yes. Countless times have felt not good enough and even more times have wanted to hit the road and escape. I love your description of the high end escape modes as I've often looked longingly at my neighbors across the street. First at their Mercedes sprinter van which they then traded in to get a spanky new gorgeous truck and the most astounding little tear drop trailer with "wheels that don't take no for an answer" (love that line). The I turn and feast my eyes on our beloved, dilapidated, old trailer that is oozing with memories and wouldn't trade it for the world.
I do so many things I wish I wouldn't do but my main drug of choice is sugar. The thing I wish I would do much more of is consistently sit in silence, I am so fortunate that I frequently walk in silence in beautiful places but for some reason my inner self also yearns to sit and simply be...then I allow life to get in the way.
Gosh, Donna, I feel like much of this was taken straight from my own songbook, particularly your last paragraph. What's that word Holly repeated...sister? <3
Dahhhhh! Love this, Elizabeth … sister. 😍
❤
“Oozing with memories!” Love that. Love thinking of your old trailer getting all that love.
Oh yes, I know about life getting in the way of sitting in silence. I find the quiet more on the road for sure. But I am a driven creature and am, wherever or however I’m living, trying to strike a balance between “good drive” and the wisdom of peace in being.
Thank you ever so much for reading and sharing your thoughts, Donna. ♥️
"Stationary doesn’t suit me." Ditto. Sometimes restlessness unnamed percolates until it ceases, or until I have a thought or do something that eases that tension. Sometimes it dissipates. Restlessness has been my companion for decades, and I treasure it. It can open my heart and mind and soul to find the answer to any longing.
Oh, Mary, I love this perspective. There’s almost something deliciously subversive about embracing restlessness—opening to it and understanding it can guide you to the answers to longing. Beautiful. Thank you for this.
This was so beautiful. It felt like reading:listening to poetry as an essay, and your voice made me want it to never end.
In re doing v being:
The thing about “doing” is that when you get sick, you really just have to let yourself “be”. And just be. I remember the inner thrashing of my early days of Lyme disease, before I let go of the identity I held onto so desperately. My need to do as a way of proving/providing my worth…now I realize how exhausting that was and how much that orientation to the world drained me. Now I celebrate (or, rather, and still learning to celebrate) myself simply because I am. My “being”. My nothingness and how that is just as dynamic and beautiful and meaningful and valuable to the world as all the things I used to do. It’s allowed me to soften so much, and to let life flow through me. Big diagnoses (I read your other post, and I am so sorry) come with so many different facets, but learning to release the doing and allow the being remains the biggest blessing of mine. 🤍🤍
“I celebrate me because I am. My ‘being’. My nothingness and how that is just as dynamic and beautiful and meaningful and valuable to the world as all the things I used to do.” Beautiful, Cici. Thank you so much for sharing.
Ooof, Lyme is so rough. I’m so sorry it was something you’ve had to confront. How are you now on that path?
And, gah! Thank you for your kind words on my essay and reading. I love audio mucho, so I’m working to improve he quality of mine.
To do just being. ♥️
Lyme (the way I have it) is a forever thing. I accidentally ate gluten this week, so I have been a mess. It’s little things like that that will throw off the balance of my entire house of cards. But luckily I’m not in a flare and have been feeling really well (reducing stress has been a HUGE help).
How are you doing/processing/feeling?
And I’m sure you know of it and maybe even already use it, but I use descript for my audios - it makes editing so easy (not perfect, but easy). Your audio is perfect, though. You have the kind of voice people could get lost in…
I loved listening. Your voice tranced me into so many details, smells and textures and landscapes gorgeous more than enough. Thank you so much.
Dah!! Prajna, thank you. What a wonderful thing to hear. I sooooo love audio. So it delights me no end to know mine’s working for listeners.
Thank you so much for listening and sharing. ♥️
I love the connectedness, the web, the kinship of this post. The repetition of Sister. The gentleness. And the images you paint with your words are so beautiful.
Thank you, thank you, Rebecca. That repetition came in on a later draft. It was one of those additions where I was like, yes, that’s what was missing.
I appreciate you reading and commenting ever so much. ♥️
Oh yes, I know that feeling, and its corollary "never will have/be/do" enough; I'm so glad I put that down by the side of the road and kept walking. Absolutely GORGEOUS imagery, Holly, as always. 💜
I’m so glad you put that down by the side of the road! Such a gift to self.
Thank you, my friend. I had a lovely time remembering that boat and that whale 💕🐋
What breathtaking essay. I felt transported. Happy almost birthday to you, Holly! May it be a grand celebration. I of course wish you wellness and joy and magic and stillness.
Aww, the perfect wishes. 💕
Thank you, Nadia. I’m ever so grateful for you.
You deserve all the best, dear Holly!
There is something about traveling by your own means and of your own volition. Not relying on buses or planes or anyone or thing else. Being able to flow with currents and paddle up stream if you want to. I miss it, having a vehicle to take me wherever I want to go. And just enjoying the travel where ever it takes me.
Yes, truth. It is a lovely lovely thing.
Do you feel less free to go wherever you want to go these days living backpack life?
I felt sooo free back when I was traveling with just a backpack and had so few possessions and didn’t feel like I needed more. But I wonder if it would feel the same now. I wonder if I’d be more antsy, less content to sit along the side of the road and see what came along, that sort of thing. I mean, having become used to the van, my giant purse, having acquired more things, having more of an agenda.
Yes, traveling by backpacks would probably be better if we were younger. We want to be comfortable and I've become a bit picky about the places we stay in. There has to be lots of Light- big windows. And a kitchen to make pur own food because my gut is so sensative. And a privete bathroom is super nice. And it needs to be clean and comfortable (a nice copy couch).
