I took a poetry writing class in in eighth grade. I really enjoyed the class. I wrote a few poems when I was in an arts’ camp and on and off throughout high school. After that I forgot that I liked to write. During the pandemic, I was working in the hospital while most people were at home. I realized I needed a way to express my emotions and I came back to writing. About a year after it began I learned about the Isolation Journals. I started to respond to the prompts. For the first year I never shared my writing with the community. It felt too personal and I didn't feel I was good enough. Now I share almost every week and people are very encouraging and kind. At the same time as I started to respond to IJ prompts, I discovered Narrative Medicine and began to participate in their rounds whenever I could. In those meetings you have only four minutes to write.It is a much smaller group than the Isolation Journals’ community and I started to share my work there. I received positive feedback which made me more open to showing others my work. On my own which I found that there were patients and situations that really touched me and I felt that I had to honor their stories. I wrote about them and also about my self.
I showed some people a poem I wrote about a patient who froze to death and they encouraged me to try to get it published. I sent it out to one journal who rejected it, but a second one liked it and it will be published this month in an academic journal. The success of the first poem has emboldened me to try with another.
Recently I started to participate in monthly poetry workshops with a different poet every month. Even though I work a full time job with very long hours (about to go to work in a few minutes) I realize that if something gives you joy you can find time to do it and it even makes it easier to get through the work day. In last month’s poetry workshop with Joseph Fasano he described the need to write as what he imagines an oyster experiences when it has an irritant in its shell and needs to form a protective coating which creates a pearl. An oyster cannot rest until the pearl is formed and neither can I when I have something to say.
Thank you so much! I had no idea that my words from yesterday would resonate with so many people especially since I wrote them in a hurry before I had to run off to work.You never know…
Wow! What a wonderful response and how encouraging for anyone who worries about their ability to write. Thanks for sharing and may you continue to create poetry and flourish!
Lisa, your words arrive like salt on the wind, carrying the weight of what must be spoken, what refuses to be swallowed. You gather the echoes of the world—grief, wonder, the pulse of the unsaid—& press them into something shining, something that stays. Thank you for sharing. 🖤
Dear Suleika, the most joyous news, to have your loves by your side. I only hope to be across the seas—to sit in the hush before the lights dim, to feel the charge in the air as words take shape, to witness the alchemy of it all.
I hesitated before writing it.
A name badge, a blank space, a sharp-tipped marker waiting in my hand. I could have used the name I had long hidden behind—the small one, the soft one, the one that asked nothing of the world. But instead, I wrote my own. The real one. The one I had avoided, misplaced, allowed to shrink.
Later, a woman I admired glanced at it & smiled. "A beautiful name," she said, tracing the letters with her eyes before looking at me. "It could be from anywhere. A name that carries distance. History. Like a face that belongs to many places at once."
A compliment that settled, in a way I’d not felt before.
For years, I did not place my name on the things I made. Not on my images. Not on my work. Not on the small, careful moments I offered the world. It was easier that way. To remain at a distance. To let the work exist without pointing back to me.
I had a name once, not the one given to me but the one I was shrunk into. A childhood nickname—something soft, something small, something that fit inside the narrow space I was allowed to take up. It followed me longer than it should have, long after I had outgrown it. I used it without thinking, signed emails with it, introduced myself that way, as if I were still trying to fit into the version of me they had made.
There is safety in the background. In quiet observation. In being the one who sees, rather than the one who is seen.
But something shifts when you name yourself.
To write is to place myself inside the frame. To step forward. To take the weight of my own voice & let it stand.
It is a small thing, & yet—
It is not.
Because a name carries history. Mine carries the weight of doors shut behind me, of hands that let go, of a family that has not spoken my name in years. But still—it is mine.
And I am here.
With thanks also to Ann for her words, which met me at exactly the right moment.
A name is everything as I gave myself a nick name that is known to a handful of people. The name will be tied playfully to a place and time when we are all dust.
Suleika, Reading all of this brought me to tears. Just beautiful. Finally, there is a word to describe what gets us through. My "growl". This is the dreaded month that will mark when my beloved son, Connor, died 15 years ago. I often find myself wondering how I got through it all. Now I know- my growl.
I am looking for it as I deal with my chronic health issues and the coming of spring and a big birthday.
I wish you so much success and love as you figure how to find your growl as you plan and live your book tour.
Jane…may you continue to growl again and again and again. Your post is a reminder of what’s needed to get us through the worst of life, to allow us to experience the best. Happy Growling !
