It is through great loss that I found my human mycelium. The thing is...they're all dead. My grandmother, who loved me so special. I lost her when I was 12. She still loves me special. I feel her in shock of color my geraniums provide, the crush of the first tomato leaf and the scent that only it contains, and when I see a cardinal, male or female, I know she is there, watching over me, reminding me of her deepest love. My first kiss...oh damn he was gorgeous and when he died of cancer at age 63, I thought my heart would stay crushed. But he is there, helping me look at myself and reminding me of when I was 14. And all the feistyness and fairydust of that age returns to me. My mom...it has been a year since she left this plane of life and comes to me in whispers of wisdom and delight. "This too shall pass," and she was right. I see her in the daisies, lollygagging in the sun, in a hot cup of tea on a hot day under the shade of my porch. Thank you Fernando for the opportunity to explore that loving network, holding me up, moving me forward and keeping me upright. Suleika, oh, New York Times Best Seller, the wisdom of a 6-year-old and my feminist she-ro, Gloria Steinem...oh, what a beautiful morning.
I am so, so proud of you, Suleika. You are crushing it, and looking fabulous while doing it! (Mom always said, " A great outfit and a red lip will brighten any day.")
Mary thanks for sharing this beautiful and personal comment ❤️ Also most of my mycelium is not here anymore but still with me every day in incredibly magical ways 🌟🙏
Thank you, Heather! I love this, "Your gratitude will lift you up every time." Mom woould have loved that too. She used to write down quotes she loved and reread them in times where she needed boosting up.
Lynette, thank you. Oh, this is just so beautiful...ahhhh, bare feet. I will remember this each time (which is often) that I am walking barefoot in my yard.
This is very beautiful...it moved me to tears. I feel all the feelings of your comment. You have expressed it in a way I only wish I could. I come here as a medical professional. My writing has been prolific in medical charts both handwritten and on EPIC designed for hospitals where a person's "medical" life lives forever in the "cloud" of notes that we, who care for them, write. We write carefully and as accurately as we can to protect ourselves and those under our care. We write according to an acronym...known as "SOAP"; subjective, objective, assessment, and plan. The only feelings we write about are those of the person for whom we are caring. Now retired, I am trying to acquire the freedom in my writing to express my amazing feelings and experiences. It is a slow process. I enjoy meeting writers like yourself and Suleika, who are inspiring me along the way. Many thanks to you both and all who share so freely here in this wonderful space.
Loretta, thank you. I must say, that you too shared "freely" here and are also inspiring. Medical charts are a type of writing (loved learning about the acronym!). I bet, you mentally wrote between the lines. It could be that is where you will find your sweet spot. Like you, I also enjoy reading the feelings of others here. I see you have a Substack and I am looking forward to reading it! I just love other people's stories/lives.
Thank you so much for your response to my comment. I never thought about "reading between the lines" of my medical notes. There certainly was much thought that carefully went into that space. Wow, I have a whole new perspective on my writing skill. So grateful to you for opening up this "sweet spot" that is overflowing.
Okay, Pat, now I am crying into my coffee. (Decided to have afternoon coffee instead of tea). Wow, to know that I am part of your ritual is, well, so humbling and I am honored. Truly, thank you.
Nancy, thank you. I have been struggling with grief (truly an understatement) this past year, and being given the chance (via the prompts) to see the loss in the "found" was and will now be the way I can move forward.
Please send your poem to The League of Women Voters for publication. It's the most moving, inspiring and motivational thing about voting I've read in 20 years!
May we publish it in our neighborhood newsletter, Allandale Neighborhood Association, in Austin Tx?
Thank you Kim for this beautiful prose that so touched my heart in this moment. As “I lean in..toward the unseen that holds me…” such comfort in these words.
Your piece feels like a field report from the frontline of human resilience, and you, the poet-warrior stitching it all together with golden thread.
Your story about Fernando, and the image of his voice, Lou’s joy, Gloria’s rhinestone-ready rebellion, makes me think of another kind of alchemy: the quiet, bright transformation that occurs when stories are not only told but RECEIVED. When they’re held up to the light like stained glass, and we suddenly see ourselves reflected in someone else’s suffering and triumph.
