1. You’re an anchor; your words and experiences help anchor me. 2. Thank you for sharing my book! 3. I feel very very “wow life is amazing off instagram!” now but for years I did not. I felt broken; for example, only now that it’s becoming more normalized for people to leave and many are does it not feel like career suicide.
Depth. It’s brave and hard and beautiful. And so utterly counter cultural. Thank you for these gentle words at the start of a new year, Lisa. They were a soft place to land. May we feel held and safe as we navigate the rich soil of our lives.
Brave and hard and beautiful and counter cultural... oof yes. Thank you for the shared kinship in it, for being in the navigation alongside from afar. 💛
Per #3: there is an old Ponderosa pine that I visit every time I visit my favorite walking place that was knocked over by a horrific windstorm we suffered last summer. It is a great loss, especially now, seeing all the needles that remained green for a couple months have slowly turned brown. Visiting it ever since has always been cause for renewed grief. I've wondered how many years I would need to pass by for the hand print I leave on the fallen trunk to be revealed by other passers-by? Longer than I have time left, certainly. One of my commitments for this year is to attempt 500 hours just sitting, outside, device free, in contemplation, making notes in my journal, etc. Earlier this week I visited the tree and found a spot to sit on the trunk near where the tremendous root ball is revealed to spend 30 minutes or so; others passed along the nearby trail and I'm certain I was invisible to them, but not so to the great blue herons hunting the adjacent field, or to the red tail hawk who soared overhead and yelled at me a couple times. It was beautiful and peaceful. I considered how that tree has transitioned into a new way of being in service to other relatives in an entirely different way, which is a good nudge for me to reflect on my need to do the same as I get older.
This made me cry, Chris -- the beauty and grief and reverence and devotion held in your words, in your seeing, in your getting close to the wiseness of those relatives. Thank you for sharing this here; it rang awake something within me. And that reflection on the tree's transition to being of service in an entirely different way... Wow. Thank you thank you.
So many good words of wisdom here! It can be jarring when we’re told a narrative that change will feel welcome and good when it’s honestly a shock to our system at first. It takes a long time before it actually feels natural to settle into our new selves. Shared this one on my Insta! Thank you for writing.
Wow. I’m again awed by how your realizations touch the same roots I find at my place in life. This one particularly:
“I feel raw, exposed, like my modes of protection continue melting and I haven’t yet fully learned how to replace them — or, more accurate, how to not replace them…”
I used to think this was a ‘ridge-top’ kind of state, because it felt so tenuous, unstable standing there, “unprotected” - but recently, it dawned on me, because I found myself sliding there so often, that it might just be a ‘valley’ state - more natural, more surrounded by living things, flowing water, birds… and actually easier to exist in, because it takes less energy to stay, more relaxing, less filled with careful steps and self doubt.
I think you are blessed with seeing this so early in life, because now you have a chance to see it blossom and fruit for yourself, and for others by sharing your experience.
I’m grateful for how good it feels to read your kindred words :-).
So grateful for the kindredness, the connection, the reflections. The ridgetop versus valley state... such a profound way of seeing it all, of holding it all. Thank you for sharing that generous reflection that feels so incredibly close. 💛
I often find it tempting, when feeling overwhelmed, to believe those modes of protection are some essential part of myself… until I recognize the fear lurking behind, them… and I feel the aha!
That aha, yes! Such a gift to remember the essence of who we are exists underneath those layers of protection -- that the layers make sense and, at the same time, they are not us. <3
Lisa, your reflections on leaving the apps (instagram in particular) are deeply resonating with me. I'm finding it's taking sincere effort to rewire that part of my brain that's craving the mindless disengagement from what's here and what's real. I'm reminded of this sentiment from Mary Karr:
"If you live in the dark a long time and the sun comes out, you do not cross into it whistling. There's an initial uprush of relief at first, then-for me, anyway- a profound dislocation. My old assumptions about how the world works are buried, yet my new ones aren't yet operational."
Cheers to staying with that profound dislocation just a little bit longer.
This is absolutely beautiful, Lisa. Your connection with the redwood as a mother figure was so comforting to read – a needed reminder that such deep solace can always be found in nature. Also, I love that you stumbled upon your old Blogspot and connected with your writings from nearly two decades ago! I recently logged into my old blog from around the same era and it was such a joy to witness just how much I've remained rooted to my core interests (and have evolved a lot) at the same time.