Jane I understand the "growl" as I too lost my son at 33 to a rare illness. It will be 5 years this fall. Keep growling as we navigate through this life.
I am made of pop and sparkle. I am ferociously loyal to the care and the undeniable wisdom of young children. I am optimism mixed with realism, earned of treatment unbefitting anyone or anything. I am music, dancing, whimsy, tears, grief that wears me thin and strengthens my resolve to keep going. I am my mother's daughter. I am my daughter's mother. I am a writer, dreamer, doer, reader, painter, and a deeply empathetic soul. I am and I wasn't for a long time. But now that I have let myself out, I shall never hide again.
Mary, made of light & marrow, of softness that refuses to break. Once silenced, now singing—you have returned to yourself, & the world will never be without you again. 🙏🏻
Wow! Kim, this is just beyond lovely and I am brought to my knees in thankfulness. So, my deepest and dearest thank you for this poem, this outpouring of kindness and beauty.
Every Sunday you open your door, invite us inside, and encourage us to dream or remember or write the honest with you. You will be surrounded by such love on this tour of song and story. Dream big, dream biggest. We're here. We will be there.
I so appreciate the piece by Ann Napalitano. It brought up memories of when , as a 16 year old, I found myself in a high school devoted to Math and Science. I had been the cinderella of my family; the target of every mean thought and uncontrolled rage of both my parents. I hid inside thee books I read, behind my hair, inside the few baggy pieces of clothing I possessed. Up until then my schoolwork was an afterthought; a barely legible scribble on a page. ‘No one cares’ was my mantra. But then, in this special school in the Bronx, they wanted something from me and, more importantly, they thought I had it in me. My life changed over those three years, in ways I could never have imagined.
Hello All. Sueika this is so so exciting!! I loved everything you wrote about today( I love everything you write). "Jon inspires me to give myself permission, to try new things and to do so in a big way—not by paying some unimaginable cost, not by risking complete physical depletion or financial ruin, but by being creatively daring" I am inspired by this. I am married to and in love with a dreamer who inspires me. I am looking forward to your news Tuesday!!
I am worn and weary and have never thought about this. I am 76, I am caring for my sweet husband who has dementia.
I have worn many hats throughout my life from dental assistant to mortgage banker. My best me is a yoga teacher. Yoga brought me to myself and teaching others was joyous. I no longer teach yoga, but still practice. I urge you to keep breathing deeply and keep walking with joy.
Thanks, Suleika - I'm wishing you, Jon and all your Book Tour guests much magic, joy, creative love, and lots of FUN😉
For me, ambition and dreaming big look different now compared to the days of climbing the leadership ladder and building diverse high-performing teams (which I loved). Seeing lightbulbs ignite when someone 'gets it' or when a team's heated debate shifts into eureka solutions together was SO cool. Now, I have a dream for my publication and what I'd like it to achieve to serve/support others. The vision is clear; translating it into reality is an evolving ambition.
It's evolving because It's more complex/convoluted than the earlier career years - it's not a straight single ladder or path. Translating this vision into reality requires weaving all the threads together with caregiving— my red thread through everything. So, perhaps my big dream is the larger vision of how we (Mum and I) can both thrive and make the most of our everyday small moments to FEEL those tiny joys WHILE I try to realise the ambition to serve/support others. Nothing is absolute, detailed or predictable, so I'll just keep leaning into my nerdy researcher curiosity, connecting and journalling to keep evolving and trying to make my vision a reality.
Victoria, your words hold the beauty of an ambition that bends & weaves rather than climbs—a dream stitched with care, curiosity, & the quiet brilliance of everyday joy. May your red thread continue to guide you, strong & steady, as you bring your vision to life. 🖤
Aww Kim. Thank you for your beautiful words — perfectly articulating what I was trying to say! Exactly this - bend and weaving rather than climbing....and building a bigger, fuller, richer tapestry. Thank you for gifting me the words to translate more of my vision.
Hi Karen -- just arrived in Auckland yesterday for five months in New Zealand. The first thing that struck me was how seriously New Zealanders take their environment. My husband and I had to declare our hiking boots at customs and a biosecurity inspector summarily cleaned them. We took the train into the city, and I was floored by how the train interior sparkled and there was no garbage on the side of the tracks. The rest of the world can certainly learn from your example. Wow!
Karen, I just returned from three weeks in your beautiful country. We explored many treasures on the South Island. I will spend the rest of my life unpacking and savoring amazing moments with people I met.
