Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Just when I think humans are driven only by power and money, I am reminded of this truth: the human spirit is kind and full of light.
I fell flat on my face last week. It happened so fast yet in slow motion. I could see the contents of my tote bag, computer and all, tumble out like jacks just before being scooped up with a jack ball.
Embarrassed and writhing with pain, I saw several people hurrying past on their way to meet deadlines and do important things. Then, I realized that I could not lift my right leg. For an inth of second, I felt alone and scared until two women gathered the contents of my bag and kneeled beside me in the middle of the street. One woman rubbed my shoulders tenderly, and the other said, “We will stay with you until an ambulance comes. Would you like for us to call you an ambulance?”
And stay, they did for at least fifteen minutes. I didn't need an ambulance, but for someone who doesn't ask for help, I was humbled by their kindness and patience with me. Before I hobbled off, we were all laughing at each other's embarrassing moments. For those fifteen minutes, I was well cared for by these wonderful humans.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I raised my niece since she was seven years old. And now she's twenty-five she moved out this past May. In September we had two consecutive weeks of celebration her wedding , then a baby 👶 shower. I was filled with so much wonder how through the years of raising my beautiful niece, and the struggles that came with it.. her feeling abandoned, and neglected from her parents. But through it all I kept praying, stayed present, and through all the testing she gave me I loved her unconditionally. Now today, we wait for the babiy arrival due in three weeks. And I wonder okay "Ann" it's your turn to live your life now.. and now I wonder how to adjust and start a new life. I'm so glad to report my niece has found mercy, forgiveness, Joy like she never had, and an open heart ❤️ to receive and give love. The mystery of wonder.. 💕
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
The wonder of the sudden sun after a week of rain, and me being able to walk with my walker through the golden glittering leaves on the pavement. The wonder of my body moving through it all. The wonder of threads going through my hands making sweaters for my dear ones who are cold and afraid in this seemingly endless war. Threading love and warmth through the sweaters, for extras.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Healing is wondrous. A gate fell on my foot the end of April and I lost my toenail. Gone. And now it’s almost grown back. I’ve watched it grow across the vulnerable nail bed with wonder. We are able to heal. Physically from loss and spiritually from being harmed and mentally from losing hope. It’s wondrous.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
The wonder of waking up each morning! The wonder of being alive! The wonder of falling in love! The wonder of beautiful music! The wonder of grief, pain, tears falling from my eyes down my cheeks! The wonder of a little baby, a puppy, the earth and sky! The wonder of making love, orgasms! Oh the wonder of being alive!
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Wonder. I feel nourished and inspired by the energy of wonder. This current horror in Palestine and Israel fills me with so much sadness. I have family in Israel, and friends in Palestine. In 2016 I spent a month visiting both countries.as a musician. Through music I met kind and generous, people and experienced a wonderful magic over and over, in both countries. Today I am writing about the wonder of a growing compassion for everyone involved in this human disaster. As the news focuses on the unfolding horror, I am amazed at the human cruelty, and yet, the momentum to cultivate a deeper compassion, for everyone involved. 🏮
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
“Writing is a kind of revenge against circumstance too: bad luck, loss, pain. If you make something out of it, then you’ve no longer been bested by these events.”
A veritable antidote. This is so key - it ventilates the ache. I think for me, action or doing is a revenge against circumstance; whether it's a focused cleaning, wild abandon in the kitchen - or setting out on a long walk - mindful movement helps me loosen the knots. As for something I find wondrous, strange, beautiful and/or unlikely, I would say silent, brief connection with someone; that lingering look, unspoken words (yet you know what they are), or a decided gesture - all make me feel less alone and more alive.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Write about something that you find wondrous. Something strange, beautiful, unlikely, or all of the above. If you’d like, use this as an entry point: “I return to this point of wonder.”