Thank you so, Lindsay -- there is something so meaningful about remembering the parts of us that remain true, that have always been pulled by similar interests -- while also noticing what's changed. It felt like such comfort to see what hasn't changed in spite of how different I,and my life, are now. Grateful for the resonance <3
The idea of shedding old skin and embracing vulnerability, even when it feels uncomfortable, is something I've been grappling with lately. It's like there's a constant tension between the desire for protection and the yearning for authentic connection. Your words give me permission to sit with the discomfort and trust that something beautiful might emerge from it. Thank you for sharing your journey with such honesty.
Lisa, thank you for this. I have been going through such a similar experience. Of sitting inside the discomfort of awakening into myself, of deepening. Of touching into my wounds and feeling the pain without recoiling. Of facing the internalized shame and embarrassment and realizing that no matter how much I try to "let go" and "release", the layers go so deep that every cycle brings me back into those emotions. This week has been so heightened, has me feeling so raw and sensitive, and it's precisely because I am truly holding onto my needs and acknowledging that I feel shame around those needs. Thank you for this reflection, it's always so helpful.
The depth of those layers, the tenderness of having to return again and again, only to find new grooves to tend to... I'm with you. It's such a process, such a big undertaking to stay with it all. And what a gift to find more holding of your needs, more acknowledgement of what's stirring inside. I'm so grateful to know my own experience is mirrored in some small way, that we're never really walking these deep internal landscapes alone. Thank you for saying so 💛
Each and every day I am thankful for the Libby app. Yesterday I was doing a digital cleaning of my files from this past year and saw I had saved an old post of yours as a pdf. Your words are so helpful. Thankful to you too.
thank you for articulating how I've been feeling. I've been struggling to find the words and you have spoken them! Here's to slowing down, pausing in the mud.
1. You’re an anchor; your words and experiences help anchor me. 2. Thank you for sharing my book! 3. I feel very very “wow life is amazing off instagram!” now but for years I did not. I felt broken; for example, only now that it’s becoming more normalized for people to leave and many are does it not feel like career suicide.
The normalization is so so helpful and also mirrors how hard it is for so many... so very grateful for you and all you do/are/be xx
Also your photos are one of my favorite parts of this column
Knowing this makes my heart feel warm 😭
Agreed.
Depth. It’s brave and hard and beautiful. And so utterly counter cultural. Thank you for these gentle words at the start of a new year, Lisa. They were a soft place to land. May we feel held and safe as we navigate the rich soil of our lives.
Brave and hard and beautiful and counter cultural... oof yes. Thank you for the shared kinship in it, for being in the navigation alongside from afar. 💛
Per #3: there is an old Ponderosa pine that I visit every time I visit my favorite walking place that was knocked over by a horrific windstorm we suffered last summer. It is a great loss, especially now, seeing all the needles that remained green for a couple months have slowly turned brown. Visiting it ever since has always been cause for renewed grief. I've wondered how many years I would need to pass by for the hand print I leave on the fallen trunk to be revealed by other passers-by? Longer than I have time left, certainly. One of my commitments for this year is to attempt 500 hours just sitting, outside, device free, in contemplation, making notes in my journal, etc. Earlier this week I visited the tree and found a spot to sit on the trunk near where the tremendous root ball is revealed to spend 30 minutes or so; others passed along the nearby trail and I'm certain I was invisible to them, but not so to the great blue herons hunting the adjacent field, or to the red tail hawk who soared overhead and yelled at me a couple times. It was beautiful and peaceful. I considered how that tree has transitioned into a new way of being in service to other relatives in an entirely different way, which is a good nudge for me to reflect on my need to do the same as I get older.
This made me cry, Chris -- the beauty and grief and reverence and devotion held in your words, in your seeing, in your getting close to the wiseness of those relatives. Thank you for sharing this here; it rang awake something within me. And that reflection on the tree's transition to being of service in an entirely different way... Wow. Thank you thank you.
❤️
So many good words of wisdom here! It can be jarring when we’re told a narrative that change will feel welcome and good when it’s honestly a shock to our system at first. It takes a long time before it actually feels natural to settle into our new selves. Shared this one on my Insta! Thank you for writing.
Yes yes yes to this. Thank you for reading, for sharing, for taking the time 💛
Lisa, You are growing - deepening with every turn. D
Thank you for reading as always xx
Wow. I’m again awed by how your realizations touch the same roots I find at my place in life. This one particularly:
“I feel raw, exposed, like my modes of protection continue melting and I haven’t yet fully learned how to replace them — or, more accurate, how to not replace them…”
I used to think this was a ‘ridge-top’ kind of state, because it felt so tenuous, unstable standing there, “unprotected” - but recently, it dawned on me, because I found myself sliding there so often, that it might just be a ‘valley’ state - more natural, more surrounded by living things, flowing water, birds… and actually easier to exist in, because it takes less energy to stay, more relaxing, less filled with careful steps and self doubt.