Your invocation of “The Human Mycelium” brings to mind something I once read in Merlin Sheldrake’s “Entangled Life”: that underground fungal networks don’t only support forests, they are the forest’s intelligence. They warn of danger. They redistribute resources. They keep the whole ecosystem alive. Isn’t that what your work does? What your tour just did? You’ve helped reveal the invisible neural network of our shared humanity — this living, pulsing web of attention and compassion and outrageous tenderness. And what’s wild is: it doesn’t just sustain others, it sustains the self. (That’s the part they don’t tell you in school.)
I think community is not the opposite of solitude. Maybe it’s what allows solitude to be safe, even sacred. When we know we are held in the invisible arms of people we love (or people who simply see us), we can walk deeper into ourselves, to come back with more of it in our hands, not to escape the world.
Thank you for letting us walk a little of that journey with you!
I feel, when reading your book, that the stories multiply, that they grow around and through. A whisper. A gesture. A what if. But there is also this unforeseen alchemy: Waiting at the train station following the Philadelphia show, I met (kismet) a young woman holding your book. We sat together on the train. She told me her own story, her family's story, and by the end of that ride I had volunteered to work on behalf of a remarkable organization that pairs artists with inspirations—to make art for a specific someone on the cancer journey. And so your book has done that, too—introduced me to a remarkable young woman and given me a new necessary purpose.
This is so beautiful, Beth!! I’m so grateful to you for sharing your words in the book, for coming to the Philly show, for my Kephart Keeper, and for how you love through the world with such an open heart. Big hugs ❤️
It was so evident to me that evening — an entire train ride of people headed home, her book in their hands. The conversations among strangers. Worthy of a poem.
I tried to post a response to your hearts, but I think it might have gotten lost because I am so technologically klutzy, and all I wanted to say is how inspiring you also are, Carmen—your beauty, your kindness, those mind maps, which I am working with today as I make art and words adjacent to art. Also: that black dress! Also: that red dress! I hope this posts. If not, I hope you feel the affection through the ether.
Just yesterday I went to see the Broadway musical Redwood which is about a woman who suffered a terrible loss and found healing among the redwoods. The show mentions mycelium. The world is full of coincidences (or maybe not coincidences) and this is one of them.
I agree with Fernando, when life is tough it is essential to have strong roots that support you and people who are encouraging you behind the scenes. My parents demonstrated the power of friendship and serving the community. When you give to others it comes back in spades and in unexpected ways. When I am able to touch a patient’s life I feel my roots spreading out. My parents had friends who were always my champions and guides and I carry their belief in me everywhere.I have a husband who is always in my corner. I have my own friendships. Some that have lasted over fifty years. I have a son whom I hope will carry on what I taught him. I have co-workers who are in the trenches with me ready to bolster my spirits when management is being unreasonable or if I have a difficult patient. I am a member of a book group which I started as an inspiration of one of the prompt givers of IJ (I forget which one) who challenged us to try something new. The members of the group are very different from me, but by meeting monthly to discuss books they provide me with a sense of belonging. At different times we call upon different parts of our human mycelium, but just knowing it is there is what keeps us going.
I love what you shared here, Lisa. And it’s interesting to me that you mentioned coincidences, as my husband and I were talking about this very subject this morning; whether things are coincidences or not. 💙
Lisa, I love that you started book club! I have struggled with finding friends at my age and stage. I have lovely colleagues, much younger than me, and I enjoy their company at work...but after work, I have only found my solace in my books, my gardens, my daughter (who still lives with me because of her horrible medical issues-I wish sings for her that sing with health)...no real "friends." Do I have your courage? I do not know. I like reading about yours.
Mary, I found the people from a listserve for parents of young adults a few of them were saying they wanted to be in a book group so I just organized all those who said they were interested. It is very hard to find people who are willing to read the books and actually do. We meet monthly and have for two years. I never would have met them any other way but I am glad we did.