Thank you Katie and Suleika. Katie, your poem is lovely. And todays prompt feels light. It’s beautiful finding wonder in the everyday. Wonder is everywhere around us. I find wonder in the natural world. With the mild weather we have been having I’ve given myself an excuse to take little day trips to the ocean. A week ago I landed in Westerly Rhode Island. It was a truly wondrous day. Nature revealed so many gifts that day. The sky and clouds were beautiful and otherworldly. Driving by the shore I spotted an egret in a tree in a pond. I stopped and a another car stopped on the opposite side of the road. It was like this stranger and I were of the same mind. We both drove off at the same time and the man on the opposite side gave me a peace sigh, I returned his peace sign. This felt wondrous. I stopped at a canal to watch the cormorants. I was watching them drift with the current. But they were drifting facing the way the came. That’s faith! Just the wonder of letting go and trusting. Nature showed me so many wonders that day. I spotted a kite flying out of the corner of my eye. I’m was struck by the constant movement around me. Life is fluid. Nothing is the same from one second to the next. How wonderful it would be to have the faith of the cormorant and just “go with the flow”. To trust is the world and ourselves. Just just find beauty in each other as we are part of nature to0. We just forget this! I loved this day so much.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I wonder, as I am stopped in my tracks, at the red stripe on the blackbird. Who put that red stripe on your wing blackbird? Was it the same artist who put the "tiger" stripe in my son's left eye? The wonder of it all brings me to a knowing that is deep.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
“... train myself to find in the midst of hell/ what isn’t hell.”
Waking up with a cup of coffee to see the exquisite beauty of your writing. Walking at dusk in silence with full moon rising, “sun down, yellow moon.” Waiting to learn after a night of partying in Brooklyn that my daughters are all right. Giving thanks.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I wonder about funny things...like the fact that we are born with seat cushions attached on the back, or that we all prostrate ourselves and go unconscious every single day, or that we have these hilarious alien-like things sticking out of the sides of our heads that allow us to hear sound and we don't even look at each other and laugh about them. Yesterday I was outside of my home in Montana where it is now very winter-like already. I heard a noise and since one of my alien-like appendages doesn't work, I can't tell where sound comes from. But this sound got louder and louder and I realized it was the sound of honking geese so I looked up. There they were, in perfect formation, flying towards a warmer clime, calling out directions and maybe even, in my imagination, some juicy gossip about Goose Mable on the back left of the formation. I return to this point of wonder.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I realized-although I knew this that my concept of family was limiting. A few days back, I really saw the contentment of my kitty Olympia and my pup Bodhi. They are family---then I wondered about a girl who is somewhere in Gaza and every picture of her had a tiny pup... sigh.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
At 3:00 AM this morning I was sitting in my kitchen in my fuzzy pink robe, with the floor heater taking the chill off my legs, looking out the window at my backyard bathed in the glow of the full moon. It’s otherworldly the way the landscape appears in moonlight: the deep black of the moon shadows against the silvery light, the way every tree and shrub and fence takes on a strange and different look from the same view in sunlight. It’s wonderful.
My husband and I just returned from three weeks in France, hence the jet lag that had me up enjoying the moonlight instead of snuggled down and asleep in bed. We spent every day driving the backroads of rural areas of the south, marveling at the magnificent and peaceful views. The rugged cliffs that tower over the Lot River; the sweeping views of the Gers region, with hills and valleys and fields that made us feel like we were traveling inside a painting; the stone cottages and barns and exquisite little bories, dry stone huts, each one unique and built by rugged hands long ago; tiny villages with their narrow winding streets, often with a church or chateau whose towers reached for the sky.
I realized at some point during our travels that I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in the six years since my diagnosis--that child-like wonder I used to feel before pain and illness wiped it away. It has seemed that happiness and appreciation of beauty are now only on the surface, not deep and exciting like before. I thought I could never experience that depth of wonder again. But I did.
It’s good to know that the tight ball of anxiety, fear, and dread that has wedged itself into my spirit can soften and unfold, allowing me to more fully experience all the beauty that life has to offer. It gives me hope that what I thought was dead in me is alive after all.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
As I'm propped up in bed sipping tea and reading this latest one of the many wondrous and thought provoking newsletters, it strikes me just how easy it is to access information in these times we live in. A simple touch of a finger on a small device opens up an infinite world of knowledge. Truly awe inspiring. Needless to say we all know the seriously negative impacts of this information age but we fortunately have the freedom to choose what we engage ourselves in.
Maybe on this Sunday, we could all light a candle and say a little prayer for peace and healing for all of the people suffering in the midst of war.
Oct 29, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I return to this point of wonder: the wondrous full moon over my left shoulder, and the glorious red blazing sunset over my right as I stand in the driveway, getting into my car. I pause, I breathe, this daily wonder that displays itself in so many varied and dramatic ways.
