PS. I usually send my letters out on Sundays but I will be solo parenting next week and need this weekend to be with my family/myself, so a Friday letter this week it is xx
So much of this resonated with where I am right now, exactly this week. Especially, "You trusting yourself to meet what’s coming means so much more than you being able to predict, control, or hold certainty over what’s coming. You can trust yourself. You can trust yourself."
I've been playing with this sentiment this week. As my true self shows up more and more, I hear parts asking how they know she can be trusted. And at first I kept hearing "To trust is hard" and then it was replaced by, "No. To trust is new".
This whole essay is amazing, thank you Lisa. I love the reminder that the core part of us remains and not everything is ready to grow at the same time. I have been writing about our deep sense of unworthiness that may manifest itself in sneaky ways like the need to control things, or micromanage, as well as the sense of discontent (to name only a few!), so all of these points resonated deeply. The images are wonderful too.
Thank you so much for sharing these words today. I so needed to hear them right now. Trust myself even when I feel like I don’t know what the hell I am doing and am terrified of the next step…and make peace with nobody else understanding the choices I’m making…I’m in the heart of the experience of vulnerability right now, and feeling very alone in that place. Will keep working on the trust. Thank you for penning and sharing today. 🙏
A friend just sent me this article - what a sweet find. I really enjoyed your reminders. Especially that not all parts "thaw" at the same rate - as well as - other people might not understand what we're becoming. Ooof, a big yes on this right now! I've felt big shifts and big changes this month already (more so than previous years). I felt heard and understood reading your words. What a lovely space you've created - thank you. xx
“I feel myself thawing after what has been a long, underground, soul-altering winter”…. meeeee too Lisa, me too. I am actually writing a piece for spring that has to do with the safety I’ve found in winter so your prayers/offerings/reminders are meeting me in a special way. May your emergence be everything you need it to be.
Thank you for these thoughts on emergence. I saved so much of it to my "Lisa Olivera Quotes" file.
My wife's health, especially her mobility, has been declining for several years. Early in January, we finally received a clear diagnosis of a neurodegenerative disease that is terminal and with no available treatments or medications.
So,even as I enter into an unknown amount of caregiving and journeying with her, I also have a strong sense of a future, an emergence of my own. Your wise, insightful words provided guidance and hope.
After reading this, curled up with a coffee as the morning light crept in, I went out for a walk. Here where I am, winter is so visibly and starkly different from spring. Bare branches. Brown grass where it peaks through from under snow and ice. Low sun. Short days. In the past few weeks though, I've begun to notice the subtle shifts, though. Not yet spring, but Kurt Vonnegut's "unlocking". This morning, as I walked, your words echoed in nature's changes, "Not all parts of you will be ready to emerge at once. Some parts of you need to stay tucked away for awhile, cozy and waiting until it’s their time." How the bark of these trees has turned to the vivid neon of a new season while their neighbour is still wintering; this patch of grass beginning to show hints of green while over there is still under the snow; this spot that last week was snow-covered, then ice, then slush, then a puddle, now dry. Like the whole world reminding me that not everything needs to change at once to be ready. Letting myself emerge bit by bit, part by part, branch by branch. Slowly. Right on time.
🤍 I waited until I had a quiet Saturday morning to read this letter. A space to sip my tea and to contemplate, digest and delight in your words, your imagery. The description of coming out of winter’s cocoon and your process brought to mind the Buddhist philosophy of impermanence, of non attachment, of ever changing. I have been marinating in this concept during my season and your letter gives me more to ponder
This is so beautiful ❤️ on this side of the world we are heading for winter, but the process you've detailed that you've gone through - curling up, protecting our vulnerability, extending our comforts, is one I'm looking forward too, as much as I'll miss the ease of summer.
Lisa, What beautifully poetic and encouraging words for the spiraling journey of life. Such an apt reminder that emergence comes and goes, not just in the spring. Your words remind me of turtles. We can slowly emerge and always tuck back into our shells when needed. Whenever I feel fear, I especially want to remember that “uncertainty = the place where possibility lives”.
Just, wow. I am aways so astonished by how your words somehow manage to capture and distill my own inner turbulence - I suppose it is what they say about "the most personal is also the most universal". Thank you for being brave enough to share parts of yourself here. It helps so much <3
this is so crazy that I stumbled upon your page, because I just wrote about this concept of renewal and emergence as well (https://substack.com/home/post/p-142737651?source=queue). Your writing is a gift that reminds us that it is fully okay to not emerge completely. I think we all struggle with change to some extent, and as we shift and grow, I think it's so important to do that internal survey of our own patterns, the ways in which we move through the world. The beauty, then, comes from picking and choosing what patterns serve us and which no longer do, and THAT is all about selectively emerging ! :, ) <3
PS. I usually send my letters out on Sundays but I will be solo parenting next week and need this weekend to be with my family/myself, so a Friday letter this week it is xx
So much of this resonated with where I am right now, exactly this week. Especially, "You trusting yourself to meet what’s coming means so much more than you being able to predict, control, or hold certainty over what’s coming. You can trust yourself. You can trust yourself."