Every time I read your new writing, I am overcome with the openness and love you project. Thank you for sharing the bit about Fernando Murillo and his story about trees and the sustenance they and we give to each other in order to survive and thrive. So happy for you and the success of your book tour.
Be well. Get some rest. We all love you. You are a beacon of strength and an example of how love can change and heal. ♥️♥️
I love you too, and I don‘t even know you, Suleika, but your life, your thoughts and words, your strength and positive perseverance and the way you share love are all ingredients of love in the broad sense and make you so very loveable. Thank you 🥰
My mycelium: 10 years ago I had 4 friends who I loved, trusted, had my back and they all died. They died young, much younger than me. I love them: Amy, William, Christa & Stephanie. I must add I’m my biggest supporter, listening to my intuition & listening to the Universe. I had to begin all over again, at this late stage of my life to create a new support system & it’s not easy., because most people have settled lives & don’t want anything new. I don’t give up, I have very young friends and finding new ones plus I love my own
company—we hang out a lot!
Suleika’s quote is with me daily—“live each day as though it’s your first!” Isolation Journal community you are a treasure. Thank you 🙏 .
I think it’s the ‘broadest, most community-minded’ form of love which is my favorite. Because it encompasses all the rest and at the same time; is the foundation upon which all others are planted, steadied and sustained. Congratulations on the amazing tour and the best selling book. As Mandy Patinkin has said, “I’ve got a BUCKETload of faults” but blind envy truly isn’t one of them …. UNTIL I consider the opportunity to binge watch ‘Call the Midwives’ with GLORIA STEINEM …. Now that’s an experience I would have to admit that I covet just a TINY little bit. 😂 I couldn’t physically make it to one of your tour shows but have gotten to see some short clips on-line and watching you and Jon making music together on stage, in every sense, is such a joyful experience to watch!! I’m so happy for you, my dear Isolation Journals friend. ☮️❤️🌷
Who makes up my human mycelium? I often say my largest wealth in this lifetime are my friends. As a child, we had moved 7 times by the time I was 12. I won't even count all the places I lived in my 20s! I have moved 15 more times since my first marriage at age 28. Along the way I have made many, many deep friendships. People who are friends to this day. When I think of each one of them, I know they are there for me, and I for them. I could knock on any door and be welcomed home with open arms. After attending the Alchemy Tour in Brooklyn, I realized how strong our connection to one another in this community is. All of us, mostly strangers, stood there lovingly connected, holding space for Jon and Suleika and each other. It was a powerful and moving experience. I felt safe and loved amongst so many like-minded "friends". My human mycelium is as vast as the universe, the threads of those beloved who have moved on, the ones I know and love here on this Earthly plane, and the ones who I don't know yet know because I can feel all of you. I am so grateful.
At, first, and even now, I am not sure how to respond. Humanity, people that is, are not my first go to. Frogs when they leap startle and stir my blood more deeply than people. Snakes sliding upon this Earth, deer lifting their heads to gaze at me as I quietly wave hello, the solitary bald eagle perched on a thin branch above her nest, the ground hog feasting on grass outside my living room window, the black bear strolling up a nearby sidewalk, the surprising appearance of a single red fox, truly a gift to behold, the peepers in early Spring, the first blinking of fireflies, a fish leaping up out of the waters, the fluttering of butterflies, the flight of dragonflies, and then I realise what’s missing, people. Those of us who acknowledge our vulnerability, who, like the groundhog, keep looking up and checking to see if it is safe to continue grazing fresh grass. Oh, how I wish to walk among wild animals, and be accepted as one of them. Alas, I too am a people, and must learn how to open up to and embrace this suchness. Quite a task. I am inspired by stories such as Fernando’s, find such nourishing, and, maybe, someday, convincing enough to rustle my leaves midst this human forest. 🏮
Only Light can dispel darkness. Yes, Love in the broadest sense is being unleashed through the voices given presence in your new book. Fernando’s essay provided for me a new concept, mycelium, interconnection. What the world needs now.