Just when I think humans are driven only by power and money, I am reminded of this truth: the human spirit is kind and full of light.
I fell flat on my face last week. It happened so fast yet in slow motion. I could see the contents of my tote bag, computer and all, tumble out like jacks just before being scooped up with a jack ball.
Embarrassed and writhing with pain, I saw several people hurrying past on their way to meet deadlines and do important things. Then, I realized that I could not lift my right leg. For an inth of second, I felt alone and scared until two women gathered the contents of my bag and kneeled beside me in the middle of the street. One woman rubbed my shoulders tenderly, and the other said, “We will stay with you until an ambulance comes. Would you like for us to call you an ambulance?”
And stay, they did for at least fifteen minutes. I didn't need an ambulance, but for someone who doesn't ask for help, I was humbled by their kindness and patience with me. Before I hobbled off, we were all laughing at each other's embarrassing moments. For those fifteen minutes, I was well cared for by these wonderful humans.
I raised my niece since she was seven years old. And now she's twenty-five she moved out this past May. In September we had two consecutive weeks of celebration her wedding , then a baby 👶 shower. I was filled with so much wonder how through the years of raising my beautiful niece, and the struggles that came with it.. her feeling abandoned, and neglected from her parents. But through it all I kept praying, stayed present, and through all the testing she gave me I loved her unconditionally. Now today, we wait for the babiy arrival due in three weeks. And I wonder okay "Ann" it's your turn to live your life now.. and now I wonder how to adjust and start a new life. I'm so glad to report my niece has found mercy, forgiveness, Joy like she never had, and an open heart ❤️ to receive and give love. The mystery of wonder.. 💕
The wonder of the sudden sun after a week of rain, and me being able to walk with my walker through the golden glittering leaves on the pavement. The wonder of my body moving through it all. The wonder of threads going through my hands making sweaters for my dear ones who are cold and afraid in this seemingly endless war. Threading love and warmth through the sweaters, for extras.
Healing is wondrous. A gate fell on my foot the end of April and I lost my toenail. Gone. And now it’s almost grown back. I’ve watched it grow across the vulnerable nail bed with wonder. We are able to heal. Physically from loss and spiritually from being harmed and mentally from losing hope. It’s wondrous.
The wonder of waking up each morning! The wonder of being alive! The wonder of falling in love! The wonder of beautiful music! The wonder of grief, pain, tears falling from my eyes down my cheeks! The wonder of a little baby, a puppy, the earth and sky! The wonder of making love, orgasms! Oh the wonder of being alive!
Wonder. I feel nourished and inspired by the energy of wonder. This current horror in Palestine and Israel fills me with so much sadness. I have family in Israel, and friends in Palestine. In 2016 I spent a month visiting both countries.as a musician. Through music I met kind and generous, people and experienced a wonderful magic over and over, in both countries. Today I am writing about the wonder of a growing compassion for everyone involved in this human disaster. As the news focuses on the unfolding horror, I am amazed at the human cruelty, and yet, the momentum to cultivate a deeper compassion, for everyone involved. 🏮
“Writing is a kind of revenge against circumstance too: bad luck, loss, pain. If you make something out of it, then you’ve no longer been bested by these events.”
A veritable antidote. This is so key - it ventilates the ache. I think for me, action or doing is a revenge against circumstance; whether it's a focused cleaning, wild abandon in the kitchen - or setting out on a long walk - mindful movement helps me loosen the knots. As for something I find wondrous, strange, beautiful and/or unlikely, I would say silent, brief connection with someone; that lingering look, unspoken words (yet you know what they are), or a decided gesture - all make me feel less alone and more alive.
I wonder as I look in my 6 month old granddaughter’s eyes and get lost in the gray blue eyes to calm.
Write about something that you find wondrous. Something strange, beautiful, unlikely, or all of the above. If you’d like, use this as an entry point: “I return to this point of wonder.”