Yes- see Julie’s post ;) she’s got a beautiful list there. Also go over Arthur’s Pass to Hokitika and head up the West Coast for some stunning mountains and forests. Glenorchy and if you can make it to Rakiura too x
Yes, treasures in our own backyard! And yet I’ve never seen the crystal clear water running through streams, rivers, and lakes in the most incredible array of blues as I did everywhere on the South Island. Looking out the car window and realizing I was looking at Mt. Cook in the distance. The drive from Te Anua to Milford Sound. Stopped waiting to enter the tunnel and seeing a Kea, Alpine Parrot on the roof of the car ahead of us! And then witnessing the beauty while taking the ferry on Milford Sound. Hearing then seeing two kiwi at midnight as we silently held our breath. The tiny Stewart Island Robin vexing at my boots as we explored Ulva Island. And seeing the Southern Cross for the first time at St. John Dark Sky Project! Oh my, what treasured memories 🇳🇿 ♥️
Karen & Julie, I also returned two weeks ago after 3 months traveling both North & South Islands.
I am an artist, writer and activist and found so much beauty of inspiration from the amazing nature to museums and Maori wisdom. I hope to return next year for a longer time to do an artist residency.
Julia we had a similar experience traveling on roads and across trails and water. YES seeing the southern cross and Milky Way!! The stars at night and volcanic mountains and deep pools of water from ocean to stream to thermal depths rising to the surface brought a special connection to worlds beyond words.
This post today reminds me that I need to take the leap to find “the growl”
I've spent the majority of my 73 years with an inner mouse, I've come to realize, not an inner growl. I'm not good enough has echoed in my ear and sat on my critical shoulder for more years than I care to admit. That's why, as a teacher, the most important thing I could ever impart to my students is positive reinforcement and encouragement. Without it you can do very little, internally or externally. But I suppose it's never too late to live by my own words and go from an inner squeak to a modicum of roar.
Same and I am facilitating positive reinforcement with the students I serve as well. It is indeed helpful to reflect internally and be that person we are trying so hard to help others achieve💜
It was an interesting read. I liked your "internal growl" and your soccer experiences. Curiously when I look back through the decades of my life, anger has been a driving force for me to achieve excellence. I'm a bit embarrassed about this as I'm not an angry sort of person. It's been a reaction to rejection or dismissal of one sort or another e.g. "Who says I can't?" "Why should I do this when it conflicts with my values?" "Don't you dare underestimate me." "No I will not walk away with my tail between my legs. I am better than that." The other response has been as an approach to challenging injustice and finding creative solutions to this. Again, though the underlying emotion is anger. It's been a bit of a revelation! Thank you!
When I was studying clarinet, I had a teacher who saw something in me, and questioned, how do we turn that bud into a bloom? His answer wasn’t gentle, and it wasn’t always nice, and his comments sometimes brought me to tears. But after he threatened to not let me graduate, I discovered a ferocious spirit deep inside that not only brought me over the finish line, but resulted in the most joyful, exhilarating performance of my life. I don’t play clarinet anymore, but I’ve never forgotten that feeling.
I love the love you and Jon have for one another and am quite intrigued to learn more about the book tour. Thank you yet again for inspiration on being one’s best self. Have a peaceful Sunday 🤍
I took a poetry writing class in in eighth grade. I really enjoyed the class. I wrote a few poems when I was in an arts’ camp and on and off throughout high school. After that I forgot that I liked to write. During the pandemic, I was working in the hospital while most people were at home. I realized I needed a way to express my emotions and I came back to writing. About a year after it began I learned about the Isolation Journals. I started to respond to the prompts. For the first year I never shared my writing with the community. It felt too personal and I didn't feel I was good enough. Now I share almost every week and people are very encouraging and kind. At the same time as I started to respond to IJ prompts, I discovered Narrative Medicine and began to participate in their rounds whenever I could. In those meetings you have only four minutes to write.It is a much smaller group than the Isolation Journals’ community and I started to share my work there. I received positive feedback which made me more open to showing others my work. On my own which I found that there were patients and situations that really touched me and I felt that I had to honor their stories. I wrote about them and also about my self.
I showed some people a poem I wrote about a patient who froze to death and they encouraged me to try to get it published. I sent it out to one journal who rejected it, but a second one liked it and it will be published this month in an academic journal. The success of the first poem has emboldened me to try with another.