The world had the opportunity to experience Light and Love through your tour. I witnessed it first hand in Philly in the joyful atmosphere of the Miller Theater. You and Jon together radiating Light and Love. At the end my youngest sister, wrapping me in the biggest bear hug while still sitting in our seats. Sobbing into my shoulder thank you, thank you, thank you. From Ohio to this event, her cancer journey freshly in the rear view mirror, clutched your beautiful book close, sharing in the light and love of an incredible evening of joy. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
You came to Minneapolis right when the trees started to gain their leaves. The maples are making their red seeds before the green leaves come out. I hope you saw that, if not I hope you do soon. The gifts of seasons. One of my seasons was spending 10 years bringing visual art supplies and encouragement to the bedside of kids at the Texas Children's Hospital and Clinics Cancer Center through the Periwinkle Foundation. I gather living water from that deep well of memories. The power of love and creativity I saw and also experienced second hand with Purple Songs Can Fly stays with me. The journey continues. Thank you for sharing yours.
Good morning. Just dropping a hello. I love the book. I needed this book. It’s a beacon in these troubling times. I’m going to put each prompt on paper and put them in a jar. I’ll pull them randomly and do that prompt each day. Suleika, you will love Call the Midwife. I was pleasantly surprised how good this show is. And very relevant. Thank you for TIJ. Love! Laurie.
My eyes are open to chance encounters- that has served me well. Why? Reading. I simply love to read, As a teenager, I made friends with a book called The Asiatics, an imaginary travel story-which it did not matter whether real or not. However, since and before I have loved and cultivated chance encounters with no possessiveness. After all what are my claims? And yes now more than ever Candide---its dark still but not to late to cultivate- it never is.
The connections I have with family and friends are my roots and then with our Isolation Journal community I have new “buds,” in forms of the written word which touch my heart and sprout tears of feeling understood.
It is through great loss that I found my human mycelium. The thing is...they're all dead. My grandmother, who loved me so special. I lost her when I was 12. She still loves me special. I feel her in shock of color my geraniums provide, the crush of the first tomato leaf and the scent that only it contains, and when I see a cardinal, male or female, I know she is there, watching over me, reminding me of her deepest love. My first kiss...oh damn he was gorgeous and when he died of cancer at age 63, I thought my heart would stay crushed. But he is there, helping me look at myself and reminding me of when I was 14. And all the feistyness and fairydust of that age returns to me. My mom...it has been a year since she left this plane of life and comes to me in whispers of wisdom and delight. "This too shall pass," and she was right. I see her in the daisies, lollygagging in the sun, in a hot cup of tea on a hot day under the shade of my porch. Thank you Fernando for the opportunity to explore that loving network, holding me up, moving me forward and keeping me upright. Suleika, oh, New York Times Best Seller, the wisdom of a 6-year-old and my feminist she-ro, Gloria Steinem...oh, what a beautiful morning.
This is lovely, Mary. Love across the gulf of spacetime.
Thank you, Carmen. I have had no words to describe "it" and you have done it perfectly, "Love across the gulf of spacetime." Thank you for that.
❤️❤️
I am so, so proud of you, Suleika. You are crushing it, and looking fabulous while doing it! (Mom always said, " A great outfit and a red lip will brighten any day.")
Mary thanks for sharing this beautiful and personal comment ❤️ Also most of my mycelium is not here anymore but still with me every day in incredibly magical ways 🌟🙏
Ines, Yes, yes, such "magical ways." Thank you!
Your gratitude will left you up every time what a beautiful post ❤️🥰
Thank you, Heather! I love this, "Your gratitude will lift you up every time." Mom woould have loved that too. She used to write down quotes she loved and reread them in times where she needed boosting up.
Stunning!!!
N (ancy)...thank you. I love the way you have "alchemized" your name!
Gorgeous!
Thank you, Lisa!
Those who have left you are the ground your pulsing bare feet dance for........
Lynette, thank you. Oh, this is just so beautiful...ahhhh, bare feet. I will remember this each time (which is often) that I am walking barefoot in my yard.
Thank you , Mary, for this magnificent post. Tore up my heart and opened it up at the same time. This is an astonishing community of humans!