Thank you Katie and Suleika. Katie, your poem is lovely. And todays prompt feels light. It’s beautiful finding wonder in the everyday. Wonder is everywhere around us. I find wonder in the natural world. With the mild weather we have been having I’ve given myself an excuse to take little day trips to the ocean. A week ago I landed in Westerly Rhode Island. It was a truly wondrous day. Nature revealed so many gifts that day. The sky and clouds were beautiful and otherworldly. Driving by the shore I spotted an egret in a tree in a pond. I stopped and a another car stopped on the opposite side of the road. It was like this stranger and I were of the same mind. We both drove off at the same time and the man on the opposite side gave me a peace sigh, I returned his peace sign. This felt wondrous. I stopped at a canal to watch the cormorants. I was watching them drift with the current. But they were drifting facing the way the came. That’s faith! Just the wonder of letting go and trusting. Nature showed me so many wonders that day. I spotted a kite flying out of the corner of my eye. I’m was struck by the constant movement around me. Life is fluid. Nothing is the same from one second to the next. How wonderful it would be to have the faith of the cormorant and just “go with the flow”. To trust is the world and ourselves. Just just find beauty in each other as we are part of nature to0. We just forget this! I loved this day so much.
I wonder, as I am stopped in my tracks, at the red stripe on the blackbird. Who put that red stripe on your wing blackbird? Was it the same artist who put the "tiger" stripe in my son's left eye? The wonder of it all brings me to a knowing that is deep.
“... train myself to find in the midst of hell/ what isn’t hell.”
Waking up with a cup of coffee to see the exquisite beauty of your writing. Walking at dusk in silence with full moon rising, “sun down, yellow moon.” Waiting to learn after a night of partying in Brooklyn that my daughters are all right. Giving thanks.
I wonder about funny things...like the fact that we are born with seat cushions attached on the back, or that we all prostrate ourselves and go unconscious every single day, or that we have these hilarious alien-like things sticking out of the sides of our heads that allow us to hear sound and we don't even look at each other and laugh about them. Yesterday I was outside of my home in Montana where it is now very winter-like already. I heard a noise and since one of my alien-like appendages doesn't work, I can't tell where sound comes from. But this sound got louder and louder and I realized it was the sound of honking geese so I looked up. There they were, in perfect formation, flying towards a warmer clime, calling out directions and maybe even, in my imagination, some juicy gossip about Goose Mable on the back left of the formation. I return to this point of wonder.
I realized-although I knew this that my concept of family was limiting. A few days back, I really saw the contentment of my kitty Olympia and my pup Bodhi. They are family---then I wondered about a girl who is somewhere in Gaza and every picture of her had a tiny pup... sigh.
At 3:00 AM this morning I was sitting in my kitchen in my fuzzy pink robe, with the floor heater taking the chill off my legs, looking out the window at my backyard bathed in the glow of the full moon. It’s otherworldly the way the landscape appears in moonlight: the deep black of the moon shadows against the silvery light, the way every tree and shrub and fence takes on a strange and different look from the same view in sunlight. It’s wonderful.
My husband and I just returned from three weeks in France, hence the jet lag that had me up enjoying the moonlight instead of snuggled down and asleep in bed. We spent every day driving the backroads of rural areas of the south, marveling at the magnificent and peaceful views. The rugged cliffs that tower over the Lot River; the sweeping views of the Gers region, with hills and valleys and fields that made us feel like we were traveling inside a painting; the stone cottages and barns and exquisite little bories, dry stone huts, each one unique and built by rugged hands long ago; tiny villages with their narrow winding streets, often with a church or chateau whose towers reached for the sky.
I realized at some point during our travels that I was feeling something I hadn’t felt in the six years since my diagnosis--that child-like wonder I used to feel before pain and illness wiped it away. It has seemed that happiness and appreciation of beauty are now only on the surface, not deep and exciting like before. I thought I could never experience that depth of wonder again. But I did.
It’s good to know that the tight ball of anxiety, fear, and dread that has wedged itself into my spirit can soften and unfold, allowing me to more fully experience all the beauty that life has to offer. It gives me hope that what I thought was dead in me is alive after all.
As I'm propped up in bed sipping tea and reading this latest one of the many wondrous and thought provoking newsletters, it strikes me just how easy it is to access information in these times we live in. A simple touch of a finger on a small device opens up an infinite world of knowledge. Truly awe inspiring. Needless to say we all know the seriously negative impacts of this information age but we fortunately have the freedom to choose what we engage ourselves in.
Maybe on this Sunday, we could all light a candle and say a little prayer for peace and healing for all of the people suffering in the midst of war.
I return to this point of wonder: the wondrous full moon over my left shoulder, and the glorious red blazing sunset over my right as I stand in the driveway, getting into my car. I pause, I breathe, this daily wonder that displays itself in so many varied and dramatic ways.