Recently I started to participate in monthly poetry workshops with a different poet every month. Even though I work a full time job with very long hours (about to go to work in a few minutes) I realize that if something gives you joy you can find time to do it and it even makes it easier to get through the work day. In last month’s poetry workshop with Joseph Fasano he described the need to write as what he imagines an oyster experiences when it has an irritant in its shell and needs to form a protective coating which creates a pearl. An oyster cannot rest until the pearl is formed and neither can I when I have something to say.
I love this so much—especially the way that other people’s encouragement emboldened you. The power of community! ❤️
Thank you so much! I had no idea that my words from yesterday would resonate with so many people especially since I wrote them in a hurry before I had to run off to work.You never know…
Yes, to me writing is like that oyster…a perfect analogy, a hankering in the psyche somewhere
Thanks for sharing… the oyster is a great metaphor and look forward to seeing your poem!
A big congrats on your upcoming publication
Thanks!
Wow! What a wonderful response and how encouraging for anyone who worries about their ability to write. Thanks for sharing and may you continue to create poetry and flourish!
Thank you for sharing your evolution from young poet and then the forgotten poet to the reclaimed poet.
Lisa, your words arrive like salt on the wind, carrying the weight of what must be spoken, what refuses to be swallowed. You gather the echoes of the world—grief, wonder, the pulse of the unsaid—& press them into something shining, something that stays. Thank you for sharing. 🖤
That is beautiful-I loved hearing about your journey. And congrats on publishing your first poem!
Dear Suleika, the most joyous news, to have your loves by your side. I only hope to be across the seas—to sit in the hush before the lights dim, to feel the charge in the air as words take shape, to witness the alchemy of it all.
I hesitated before writing it.
A name badge, a blank space, a sharp-tipped marker waiting in my hand. I could have used the name I had long hidden behind—the small one, the soft one, the one that asked nothing of the world. But instead, I wrote my own. The real one. The one I had avoided, misplaced, allowed to shrink.
Later, a woman I admired glanced at it & smiled. "A beautiful name," she said, tracing the letters with her eyes before looking at me. "It could be from anywhere. A name that carries distance. History. Like a face that belongs to many places at once."
A compliment that settled, in a way I’d not felt before.
For years, I did not place my name on the things I made. Not on my images. Not on my work. Not on the small, careful moments I offered the world. It was easier that way. To remain at a distance. To let the work exist without pointing back to me.
I had a name once, not the one given to me but the one I was shrunk into. A childhood nickname—something soft, something small, something that fit inside the narrow space I was allowed to take up. It followed me longer than it should have, long after I had outgrown it. I used it without thinking, signed emails with it, introduced myself that way, as if I were still trying to fit into the version of me they had made.
There is safety in the background. In quiet observation. In being the one who sees, rather than the one who is seen.
But something shifts when you name yourself.
To write is to place myself inside the frame. To step forward. To take the weight of my own voice & let it stand.
It is a small thing, & yet—
It is not.
Because a name carries history. Mine carries the weight of doors shut behind me, of hands that let go, of a family that has not spoken my name in years. But still—it is mine.
And I am here.
With thanks also to Ann for her words, which met me at exactly the right moment.
“But something shifts when you name yourself”—❤️❤️❤️
Yes. A name no longer waiting in the margins. ❤️
A name is everything as I gave myself a nick name that is known to a handful of people. The name will be tied playfully to a place and time when we are all dust.
Thank you, Brenda. A name carried, a name let go. Both true, both enough
compelling story
thank you
Thank you, Robin. I’m grateful it met you.
Suleika, Reading all of this brought me to tears. Just beautiful. Finally, there is a word to describe what gets us through. My "growl". This is the dreaded month that will mark when my beloved son, Connor, died 15 years ago. I often find myself wondering how I got through it all. Now I know- my growl.
I am looking for it as I deal with my chronic health issues and the coming of spring and a big birthday.
I wish you so much success and love as you figure how to find your growl as you plan and live your book tour.
Jane…may you continue to growl again and again and again. Your post is a reminder of what’s needed to get us through the worst of life, to allow us to experience the best. Happy Growling !
Love this. Thank you...
May we all find that internal growl! ❤️❤️
Jane I understand the "growl" as I too lost my son at 33 to a rare illness. It will be 5 years this fall. Keep growling as we navigate through this life.
I am so sorry for your unthinkable loss.xoxox
Jane, your growl is a testament to love that endures. May it carry you through this season, steady & fierce as ever.
