You project a freedom that inspires me. Even with how "It returns you to a state of childhood, where you don’t know how to evaluate things." Because—yes, I evaluate, probably too much, but what feels okay to many seems illogical to me. I resist too much in pointing out discrepancies in the beliefs of others, but there is a gift in using it on myself instead! But, oh, going for that freedom more and more. Thanks for the nudge, whether intentional or not.
And this, the feeling seen from these words by you—words that feel like the description of a fraction of the world and I'll now be out trying to find them. Words well worth the price of any admission...
"I’m interested in how people get to be who they are and how they make choices about how to live. I’m fascinated. This quality comes across to people as a sort of kindness in me, I think. I also scare them with what they feel as too intense. I’m trying to resist the impulse to woo people whose aloofness makes me feel unwanted and unworthy, but I am not succeeding. It’s really so tempting to be ridiculous. I can’t mask it."
Shaking my head at all those times I tried to stop myself, or warned myself not to start, or thought later I had learned my lesson. And now—tada!—an in all unexpected permissions I feel given and surprises about myself, I'm beyond loving this, and hope to keep it in mind when I'm feeling that Kermit shade of green. "It's not easy being green..."
Such a lift to read Laurie. Light through a crack- was in a descent along with the moment - this piece on your presence in travel and curiosity with people in the immediate really touched me- that's all there is. Got me to dance- which I love to do. To feel the floor which I love to do. And to shake it loose- and ease up. It's 6:36 and still golden outside- will walk.....which I love to do. XXA
Also, what Deb Lund said, that you project a freedom that is inspiring. That’s so true but I didn’t have the word for it. It’s a freedom and confidence that comes, I think, from being yourself and accepting yourself and that allows you to be so open to others.
I haven’t commented here in a while because things were going on in my life that were distracting and also I avoided Substack for a while because I didn’t want to hear or see anything about Trump. I just couldn’t take it. But I missed the things I love on here too much, especially your writing. I loved the description of your trip, particularly meeting Gesche. Isn’t it wonderful when you meet someone like that and just click right away? It doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, it’s magical. I found out recently that we know someone in common, Marsha Recknagel. Marsha is one of my 2 or 3 closest friends in the world. She said she met you through Richard and David, whom I also knew, of course, but not as well as Marsha did. I met Richard years ago through Cynthia Macdonald in Houston even before he came there to teach. Richard didn’t like me at first, I think because my poems were so not good and I didn’t know it. But I did realize they weren’t good and worked hard and they became much better and he was very supportive then and published a few of them. Small world. I told Marsha that you are the best writer I’ve found on Substack. I identified with your mention of your curiosity and sometimes seeming too intense because I can seem like that, too, I think, but other times I bury my head in a book so that I am surrounded by a metaphorical fence to keep people at bay.When I found you on here, I kept feeling like I had met you somewhere, but I think I’d just heard your name. Perhaps it was wishful thinking. Anyway, I’m glad to know our lives have crossed paths. I have to go back and catch up on all your writing I’ve missed.
What a fantastic note, and please keep reading. I do not donate my attention to the kinds of subjects you too want to avoid. Marsha mentioned being in touch again. I hope she will.I'm glad Richard published you. xxL
OH! I wanted to share the three things I love at the moment...
1. I went to a workshop that happened to have (by some quirky chance) a few editors I had worked with in the past. So fun to still feel connected after being away!
2. Taking concrete steps to lessen the fatigue that comes with my chronic blood cancer (and also calling it what it is), and knowing everyone has their stuff, and mine is just a nuisance compared to many. And only saying yes to what gives me more energy than it takes.
3. FINALLY (Ha! Didn't mean those caps, but they obviously wanted to be there) learning how to launch adult children, and taking those steps!
I love the breeze that was blowing through my open window as I read this. And the eager yellow flowers on the bush outside. And I love how your writing has a welcoming warmth, filled with clear simple truth. Such a joy! :)
All Russian ice cream tastes great. I spent a summer in Pskov, six hours northwest of St. Petersburg by bus, in 1997. The white nights are magical. I don't know if it's the dream state of being in another country where it never gets dark, or the amount of butterfat that they put in the ice cream, but Russian ice cream is a special thing. Morozhenoe. Yum. Thanks for the reminder.