Karen, there is the opening line for a (your) book, "Tore up my heart and opened it at the same time." Thank you! (Of course, the "line" is yours!)
This is very beautiful...it moved me to tears. I feel all the feelings of your comment. You have expressed it in a way I only wish I could. I come here as a medical professional. My writing has been prolific in medical charts both handwritten and on EPIC designed for hospitals where a person's "medical" life lives forever in the "cloud" of notes that we, who care for them, write. We write carefully and as accurately as we can to protect ourselves and those under our care. We write according to an acronym...known as "SOAP"; subjective, objective, assessment, and plan. The only feelings we write about are those of the person for whom we are caring. Now retired, I am trying to acquire the freedom in my writing to express my amazing feelings and experiences. It is a slow process. I enjoy meeting writers like yourself and Suleika, who are inspiring me along the way. Many thanks to you both and all who share so freely here in this wonderful space.
Loretta, thank you. I must say, that you too shared "freely" here and are also inspiring. Medical charts are a type of writing (loved learning about the acronym!). I bet, you mentally wrote between the lines. It could be that is where you will find your sweet spot. Like you, I also enjoy reading the feelings of others here. I see you have a Substack and I am looking forward to reading it! I just love other people's stories/lives.
Thank you so much for your response to my comment. I never thought about "reading between the lines" of my medical notes. There certainly was much thought that carefully went into that space. Wow, I have a whole new perspective on my writing skill. So grateful to you for opening up this "sweet spot" that is overflowing.
Mary, it is always a pleasure to begin my Sunday morning coffee ritual reading your response to the TIJ prompt. Heart hugs. Thank you.
Okay, Pat, now I am crying into my coffee. (Decided to have afternoon coffee instead of tea). Wow, to know that I am part of your ritual is, well, so humbling and I am honored. Truly, thank you.
Beautiful, Mary. ❤️
Susan, thank you!
Beautifully writing Mary.
Thank you, Laurie!
Mary, - what a beautiful and poignant comment this morning. The love of those now gone, still embracing you.
Nancy, thank you. I have been struggling with grief (truly an understatement) this past year, and being given the chance (via the prompts) to see the loss in the "found" was and will now be the way I can move forward.
Aphrodite, how wonderful to see her and know in your heart, that she is with you, sharing herself in the effervescent bands of rainbows.
I have always been the one standing a little apart —
more comfortable in the spaces between,
more at ease in the company of trees than crowds.
My relationships in the living world have been hard-won,
like vines that only twine after long seasons of stillness.
And yet, this weekend, I stood among strangers —
a scout hall breathing with decades of hope —
& I voted not only for myself,
but for those whose hands were never allowed to mark the page,
for those still waiting for a voice.
I did not know the names of the people beside me.
They did not know mine.
But still, we moved together —
an unseen network, humming with the stubborn magic of belief.
It reminded me:
I do not have to know you to stand with you.
I do not have to touch you to be touched.
Somewhere beneath our feet, beneath all our guardedness & grief,
the roots are always weaving —
quiet, tireless, unseen.
The human mycelium is not made only of closeness or familiarity.
It is made of something older, wilder:
The way a laugh can find you across a dark room.
The way a vote can be cast not just for yourself but for a stranger’s child.
The way the earth hums with life you cannot see but feel.
Even as a loner, even as one who finds touch difficult,
I am fed by this network.
I thrive because of it.
We are stitched together not by obligation,
but by the simple, radiant fact of being alive at the same time.
And so I lean in —
awkward, tender, willing —
toward the unseen weave that holds me,
toward the breath of others carried in the same wind,
toward the knowing that I have never truly stood alone.
•••
Suleika,
so thrilled by the thought of you finding new rhythm through the bass.
What a beautiful new thread.
Fernando, your words sank deep,
like rain into parched soil. Thank you.
Your poetry is a connector for all breath.
Rachel —thank you for your thoughtful words. They’re deeply felt.
Kim,
What beauty, compassion and love your thread has added.
Thank you ❤️
And you in turn, Alyson have shown the same kindness here. Thank you.