I've been playing with this sentiment this week. As my true self shows up more and more, I hear parts asking how they know she can be trusted. And at first I kept hearing "To trust is hard" and then it was replaced by, "No. To trust is new".
Thank you for sharing your journey and insights.
This whole essay is amazing, thank you Lisa. I love the reminder that the core part of us remains and not everything is ready to grow at the same time. I have been writing about our deep sense of unworthiness that may manifest itself in sneaky ways like the need to control things, or micromanage, as well as the sense of discontent (to name only a few!), so all of these points resonated deeply. The images are wonderful too.
Thank you so much for sharing these words today. I so needed to hear them right now. Trust myself even when I feel like I don’t know what the hell I am doing and am terrified of the next step…and make peace with nobody else understanding the choices I’m making…I’m in the heart of the experience of vulnerability right now, and feeling very alone in that place. Will keep working on the trust. Thank you for penning and sharing today. 🙏
I love this so much! I reread the part about being allowed to make mistakes several times. Thank you for sharing this!
A friend just sent me this article - what a sweet find. I really enjoyed your reminders. Especially that not all parts "thaw" at the same rate - as well as - other people might not understand what we're becoming. Ooof, a big yes on this right now! I've felt big shifts and big changes this month already (more so than previous years). I felt heard and understood reading your words. What a lovely space you've created - thank you. xx
“I feel myself thawing after what has been a long, underground, soul-altering winter”…. meeeee too Lisa, me too. I am actually writing a piece for spring that has to do with the safety I’ve found in winter so your prayers/offerings/reminders are meeting me in a special way. May your emergence be everything you need it to be.
Thank you for these thoughts on emergence. I saved so much of it to my "Lisa Olivera Quotes" file.
My wife's health, especially her mobility, has been declining for several years. Early in January, we finally received a clear diagnosis of a neurodegenerative disease that is terminal and with no available treatments or medications.
So,even as I enter into an unknown amount of caregiving and journeying with her, I also have a strong sense of a future, an emergence of my own. Your wise, insightful words provided guidance and hope.
Blessings on your unfurling!
After reading this, curled up with a coffee as the morning light crept in, I went out for a walk. Here where I am, winter is so visibly and starkly different from spring. Bare branches. Brown grass where it peaks through from under snow and ice. Low sun. Short days. In the past few weeks though, I've begun to notice the subtle shifts, though. Not yet spring, but Kurt Vonnegut's "unlocking". This morning, as I walked, your words echoed in nature's changes, "Not all parts of you will be ready to emerge at once. Some parts of you need to stay tucked away for awhile, cozy and waiting until it’s their time." How the bark of these trees has turned to the vivid neon of a new season while their neighbour is still wintering; this patch of grass beginning to show hints of green while over there is still under the snow; this spot that last week was snow-covered, then ice, then slush, then a puddle, now dry. Like the whole world reminding me that not everything needs to change at once to be ready. Letting myself emerge bit by bit, part by part, branch by branch. Slowly. Right on time.
🤍 I waited until I had a quiet Saturday morning to read this letter. A space to sip my tea and to contemplate, digest and delight in your words, your imagery. The description of coming out of winter’s cocoon and your process brought to mind the Buddhist philosophy of impermanence, of non attachment, of ever changing. I have been marinating in this concept during my season and your letter gives me more to ponder
with gratitude,
Christine
This is so beautiful ❤️ on this side of the world we are heading for winter, but the process you've detailed that you've gone through - curling up, protecting our vulnerability, extending our comforts, is one I'm looking forward too, as much as I'll miss the ease of summer.
Lisa, What beautifully poetic and encouraging words for the spiraling journey of life. Such an apt reminder that emergence comes and goes, not just in the spring. Your words remind me of turtles. We can slowly emerge and always tuck back into our shells when needed. Whenever I feel fear, I especially want to remember that “uncertainty = the place where possibility lives”.
Just, wow. I am aways so astonished by how your words somehow manage to capture and distill my own inner turbulence - I suppose it is what they say about "the most personal is also the most universal". Thank you for being brave enough to share parts of yourself here. It helps so much <3
Really needed to hear this, and resonate deeply. Thank you 💜
this is so crazy that I stumbled upon your page, because I just wrote about this concept of renewal and emergence as well (https://substack.com/home/post/p-142737651?source=queue). Your writing is a gift that reminds us that it is fully okay to not emerge completely. I think we all struggle with change to some extent, and as we shift and grow, I think it's so important to do that internal survey of our own patterns, the ways in which we move through the world. The beauty, then, comes from picking and choosing what patterns serve us and which no longer do, and THAT is all about selectively emerging ! :, ) <3
This writing is so beautiful and timely. Thank you for the gift.