“…I'm talking to a lover in bed, a lover who isn't for the moment judging me, so there’s a feeling of freedom that is probably mistaken but is nonetheless in the air.”
That made me smile… and feel how nice it is to be on the other side of such discoveries.
Oh, and my favorite Stardust Memories moment is when the trains are side by side at the station. Woody looks out of his Soviet-style train at Sharon Stone (who no one knew at the time) living it up on the other train. I also fell in love with Charlotte Rampling in this film. I've loved seeing her reappear recently.
Wondering if you and Geshe have ever been in touch again? There is this thing about friendship that it stays in one place and time in our history. It can feel forced to try and make it continue. But there is an urge for more. Just wondering!
We wrote letters for a while . . . I wonder if we emailed. I will check. I know her last name. She was in love with a Canadian biologist and was planning to move there to be with him. I think we would still have much to say to each other. If you and I had met on a train, I suspect the same thing would have happened with us. xxL
Wonderful -- I want to meet Gesche. Your description of Babes reminded me of the Agnès Varda film L'Une Chante, L'Autre Pas, a joyous exploration of female friendship -- I've always loved how it shows the friends weaving in and out of each other's lives and how the gaps don't matter to the depth of love.
Three things I love in this moment -- reading Olga Tokarczuk, the sound of the river outside my window, reading your Substack.
What a great comment. The perfect comment of comments. I wrote about the Varda film in Oldster. Do you know my column there, "Notes on Another New Life"? My next one goes up Thursday. I'm so happy our paths have crossed here. xxL
ha, i’ve only seen random snippets of stardust memories but i still love that last scene you describe. wise alien. i’ve also seen that viral cheese & onion video so now i too must attempt it!
You project a freedom that inspires me. Even with how "It returns you to a state of childhood, where you don’t know how to evaluate things." Because—yes, I evaluate, probably too much, but what feels okay to many seems illogical to me. I resist too much in pointing out discrepancies in the beliefs of others, but there is a gift in using it on myself instead! But, oh, going for that freedom more and more. Thanks for the nudge, whether intentional or not.
And this, the feeling seen from these words by you—words that feel like the description of a fraction of the world and I'll now be out trying to find them. Words well worth the price of any admission...
"I’m interested in how people get to be who they are and how they make choices about how to live. I’m fascinated. This quality comes across to people as a sort of kindness in me, I think. I also scare them with what they feel as too intense. I’m trying to resist the impulse to woo people whose aloofness makes me feel unwanted and unworthy, but I am not succeeding. It’s really so tempting to be ridiculous. I can’t mask it."
Shaking my head at all those times I tried to stop myself, or warned myself not to start, or thought later I had learned my lesson. And now—tada!—an in all unexpected permissions I feel given and surprises about myself, I'm beyond loving this, and hope to keep it in mind when I'm feeling that Kermit shade of green. "It's not easy being green..."
Wonderful come t!
Such a lift to read Laurie. Light through a crack- was in a descent along with the moment - this piece on your presence in travel and curiosity with people in the immediate really touched me- that's all there is. Got me to dance- which I love to do. To feel the floor which I love to do. And to shake it loose- and ease up. It's 6:36 and still golden outside- will walk.....which I love to do. XXA
Oh, wonderful, so glad this pulled you somewhere that felt good. xxL
Also, what Deb Lund said, that you project a freedom that is inspiring. That’s so true but I didn’t have the word for it. It’s a freedom and confidence that comes, I think, from being yourself and accepting yourself and that allows you to be so open to others.