I am made of pop and sparkle. I am ferociously loyal to the care and the undeniable wisdom of young children. I am optimism mixed with realism, earned of treatment unbefitting anyone or anything. I am music, dancing, whimsy, tears, grief that wears me thin and strengthens my resolve to keep going. I am my mother's daughter. I am my daughter's mother. I am a writer, dreamer, doer, reader, painter, and a deeply empathetic soul. I am and I wasn't for a long time. But now that I have let myself out, I shall never hide again.
This just made me smile. "Pop and sparkle." Love it.
Thank you, Ilene!
Mary, made of light & marrow, of softness that refuses to break. Once silenced, now singing—you have returned to yourself, & the world will never be without you again. 🙏🏻
Wow! Kim, this is just beyond lovely and I am brought to my knees in thankfulness. So, my deepest and dearest thank you for this poem, this outpouring of kindness and beauty.
Every Sunday you open your door, invite us inside, and encourage us to dream or remember or write the honest with you. You will be surrounded by such love on this tour of song and story. Dream big, dream biggest. We're here. We will be there.
What you have created with this community sustains and encourages us all to thrive despite the challenges that life brings us.❤️
I so appreciate the piece by Ann Napalitano. It brought up memories of when , as a 16 year old, I found myself in a high school devoted to Math and Science. I had been the cinderella of my family; the target of every mean thought and uncontrolled rage of both my parents. I hid inside thee books I read, behind my hair, inside the few baggy pieces of clothing I possessed. Up until then my schoolwork was an afterthought; a barely legible scribble on a page. ‘No one cares’ was my mantra. But then, in this special school in the Bronx, they wanted something from me and, more importantly, they thought I had it in me. My life changed over those three years, in ways I could never have imagined.
I am glad you are no longer hiding behind your hair.
Amy - I care. Write your story. And people will care, and be inspired. Good luck, Cinderella.
Me too. I care.
Hello All. Sueika this is so so exciting!! I loved everything you wrote about today( I love everything you write). "Jon inspires me to give myself permission, to try new things and to do so in a big way—not by paying some unimaginable cost, not by risking complete physical depletion or financial ruin, but by being creatively daring" I am inspired by this. I am married to and in love with a dreamer who inspires me. I am looking forward to your news Tuesday!!
I am worn and weary and have never thought about this. I am 76, I am caring for my sweet husband who has dementia.
I have worn many hats throughout my life from dental assistant to mortgage banker. My best me is a yoga teacher. Yoga brought me to myself and teaching others was joyous. I no longer teach yoga, but still practice. I urge you to keep breathing deeply and keep walking with joy.
🙏🏻
Thanks, Suleika - I'm wishing you, Jon and all your Book Tour guests much magic, joy, creative love, and lots of FUN😉
For me, ambition and dreaming big look different now compared to the days of climbing the leadership ladder and building diverse high-performing teams (which I loved). Seeing lightbulbs ignite when someone 'gets it' or when a team's heated debate shifts into eureka solutions together was SO cool. Now, I have a dream for my publication and what I'd like it to achieve to serve/support others. The vision is clear; translating it into reality is an evolving ambition.
It's evolving because It's more complex/convoluted than the earlier career years - it's not a straight single ladder or path. Translating this vision into reality requires weaving all the threads together with caregiving— my red thread through everything. So, perhaps my big dream is the larger vision of how we (Mum and I) can both thrive and make the most of our everyday small moments to FEEL those tiny joys WHILE I try to realise the ambition to serve/support others. Nothing is absolute, detailed or predictable, so I'll just keep leaning into my nerdy researcher curiosity, connecting and journalling to keep evolving and trying to make my vision a reality.
Sending caregiver solidarity and strength, from a fellow red thread weaver.
Hi Rebecca!! xoxo Thanks! Sending some hugs and strength back to you!
Victoria, your words hold the beauty of an ambition that bends & weaves rather than climbs—a dream stitched with care, curiosity, & the quiet brilliance of everyday joy. May your red thread continue to guide you, strong & steady, as you bring your vision to life. 🖤
Aww Kim. Thank you for your beautiful words — perfectly articulating what I was trying to say! Exactly this - bend and weaving rather than climbing....and building a bigger, fuller, richer tapestry. Thank you for gifting me the words to translate more of my vision.
This is the most exciting, creative, and fun sounding tour!!! Please come to New Zealand 😉
Sending love and best wishes to you all. 🔥💃🏾🙏🏽🎵🤍
Hi Karen -- just arrived in Auckland yesterday for five months in New Zealand. The first thing that struck me was how seriously New Zealanders take their environment. My husband and I had to declare our hiking boots at customs and a biosecurity inspector summarily cleaned them. We took the train into the city, and I was floored by how the train interior sparkled and there was no garbage on the side of the tracks. The rest of the world can certainly learn from your example. Wow!