I think you are blessed with seeing this so early in life, because now you have a chance to see it blossom and fruit for yourself, and for others by sharing your experience.
I’m grateful for how good it feels to read your kindred words :-).
So grateful for the kindredness, the connection, the reflections. The ridgetop versus valley state... such a profound way of seeing it all, of holding it all. Thank you for sharing that generous reflection that feels so incredibly close. 💛
I often find it tempting, when feeling overwhelmed, to believe those modes of protection are some essential part of myself… until I recognize the fear lurking behind, them… and I feel the aha!
That aha, yes! Such a gift to remember the essence of who we are exists underneath those layers of protection -- that the layers make sense and, at the same time, they are not us. <3
Lisa, your reflections on leaving the apps (instagram in particular) are deeply resonating with me. I'm finding it's taking sincere effort to rewire that part of my brain that's craving the mindless disengagement from what's here and what's real. I'm reminded of this sentiment from Mary Karr:
"If you live in the dark a long time and the sun comes out, you do not cross into it whistling. There's an initial uprush of relief at first, then-for me, anyway- a profound dislocation. My old assumptions about how the world works are buried, yet my new ones aren't yet operational."
Cheers to staying with that profound dislocation just a little bit longer.
Ohhh those words from Mary Karr feel like a tuning fork; just yes. Thank you for sharing, for naming the dislocation and effort. 💛
This is absolutely beautiful, Lisa. Your connection with the redwood as a mother figure was so comforting to read – a needed reminder that such deep solace can always be found in nature. Also, I love that you stumbled upon your old Blogspot and connected with your writings from nearly two decades ago! I recently logged into my old blog from around the same era and it was such a joy to witness just how much I've remained rooted to my core interests (and have evolved a lot) at the same time.
Thank you so, Lindsay -- there is something so meaningful about remembering the parts of us that remain true, that have always been pulled by similar interests -- while also noticing what's changed. It felt like such comfort to see what hasn't changed in spite of how different I,and my life, are now. Grateful for the resonance <3
The idea of shedding old skin and embracing vulnerability, even when it feels uncomfortable, is something I've been grappling with lately. It's like there's a constant tension between the desire for protection and the yearning for authentic connection. Your words give me permission to sit with the discomfort and trust that something beautiful might emerge from it. Thank you for sharing your journey with such honesty.
That tension is so real. And such a tender thing to stay with. Thank you for sharing the kinship and connection in it all 🙏🏻
Wow. Just YES.
💛💛💛
Lisa, thank you for this. I have been going through such a similar experience. Of sitting inside the discomfort of awakening into myself, of deepening. Of touching into my wounds and feeling the pain without recoiling. Of facing the internalized shame and embarrassment and realizing that no matter how much I try to "let go" and "release", the layers go so deep that every cycle brings me back into those emotions. This week has been so heightened, has me feeling so raw and sensitive, and it's precisely because I am truly holding onto my needs and acknowledging that I feel shame around those needs. Thank you for this reflection, it's always so helpful.
The depth of those layers, the tenderness of having to return again and again, only to find new grooves to tend to... I'm with you. It's such a process, such a big undertaking to stay with it all. And what a gift to find more holding of your needs, more acknowledgement of what's stirring inside. I'm so grateful to know my own experience is mirrored in some small way, that we're never really walking these deep internal landscapes alone. Thank you for saying so 💛
Each and every day I am thankful for the Libby app. Yesterday I was doing a digital cleaning of my files from this past year and saw I had saved an old post of yours as a pdf. Your words are so helpful. Thankful to you too.
The Libby app is truly the best 😭 so grateful. Thank you for sharing that -- it means a lot to me 💛
I've been struggling to articulate how I've been feeling this new year and your words landed right at the center of my soul, thank you.
So glad they reached you 🙏🏻
Love your work and your words Lisa, I fee so aligned to these ideas right now. Bliss! 🎈
Grateful for that -- thank you for reading 🧡
I am so glad you have found a mothering tree, what a wonderful place to let go in, to release. Thank you as always for sharing your heart
Thank you for reading, for being here 🧡
thank you for articulating how I've been feeling. I've been struggling to find the words and you have spoken them! Here's to slowing down, pausing in the mud.
To pausing in the mud 💛