Because of all this we are booking accomon5ahead of time. We are booked to almost the end of November. We’ve got some really interesting places coming up! We are in a super beautiful place right now in the Mindo cloud Forest. I can't believe how nice this hostel is!
If I were younger and single, I supposed I could be more on the fly. But I need to know where we are going and how we are going to get there ahead of time. I love taking buses but figuring how to get from onevplace to another can be a chore. It is so much easier to get in your rig and just drive where ever you want to go. We will miss lots of places due to not havingvour own transportation. I mean there are taxis and buses but they can't take you everywhere.
To a certain extend I'm enjoying not buying stuff with my excuse, Somos mochileros, no tenemos espacio para recuerdos. But yes, I do miss having all my stuff.
You would know if this is true for you far better than I but I do remember many times in my life when motion, just being in motion, took me away from the angst of uncertainty -- what was it I was SUPPOSED to be doing as if there were someone judging my performance . The restlessness I felt many times (not always) was rooted in a feeling of never knowing what exactly made the most sense to do. It has taken years to understand which voices to listen to and years to let the voices of the beings around me in as you have so beautifully captured here. Reading this reminds me of the wonders in every single creature and every single moment.
Yes, Elizabeth, this is such a wonderful reflection. Being in motion, whatever motion is possible in any give. Set of circumstances, is soooo good for a body. And exactly for the reason you said—to leave the angst of uncertainty behind.
I keep longing for a certain kind of motion. But I must remember that there are many ways to move and to find the wonder in every creature, every moment.
Thank you for this reflection.
Oh, yes, I have a nagging feeling always of having not done enough, having never been quite what I should have been, always running in the pack at the back of the race. But what the hey, do people have to be as famous as Alexander the Great or else their life is a waste? It's nonsense, some strange vestigial brain washing from childhood. Sanity returns when I settle down and observe. Biology, mostly, rather than merely human stories. Everything biological is sacred.
And thank you so much for linking to my Substack. That is generous and kind of you.
Right?! Observation is such a powerful thing. It’s, for me, the best way to find grace and peace and reset myself.
And of course. I read about the warbler right after I’d written about the whale. I knew the essay needed one more thing, and that night I thought about the warbler and thought, oh, exactly. And I teared up a little and was so thankful for all us migrating (whether geographically or otherwise) creatures finding nourishment and what we need from this little planet we share and of our connections with one another. So thank you!!
our descriptions of the whale's journey and the warbler's migration are breathtaking. They ignite a sense of wanderlust in me and remind me of the incredible beauty and resilience of the natural world. I'm also feeling inspired to embrace my own nomadic spirit and explore new horizons!
Yasss! I love to hear that.
I think, too, something I'm trying to tell myself (in this piece) is that call--to wanderlust, to nomadic spirit, to our own migrations--can be answered close by (in the fig tree in the yard, the river where the osprey hunt just down the road) as well as farther afield. I'm learning to embrace that more and more and that we're all constantly in emotion, constantly in connection with the travels each other take.
Thank you so much for being here and for commenting, Alexander. I so appreciate your thoughts and reflections and how they guide me to think more about the topic at hand.
Oh, I love that. Because often there is a simplicity to our needs, and it doesn’t require something elaborate (that then makes it easier to deny ourselves the satisfaction of a need).
After my accident in July, I haven’t been able to get out into the fall mountains - my favorite thing every year (oh the beautiful colors). It’s been draining. But I have found a little grove near my home that doesn’t take much effort to get to. I can do it and not regret it. And it’s helped me still meet the need of getting out in nature and grounding…even if I can’t do it the way I want. So, I think I’ve unintentionally been practicing what you have shared. Ha!
Thank you for sharing what you do! I love opening up your latest newsletter each time it hits my inbox.
What happened in July, if I can ask? And how are you?
I love love that you’ve found that nearby grove. It’s a simple truth I have to remind myself of (especially given my call to wander) that no matter where I am, without exception, there is something nearby to enchant my senses and bring my stillness and wonder.
♥️
Yes! We are surrounded by the world, surrounded by experiences. We just have to be open to them.
Ah - in July I was in a 7-car accident and was hit by a semi. My brain took some big hits, and i’ve been in intensive rehab.
It has been an experience, for sure. I’m doing better - I can talk again, I can move again - so I’m super grateful. But I just don’t have much stamina for physical activity and I have a constant migraine. And my muscles do some weird things - which has been fun to experience.
But overall - I’m just grateful to be here! I was very lucky. Thank you for asking!
I mean this in the best possible way, Holly — as a writer your descriptions make me jealous. Like goddamn they are soooo good. You make me feel like I’m there with you, looking out over those views, and envious of those other motor homes.
Your descriptions also have that magical way of telling me more about you and your internal feelings without outright saying it — which is masterful.
:)
Gah! Michael, thank you. I think I could receive no higher a compliment. There's nothing like structuring and restructuring a piece and then the sentences to get closer and closer to what I mean to show or convey. As a fantastic writer and storyteller yourself, I'm sure you share that particular joy with me.
As always, you're being here and sharing your thoughts means a great deal, my friend.
I most certainly share that joy with you, Holly. It’s the best! :)
The "escape plan" speaks to me so much. I remember a conversation with my dad years ago, when he was still alive, in which we both shared that need to always have an escape plan. As if what we had right now was never enough. My current spot is the first time I've ever been somewhere where I'm not plotting my escape. My hubby even mentioned "we've been here for over a year now, this feels weird".
Oh, that's lovely, Sophie! It sounds like that must say a lot about where you are right now (and more than just geographically)? The fact you're not thinking of escape when that is often your mode. It also seem kinda sweet that you were able to share that with your dad, that understanding into each others' hearts.
Thank you much for sharing.