Thank you . . . what you see on the page is not the same as the person who moves through the world. I'm glad she gives you more range of motion. xxL
I haven’t commented here in a while because things were going on in my life that were distracting and also I avoided Substack for a while because I didn’t want to hear or see anything about Trump. I just couldn’t take it. But I missed the things I love on here too much, especially your writing. I loved the description of your trip, particularly meeting Gesche. Isn’t it wonderful when you meet someone like that and just click right away? It doesn’t happen too often, but when it does, it’s magical. I found out recently that we know someone in common, Marsha Recknagel. Marsha is one of my 2 or 3 closest friends in the world. She said she met you through Richard and David, whom I also knew, of course, but not as well as Marsha did. I met Richard years ago through Cynthia Macdonald in Houston even before he came there to teach. Richard didn’t like me at first, I think because my poems were so not good and I didn’t know it. But I did realize they weren’t good and worked hard and they became much better and he was very supportive then and published a few of them. Small world. I told Marsha that you are the best writer I’ve found on Substack. I identified with your mention of your curiosity and sometimes seeming too intense because I can seem like that, too, I think, but other times I bury my head in a book so that I am surrounded by a metaphorical fence to keep people at bay.When I found you on here, I kept feeling like I had met you somewhere, but I think I’d just heard your name. Perhaps it was wishful thinking. Anyway, I’m glad to know our lives have crossed paths. I have to go back and catch up on all your writing I’ve missed.
What a fantastic note, and please keep reading. I do not donate my attention to the kinds of subjects you too want to avoid. Marsha mentioned being in touch again. I hope she will.I'm glad Richard published you. xxL
OH! I wanted to share the three things I love at the moment...
1. I went to a workshop that happened to have (by some quirky chance) a few editors I had worked with in the past. So fun to still feel connected after being away!
2. Taking concrete steps to lessen the fatigue that comes with my chronic blood cancer (and also calling it what it is), and knowing everyone has their stuff, and mine is just a nuisance compared to many. And only saying yes to what gives me more energy than it takes.
3. FINALLY (Ha! Didn't mean those caps, but they obviously wanted to be there) learning how to launch adult children, and taking those steps!
This is all great!! Thanks for the comment.
I love your take on things
I love the breeze that was blowing through my open window as I read this. And the eager yellow flowers on the bush outside. And I love how your writing has a welcoming warmth, filled with clear simple truth. Such a joy! :)
Thanks, love. xxL
All Russian ice cream tastes great. I spent a summer in Pskov, six hours northwest of St. Petersburg by bus, in 1997. The white nights are magical. I don't know if it's the dream state of being in another country where it never gets dark, or the amount of butterfat that they put in the ice cream, but Russian ice cream is a special thing. Morozhenoe. Yum. Thanks for the reminder.
“…I'm talking to a lover in bed, a lover who isn't for the moment judging me, so there’s a feeling of freedom that is probably mistaken but is nonetheless in the air.”
That made me smile… and feel how nice it is to be on the other side of such discoveries.
Oy, so nice.
Oh, and my favorite Stardust Memories moment is when the trains are side by side at the station. Woody looks out of his Soviet-style train at Sharon Stone (who no one knew at the time) living it up on the other train. I also fell in love with Charlotte Rampling in this film. I've loved seeing her reappear recently.
She was a special kind of beauty and remains beautiful in her enigmatic manner.
Wondering if you and Geshe have ever been in touch again? There is this thing about friendship that it stays in one place and time in our history. It can feel forced to try and make it continue. But there is an urge for more. Just wondering!
We wrote letters for a while . . . I wonder if we emailed. I will check. I know her last name. She was in love with a Canadian biologist and was planning to move there to be with him. I think we would still have much to say to each other. If you and I had met on a train, I suspect the same thing would have happened with us. xxL
omg it would have been the best train ride ever!!
Wonderful -- I want to meet Gesche. Your description of Babes reminded me of the Agnès Varda film L'Une Chante, L'Autre Pas, a joyous exploration of female friendship -- I've always loved how it shows the friends weaving in and out of each other's lives and how the gaps don't matter to the depth of love.
Three things I love in this moment -- reading Olga Tokarczuk, the sound of the river outside my window, reading your Substack.
What a great comment. The perfect comment of comments. I wrote about the Varda film in Oldster. Do you know my column there, "Notes on Another New Life"? My next one goes up Thursday. I'm so happy our paths have crossed here. xxL
Better Things. I have watched that series several times over.
ha, i’ve only seen random snippets of stardust memories but i still love that last scene you describe. wise alien. i’ve also seen that viral cheese & onion video so now i too must attempt it!