If you’re in the mood to read on your sabbatical, and you aren’t already familiar with Jenny Odell’s excellent book How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, I highly recommend it as conducive to fermentation.
(I think of that book and Fully Alive as sisters, because my sister and I read them together - she recommended your book to me, and I recommended Odell’s book to her, so we each read both back-to-back and had a very nourishing conversation afterwards about ancestral wisdom…and one of the main threads was about honoring the seasons.)
Either way - good on you for taking care of yourself! May your breadfruits ripen to just the right shade of golden crunchiness on your own tree of life before you harvest them to feed the masses. Or something like that.
Oh - on the admixture of grief and joy, my mind immediately went to Francis Weller’s book On the Wild Edge of Sorrow. Another good read for these times.
So well said, Elizabeth. You put into words the thoughts that I also have... I berate myself for not writing something and imagine I'm in some way failing at developing an avid following while at the same time resenting the artificial pull of a LinkedIn algorithm or mental concept of "must post to be relevant". I think your metaphor of proving is apt (and I note that proving has several meanings, no?) and... and now I'm actually quite hungry and will look for some fresh bread. As for writing, I'll let that proof some more. And I'm grateful to you for how you make honesty so darn attractive.
Especially appreciate this point: "So much that passes for wisdom nowadays is ultra-processed, repackaged, depersonalised, the life in it still faintly visible through the rebrand, but rapidly ebbing away." It's your resistance to that facelessness and voicelessness that keeps me coming back to your work. Thank you. Also, I worry about AI doing this to more and more of corporate communication. It's not exactly consoling to know that modern humans have always been all too good at this sort of voice-from-nowhere communication.
Here is a very delayed reaction, but anyway... I loved your text and especially your thoughts on the duality of life in periods of transition, the paradoxical feel of it. The reference to MacBeth was very apt I think: the murky forces at work globally affecting us all. Also, the poem by Rosemary Wahtola Trommer was really beautiful, and hopeful. Thank you for passing that on!
I would like to recommend a spiritual director and counsellor in the Ignatian tradition: Michelle Mope Andersson. Michelle is currently based in South Korea but works all over the world (more or less), and not only online. (We actually had a session in my corner of the globe - Sweden - last week!) Here is a link to Michelle's web page: https://mopeandersson.com/
Another book recommendation if you have brain space in August - I just finished The Future by Naomi Alderman, where she imagines how tech bros (and a bro-ette) would approach the end of the world. Brilliantly plotted but also with a lot of depth, she references the story of Abraham and Lot throughout. I thought particularly that you might like it because i recently listened to the Sacred episode with Sarah Wilson.
Supporting and applauding your decision to let your ideas ferment rather than posting for the sake of posting👏 I reckon it's a sign of maturity and discernment to know who you are as a writer and what you are here for. That said, for newer writers, sticking to a posting schedule could be helpful.
I recently shared something I'd first started working on in 2016. It's far from a masterpiece but I didn't feel ready to finish it until this year (and in the intervening time my perspective had changed a bit!). Yet I've also found the rhythm of publishing twice a month to be good for me - though I'd hope to have the judgment to break the rhythm if a post wasn't ready.
What a beautiful poem. This morning, I had an encounter with a stranger that left me feeling “devastated and stunned with joy” and I definitely didn’t have a word for how I was feeling. I went into a grocery store to buy some fresh fish, and the man behind the counter was very friendly and chatty, cracking jokes in the hope that his customers would smile. I felt he needed some sort of affirmation that what he was doing was beneficial for others so I said something like “it’s good to make people smile with what’s going on in the world”.That was all it took for our conversation to turn to Gaza because as it turned out, he is a Palestinian, born in Jerusalem. Before long, my tears started to flow and I couldn’t stop them. By the time he had my fish wrapped up, he came around the counter and kissed the parcel of fish, but because he probably felt that he couldn’t kiss me, he decided to give me a very big hug. He tried to console me saying that justice will prevail but I think my compassionate reaction was a blessing for him.
I think we are blessed with paradox (I love how the poem ends) by living in a world where electronic screens allow us to know and learn from people we otherwise would never meet but can turn us into slaves who continually churn out content or viewers who waste time, with everyone having their brains and bodies, never mind their souls meddled with. Well done Elizabeth, for choosing wisely!
Enjoy the break! In the meantime, in the thread that ties grief and joy, I really recommend these two essays by Lish Ciambrone: https://www.bruisermag.com/ciambrone_praisemusic101 and https://www.bruisermag.com/ciambrone_praisemusic102. They're both under the heading of "Praise Music for a Secular Life,"but she acknowledges their usefulness for believers, too, and their subtitle/overarching theme is "Suffer Well, Rejoice Better." (They are also told through the lens of two Bruce Springsteen albums, just as a head's up!)
If you’re in the mood to read on your sabbatical, and you aren’t already familiar with Jenny Odell’s excellent book How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, I highly recommend it as conducive to fermentation.
(I think of that book and Fully Alive as sisters, because my sister and I read them together - she recommended your book to me, and I recommended Odell’s book to her, so we each read both back-to-back and had a very nourishing conversation afterwards about ancestral wisdom…and one of the main threads was about honoring the seasons.)