Beautiful words. A description for many of us who couldn’t find these words to explain our commonality. Thank you.
I’m so pleased the words found a home with you, Sheri-Lee. Thank you.
Please send your poem to The League of Women Voters for publication. It's the most moving, inspiring and motivational thing about voting I've read in 20 years!
May we publish it in our neighborhood newsletter, Allandale Neighborhood Association, in Austin Tx?
Susan —
thank you — your words are quietly astonishing.
Yes, I’d be honoured for you to share the piece.
It’s a small thread — I’m grateful it will be carried.
“I not have to know you to stand with you. I do not have to touch you to be touched.”
I love your poem, Kim. Thank you for sharing! 💙
Thank you, Susan —It means a lot to know those lines resonated with you.
Thank you Kim for this beautiful prose that so touched my heart in this moment. As “I lean in..toward the unseen that holds me…” such comfort in these words.
Karen —thank you. I’m grateful the words could offer you comfort.
I love this Kim. This is so relatable.
Thank you, Laurie. It means a lot to know the words found a reflection in you.
Your piece feels like a field report from the frontline of human resilience, and you, the poet-warrior stitching it all together with golden thread.
Your story about Fernando, and the image of his voice, Lou’s joy, Gloria’s rhinestone-ready rebellion, makes me think of another kind of alchemy: the quiet, bright transformation that occurs when stories are not only told but RECEIVED. When they’re held up to the light like stained glass, and we suddenly see ourselves reflected in someone else’s suffering and triumph.
Your invocation of “The Human Mycelium” brings to mind something I once read in Merlin Sheldrake’s “Entangled Life”: that underground fungal networks don’t only support forests, they are the forest’s intelligence. They warn of danger. They redistribute resources. They keep the whole ecosystem alive. Isn’t that what your work does? What your tour just did? You’ve helped reveal the invisible neural network of our shared humanity — this living, pulsing web of attention and compassion and outrageous tenderness. And what’s wild is: it doesn’t just sustain others, it sustains the self. (That’s the part they don’t tell you in school.)
I think community is not the opposite of solitude. Maybe it’s what allows solitude to be safe, even sacred. When we know we are held in the invisible arms of people we love (or people who simply see us), we can walk deeper into ourselves, to come back with more of it in our hands, not to escape the world.
Thank you for letting us walk a little of that journey with you!
— A fellow node in the mycelium.
I feel, when reading your book, that the stories multiply, that they grow around and through. A whisper. A gesture. A what if. But there is also this unforeseen alchemy: Waiting at the train station following the Philadelphia show, I met (kismet) a young woman holding your book. We sat together on the train. She told me her own story, her family's story, and by the end of that ride I had volunteered to work on behalf of a remarkable organization that pairs artists with inspirations—to make art for a specific someone on the cancer journey. And so your book has done that, too—introduced me to a remarkable young woman and given me a new necessary purpose.
This is so beautiful, Beth!! I’m so grateful to you for sharing your words in the book, for coming to the Philly show, for my Kephart Keeper, and for how you love through the world with such an open heart. Big hugs ❤️
Lots of hugs right back.
Beth,
I love this! Suleika has created tentacles that weave themselves with their loving sense of community further than she may have ever dreamed.
It was so evident to me that evening — an entire train ride of people headed home, her book in their hands. The conversations among strangers. Worthy of a poem.
❤️❤️❤️
I tried to post a response to your hearts, but I think it might have gotten lost because I am so technologically klutzy, and all I wanted to say is how inspiring you also are, Carmen—your beauty, your kindness, those mind maps, which I am working with today as I make art and words adjacent to art. Also: that black dress! Also: that red dress! I hope this posts. If not, I hope you feel the affection through the ether.
It posted! Thank you, dear Beth! And happy mind mapping :)
How beautiful, Beth! 💜
Just yesterday I went to see the Broadway musical Redwood which is about a woman who suffered a terrible loss and found healing among the redwoods. The show mentions mycelium. The world is full of coincidences (or maybe not coincidences) and this is one of them.