Yay! Feel free to message me- we can maybe meet up if all aligns :)
Karen, I just returned from three weeks in your beautiful country. We explored many treasures on the South Island. I will spend the rest of my life unpacking and savoring amazing moments with people I met.
Headed to the South Island after we finish exploring the North. Any recommendations?
Yes- see Julie’s post ;) she’s got a beautiful list there. Also go over Arthur’s Pass to Hokitika and head up the West Coast for some stunning mountains and forests. Glenorchy and if you can make it to Rakiura too x
Aww how beautiful Julie, I’m glad you got to the South. ❤️ I’m sure you have treasures your way too? 😊
Yes, treasures in our own backyard! And yet I’ve never seen the crystal clear water running through streams, rivers, and lakes in the most incredible array of blues as I did everywhere on the South Island. Looking out the car window and realizing I was looking at Mt. Cook in the distance. The drive from Te Anua to Milford Sound. Stopped waiting to enter the tunnel and seeing a Kea, Alpine Parrot on the roof of the car ahead of us! And then witnessing the beauty while taking the ferry on Milford Sound. Hearing then seeing two kiwi at midnight as we silently held our breath. The tiny Stewart Island Robin vexing at my boots as we explored Ulva Island. And seeing the Southern Cross for the first time at St. John Dark Sky Project! Oh my, what treasured memories 🇳🇿 ♥️
Such a beautiful, vivid description, Julia. And I’m so glad you got to Rakiura and it’s little robin! Mother nature is a true star! X
Karen & Julie, I also returned two weeks ago after 3 months traveling both North & South Islands.
I am an artist, writer and activist and found so much beauty of inspiration from the amazing nature to museums and Maori wisdom. I hope to return next year for a longer time to do an artist residency.
Julia we had a similar experience traveling on roads and across trails and water. YES seeing the southern cross and Milky Way!! The stars at night and volcanic mountains and deep pools of water from ocean to stream to thermal depths rising to the surface brought a special connection to worlds beyond words.
This post today reminds me that I need to take the leap to find “the growl”
How lovely Karen, I hope you get to return too. Reach out if you do :) ✨
Will do!! ❤️
Okay. I made notes!
I've spent the majority of my 73 years with an inner mouse, I've come to realize, not an inner growl. I'm not good enough has echoed in my ear and sat on my critical shoulder for more years than I care to admit. That's why, as a teacher, the most important thing I could ever impart to my students is positive reinforcement and encouragement. Without it you can do very little, internally or externally. But I suppose it's never too late to live by my own words and go from an inner squeak to a modicum of roar.
It’s never too late ❤️❤️❤️
Same and I am facilitating positive reinforcement with the students I serve as well. It is indeed helpful to reflect internally and be that person we are trying so hard to help others achieve💜
I'm honored to have my essay here, and thank you all for the lovely comments about it! I very much hope to see Suleika on book tour too.
It was an interesting read. I liked your "internal growl" and your soccer experiences. Curiously when I look back through the decades of my life, anger has been a driving force for me to achieve excellence. I'm a bit embarrassed about this as I'm not an angry sort of person. It's been a reaction to rejection or dismissal of one sort or another e.g. "Who says I can't?" "Why should I do this when it conflicts with my values?" "Don't you dare underestimate me." "No I will not walk away with my tail between my legs. I am better than that." The other response has been as an approach to challenging injustice and finding creative solutions to this. Again, though the underlying emotion is anger. It's been a bit of a revelation! Thank you!
Thank you for your motivating words!
When I was studying clarinet, I had a teacher who saw something in me, and questioned, how do we turn that bud into a bloom? His answer wasn’t gentle, and it wasn’t always nice, and his comments sometimes brought me to tears. But after he threatened to not let me graduate, I discovered a ferocious spirit deep inside that not only brought me over the finish line, but resulted in the most joyful, exhilarating performance of my life. I don’t play clarinet anymore, but I’ve never forgotten that feeling.
It took a while but realizing no Deux ex Machina was going to arrive while still believing in Angels is extremely helpful.
Over the moon excited to see you and Jon on the Alchemy book tour! I hope you’re feeling okay this week after chemo, dear Suleika. ❤️
I love the love you and Jon have for one another and am quite intrigued to learn more about the book tour. Thank you yet again for inspiration on being one’s best self. Have a peaceful Sunday 🤍