Either way - good on you for taking care of yourself! May your breadfruits ripen to just the right shade of golden crunchiness on your own tree of life before you harvest them to feed the masses. Or something like that.
Oh - on the admixture of grief and joy, my mind immediately went to Francis Weller’s book On the Wild Edge of Sorrow. Another good read for these times.
I loved that book.
So well said, Elizabeth. You put into words the thoughts that I also have... I berate myself for not writing something and imagine I'm in some way failing at developing an avid following while at the same time resenting the artificial pull of a LinkedIn algorithm or mental concept of "must post to be relevant". I think your metaphor of proving is apt (and I note that proving has several meanings, no?) and... and now I'm actually quite hungry and will look for some fresh bread. As for writing, I'll let that proof some more. And I'm grateful to you for how you make honesty so darn attractive.
Especially appreciate this point: "So much that passes for wisdom nowadays is ultra-processed, repackaged, depersonalised, the life in it still faintly visible through the rebrand, but rapidly ebbing away." It's your resistance to that facelessness and voicelessness that keeps me coming back to your work. Thank you. Also, I worry about AI doing this to more and more of corporate communication. It's not exactly consoling to know that modern humans have always been all too good at this sort of voice-from-nowhere communication.
“Outbreaks of pretentious nihilism…” truly hilarious.
i thought a few readers might recognise the vibe
Haha completely unfamiliar.
Ha! For a moment there I thought you were confessing to an ACTUAL affair ... which would have been a whole other level in this podcast 🙂
Well, now you have given me a plan for if I ever do decide to play the algorithm.
Wishing you ease and joy. See you on the other side.
Here is a very delayed reaction, but anyway... I loved your text and especially your thoughts on the duality of life in periods of transition, the paradoxical feel of it. The reference to MacBeth was very apt I think: the murky forces at work globally affecting us all. Also, the poem by Rosemary Wahtola Trommer was really beautiful, and hopeful. Thank you for passing that on!
I would like to recommend a spiritual director and counsellor in the Ignatian tradition: Michelle Mope Andersson. Michelle is currently based in South Korea but works all over the world (more or less), and not only online. (We actually had a session in my corner of the globe - Sweden - last week!) Here is a link to Michelle's web page: https://mopeandersson.com/
Another book recommendation if you have brain space in August - I just finished The Future by Naomi Alderman, where she imagines how tech bros (and a bro-ette) would approach the end of the world. Brilliantly plotted but also with a lot of depth, she references the story of Abraham and Lot throughout. I thought particularly that you might like it because i recently listened to the Sacred episode with Sarah Wilson.
Supporting and applauding your decision to let your ideas ferment rather than posting for the sake of posting👏 I reckon it's a sign of maturity and discernment to know who you are as a writer and what you are here for. That said, for newer writers, sticking to a posting schedule could be helpful.
I recently shared something I'd first started working on in 2016. It's far from a masterpiece but I didn't feel ready to finish it until this year (and in the intervening time my perspective had changed a bit!). Yet I've also found the rhythm of publishing twice a month to be good for me - though I'd hope to have the judgment to break the rhythm if a post wasn't ready.
What a beautiful poem. This morning, I had an encounter with a stranger that left me feeling “devastated and stunned with joy” and I definitely didn’t have a word for how I was feeling. I went into a grocery store to buy some fresh fish, and the man behind the counter was very friendly and chatty, cracking jokes in the hope that his customers would smile. I felt he needed some sort of affirmation that what he was doing was beneficial for others so I said something like “it’s good to make people smile with what’s going on in the world”.That was all it took for our conversation to turn to Gaza because as it turned out, he is a Palestinian, born in Jerusalem. Before long, my tears started to flow and I couldn’t stop them. By the time he had my fish wrapped up, he came around the counter and kissed the parcel of fish, but because he probably felt that he couldn’t kiss me, he decided to give me a very big hug. He tried to console me saying that justice will prevail but I think my compassionate reaction was a blessing for him.
I think we are blessed with paradox (I love how the poem ends) by living in a world where electronic screens allow us to know and learn from people we otherwise would never meet but can turn us into slaves who continually churn out content or viewers who waste time, with everyone having their brains and bodies, never mind their souls meddled with. Well done Elizabeth, for choosing wisely!
Bless you and rest well, Elizabeth.
Have a good time being off and hopefully you have fun here in the US, your reading voice is great Elizabeth.
Enjoy the break! In the meantime, in the thread that ties grief and joy, I really recommend these two essays by Lish Ciambrone: https://www.bruisermag.com/ciambrone_praisemusic101 and https://www.bruisermag.com/ciambrone_praisemusic102. They're both under the heading of "Praise Music for a Secular Life,"but she acknowledges their usefulness for believers, too, and their subtitle/overarching theme is "Suffer Well, Rejoice Better." (They are also told through the lens of two Bruce Springsteen albums, just as a head's up!)
Several of your phrases here reminded me of this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tx17RvPMaQ8
One of my anthems!
So well said. I feel this way often. Enjoy your time of quiet a reflection. ❤️