I agree with Fernando, when life is tough it is essential to have strong roots that support you and people who are encouraging you behind the scenes. My parents demonstrated the power of friendship and serving the community. When you give to others it comes back in spades and in unexpected ways. When I am able to touch a patient’s life I feel my roots spreading out. My parents had friends who were always my champions and guides and I carry their belief in me everywhere.I have a husband who is always in my corner. I have my own friendships. Some that have lasted over fifty years. I have a son whom I hope will carry on what I taught him. I have co-workers who are in the trenches with me ready to bolster my spirits when management is being unreasonable or if I have a difficult patient. I am a member of a book group which I started as an inspiration of one of the prompt givers of IJ (I forget which one) who challenged us to try something new. The members of the group are very different from me, but by meeting monthly to discuss books they provide me with a sense of belonging. At different times we call upon different parts of our human mycelium, but just knowing it is there is what keeps us going.
I love that your book club is an outgrowth of a prompt here! So many reverberations ❤️
I love what you shared here, Lisa. And it’s interesting to me that you mentioned coincidences, as my husband and I were talking about this very subject this morning; whether things are coincidences or not. 💙
I feel like we are surrounded by many things we are not aware of and once we hear about them once suddenly they are everywhere!
Lisa, I love that you started book club! I have struggled with finding friends at my age and stage. I have lovely colleagues, much younger than me, and I enjoy their company at work...but after work, I have only found my solace in my books, my gardens, my daughter (who still lives with me because of her horrible medical issues-I wish sings for her that sing with health)...no real "friends." Do I have your courage? I do not know. I like reading about yours.
Mary, I found the people from a listserve for parents of young adults a few of them were saying they wanted to be in a book group so I just organized all those who said they were interested. It is very hard to find people who are willing to read the books and actually do. We meet monthly and have for two years. I never would have met them any other way but I am glad we did.
Lisa, thank you so much for the "how to." Two years-wonderful!!
Every time I read your new writing, I am overcome with the openness and love you project. Thank you for sharing the bit about Fernando Murillo and his story about trees and the sustenance they and we give to each other in order to survive and thrive. So happy for you and the success of your book tour.
Be well. Get some rest. We all love you. You are a beacon of strength and an example of how love can change and heal. ♥️♥️
Thank you for these sweet words, Susan. Sending much love ❤️
I love you too, and I don‘t even know you, Suleika, but your life, your thoughts and words, your strength and positive perseverance and the way you share love are all ingredients of love in the broad sense and make you so very loveable. Thank you 🥰
My mycelium: 10 years ago I had 4 friends who I loved, trusted, had my back and they all died. They died young, much younger than me. I love them: Amy, William, Christa & Stephanie. I must add I’m my biggest supporter, listening to my intuition & listening to the Universe. I had to begin all over again, at this late stage of my life to create a new support system & it’s not easy., because most people have settled lives & don’t want anything new. I don’t give up, I have very young friends and finding new ones plus I love my own
company—we hang out a lot!
Suleika’s quote is with me daily—“live each day as though it’s your first!” Isolation Journal community you are a treasure. Thank you 🙏 .
Brave Sherri. ❤️
I think it’s the ‘broadest, most community-minded’ form of love which is my favorite. Because it encompasses all the rest and at the same time; is the foundation upon which all others are planted, steadied and sustained. Congratulations on the amazing tour and the best selling book. As Mandy Patinkin has said, “I’ve got a BUCKETload of faults” but blind envy truly isn’t one of them …. UNTIL I consider the opportunity to binge watch ‘Call the Midwives’ with GLORIA STEINEM …. Now that’s an experience I would have to admit that I covet just a TINY little bit. 😂 I couldn’t physically make it to one of your tour shows but have gotten to see some short clips on-line and watching you and Jon making music together on stage, in every sense, is such a joyful experience to watch!! I’m so happy for you, my dear Isolation Journals friend. ☮️❤️🌷
Who makes up my human mycelium? I often say my largest wealth in this lifetime are my friends. As a child, we had moved 7 times by the time I was 12. I won't even count all the places I lived in my 20s! I have moved 15 more times since my first marriage at age 28. Along the way I have made many, many deep friendships. People who are friends to this day. When I think of each one of them, I know they are there for me, and I for them. I could knock on any door and be welcomed home with open arms. After attending the Alchemy Tour in Brooklyn, I realized how strong our connection to one another in this community is. All of us, mostly strangers, stood there lovingly connected, holding space for Jon and Suleika and each other. It was a powerful and moving experience. I felt safe and loved amongst so many like-minded "friends". My human mycelium is as vast as the universe, the threads of those beloved who have moved on, the ones I know and love here on this Earthly plane, and the ones who I don't know yet know because I can feel all of you. I am so grateful.
At, first, and even now, I am not sure how to respond. Humanity, people that is, are not my first go to. Frogs when they leap startle and stir my blood more deeply than people. Snakes sliding upon this Earth, deer lifting their heads to gaze at me as I quietly wave hello, the solitary bald eagle perched on a thin branch above her nest, the ground hog feasting on grass outside my living room window, the black bear strolling up a nearby sidewalk, the surprising appearance of a single red fox, truly a gift to behold, the peepers in early Spring, the first blinking of fireflies, a fish leaping up out of the waters, the fluttering of butterflies, the flight of dragonflies, and then I realise what’s missing, people. Those of us who acknowledge our vulnerability, who, like the groundhog, keep looking up and checking to see if it is safe to continue grazing fresh grass. Oh, how I wish to walk among wild animals, and be accepted as one of them. Alas, I too am a people, and must learn how to open up to and embrace this suchness. Quite a task. I am inspired by stories such as Fernando’s, find such nourishing, and, maybe, someday, convincing enough to rustle my leaves midst this human forest. 🏮
I love reading your descriptions in your writing! 💙
Only Light can dispel darkness. Yes, Love in the broadest sense is being unleashed through the voices given presence in your new book. Fernando’s essay provided for me a new concept, mycelium, interconnection. What the world needs now.
The world had the opportunity to experience Light and Love through your tour. I witnessed it first hand in Philly in the joyful atmosphere of the Miller Theater. You and Jon together radiating Light and Love. At the end my youngest sister, wrapping me in the biggest bear hug while still sitting in our seats. Sobbing into my shoulder thank you, thank you, thank you. From Ohio to this event, her cancer journey freshly in the rear view mirror, clutched your beautiful book close, sharing in the light and love of an incredible evening of joy. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Much love to you and to your sister, Julia! ❤️
You came to Minneapolis right when the trees started to gain their leaves. The maples are making their red seeds before the green leaves come out. I hope you saw that, if not I hope you do soon. The gifts of seasons. One of my seasons was spending 10 years bringing visual art supplies and encouragement to the bedside of kids at the Texas Children's Hospital and Clinics Cancer Center through the Periwinkle Foundation. I gather living water from that deep well of memories. The power of love and creativity I saw and also experienced second hand with Purple Songs Can Fly stays with me. The journey continues. Thank you for sharing yours.
Good morning. Just dropping a hello. I love the book. I needed this book. It’s a beacon in these troubling times. I’m going to put each prompt on paper and put them in a jar. I’ll pull them randomly and do that prompt each day. Suleika, you will love Call the Midwife. I was pleasantly surprised how good this show is. And very relevant. Thank you for TIJ. Love! Laurie.
My eyes are open to chance encounters- that has served me well. Why? Reading. I simply love to read, As a teenager, I made friends with a book called The Asiatics, an imaginary travel story-which it did not matter whether real or not. However, since and before I have loved and cultivated chance encounters with no possessiveness. After all what are my claims? And yes now more than ever Candide---its dark still but not to late to cultivate- it never is.
Like you, I have been a voracious reader since I was a child. I love that you made a book for your friends when you were a teenager. 💙
I love chance encounters, too. Lovely way you put it: with no possessiveness.
The connections I have with family and friends are my roots and then with our Isolation Journal community I have new “buds,” in forms of the written word which touch my heart and sprout tears of feeling understood.
❤️❤️